AND ALL THAT HE IS

by

JOYCE CLARKE

ONE

Catherine knelt on the floor, at the side of his chair, gently nursing his bandaged, injured hand, caressing his fingers and claws, as if his hand was the most infinitely precious possession in her whole world - and to Catherine it was; it was part of Vincent.

Vincent sat in his chair, large, brooding and in pain, though not the pain from his wounded hand. That was only superficial; something that would heal of its own accord. This was the pain of self-loathing, hatred, disgust - the intense feelings he feared, would one day drive him insane - the integral part of his nature, that gave him the strength and the drive to tear men’s' bodies apart with his bare hands. How could he go on living with all these nightmares - all the sights and sounds and horrors that he inflicted on other human beings?

And the guilt ...

And the shame…

That he did it to protect those he loved, was no longer any comfort to him ...

He had to live with it all ...

He had to try and sleep, with all these vivid and horrific sights and sounds flashing through his mind's eye. All the mutilated bodies, coming to haunt him in his nightmares.

And tonight, Catherine had kissed Elliot Burch! Not only kissed him, but Vincent felt her respond to that kiss - just for an instant - but the response was so powerful, it made Vincent gasp - and now, he felt the overwhelming pain of knowing, that this man, Elliot Burch, could still ignite these feelings in Catherine.

He could not bear it ...

The pain ...

Catherine's voice broke into his thoughts. "Tell me what you're feeling?"

Feeling - Feeling - go on, tell her what you are feeling. And he told her about Elliot, being a king in his world - about Elliot, who could give her everything, riches beyond imagination - about Elliot, being able to walk beside her, in the sunlight - and the kiss - he told her about that kiss.

Catherine smiled inwardly, with sympathy and understanding of his pain - understanding that he did not want to hear about Elliot and the fact that they had almost died together; could have drowned, when they jumped into the river, to escape their attackers. That Elliot had opened his heart to her, and she had discovered the kind of man he could be.

But then Vincent sensed a change in her - felt her willing him to listen to her words.

"And when he kissed me, just for an instant, some small part of me responded - and I wished -and I wished - that it was - you!"

To Vincent, it was as if the sun had come out. His face was a mixture of astonished disbelief and joy. His heart was singing.

He gazed at Catherine and all he could see and feel, was the intense love she felt for him, radiating out from her, enveloping him in a warm, glowing cocoon.

Without thinking about his actions, he reached for her hand and drew her up onto his lap, wanting nothing more, than just to hold her close.

He could feel the softness of her face against his neck - feel her mouth nuzzle, then kiss his throat, causing him to moan quietly with the sheer pleasure of it - at least it would be sheer pleasure, if he could just get rid of this terrible smell!

He began to sniff at Catherine's hair and her clothes and then her hands.

"What's the matter Vincent, don't you like my perfume? It's called 'Essence of the River'!" Catherine tried desperately to keep her face straight and burst into fits of giggles, burying her nose into his chest.

Vincent started laughing, his whole body shaking with the joy of laughter. "I admit, Catherine, to thinking your perfume somewhat pungent and not quite ... you!"

She raised her head and looked into his laughing blue eyes, smiling at him, with love. "Vincent, never ever doubt that I love you, and all that you are," and she leaned forward and kissed his lips, before wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tightly to her. She felt his arms go around her, pressing her even closer and this was how Father found them.

It was the first time Father had seen them so close - so oblivious to everything else, except each other. He was incapable of moving away and hardly dared to breathe. He watched Catherine's head pull away from where it had been buried in Vincent's neck, to look into his face and kiss his lips. Father stood there, seeing the unique features of his son's face soften with love and wonder - and need. He saw all the beauty of the love they shared and in that moment, all the doubts and fears and reservations he had held since Catherine came into their lives, seemed somehow, unimportant.

What was important, was his son's God given right to love and be loved - as a man.

***

The following evening, Catherine stepped out of the elevator, rounded the corner into the hallway leading to her apartment and there, sitting on the chair outside her door, was Father. It was so unexpected, it stopped her dead in her tracks. "Father!" She rushed towards him, crouching down in front of him, automatically taking his hands. "Father, what's happened? Is it Vincent?"

Father smiled at her. squeezing her hands in reassurance. "No, no, my dear - everything is fine and so is Vincent. I just needed to talk to you, Catherine - in private. Below, the walls are renowned for having ears!"

Catherine could sense by his manner, that this was not going to be a confrontation type of discussion and, nodding in agreement at the lack of privacy Below, she stood up, fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her door. She bowed graciously, indicating with a wide sweep of her arm, the entrance to her apartment.

"Father, come in and welcome - it's lovely to have you here." She put her arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

Father smiled, warmed by her affection. "Thank you, Catherine, your apartment is beautiful."

The light from the huge fiery red sun, disappeared behind the tall concrete and glass tower blocks of New York, filled the room with a deep pinky haze. She did not switch on any of the lights, but took Father's arm and said, "Come, let's go out onto the balcony and watch the sun go down."

She opened the balcony doors, standing back to allow Father to go before her. She heard him gasp at the vista before him. The myriad of colors in the evening sky - blues, purples, black, greys, yellows and pinks, from the flaming red setting sun - all reflected on the glass towers of New York. He limped across to the wall and stood, looking out over the seemingly magical city.

Catherine went to his side and without speaking, slipped her arm in his and together, they enjoyed the beauty of the evening, with the muted sounds of the city, far below them.

Catherine heard a tremor in his voice as he spoke. "Do you know Catherine, the number of times I have seen a sunset, in forty years I can count on one hand."

"You are welcome here any time, Father. The morning sun is lovely too."

"No, my dear - I wasn't really complaining. My world is Below and I have no wish to be anywhere else - not now. It's my home - but it's the colors, you forget the colors in your mind's eye." He turned to her. "Thank you for this, Catherine. It will keep me going for a long time."

She squeezed his arm. "Well you stay here and I'll go make us some tea - are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine, Cathy. Thank you."

Father elected to stay on the balcony and enjoy the fresh air. It was a mild evening and after Catherine poured their tea, she asked, "What did you come to see me for, Father? It all seems so mysterious."

He put his cup and saucer on the wrought iron table. "I came to talk about Vincent - and you - and what the future holds for the two of you. I know I haven't been exactly supportive of the love that you and my son share, and for that, I owe you an apology."

"No you don't, Father, because I understand your fears of what I represent - of how I could hurt Vincent."

"You do, don't you?"

"Well, I'd like to think so - but tell me anyway - tell me about Vincent - about your fears."

Father coughed. "Cathy, the reason I have come here tonight, is because I have finally accepted that Vincent has to right to love and be loved, as a man - and that is how you love him, isn't it, Cathy?"

"No."

This single word was uttered quietly and without emphasis and Father looked both shocked and puzzled by her reply. "I don't understand, Cathy."

She smiled. "Father, of course I love Vincent, but all of him, every square inch of him and all that he is - just the way that he is, with all of his differences. If he were changed, in any way at all, he would not be my Vincent. The problem is, we both have to hold so much of ourselves back, because the prospect of a physical relationship terrifies him. I don't think he can accept that I can love him as a man and everything else that he is."

"You're not afraid of him at all, are you, Cathy?"

"No - should I be?"

Father shook his head. "No, it is not in Vincent's nature to take what is not freely given. That is why I never worried about him going through adolescence and becoming a man. I knew without any doubt that no woman would ever be in any danger from Vincent. Catherine, in case you were wondering, Vincent's physical differences, only apply to his face and hands - the rest of him, apart from being covered in rather more hair than most - is only a man."

"Yes," Cathy smiled. "I never imagined he would be anything else - but Vincent's greatest fear is of hurting me, even by accident. Memories of Lisa?"

"Cathy, not just Lisa. As you know, Vincent has scarred Devin and myself. His fear is highly justified, when you consider he has the power to kill a man with one swipe of his hand."

"And yet he is so gentle."

"The human side of Vincent is the most gentle soul that has ever walked this earth, but the controlled effort it takes for him to live with the part that is not human - well, I don't think any of us can really appreciate what strength of character it takes to maintain the balance. The part of him that is not human, is so alien to Vincent the man, and yet it is still a part of what he is."

"We all have a dark side."

"Yes, but the dark side of Vincent is far more terrifying and awesome then you or I could ever imagine - and it is his reality - he has to live with it - he has to keep it under control, or it would take him over and drive him out of his mind - and we would lose the Vincent we know and love. We would be left with an uncontrollable, dangerous beast that we would probably have to destroy!" Father's face contorted with pain and Cathy sat there, horrified at the thought.

"Was - was that what happened when he was a young man?"

"Yes, Cathy - he lost all control and was unable to cope. It drove him almost to madness. We thought he would die. We only survived at all because he was little more than a boy at the time - and I was twenty years younger and stronger - but even so, we had to restrain him, which was heartbreaking. If anything like that  happened again, Cathy, for whatever reason - there would be absolutely no way of restraining him - and only one alternative!"

Catherine sat taking in all that Father had said, giving her new insight to her Vincent - making her realize just how selfish and unthinking she had been.

"Father, I have consciously walked into dangerous situations, knowing that Vincent would always be there for me. I have watched while he has slashed men's bodies and not even blinked!" She held her head in her hands. "Oh God! What have I done?! I profess to love him and yet I cause him more pain and nightmares - the number of men he has killed because of me and I never realized what it did to him!"

Father gripped Cathy's hands. "Listen to me, Cathy - the mere fact that you are able to accept everything about him, all that he is, all that he does and is capable of doing - without fear or revulsion - only proves the depth of your love. Anything less than that and we would not be standing here now."

Catherine knew then what he said was true. She did love all of Vincent's differences and not only the man in him. If it was anything less than that, she would not be able to live so comfortably and easily with her feelings.

She wrapped her arms around Father's neck and hugged him to her. "Thank you, Father. I'm glad we had this talk. I think it's something I miss the most. Not being able to share him. Do you know I often get this mad impulse to dance around the DA;s office singing, 'I'm in love with a wonderful guy'." she smiled.

Father laughed then went all serious. "I know Cathy, you have suffered a great deal with your aloneness, haven't you?"

"Yes, but he's worth it. Vincent is worth everything, whatever it takes."

"Yes, he's worth everything to me, too."

And Catherine knew how true that was. "Catherine, would you like to come Below for the weekend? That was the real reason I came. Vincent is always complaining how your time together is always so measured and limited. If we go Below together, it will scotch any rumours and give it my seal of approval - and not just for this weekend, but any time you want to visit."

Catherine's face lit up with happiness. "Two whole days with Vincent! Father, I can't wait to see his face! Will you give me twenty minutes, while I have a quick shower and change - and throw a few things in a bag?"

"Certainly - William's holding dinner until we get back."

Catherine stared at him, her mouth open. "You crafty old fox - you had this all planned."

Father grinned. "Yes, but Vincent doesn't know."

"Really!" She flew into the bedroom. "I'll be ready in ten minutes!" she called out behind her.

* * *

TWO

Vincent loomed out of the dimly lit tunnel before they had cleared her basement entrance. He had come to investigate the plethora of emotions he had been picking up from Catherine, through their bond.

"Vincent!" Catherine cried and ran straight into his arms. He held her for a moment, then drew her away, searching her face, looking up at Father in his 'going Above' suit and her tapestry overnight bag, sitting on the floor.

"What is going on here?"

Catherine grinned. "Father has invited me to stay for the weekend, Vincent."

Vincent's face was a picture. "Father, you have been to Catherine's apartment to invite her for the weekend?" he asked, incredulously.

"Well, I ... er - yes."

And Catherine, trying to keep a straight face, chipped in with, "I think Father came to see me, to see if my intentions were honorable!" and she started laughing, giggling; somehow she could not contain herself. She picked up her bag and handed it to Vincent, then taking his hold of his other hand, she gave it a slight tug. "Come on Vincent, William is holding dinner for us."

As they walked at Father's pace, along a wide section of the tunnels, Vincent asked, "Father, exactly why did you go to Catherine's apartment - not just to invite her for the weekend, you could have sent a message."

"Because I love you both and I wanted you both to know that - in fact, I want to make it clear to the whole community without any doubt at all, that whatever happens between you and Catherine - you will have my support."

Vincent had stopped walking and had moved around to face them, still retaining hold of Catherine's hand and her overnight bag in his other. He stared at them both for a moment, his face revealing nothing, then letting go of Catherine's hand, he turned on his heel and strode off down the tunnel, leaving them both standing there.

"Well," Father said, "What do you make of that?"

"I don't know--but one thing I do know--I am not rushing him or crowding him. I suspect our Vincent has fears we did not even consider."

It was the first time Catherine had been into their dining chamber, which was also their kitchen and laundry room.

At the far end was a large solid-looking cooking range which she discovered later, was oil-fired. This was not only for cooking on, but also provided all the hot water that was needed, plus a certain amount of central heating to other chambers.

Everything seemed to be from another age. There were two large deep gleaming white stone sinks, flanked by well-scrubbed wooden drainers and work tops. Above the drainers were plate racks, shelves with all manner of pots, pans and dishes on them and hooks to hang the vast array of assorted cups, beakers and jugs.

Suspended from the high chamber ceiling were four wooden slatted clothes airers, with rope and pulley attachments - ideal for drying and airing their vast amount of clothes.

Of course, there were no modern electrical appliances, like a fridge, freezer or washing machine, although Cathy discovered later, they had an excellent walk-in cold store nearby.

As it is in most homes, the kitchen was the centre of operations and where everyone gathered, whether it be for a meal, or just a cup of tea and a chat. The large oblong scrub top dining table would seat twenty in comfort and as Father walked through the entrance with Catherine, all the seats were filled - except for two; Father's chair at the head of the table and a chair for Cathy on his left hand side, opposite Vincent, on his right.

There were no strangers here and everyone welcomed Catherine. Even before she had properly sat down, Samantha left her seat and came round to Cathy's side.

"Catherine, Vincent says you are staying for the weekend. Will you read our bedtime story tonight, please?"

Catherine laughed and looked up to find Vincent's blue eyes smiling back at her. She held his gaze for a moment, then dragged her eyes away, back to Samantha.

"Yes, of course I will, Samantha. I'd be delighted."

"Great. Thank you." She ran round to her seat on the other side of the table, thumped Geoffrey in his back and said, "See, I told you she would!"

"Right Samantha," Father scolded. "That's quite enough - and yes, Catherine will be here for the weekend, the first of many, I hope." He smiled at her. "But knowing the speed at which news circulates around here, that will now be common knowledge. Anyway Catherine, welcome to our table and I will enjoy seeing you here - often."

She rested her hand on his. "Thank you Father, I feel as if I've come home," and her eyes locked with Vincent's across the table. After reading to the children, Catherine expected Vincent to be waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be found. She could not help but feel a little disappointed as she made her way back to Father's chamber. Father was angry and wanted to send a search party out to find him, but Catherine would not hear of it.

"Father, no, please don't be angry with him. It's like I said earlier. Vincent has fears we haven't even considered."

"Yes I know, Cathy, but you have come to spend time with him and he runs away. If nothing else, it's ill-mannered of him."

She went and put her arm around his shoulders and kissed his head, the way Vincent always did. "Father, I am here, in his home, for no other reason than to spend time with him, be with him. He doesn't know what I expect of him and he's not sure what to expect of me either. It's unnerved him, that's all, so please don't be angry.''

Father smiled fondly at her. "I suspect Cathy, that you understand Vincent better than I do."

She kept Father company for another hour, then excused herself saying, "I think I will find myself a book to read and have an early night."

Father nodded, sensing her disappointment. "Goodnight, my dear."

It was two-thirty in the morning and Cathy was still awake, knowing that if she did not see Vincent, she would go mad. She got out of bed, pushed her feet into a pair of soft slippers she had brought with her and reached for her warm bathrobe. She put on a pair of pink cotton pajamas and as she tied the knot of her bathrobe firmly around her waist, she thought, Well Vincent, there is nothing the least bit provocative here! and she padded quietly off to his chamber.

Vincent was sitting up in bed, wide awake and very conscious of the close proximity of Catherine. He knew he had behaved abominably and he felt utterly ridiculous, but this was all new and untried territory for him and he admitted he had panicked. What on earth would Catherine think of him?

He heard a sound in the entrance to his chamber and Catherine appeared. She smiled shyly at him, walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, wanting to touch him, but thinking better of it.

"I missed you, Vincent - I couldn't sleep."

"Sleep is not the uppermost thought in my mind either. Catherine, I am sorry - I panicked."

"I know - and there was no need to, Vincent, really there wasn't. I only want to be with you. We deserve some time together - time to enjoy each other's company without being rushed, without having to watch the time. May I sit beside you? I'm sure it's more comfortable than my balcony - and warmer too." She smiled.

Vincent smiled. "Of course," but he still felt slightly apprehensive.

She reached for extra cushions and threw them to the head of the bed, then scrambled up herself, bouncing around, making herself comfortable, grinning up at him like a happy six year old child when she was finally settled. She sat up top of the covers and Vincent drew his cloak up from the bottom of the bed and tucked it around her legs. At last they both began to relax and unwind. They talked, they read and talked some more, then Vincent became conscious that Catherine had fallen asleep, her head on his chest, his arm around her - the nearest thing to heaven Vincent had ever known and eventually sleep overcame him too.

Father's face lit up with pleasure seeing Vincent and Catherine walk into breakfast hand in hand, laughing at some secret joke. Vincent kissed the top of his head

"Morning, Father," he said and sat down.

Catherine, grinning, did exactly the same.

"Good morning, both of you and I'm glad to see you both happy and together this morning."

"Yes Father and I omitted to thank you for going Above to see Catherine last night - and I also apologize for my behavior."

"That's all right, Vincent. I take it you have sorted out your misunderstandings?"

"We have," he replied, smiling at Catherine.

"Good."

***

On Monday morning Cathy knocked, then stuck her head round Joe's office door. "Sorry to disturb you Joe, but have you got a minute?"

"Yeah kiddo, come on in." She sat down, examining her hands, her prepared speech completely forgotten. Flinging his pencil down on his desk, he asked, "All right, Radcliffe, what's the problem?"

She looked up. "Joe, I want to be taken off the investigation team - I've had enough. I can't cope with it anymore!"

"Cathy? What's brought this up? You're one of our best."

"Thanks for that, Joe - but I just can't handle it anymore. It's all the violence that seems to follow me around and I seem to have lost my nerve."

"Well, I don't know how I'll replace you, Cathy. Investigators like you are thin on the ground."

"I'm sorry, Joe, really I am, but if a desk job can't be found for me, then I'll have to quit!"

Joe had come around to the front of his desk and was sitting on the corner of it. "It's that bad, is it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is."

Joe sighed. "All right Cathy, give me till tomorrow to sort something out. I'd rather have you here in some capacity than not at all. Is this likely to be permanent, by the way?"

"Yes Joe, I'm sorry, but it will be a permanent arrangement."

This was one of the things she and Vincent had talked through, over the weekend. Facing her fears was all very laudable, but she did tend to go out there and meet danger head on, though she did not like to admit it, taking it for granted that Vincent would always be there for her, without realizing the effect it was having on him.

She did not consciously think of Vincent as her own private killing machine, but unintentionally that is what he had become - and that thought horrified her. And, what has she become? After her own survival from a violent attack two years before, had she unconsciously acquired a lust for violence herself?

Catherine had shared all these thoughts and feelings with Vincent, and he, with his usual common sense and wisdom, summed it up for her.

"Catherine, this lust for violence you speak of - this is your dark side - the part of you that has to be controlled, to prevent it taking you over. I know you have terrible nightmares as well."

"You know when I'm having nightmares?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh yes, Catherine, I know."

"God, Vincent, what must your nightmares be like then - it doesn't bear thinking about."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his hair. After a few minutes, she pulled away and looked up at him.

"There is something I have learned from this, Vincent - how easy it must be for someone who has never known love, or even had someone to care - how easy it must be to become bitter and twisted and violent. It's love that gives us strength, isn't it Vincent? Strength to overcome anything."

He did not answer her with words, he just lowered his head and kissed her. Catherine thought to herself, What a lovely way to answer a question, things are definitely looking up.

***

THREE

Two weeks later Cathy was sitting in the local diner - local to the DA's office, that is. The food, though basic, was wholesome and nicely presented, in clean pleasant surroundings.

Catherine was totally absorbed in a newspaper article she was reading, when the top of the paper was pushed down to reveal the face of Bernie Spirko, reporter to the local scandal sheet. He was quite tame, but as far as Cathy was concerned, he gave her the creeps. He lacked any kind of conscience and would do anything for a story.

"Yes, Mr. Spirko, what can I do for you? Now that you have spoilt my lunch break."

"Oh, I intend to spoil it even further, Miss Chandler." He opened his briefcase and placed a photograph of her ex-fiancé Steven Bass in front of her, showing the scars of deep slash wounds across his abdomen. "Steven and I had a long discussion about you yesterday - and about what or should I say who, caused these scars."  He held his cassette recorder near her ear so that she could hear a snippet of their conversation.

Cathy struggled desperately to control the panic and fear that was riding within her, but looked up at Spirko with eyes full of anger. "How DARE you bother Steven, he is not capable of dealing with the likes of you!"

Spirko ignored her efforts to protect her ex-fiancé and continued with a smiling sneer on his face. "Steven told me about the sick relationship you have with the freak who did this - he told me his name is Vincent!"

Somehow Cathy held onto her panic and fear and stared coldly back at him. "Steven is a certified psychotic. Nothing he says can be taken seriously. I could take you to Bellview myself and find a much better story for you than that - except no one would print it. You are wasting your time, Mr Spirko - and mine too. I have to get back to work." Cathy rose to her feet.

"Nicely side-stepped, Miss Chandler, but Steven Bass is not my only source of information. It is someone who knows you have secrets in your life and is giving me the story. I have a folder here, full of photographs of men, with the same claw marks on them, who died of their wounds - and you, Miss Chandler, always seemed to be near the scene at the time - but of course, never see a thing!"

His voice was quiet, no one near them could hear what was being said, but Catherine's insides were screwed up with fear at all the implications of this creep's threats.

She pushed forcibly past him. "Out of my way, Mr. Spirko, you are barking up the wrong tree!" Her back and shoulders were stiff with tension as she made her way through the diner and out onto the crowded sidewalk. Her throat felt tight and tears were threatening as she flagged down a cab, gave her destination and climbed inside.

Vincent was pacing in Father's chamber, backwards and forwards--backwards and forwards. "Vincent! For goodness sake, settle down, there is nothing you can do and you say she is not in any physical danger."

"No, I know that, Father - her fear is for me and her anger, for someone else."

"Then someone else will get it in the neck then, won't they? Dear God! Vincent, sit down!"

Catherine burst into Elliot Burch's office like an out-of-control tornado. "How dare you investigate my private life? HOW DARE YOU! I thought you cared!" Cathy was screaming at him, her fists raised in anger, frustration and fear.

Elliot did not know what hit him. He had never seen her so angry and upset before. "Cathy, calm down, calm down. I don't know what you are talking about."

"Of course you do!" she screamed at him, her face contorting viciously. "You are undermining the only thing in my life I care about--I trusted you and now you've abused my trust!"

"You're wrong, Cathy," and he reached out to her, trying to calm and comfort her.

"Don't touch me, Elliot!" she spat at him between gritted teeth. "Just leave me alone - I don't want to ever see you again!" She spun around and headed for the door, because she could feel herself losing all control, but Elliot was faster, reached it first and slammed the door too, standing in front of it, barring her way.

"Cathy, you are not leaving this office until I have had my say!"

"There is nothing you can say that I want to hear - let me out!" Cathy yelled back at him, unwanted tears of anger spilling down her face.

Elliot grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her until her teeth rattled. "Damn you woman - you are going to listen to me!"

Desperation was written all over his face. Catherine could feel the emotion in him and it had a strangely calming effect on her.

He felt her relax slightly and led her over to the settee at the side of his office. As they sat down, both of them were still shaking.

"Catherine, you know how I feel about you - and yes, I know you have someone else in your life, obviously someone very special, but Cathy, believe me, even if I cannot have your love, I certainly do not want your hate!" His voice was pitched higher with emotion, but he was not shouting at her. "What would I have to gain, by doing any of what you're accusing me of. Don't you know by now, Cathy, that I will always be here for you, whatever you need of me, I'm here and no strings. If friendship is all there is, that's all there will be."

Cathy looked at him, feeling suddenly foolish and totally out of line. "I’m sorry, Elliot," she said and more tears spilled down her face, as she began to sob. He gave her a handkerchief. "It's just that you are the only person I have revealed any of my private life to - little though it was, that night on the docks. I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusions, Elliot."

He sat there, feeling stupidly happy and it showed all over his smiling, handsome face. He wanted very much to hold her, but his emotions were running so high, he dare not trust himself. He did not feel the least bit platonic towards Cathy, so he went and sat on the corner of his desk, to put some space between them.

“So, come on Cathy, what brought all this on?"

Catherine knew she could only give Elliot an edited version of what had happened. "It's Bernie Spirko - he has a source who knows about the secrets in my life. I don't know how much he knows, but it could endanger many people I care about and the man I love."

"Cathy, what on earth are you involved in, that causes you all this pain? It isn't anything criminal, is it?"

Cathy smiled at him. "No Elliot, I'm not involved in anything criminal, but something wonderful and very special and I am sorry that I can't tell you about it."

"Can't, Cathy - or won't?"

"I can't, Elliot. It would be breaking a trust and I can't do that, can I?"

"All right Cathy," he sighed, loudly, "but I gather you would like me to find Spirko's source?"

"Could you, Elliot? It isn't something I can go to the police with."

"Cathy, I have the means to find out anything I want about anybody I want and it would be my pleasure to put my facilities where they can be of help to you and the people you care about. Bernie Spirko will be watched so closely, that he will not only be seen to be eating, but also what is on his plate."

***

FOUR

It was dark when Cathy finally finished work that night and she unlocked the apartment door, knowing Vincent would be waiting for her. Without switching on the lights, she flew out onto the balcony and into his waiting arms, the only place in the world she really wanted to be. The overwhelming need of each other was becoming more and more difficult to hold at bay and it was with great reluctance that they pulled apart.

"Catherine, tell me what happened today - I felt such fear and anger in you, yet I knew you were in no physical danger." Vincent leant against the balcony wall and Catherine, unwilling to let go of him altogether, kept hold of both his hands and stood close in front of him, giving him the detailed account of the day's happenings.

When she had finished, Vincent asked, "Catherine, what can this man Spirko do, with all this photographic information he has been given?"

"As it stands, nothing. The police already have the same information and they have not been able to prove anything."

"And you trust Elliot, with tracing Spirko's source?"

"Yes I do, Vincent - now - and we really do need his help. We can't go to the police and whoever it is out there, who knows about us, has got to be found - and soon."

"Catherine, there is also the possibility that Elliot will also find out about us. Do you think he is capable to understanding and accepting what we share?"

Catherine nodded. "Yes, I think he is - but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Vincent inclined his head slightly in agreement. "Come Below tonight, Catherine. Father would appreciate you putting him in the picture - and he has had to put up with me all day."

Catherine smiled into his eyes. "I would love to, Vincent. Just give me ten minutes to shower and change."

"Of course, I'll wait for you here."

"Great!" and she reached up and kissed him on the mouth, then disappeared through the French windows. Vincent stood waiting on the balcony, hugging himself with contentment. He could still feel the warmth of Catherine's kiss on his lips, when the telephone rang. Catherine was in the shower and he knew she would not be able to hear it.

Feeling suddenly brave and confident, Vincent stepped into her domain, crossed through the sitting room and lifted the receiver. The male voice at the other end of the line said, "Hello - Cathy?"

"No, sorry," Vincent answered. "Catherine is in the shower. Can I give her a message?"

Vincent's velvet-voiced reply was received by a slightly perplexed Elliot Burch. "Er - well no, it's rather private. Ask her to ring me back. It's Elliot Burch - and who are you, anyway?"

Vincent could not help smiling, with a hint of devilment. "Hello Elliot, I'm Vincent, the man in Catherine's life."

"Oh!"

"I apologize for her anger at lunch time. I gather she gave you quite a hard time."

"You can say that again, Vincent."

"Well, we appreciate your help in trying to trace Spirko's source, Elliot. It is of grave concern to us."

"Well, that's what I was ringing about, Vincent - my detective has just phoned to say that he is on Spirko's tail. Why don't you and Cathy come over to my office and we can all get out heads together."

"I am afraid that will not be possible, Elliot."

"Why?"

"You will have to take my word for it."

"It's like a damned secret society!"

Vincent smiled. "Yes, I know, it must seem that way - but maybe you could come over to Catherine's apartment?"

"Come to Cathy's apartment?" Elliot was obviously surprised at that. "Does that mean I get to meet you, Vincent?"

Vincent grinned. "I think that can be arranged, Elliot - but I must ask you to come alone."

"RIght. See you soon then. Bye."

A few minutes later, Catherine cane out of the bedroom, dressed in a blue track suit and carrying a small overnight bag. She could not believe her eyes when she saw Vincent in her sitting room, examining her collection of books. He had even removed his cloak and had draped it over the back of the couch. She stood there, savoring the moment, the feel of him in her apartment. Vincent felt her presence and turned to see the undisguised love shining from her eyes. It caught his breath and he smiled adoringly at her.

"Elliot phoned and he will be here soon. His detective is on Spirko's tail and he would like us to get our heads together." Vincent grinned, feeling quite full of himself.

"Vincent! You answered the phone?" she asked incredulously.

"You were in the shower and your answering machine was not on," he told her, as if it was an everyday occurrence.

It made Catherine laugh out loud, as she rushed into his arms. "Have you any idea how good it feels to have you here, in my apartment?" She nuzzled into his neck and he pulled her away from him.

"Probably the same way I feel when you are Below, with me." They stood there holding each other, all the words they wanted to say, left unsaid.

Catherine reached for his hand. "Come with me into the kitchen, Vincent, while I make us some tea and tell me everything you and Elliot said to each other." Vincent looked around her luxury, but almost clinical looking kitchen, that was hardly ever used, while he told her of his phone conversation with Elliot.

Vincent!" she said, somewhat surprised. "You're going to let Elliot meet you?"

"Do you think I should not?"

She came and stood close in front of him, her head on his chest. Then looking up into his eyes, she said, "Vincent, personally I would like to shout about you from the rooftops. I would like everyone to see you as I do."

Vincent chuckled. "I think that would be rather more than even I could cope with, Catherine."

"Oh you!" and she playfully thumped him in the chest as the doorbell rang.

"That will be Elliot. He hasn't wasted much time."

Her hands still on Vincent's chest, she looked into his eyes. "Vincent, I had better talk to him first and then, we'll take it from there."

He squeezed her hands. "There is no other way, Catherine."

"Who is it?" Catherine shouted through the door.

"It's me, Elliot." She unlocked the door and let him in. "Hi, Cathy," and holding her shoulders, he kissed her cheek, looking around for her man, Vincent. He noticed a rather strange looking cloak over the back of the couch, but no other sign that he was there. He removed his overcoat and Cathy took it and laid it out over a chair. "Has Vincent had to go somewhere, Cathy?"

"No Elliot, he's here."

"Well, wheel him out, then."

Catherine smiled. "Sit down Elliot, please."

They both sat facing each other on opposite couches. "Elliot, it is necessary for me to tell you a bit about Vincent first, before you meet him."

"You must?" he queried, puzzled.

"Yes, you see, Vincent is no ordinary man. Extraordinary is nearer the mark and that's the reason I am unable to introduce him to my friends, or even share what is considered to be a normal life together. You see Elliot, Vincent is physically different from other men and because of the way he is different, we can never walk out in the sunshine together."

Elliot felt the sadness in her voice. "Why, Cathy?"

"Because people are afraid of the way he looks - and what certain people don't understand and are afraid of, they attack."

"But you're not afraid of what he looks like?"

Catherine shook her head and smiled. "To me, Vincent is the most beautiful man in the world," the tone of her voice left Elliot in no doubt.

"He can't be so terrible then - he certainly sounded perfectly normal on the phone."

"He is perfectly normal, Elliot - just different."

"How long have you known him?"

"More than two years." Elliot frowned and Catherine could almost see what he was thinking. "Elliot, I tried to love you, for Vincent's sake as well as my own." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"Now that's a strange thing to say, Cathy."

"Not really. You see, the love Vincent and I share seemed so fraught with unsurmountable difficulties, it seemed impossible, a dream that could never be and Vincent thought it would be far better if I forgot him altogether and tried to love ... someone else."

"And that's where I came in?"

Cathy nodded. "I tried, Elliot, I mean, you are every woman's dream."

"But not yours?"

She shook her head. "Not in the way you deserve, Elliot, no. I found that I would rather be with Vincent, even with all our difficulties, than live a life of luxury and untold riches, without him."

"Okay Cathy, I admit defeat." He threw his hands in the air in surrender. "But we can still be friends?"

"Of course, Elliot. I hope we will always be friends."

"Hope? You're not absolutely sure, Cathy?"

"You haven't met Vincent yet." Smiling mysteriously, Cathy jumped up and went through to the kitchen, into Vincent's arms. "Was it all right, what I said, Vincent?"

His adoring blue eyes smiled down at her. "I was quite overwhelmed, Catherine."

"Come on then, let's go and meet the opposition," and she took his hand and led him out into the sitting room.

Elliot was on his feet, waiting in front of the fireplace. He was half expecting a man with some horrible deformity, something that would prevent him going out in the daylight. What he was not prepared for, was this tall majestic, golden god, who seemed to have stepped straight out of Greek mythology and was being led across the room, hand in hand with Cathy. To Elliot, Vincent’s presence seemed to fill the room. No one spoke, but neither Vincent nor Catherine sensed or saw any sign of fear or revulsion in Elliot and he was the first to speak, his voice filled with awe.

"Now I understand the need for secrecy." His quiet acceptance of Vincent surprised them both. He reached out his hand. "Thank you, Vincent, for allowing me to meet you. It cannot have been easy for you." He stared at the large fur-covered, clawed hand enveloping his, missing nothing, then releasing Vincent's hand, stood looking at both Vincent and Catherine, in wonder - and respect.

"It is never easy meeting new people, Elliot," Vincent agreed. "The usual reaction is one of fear and horror. The few times I have been caught in your world, I have been shot, stabbed, run over, caged like an animal - I can never be free to walk out in the sunshine."

They could both see Elliot thinking about this before he asked, "How have you survived all those years Vincent, without anyone knowing about you?"

"Elliot, there are many people who know about me - good friends, people who care - people I love and, who love me and the man I call Father, who raised me as his own son." Elliot sat down on the couch, an incredulous look on his face. Catherine and Vincent smiled at each other, relaxing - it was going to be all right.

"Elliot, would you like a drink, tea, coffee or beer?"

"Oh, coffee please, Cathy. Black, no sugar."

Catherine was standing behind Vincent and placing her hands on his shoulders asked, "And we will have our usual tea?"

He put his head back, looking up into her face and at the same time, touching one of her hands. "That will be lovely, Catherine."

She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving them alone. She could hear them talking, laughing--a lovely sound and a few minutes later, she walked through with a tray of drinks, sat cross-legged on the couch, using Vincent as a backrest and his arm went automatically around her shoulders.

After having a sip of tea, she asked, "So there are no developments yet with Spirko?"

Elliot looked at her, momentarily puzzled. "Spirko - of course, I'd forgotten about him. You must admit I have been side-tracked somewhat."

Catherine laughed. "Yes I know - Vincent does have that effect on people," and she grinned up at him, lacing her small fingers with his large clawed hand.

This small act of possession mesmerized Elliot. He had been around enough to know that love was not just for the beautiful people - and yet, Elliot was quite capable of appreciating that Vincent had a certain magnetic beauty all of his own. No wonder Cathy protected him so fiercely.

Elliot could also imagine that in the wrong hands, Vincent's life could be turned into a living hell - but watching these two people together, he knew that what they had found was worth protecting and felt very proud to be part of it.

Vincent's piercing blue eyes seemed to read his thoughts. "I'm sorry Vincent, I was miles away then."

"No need to apologize, Elliot."

"Vincent, Catherine, for whatever it is worth, you have my support in whatever way you need it - and I have an uncanny feeling I won't regret it."

Vincent reached out and shook Elliot's offered hand. "Thank you, Elliot, that makes you one of our unofficial helpers and I am sure you will not regret it."

"So what do I have to do to become an 'official' helper?"

"For that you have to go through Father and the council and then you will discover a world you never knew existed."

"You mean there really is more than just you?"

No, to my knowledge there is no one else like me - -but as I am sure you can appreciate, for me to have survived at all, I have had to have a secure place to live and it is this that we protect. My world is made up of people that, for one reason or another, your world has rejected."

At that moment the telephone rang. Catherine unscrambled her legs and using Vincent's knee as a lever, pushed herself up off the couch and answered the phone.

"It's for you, Elliot."

He took the hand set from her. "It will be Cleon Manning, my detective. I told him to ring me here if he came up with anything. Is there a speaker switch so we can all hear what he has to say?" Cathy reached over and pressed a button on the control panel and nodded to Elliot to go ahead. "Right Cleon, tell us what you've got."

"Okay, well, the only people I have seen him with this afternoon were associates he works with, then about an hour ago I followed him to a seedy downtown snack bar and he was contacted by a man, possibly in his sixties; tall, slim, slight stoop, dressed entirely in black." Catherine and Vincent glanced at each other and Cleon continued. "He had a broad brimmed hat on and he obviously did not want Spirko to actually see him, as they sat, back to back - but they were definitely conversing and the man left before Spirko. I managed to get some photographs, but not a clear shot of the contact's face."

"Would you mind bringing them over to Cathy's apartment - it's on the 18th floor, 21E."

"Right Elliot, I'm not far away. I'll be there in a few minutes." The phone went dead.

Vincent was standing in front of the fireplace. "Elliot, from the description we have been given, Catherine and I are pretty sure who this contact is. The photograph will confirm it without having to see his face."

"You know him that well?"

"Yes Elliot - and I must impress upon you that this man is very clever, very evil and very dangerous - totally lacking in compassion." Catherine went to Vincent's side, slipping her hand in his, hugging his arm with her other hand. Vincent looked lovingly down at her.

"Last year he kidnapped Catherine. I was able to find her, but we were lucky to escape with our lives. As it was, a very dear friend of ours was killed. His name was Winslow and he had lived with us for many years."

Elliot looked incredulous. "An old man - against you?"

"An old man yes, Elliot, but still a force to be reckoned with."

Elliot nodded. "We'll keep a watch on Spirko then, until we find out what's going on - Cathy, would you like me to put a man outside your door?"

Cathy smiled. "Thank you Elliot, it's good to know you would do that for me but no, until this is all over, I'll be staying with Vincent - I'm safe enough at work during the day. In fact, as soon as we have seen these photos, that's where we are heading."

Elliot looked worried. "I've just realized, I've asked Cleon here and I'd forgotten about you, Vincent."

"Elliot," Vincent smiled. "There is no need to worry yourself - it is good to know my differences are no longer uppermost in your thoughts. I can always disappear into the bedroom when he comes."

"Vincent, I think I accepted you from the word go," he laughed with pure devilment. "Of course Catherine's introductory speech helped, plus the fact I did not meet you in a dark alley!"

Vincent acknowledged this and accepted the humor.

There was a knock on the door and Vincent disappeared into the bedroom, taking his cloak with him. "Elliot shouted, "That you Cleon?"

“It's me, Elliot."

Catherine unlocked and opened the door to a tall, immaculately dressed, incredibly handsome black man, with dark brown eyes and flashing white teeth.

"Miss Chandler, I presume?"

Grinning up at him, she reached out her hand. "And you must be Cleon Manning? Please, call me Cathy."

"Right, Cathy." He inclined his head graciously.

"Please come in."

Cleon moved into the room, noticing the three empty beakers on the coffee table. He made no comments but looked around with the eye of a professional, taking in the details of his surroundings. Catherine thought he would just hand over the photographs, but instead he stared straight at her.

"Cathy, I have been employed by Elliot for a number of years and we are both happy with that arrangement - an arrangement based on trust and friendship. I like all the information that is available, it makes my job, not only easier, but safer." He did not wait for her to comment, but looked questioningly at her, and Elliot remained silent. "Cathy, I'm very conscious of a third person in this apartment, probably hiding in your bedroom. Now, why should someone, who has just shared a cup of coffee with you and Elliot, need to hide from me?"

Cathy stood; swallowed hard, she did not know how to answer.

"Hey Cleon, steady on, Cathy's not on trial here," said Elliot, trying to ease the situation.

Vincent felt her confusion and relying on his instincts, he pushed open the louvre doors, which certainly captured Cleon's attention.

Speaking in his cultured, velvet tones that belied his appearance, Vincent said, "I agree Elliot, no one is on trial here, but it is a fair question."

Vincent and Cleon stood, weighing each other up, without the slightest sign of fear or apprehension on either side and a certain amount of humor on Cleon's face. He was the first to speak.

"Hmmmm - yes - well - I suppose it would be logical for someone like you to make yourself scarce when a stranger knocks on the door." He chuckled and the tension disappeared.

Catherine came to Vincent's side, holding onto his arm. "I'm sorry about that Cleon, and thank you for understanding. I would like you to meet Vincent - the man in my life."

Cleon raised an eyebrow at both of them as he shook Vincent's hand, turning his hand slightly for a better look at Vincent's claws. "You know Vincent, it never ceases to amaze me how life is quite often, stranger than fiction. I take it you are what this is all about?"

"That is correct, Cleon. There is someone out there who knows about me and not only wishes me harm, but is also putting my family; people I care about and my home, at risk. I would very much like to see those photographs please."

Cleon removed them from his inside pocket and fanned them out onto the coffee table. There were good clear pictures of Bernie Spirko and although very little could be seen of his contact, neither Vincent nor Catherine were in any doubt as to who it was.

PARACELSUS!

***

FIVE

As Vincent and Catherine made their way through the tunnels, they discussed the events of the evening.

Catherine giggled. "I think you have won two more converts to the 'Vincent Appreciation Society!' "

Vincent slowed his steps and stopped. Catherine saw his face and realized she had been perhaps too flippant.

"Catherine, I was just as pleased and surprised as you with the way Elliot accepted me ... us. And Cleon - I felt a certain empathy with him. I think he understood, but when they have gone home and slept on it, or more likely not slept on it, when Cleon has done his job and discovers what Spirko knows and passes that information onto Elliot ..." He stared at Catherine for a long moment, sighing before he continued. "... then we will discover just how acceptable we are!"

"Well at least, Vincent, you are admitting that is 'we' and not just you - because whatever happens, we are in this together."

"Yes." He touched her face. "And you have to work out there and until we are sure of Elliot and Cleon, we have to be just as wary of them as we are of Paracelsus." He took her hand. "Come, Catherine. We have to warn Father and tighten up on the tunnel security system. We will also organize an escort to see you to work and a helper to see you home."

Catherine could feel his anxiety and did not argue with him.

***

SIX

It was just before six o'clock the following evening. Cathy had arranged to work an hour extra, rather than take work Below. She had Sam's phone number - one of their helpers who ran his own cab service - and he would collect her when she was ready. The telephone rang on her desk and she reached across absentmindedly to answer it.

"Cathy Chandler, DA's office."

"Hi Cathy, It's Elliot. Glad I've caught you. I'd like to see you before you go home, if possible. It won't take long and I'll give you a lift home in the limo." His voice was laughing, friendly and Cathy replied in the same tone.

"Why, gee thanks, Elliot, what a treat!"

"Cathy, listen. I'm just winding a meeting up with some buyers on the docks. The limo will be outside our offices in about five minutes, then you can come and pick me up and we'll talk on the way back to your place."

"Okay, Elliot, if it's that important."

"It is, Cathy, please."

"Yes, well I was just packing up anyway - see you in a while then."

She rang Sam to tell him she had a safe lift home with someone else. Joe walked out with her and insisted on waiting until her limo arrived, as it was almost dark. Shouting a cheerful goodnight to each other as Cathy climbed into the spacious luxury of the limousine, Joe turned towards the DA's garage and his own, more humble form of transport.

The limousine pulled into Gate 5 at the docks and drew up silently beside the Refrigeration Storage Depot. The driver turned to Cathy. "I'll go and see if Mr. Burch is ready." A tiny seed of apprehension was developing within Cathy, mainly because the driver had left her alone, in total darkness - the only light coming from the illuminated refrigeration storage depot sign on the side of the building.

She saw a dark figure approaching and opening the rear door, a familiar voice said, "Hi Cathy, sorry to keep you waiting."

"Elliot!" she cried with relief. The relief was short-lived; as the automatic interior lights came on and Catherine saw the face of the man climbing in beside her. She gasped in fear and horror. The man was not Elliot, but Paracelsus! And she had walked right into it!

In Father's chamber, deep below the city, Vincent had an unsettling feeling that something was not quite right. Father sensed his unease. "Vincent, you seem edgy - is something wrong?"

"I don't know, Father. I hope not." Vincent waited, practically holding his breath. Suddenly he let out a deafening roar, grabbed his cloak and fled the chamber as if all the demons in hell were after him.

Catherine scrambled over to the other door in a bid to escape him, but it was pulled open suddenly and she was enveloped in a vice-like grip. She tried kicking out with her legs but Paracelsus soon had these limbs under control. She resorted to screaming her head off, but a hand, holding a pad impregnated with ether, was clamped over her mouth and Catherine drifted off, on clouds of cotton wool and into oblivion. Paracelsus dragged her from the car, lifting her now anaesthetized body over his shoulder, telling his driver to take the limousine back to where he had hired it from, As the limousine drove away, Paracelsus carried Cathy into the refrigeration depot, stopping at the third refrigeration unit and opened the door. He entered and lowered her onto the floor, leaving her there, with all the frozen carcasses of meat. Before closing her in, he turned up the thermostat dial as high as it would go, listening to the sound of the motor as it went into overdrive, then gratefully came out into the warmer air and fastened the door behind him. He moved into the shadows to await the next turn of events. He estimated that it would take Vincent at least twenty minutes to get from their living chambers to this point on the dock; maybe even longer.

Bernie Spirko entered the storage depot, picking his way through with the aid of a flashlight, to the third refrigeration unit, where he had been told to wait, camera at the ready. he did not have to wait long and his eyes had become accustomed to the gloom when he saw this enormous dark shape moving towards him, with all the soundless stealth and grace of a big cat. He was rooted to the spot with fear, but his hands were on automatic pilot, taking photograph after photograph, until this huge dark shape stopped in front of him and Bernie Spirko looked up into a face that all his nightmares were made of. Vincent snarled at him, revealing his long fangs, but Vincent knew this man was not the enemy and wished him no harm. Spirko opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out and he shut his eyes, waiting for his end to come.

Vincent was breathing heavily, but his voice was quiet and controlled as he spoke. "Mr Spirko, I want you to take the film from that camera and expose it, then get yourself out of here." Spirko opened his eyes, totally disbelieving the words he had heard as well as the voice that had spoken them. "Mr Spirko, if you value your life, do as I say - you have nothing to fear from me." He did as he was told, handing the unwound spool of film to Vincent, staring at his clawed hands with horrified eyes. "Now go!" Spirko fled, on legs that felt as if they were set in concrete. Vincent opened and entered the refrigerated storage unit as Paracelsus moved to follow Spirko out.

The light came on automatically as in a household fridge. In the middle of the floor lay Catherine, her clothes and hair already frosted over. She had on a trench coat, trousers and boots which gave her some protection, but not enough in this intense cold and she was still unconscious. He gently but quickly removed her frozen trench coat, then spreading his fleecy-lined cloak on the floor, he lifted her up and enveloped her in it, snuggling its warmth close around her and gathering her up into his arms, he turned to leave - only to see the door slam too and lock before he could reach it. He kicked at it and roared in frustration, knowing the chance of even him being able to break out of here was remote. He looked around, trying to keep calm. It could not end like this - frozen - how long could they last?

He had been sweating from his flight through the tunnels. Already he could feel frost forming on his face and hair, and the cold was seeping through to his body. He clutched Catherine to him, refusing to just give in and paced up and down, giving the door a hefty kick at every turn. How long he kept this up he had no idea. His teeth were chattering and even through his layers of warm tunnel clothes, the cold was really beginning to bite - when he heard a noise - outside. Irrespective of who was out there, he banged on the door and shouted, "In here, get us out of here! Please help us!"

The door was unfastened and Vincent watched it open. Cleon Manning stood there, amazed at who he had found.

"Vincent!" And motioning to the bundle in his arms, added, "Catherine?"

"Yes."

"Come on, let's get you out of here - my car is close by and it's warm. You two are coming home with me!"

Vincent was in no condition to argue. Cleon checked there was no one about and Vincent followed him across an alleyway to where his car was parked. He and Catherine were bundled into the back. As promised, it was warm. Cleon started the car.

"Just hold on, both of you. We'll be home in a few minutes."

During the short journey, Cleon told Vincent that he had found Spirko under a pile of sacks. He had been gutted with a stiletto blade.

Using the car phone he made an anonymous call to the police, reporting the murder. Right now, he did not want to explain his presence there. At Vincent's request he rang Peter Alcott with a message that they were both safe and would he let Father know they would be home later.

They drew into the driveway of Cleon's house. The garage doors opened by remote control and once inside, the big doors closed and locked behind them. Cleon took Catherine while Vincent climbed out of the back, then handing her back to Vincent led them through a security door into a small but fully-equipped basement gymnasium.

Vincent followed Cleon through double swing doors into the most luxurious bathroom he had ever seen. Warm rose pink carpets covered the floor and the focal point was a large circular Jacuzzi set into the floor, bubbling away, warm and inviting. Vincent thought to himself that it was not unlike their underground hot springs.

"Right Vincent, are you capable of getting your two selves undressed and into that tub? It will warm you up and get your circulation going."

"Yes, thank you, I will be able to manage," said Vincent, looking slightly scared.

Sensing his fear, Cleon reassured him. "Vincent, you are absolutely safe here, no one will bother you. There are fruit juices in the small fridge over there and I will be back in about an hour, when you've had a chance to thaw out."

Cleon slid open a wardrobe door and brought out two bathrobes and a pile of towels and put them on a low table at the side of the Jacuzzi. "There, I think that's everything - and I wouldn't hang about if I were you."

"Thank you, Cleon. We owe you our lives."

"Glad I was there, Vincent," and he turned and left them alone.

Cleon was not to know that the only thing Vincent was afraid of, was Catherine seeing him without his clothes, but he fully understood the stupidity of not doing just that. He could never remember being this cold in his life and even in this warmth, could not stop himself from his continual involuntary shuddering. Catherine was still suffering the after effects of the anaesthetic and could not understand why she was so unbelievably cold. She was unaware of her surroundings, except for knowing that Vincent was with her and he was gently removing her clothes, reassuring her all the time that she would soon be warm.

He was so shocked by the color of her body, ranging from red to purple and blue, that he removed his own clothes without giving it another moments thought. Gathering her up into his arms and , naked, he stepped down into the jacuzzi, lowering himself and Catherine into the blissfully warm, bubbling water.

"Oooooh!" moaned Catherine, trying to force her eyes open. "Am I dreaming, Vincent?"

"No ... no, my Catherine, you are not dreaming." He sat her at the side of the jacuzzi, the water bubbling around her neck and made sure she would not fall forward. Catherine had now, more or less, recovered from the effects of the ether and watched Vincent kneel down in front of her, his head and muscular shoulders, just above the water line. He began gently massaging life and feeling back into her feet and legs and Catherine closed her eyes, letting her head fall back onto the padded head rest, savoring the warmth that was slowly permeating her body - and the feel of Vincent's sensuous hands on her feet and legs.

Gradually, she began to feel thoroughly warmed through and Vincent watched as her color returned to normal. She watched him through hooded eyes, not able to see his body in any detail through the bubbling water, below the water line, but knowing he was there, close enough to reach out and ... touch! Through their bond, Vincent felt the power of her emotions and shyly raised his eyes to meet hers, overwhelmed by the hunger and longing he saw there, before realizing it was only the reflection of what he himself felt. As if by some silent, unspoken command, Catherine reached out, leaned forward and fiercely dragged him towards her, covering his face in wet, devouring, open-mouthed kisses, leaving him in no doubt where she was going to end up. He could not wait for her to get there and turned his mouth eagerly, hungrily, to devour hers.

All their previously rational, tight control deserted them in their frantic, undignified desperation to be part of each other, with Catherine straddled across him as the only way they could think of, to keep their heads above water. There was no holding back for either of them, whimpering with eagerness, losing themselves completely, crying out with the sheer joy of release when it came, they collapsed in total exhaustion, unable to move and having no desire to, even if they could have summoned up the energy. Vincent's hands moved up her body. Taking her head in his hands, he gazed into her eyes, gently kissing her wet face and her lips--without passion, just love.

"Catherine," he whispered, close to her mouth. "You were right. I lost myself totally and I did not hurt you. I was only a man, loving his woman." And he began kissing her again.

"I knew you'd never hurt me, Vincent, and I love you, loving me." She kissed his mouth and started to giggle. "I know something else - I feel very, very warm - come on, let's go and have a nice cool shower ... together!"

Cleon invited them to stay for supper but Vincent declined. He explained to Cleon that there was no way of knowing what Paracelsus would do next and he wanted to get home and make sure his family was safe, and also to reassure them that he and Catherine were well.

Cleon understood about persecution and prejudice and told them, "I admire your courage - you Vincent, for surviving as you are, without bitterness, and you Catherine, for loving him as he is, in spite of all the difficulties - and there must be many!" Cleon drove Catherine and Vincent to a dark, uninhabited alleyway, where there was a concealed entrance to the tunnels nearby. They parted friends - each offering help should the other need it.

As Catherine and Vincent made their way home through the tunnels, Paracelsus was returning to claim Vincent's body out of cold storage, estimating that he should be nicely frozen and very dead. He had two of his strong followers with him, carrying a stretcher. He was not concerned with the woman, Catherine - she was only the bait. What he was not prepared for was seeing the whole building lit up and swarming with police. They must have found Spirko - but had they found Vincent and the woman? He had better find out. He cursed and screamed inwardly, with pure frustration. Why did nothing work out the way he planned?

After giving Father a full account of their eventful evening, over bowls of William's thick soup and fresh bread rolls - of course leaving Father to draw his own conclusions over their experience in the jacuzzi - Catherine announced, "Well, after eating all that, I'll never sleep!"

Vincent's blue eyes gazed across at her and he smiled a secret smile, as if to say, Yes, my Catherine, that was the general idea.

It was a look that did not go unnoticed by Father and only confirmed what he already suspected - that the guest chamber would no longer be required by Catherine.

He smiled to himself, remembering what it was like to love and want someone so badly, wondering what the future would hold for these two courageous, and very special people.

***

SEVEN

They lay together, their bodies entwined, as closely as was physically possible. They were content, at peace, replete. He felt Catherine drift off to sleep and listened to her quiet, even breathing, as he relived the last incredible few hours they had spent in his bed.

To Vincent, it was still unbelievable that the love they shared was possible - and yet, she was here, in his arms, with absolutely nothing to separate them. The feel of her soft body.

Oh God, he wanted her again! Go to sleep, Vincent! he admonished himself. You have had more than your fair share - for tonight!

In the early hours of the morning, Pascal, who was on watch, received a verbal message that Paracelsus had been spotted, with one of his fearsome-looking followers, carrying what looked like a body. They had entered the tunnels by an entrance that had been sealed up for many years. In this emergency situation, even the most obscure entrances were observed, because Paracelsus would of course, have knowledge of them. They had all received instructions not to alert Paracelsus by sending messages on the pipes.

Father had been informed and was on his way to Vincent's chamber. Vincent was sleeping, the deepest, most peaceful sleep he had probably ever slept in his entire life. Normally he was awake to any sound, but this night Father had to literally shake him.

To Father, the miracle of finding these two beloved people curled up in bed, together, was a sight to behold. A lump came to his throat and he prayed, Dear God, please don't let anything happen to destroy what they have found.

Vincent forced his eyes open and with some difficulty, focused them on Father's face. "VIncent, sorry to wake you," he whispered. "But Paracelsus has been spotted, entering by a sealed up entrance on the south side of the docks."

Vincent rubbed his eyes in an effort to wake himself up. "Right Father, give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll see you in the dining chamber."

Not having the slightest inclination to move at all, he watched Father leave his chamber and Catherine raised her sleepy head from Vincent's chest.

"What's the matter, Vincent? What's happening?"

He kissed her face, then reluctantly pulled his arm from around her. "It's all right, my love, you can go back to sleep for a few more hours."

"Not without you, I can't," and she sat up, yawned and stretched. Vincent groaned. The sight of Catherine, naked and stretching before his eyes, drove all thoughts of Paracelsus from his mind, for a few stolen moments.

Pascal, Mary, William, Mouse, Jamie and Father were sitting around the dining table, drinking tea when Catherine and Vincent arrived. Two more beakers were filled for them.

Father opened the discussion by stating the obvious question. "What are we going to do about Paracelsus?"

No one answered, but all eyes turned to Vincent and knowing that they were all waiting for him to speak, he too stated what they all knew to be true. "Paracelsus does not want to destroy our world, or to have it discovered - he wants to rule it. He thinks I am all that stands in his way."

"You have always given us your protection, Vincent," Mary said.

"Yes, and I always will, as long as I am able - but up to now it has been Paracelsus who had called the tune and held the element of surprise. We were unprepared at Winterfest, then there was my terrible experience with the drugs. We were unprepared when he kidnapped Catherine and we were certainly taken by surprise last night, when Catherine and I were almost frozen to death." He reached for Catherine's hand. "We have got to turn the tables on him this time. I will go after him on my terms."

"No! Vincent, you can't - if anything should happen to you ...!" Catherine's hands were clasping his in panic.

"Catherine, listen to me. Paracelsus has made four attempts on us and we have got to know something of what he is capable of - but he does not know us. He does not know our strengths. Bring everyone in, Father. Secure our boundaries here and I will go after him, alone."

There was a unanimous, resounding, "NO!"

Vincent rose to his feet, releasing himself from Catherine's grasp. "Listen, all of you. Are we to sit and wait, with our backs to the wall, in fear, for that man to do his worst?" He walked around behind Catherine and placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her possessively to him. "Well, I for one, am not - it has gone on far too long. It must end and it is up to me to end it."

"You will kill him," Father stated, rather than asked.

"I do not think there will be any other way, Father, to make our world safe again." He looked around at all of them. "I have more to lose than any of you. This is my world and my home - the only place I can live - and this is my woman, who loves me, as I am. I am not about to have either taken from me."

"What will you do, Vincent?" Pascal asked.

"First, I am taking Catherine back to her apartment - she has to go to work."

"To Hell with work, I'd rather be here!"

Vincent sat down on the spare seat beside her and Catherine held onto his hands with both of hers. He could see the fear in her eyes.

"Catherine, I do not want any movement through the tunnels while I am away. You will be safe at work and I want you to ask a friend to stay with you at your apartment. I also think you should take Elliot up on his offer to put a man outside your door."

He felt Catherine about to argue and he gripped her hands. "Catherine, I want to be sure that you are safe so I do not have to worry about you - and you are better at work."

"All right, Vincent. Everything you say makes sense, but can I make a suggestion?" He nodded. "Could I have Jamie stay with me?" Jamie's face lit up, as Catherine continued. "My friends know nothing of my life here and I wouldn't feel so alone with Jamie staying with me."

Vincent spun himself around in his chair to look at Jamie's face. He shrugged and nodded. "That's settled then--and I think Jamie should come with us now."

Jamie moved discreetly out of view and earshot while Catherine and Vincent clung together, inside his cloak, her face buried into his neck, breathing in the scent of him and trying not to cry. "I'm not going to be able to work, worrying about you."

He held her face in his hands. "Listen," and he kissed her mouth. "I am the only person able to go after Paracelsus alone, Catherine. I can travel the most far flung tunnels silently and without the need of light. It is my domain down there."

"Is your night vision that good, Vincent?"

"The darkness is my friend, Catherine, not only my protection."

"I didn't know that."

"Not many people do, Catherine. I must go." His mouth came down on hers, tender, loving, gentle, kiss after kiss, then hard in desperate possession. Pulling her arms from around him and kissing her hands, he left abruptly, without looking back.

***

EIGHT

Apart from the clothes he stood up in, Vincent travelled light. William packed him chocolate, raisins, cheese and a nutritious biscuit that they all carried if they were likely to miss a meal. He also took just a small plastic flask of water, as clean drinking water was not a problem below ground. Everything was dispensed around the deep pockets of his cloak, wrapped in cloth instead of paper, so it would not crackle.

Vincent and Father hugged each other, then Vincent stood back, keeping hold of Father's shoulders.

"Father, if I am not back in three days, that is breakfast time Friday morning, send down a search party. Mouse will find me, he can track me down anywhere."

"Vincent is a good teacher," Mouse said and shyly hugged Vincent, mumbling into his chest. "Be careful, come back soon. Not same without Vincent."

"I will be more than careful, Mouse - and I am missing you already." Vincent looked around at them all, patted Catherine’s rose, which hung in the leather pouch around his neck, hugged Father again then turned and left the dining chamber.

While Catherine was having a quick shower and dressing for work, Jamie volunteered to make them breakfast. There were eggs to scramble and bread that would toast, coffee and jam that Mary had made.

Jamie said she would visit some friends, so she would not be alone all day.

Catherine had phoned Elliot several times before she had to leave for work but there was no reply. If she could not get through to him from work, she would contact Cleon. Jamie was happy with the days' prospects. She had a key to the apartment, she had been introduced to George on the desk downstairs and Cathy made sure she had money in her pocket to do some shopping.

They also made arrangements to meet for lunch and to pick up a take-away for their evening meal.

Cathy had still not found Elliot--no one knew where he was. She had more luck with Cleon. He was still at home and agreed, it was strange for Elliot to disappear without leaving any messages as to his whereabouts.

He would investigate and let her know. Cleon also told her not to worry, he would personally make sure there was a man outside her door for the next few nights.

It was fairly straight forward for Vincent to track Paracelsus, with one of his henchmen in tow, carrying a body. This fact alone meant they had to stick to tunnels without access difficulties.

Vincent moved easily, silently, listening and looking, seeing everything clearly, using all of his considerable skills that were innate to him. Right now he was grateful for them, because he suspected that he would need to draw on all his strengths and differences to come out of this--alive.

Cleon Manning walked into the DA's office shortly after Cathy had returned from lunch with Jamie. He could see her in Joe's office with her back to him. Cleon caught Joe's eye and pointed to Cathy.

"I think someone wants to see you, Radcliffe."

She turned around. "Cleon!"

"Would you mind if I stole Cathy for a minute, Mr Maxwell? I won't keep her."

"Yeah, go on. Take five."

"Thank you." He took Cathy's arm. "Can we go somewhere private?"

Joe overheard and shouted, "You can talk in here if you like, I'm going upstairs."

"Thanks Joe," and she and Cleon went inside the office and closed the door.

She could see Cleon was worried.

"Cathy, Elliot seems to have disappeared. You know what a night hawk he is - he frequently stays working half  the night in his office - needs hardly any sleep at all -and some nights he doesn't even bother going home.

“He didn't go home last night--but--he was seen leaving his office and entering the elevator in the early hours of the morning by the security guard, but no one saw him after that and his car is still in the garage."

A small worm of fear squirmed inside Cathy as thoughts began to take shape in her mind and she did not like any of the conclusions she was coming to.

"Cathy, you know something, don't you?"

"Cleon, it's just bits and pieces of information that are running through my mind - but what they are adding up to, does not bear thinking about."

"Come on, Cathy, spit it out!"

"Well, the night I was lured to that refrigeration depot, it was Elliot who asked me to go - at least it was his voice on the phone, but I discovered too late that it was Paracelsus who had impersonated him. He's a master impersonator, Cleon. He is so good, he could even be you!"

"Hey Cathy, don't even think that!"

"Cleon, Paracelsus was seen last night with one of his men  who was carrying a body, I think they've got Elliot!"

"Where?"

"I can't tell you."

“Hell, Cathy, I'm on your side - whatever your secrets, they're safe with me."

"I know that, Cleon, but you see I made a promise to Vincent and his family - and I can't break that promise. Will you just bear with me for the time being - I have the feeling that before this is over, you will know everything there is to know.”

"Okay, Cathy, for now."

She relaxed a little.

"What I would like to know, Cathy, is what this Paracelsus character wants with Elliot. He must have had a fair amount of contact with him, to impersonate his voice. I mean, he's a builder, not a TV personality. In fact, he must have watched you pretty closely too, for you to have no doubt that it was Elliot on the other end of the phone."

"Yes, but he knows me pretty well already. We’ve crossed swords before."

"Really?"

Cathy did not elaborate but asked, "Cleon, promise me you won't bring the police in on this - they couldn't go where Vincent's gone anyway."

"Cathy, has Vincent gone after him alone?"

"Yes, but it's his own back yard, so to speak. He's going after Paracelsus on his own terms."

"Cathy, what you're saying is, all we can do is wait?"

"Yes - but Vincent knows what he's doing. There is more to him than an unusual face and his clawed hands."

Cleon did not doubt that for one moment. Catherine had another thought that gave them both a shred of comfort.

“Paracelsus would not be carrying a dead body to where they are going, Cleon. Elliot will be alive."

Vincent had been walking almost continuously for fifteen hours and though he had taken short breaks to eat and drink, he knew he was long overdue for a proper rest. In the next suitable passageway, off the main route, he would settle down for a few hours’ sleep.

Cleon had taken it upon himself to watch over Catherine and Jamie, glad that she had the sense to have a friend to stay with her.

He did not spend the night on the chair outside Cathy's door but, at her invitation, took up residence on the couch while she and Jamie shared the bed.

As with all strangers, Jamie was at first, very wary of Cleon, but after a couple of hours in his company, she felt safe and comfortable with him.

Vincent woke with a start - something had disturbed him. He listened to the total silence.

He ate some cheese and a few raisins, had a drink of water, then wet a cloth with what water was left and gave his face and hands a wipe over. Feeling more refreshed, he made a move.

Vincent could not rid himself of the thought that some sound had disturbed him. Though sound could travel long distances underground, he wondered if Paracelsus was maybe not as far ahead as he thought - or maybe he was even nearer his destination.

All Vincent's unique senses were alert to his surroundings and, after walking in the silent stillness for some time, he experienced an uncanny sensation that he was not alone, yet he could neither see, nor hear anything to explain the feeling.

He moved like a dark silent shadow, his whole body tense with anticipation. The passage began to widen considerably but Vincent remained close to the wall. He stopped and listened again - there was absolute silence, except for the beating of his own heart--but he could feel a presence as if the stillness had been disturbed.

He continued searching for any indentations in the rock walls, where someone could hide or any sign of a trap, of something suspended from the room - and Vincent's night-sighted eyes could clearly have seen any detail that was not quite as it should be. And there was nothing - nothing that even Vincent could detect - and then, suddenly, without warning, the perfectly solid-looking rock floor collapsed beneath his feet and he was plummeted down into a black void, his heart stopping in fear, his stomach seeming to leap into his mouth and he screamed out his only thought.

CATHERINE!

Catherine sat bolt upright in bed. “VINCENT!” she screamed, pulling her hair back from her face. Jamie was instantly awake, arms around Cathy's shoulders as Cleon burst into the bedroom.

"What's the matter, Cathy? Bad dream, was it?"

Jamie knew different.

"No," Cathy answered. "Something has happened to Vincent!" she cried, "And we have got to go find him." Both girls leapt out of bed.

"I don't understand - how do you know?"

Jamie had rushed into the bathroom to get dressed and Cathy stood there, with her arms full of her jeans, sweater, shirt and underwear. She stared straight into Cleon's eyes.

"Because Vincent and I are connected, that's why. We share a special bond. I heard him cry out tonight, Cleon, and I felt his fear - the only reason for him screaming out my name like that, was if he was in terrible danger."

Jamie came out of the bathroom. "It's all yours, Cathy."

Cathy nodded her thanks. "Jamie, will you get those things out we bought today? There are two rucksacks in that wardrobe over there." She pointed to the wardrobe in question, then disappeared into the bathroom.

Cleon stood there, feeling totally out of his depth. He followed Jamie through to the kitchen, where she was putting a box of three dozen chocolate bars, two pounds of hard cheese, two large packs of raisins and two packs of chocolate chip cookies onto the worktop.

Cleon was absolutely bewildered. Deciding that the chocolate bars would be easier to pack loose, Jamie asked Cleon to hold one of the rucksacks, while she tipped them in, distributing the rest of the stuff between the two bags.

Cleon could not contain himself. He almost shouted in his frustration. "Jamie! For God's sake, tell me where you're going - and if you think you're leaving me behind, you'll have to tie me up and gag me first!"

Cathy came through, one hand full of clean underwear and a small hand towel with soap, toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. These she stuffed into the pockets of one of the rucksacks. She turned and looked Cleon up and down. He was dressed for comfort in jeans and sweatshirt, with good quality trainers on his feet.

"You'll do," she said. "Did you bring a warm coat with you, Cleon?"

"Yes, it's in the car, downstairs ... why?"

"Come on then, we'll pick it up on the way out."

Jamie held Cathy's arm. "Cathy, you mean we are taking Cleon with us?"

"Yes Jamie, we are. We can hardly leave him here and he's as much a part of this as anyone. Vincent and I would not be here at all, fi it was not for Cleon --nd besides," she grinned, "we don't have the time to tie him up and gag him!"

***

NINE

Vincent had fallen into a natural crevasse with sheer rock sides and from where he was standing, it looked to be about fifteen feet deep. It was like a sunken gallery, maybe twenty-five feet long and the width ranged from ten feet to about sixteen. The whole length of the floor was reasonably flat.

Even the unexpectedness of his fall had not prevented him from landing with a certain grace, and he was grateful that nothing was broken - but he was afraid, and with good cause.

Paracelsus had utilized this natural fault with his usual cunning and Vincent cursed himself for not treating his final approach as if it was a potential minefield.

This sunken gallery was in the entrance to a high domed cavern and had been simply camouflaged with two large sheets of tarpaulin, pulled taut, anchored down with boulders and scattered with dust and pebbles. The tarpaulins were now being pulled back.

“Ah, Vincent, we meet again," said the self-satisfied voice of Paracelsus from the tip of the fifteen foot drop.

Brilliant spot lights were suddenly beamed down onto Vincent, blinding him completely and he roared his protest.

"This time, Vincent, you will not escape - there is no one here to help you." His voice had become menacing and filled with unknown threats.

Vincent roared up at him and, still dazzled by the bright lights, had pulled the hood of his cloak over his eyes in an attempt to shut it out. Then he felt something sharp stab him in the back of his hand and his forearm. He swatted them off and felt another stab his thigh, twice, three times and he could not see where they were coming from, to try and avoid the attack.

They were coming at him from all sides and although some did not pierce his clothes, many more did and Vincent's one concern was for his eyes, so he crouched on his hands and knees, but still they rained down on him. He realized that Paracelsus was using a tranquilizer gun on him and that there was nothing he could do. He felt himself drifting, drifting, away ...and into oblivion.

At first, Father was angry with Catherine for bringing a stranger into their world, but when she and Cleon told him the probability of Elliot having been kidnapped by Paracelsus, plus, knowing that Vincent had a high regard for this man, he apologized for his anger and welcomed Cleon into their midst.

He did not doubt for one moment that Catherine had heard Vincent's distress call and was quite impressed with the extra provisions she had brought in. Everyone who was not on watch, or in the nursery with the children, were up and dressed and sitting around the dining table, drinking endless cups of tea, plied by Mary and William.

Father was speaking. "With a strong possibility that both Vincent and Elliot could well be injured - and I refuse to even think beyond that - there has to be four strong men on this trip, in case they need carrying home on stretchers, with Mouse as the tracker, of course."

"And I am going as well, Father," Cathy stated in a voice that brooked no argument.

Father sighed. "Cathy, is that really wise? It is not easy walking hour after hour and even, day after day, in the dark, on uneven ground, watching for low ceilings and rocks that jut out at you. There could even be rivers or lakes to negotiate - plus trying to sleep on rough, hard ground."

"Father, Vincent is down there and he needs me - and that thought alone, will get me there."

Father nodded, knowing that she would go, whatever the problems, and marvelled again at this woman's courage and the love she had for his son.

Two hours later, they were almost ready and had decided that a small party would go down first, made up of Kanin, Cleon, Mouse and Catherine.  Jamie insisted on going too, to keep Cathy company.

Kanin, Mouse and Jamie were all seasoned underground travellers and although Cleon had never done this kind of thing before, he was extremely fit and did not suffer from claustrophobia. Added to that, he had trained as a paramedic in his early twenties and this eased Father's mind a great deal, so he was of course put in charge of the medical supplies.

It was amazing how much only essential equipment there was to take and each had to carry their own supplies, as well as their condensed and nutritious food supply, candles, matches, lengths of rope, two blankets. By the time it was all together, each carried quite a backpack and Kanin and Cleon both carried the collapsible stretchers and extra blankets besides.

They were each issued with a hard hat, with a candle fixed in the front - primitive, but it worked - and each carried a torch and spare batteries in their pockets, in case of emergencies.

William saw to it that they all ate a good breakfast before setting off and Cathy left a letter for Joe, with a plausible excuse for her absence from work, asking Father if he would make sure it was delivered.

As Kanin said goodbye to his own family, Father hugged Catherine fiercely to him. "Please God, that he is safe - bring my son home to me, Cathy - for both of us ... and Elliot too. He does not deserve any of this."

"We will, we will," and she hugged him tight and kissed him on his mouth.

"Go with care, all of you," and he hugged Jamie and Mouse to him and shook Cleon's and Kanin's hands, as they all departed with Mouse in the lead. Mouse was going to leave markers for the second backup team to follow and they would set off twenty four hours behind them.

***

TEN

Elliot had regained consciousness and quite literally wondered if he had died and ended up in Hell!

He was in a large cavern with flaming torches fixed all around the walls and as he gradually became more aware of his surroundings, he was horrified to find that he was manacled by his wrists and ankles and chained to the wall.

He sat there, with his back to the rock wall holding his manacled hands up in disbelief - it was like his worst nightmare, like something out of the middle ages.

He was still too befuddled to think clearly and desperately thirsty. He heard a voice above him and turned to look up at a tall man, dressed entirely in black and who looked somehow, vaguely familiar.

"Ah, Mr Burch, you're awake - good. Extremely well timed. Here, drink this." He handed Elliot a bowl filled with water.

He guzzled it down, spilling water on his shirt - his jacket had been removed.

The man in black introduced himself. "I am known as Paracelsus and I happen to know that you are a friend of Catherine Chandler. A close friend."

The way this man spoke the last three words, somehow made Elliot's skin crawl and he neither confirmed nor denied what he had stated.

"Mr Burch," Paracelsus drawled, "Did you know that the lady Catherine has a man in her life?"

Elliot still did not answer, mainly because he could not figure out - at the moment -  where this conversation was leading. However, he was soon to find out.

"Well, no matter, because you are going to meet the man in Miss Chandler's life - and then we shall see what you think of your dear friend, Catherine!"

He ordered his large, bearded assistant to release Elliot from the wall fixture and with the manacles still attached to his wrists and ankles, he had to be practically carried across the floor. Elliot thought for one heart-stopping moment that he was going to be thrown into what appeared to be a deep, black void in front of him, but he was pushed down to sit on the edge.

The black void was then flood lit, to reveal Vincent sprawled out, fifteen feet below. He was laying flat on his stomach, arms splayed out in front of him, with his head on one side, showing his face in full profile and his golden hair spread out like a halo.

"Well?" Paracelsus drawled.

Elliot shrugged. "He's an unusual man - must be pretty special."

"Oh, loyal to the last," he said sarcastically. "So compassionate and understanding - such dignity and restraint, just like Vincent ... Did you know his name was Vincent?"

Elliot did not answer.

It was pure instinct that prevented Elliot from telling this lunatic that he not only knew Vincent but liked him, admired him and counted him as a friend. The fact that he thought Paracelsus was totally mad, was something that would be confirmed without doubt, during the next few minutes.

Paracelsus turned to his seemingly simple-minded assistant and ordered menacingly. "Get down in there with the beast and strip him!"

The man stood, mouth open, as if he did not understand.

"DO IT!" screamed Paracelsus.

A ladder that had been held at the side of the cavern wall was brought and lowered into the gallery and the man descended into its depths.

Elliot watched him kneel down at Vincent's side and began removing his cloak. Even from where Elliot was sitting, he could see that the large man took no pleasure in it.

Elliot felt sick - that Vincent be reduced to this.

Paracelsus stood behind Elliot and even talking quietly, caused the hair to stand on the back of his neck.

He leered,  “Now you’re going to see what the lovely Catherine takes to her bed! Imagine the obscenity of her copulating with a beast, an animal … feel the revulsion!”

Elliot spoke quietly, but every word was spelt out with precision. "The only revulsion I feel is for you!"

Paracelsus grabbed a handful of Elliot's hair, dragged his head back and held the point of his thin stiletto blade to his neck, just piercing the skin below his right jaw, releasing a small stream of blood to trickly down his neck.

"If I did not have something very special in mind for you, Mr Burch, I would slit your throat, here and now!"

He released Elliot's hair, straightened up and moved a few feet away, leaving Elliot shocked and trembling.

Elliot looked down at Vincent, who was now naked and had been rolled over onto his back. What he saw, was nothing that one of the glossy magazines would pay a fortune for, to have him spread across their centrefold.

Vincent's clothes were gathered together, carried up the ladder and the ladder removed. Elliot sat there, wishing he could stop trembling, fighting against allowing his fear to get the better of him.

Then Vincent began to stir.

He put an arm over his eyes, to shut out the bright lights, then growled and lifted his head. Elliot had never thought about him being able to growl and it came as a surprise to him.

Vincent, shielding his eyes with his hands, looked down at his body. Suddenly a great roar erupted from him--something between a roar and a resounding,

"NO!"

Catherine stopped dead in her tracks and involuntarily cried out his name.

"Vincent!"

Her hand went to her mouth to control the distress she felt.

"God! What are they doing to him?"

No one questioned Catherine's direct link-up with Vincent's emotions, which seemed to be growing stronger.

They were all due for a break but Cathy, in her frustration, wanted to continue.

Kanin, who had become expert over the years at travelling long distances underground, took her by the shoulders and gave her a lecture on the dangers of travelling through this uncertain terrain, when concentration is lost, due to exhaustion, lack of food, of whatever. He ended by ruling that they would continue to break for fifteen minutes, every two hours and have a four hour rest after the first twelve hours.

Catherine knew he was right and apologized for being silly and irresponsible.

"Cathy," he said, "We all feel as you do - well maybe not quite the same," and he grinned. "But we have to be realistic. Vincent hit trouble nineteen hours after leaving home and it's no good kidding ourselves that we will reach him in the same length of time - but we will get there. We do have the best tracker in the business."

Mouse chirped up. "Second best - Vincent is best." Everyone smiled and relaxed for their short break.

***

ELEVEN

Vincent's heart was beating like a sledge hammer in his chest. His whole body glistened with perspiration--fear. His breath was coming in short ragged gasps and he had never felt so vulnerable in his life, as he crouched against the wall of his prison.

This was worse than any nightmare Vincent could imagine. Until Catherine, he had spent his entire life concealing his body from prying eyes. No one had ever seen him like this since he was a very small child - until Catherine ... Catherine ... Would he ever see her again? Tears sprang into his eyes.

"Vincent," the dulcet tones of Paracelsus drew his attention. "I have someone here to see you," he drawled and the lights were diverted to Elliot, sitting in his manacles on the edge of the fifteen foot drop.

The two men could see each other clearly.

Vincent was horrified, seeing Elliot sitting there in chains, at the mercy of Paracelsus and tears of despair spilled down his face, as he gazed fearfully up at him - but he saw no trace of disgust or revulsion in Elliot's face, only compassion, fear ... tears.

"Elliot," he whispered in the silence. "I'm sorry, Elliot."

"So am I, Vincent, so am I," he replied. As the tears spilled down his face, the friendship that existed between them was obvious from the tones of their voices.

Paracelsus grabbed Elliot by his hair again as Vincent roared in protest. "You lied, Elliot Burch - you do know Vincent!"

Elliot's eyes glared up at him in defiance. "No, I did not lie, you assumed - and I am both proud and honored to have Vincent as my friend!"

"In a little while, Mr Burch, you may wish to eat your words!" He let go of Elliot's hair abruptly and straightened up. He took a plastic bag filled with some kind of white phosphorescent powder out of his pocket. He began walking around the perimeter of the gallery, scattering handfuls of the powder, like a farmer sowing seeds and there was no way Vincent could escape the fallout.

It took a moment or two for Elliot to realize what was happening, then he saw the look of total horror on Vincent's face and realized all too well.

Before Paracelsus had covered more than half the gallery, Vincent was already losing his control as the powdered drug took its instantaneous effect. Shaking his head, his long golden mane swinging around his bare shoulders, he made low guttural growls as he tried to clear his head and hang onto his sanity, then flung his head back with a full blown roar as he knew he had lost the battle.

He flung himself against the rough rock wall of the gallery, breaking the skin on his shoulders and thighs and drawing blood, then seemed to ricochet into the opposite wall, causing more broken skin and blood, as the madness consumed him and the beast within him now ruled his whole being, destroying all in him that was Vincent.

Elliot sat there, chained like an animal himself, too shocked to feel anything except to wonder how a man could sink to such evil, inflict such pain and suffering on another human being.

He watched Paracelsus shake out the empty plastic bag without a thought for the tortured soul below, before turning and walking toward Elliot - and Elliot knew now why he had been brought here - he was going to die and Vincent was going to kill him, except that it was no longer Vincent in the gallery before him.

Elliot saw Paracelsus release the thin stiletto blade into his hand as he approached and then, something else caught his eye ... He hardly dared to breathe or blink or move his head.

Coming up behind Paracelsus was his large assistant with a fair sized boulder in his hand. Because of the horrendous sounds coming up from Vincent, Paracelsus was oblivious to what was happening behind him until the boulder was brought down onto the back of his head and he slumped to the ground, sprawling forwards. Elliot could not move fast enough or far enough to avoid the lethal blade that sliced into his thigh.

He screamed in agony as the other man removed the thin blade and rolled Paracelsus over the edge to land at Vincent's feet below.

There were more ferocious sounds of vicious snarling and tearing and then blood curdling screams from Paracelsus were heard.

Elliot closed his eyes tight in fear and pain, waiting for his own end to come. Nothing happened. Instead, he felt strong hands grasp him under his arms and pull him away from the edge.

The pain in his thigh was unbelievable with the added weight of the manacles but he was leant up against a nearby wall. Sweat poured from him, both with the pain and relief.

He opened his eyes and rubbed his hands over his bearded face, the chains clanking against his chest. He looked at this man who had saved his life. Elliot knew he was tall, probably taller than Vincent, but not as muscular and under his bearded face Elliot could see that he could be no more than twenty-five years old, with kind brown eyes that right now, were filled with horror and pain.

Grimacing as another wave of pain shot down his thigh, he took a deep breath and said, "Thank you--for saving my life. What's your name?"

"Benny."

"I'm Elliot. Benny, can you get me out of these manacles, please?"

Benny inclined his head towards the horrendous sounds still coming from the gallery below them. "He has the key."

"Oh! Well maybe, we'd better wait a while," and he smiled painfully at this young man.

Benny had obviously endured his own share of suffering. He stood up and went over to a wooden chest on the far side of the cavern. A few minutes later, he came back with a clean cotton long-sleeved vest, to use as a dressing and a bowl of water.

"I'm sorry, Elliot, I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Don't look so worried, Benny, I think I'll live."

A few minutes later, Elliot had been cleaned up and had a very efficient field dressing in his leg. Benny helped him to sit on a couple of folded blankets for comfort and covered him up with two more, as he was beginning to shiver with the shock. The actual temperature in the cavern was quite reasonable.

A thought passed through Elliot's mind. "Benny, where exactly are we?"

Benny looked as if he did not want to tell him, it was something he did not like to think about. "We are more than a whole day's journey below ground."

"You're joking?"

"No."

"Do you know your way back?"

"No - it's very easy to get lost down here."

I'll bet it is! thought Elliot.

Benny looked frightened.

Elliot felt panic rising in himself too and knew he had to keep it battered down. Vincent was still rampaging about below in his drug-crazed fury and Elliot knew there was nothing they could do to help him at the moment. He galvanized his thoughts into action.

"Right, Benny! Turn off all the spot lights - we may need them later. Then find out how many candles we have and how much food. I can't imagine we need worry about drinking water down here."

Benny came back a few minutes later with two flaming torches that he fixed into holders on the wall. He told Elliot, "We have a good supply of candles and there are plenty of biscuits and dried fruit; some chocolate and cheese."

"Hmmmm," Elliot pondered. "Well, it's all a bit basic, but we're not going to starve - not for a while yet anyway. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling sick with hunger."

While they were eating, Elliot asked, "When the drug effects have worn off, do you think we could get Vincent out of there? We have to get him well again, Benny - Vincent is our ticket out of here."

Benny thought about this. "He is bigger than you and more ... solid. I don't think the ladder would take both our weights - and what ... if he ... ."

Elliot could see what Benny was thinking. "Benny, it was the drugs that made Vincent the way he is. They are the kinds of drugs that would drive the strongest man insane. Believe me, Vincent is the kindest, gentlest soul you could ever wish to meet - you help him and you'll have a friend for life - in fact, you'll have two friends."

"Who?"

"Me!"

Although Benny was slow and easily confused, he was far from stupid and given time, he could quite often came up with ideas. "There is plenty of rope, maybe I could pull him out - we could make some kind of stretcher."

"I like the stretcher idea," said Elliot encouragingly. "But to pull Vincent out, we'd need a block and tackle, or some kind of pulley system."

Benny shook his head. "There's nothing like that down here."

"Well, we must think of something. I don't want Vincent coming to in that hell hole, he'll be having enough nightmares as it is."

Benny stared at Elliot. "You care about Vincent, don't you?"

Elliot knew he did care and told Benny, "Vincent is a good man - whatever he looks like or appears to be and he is very special to a lot of people. I'll tell you something else, Benny, there is a very beautiful lady who lives in New York and she's also a good friend of mine. Well, she loves Vincent more than anything in this world and we have got to get him back to her!"

"What's this lady's name?"

"Catherine."

***

TWELVE

Catherine now fully understood what Kanin had been talking about at the start of this expedition. They had been going for almost twelve hours and at the next convenient stopping place, they were going to take their much needed four hour break.

Catherine had thought she was pretty fit, but she ached in places she did not know she had and her eyes ached so much from constantly peering into the blackness, she wanted to take them out and nurse them.

Cleon was not much better, finding the constant, enveloping blackness more debilitating than he had imagined it would be. They were both highly impressed with Mouse's abilities to lead them through the maze of tunnels and passageways--sometimes they were reduced to single file and sometimes the ceilings dropped so low, they had to bend down, almost on all fours, but all in all, it was not too bad.

They had kept their spirits up by telling funny stories, talking about themselves, singing, playing games, as they went along but for the past half hour, they were all too tired to speak.

Catherine had tried desperately to reach out to Vincent with her mind but although she knew he was there and alive, she felt that he was somehow lost to her.

Vincent had finally collapsed on the floor of the gallery and even with all Elliot's assurances, it was with great fear and trepidation that Benny descended the ladder. Keeping a wary eye on Vincent, he went to the ravaged and unrecognizable body of Paracelsus and found the keys clipped to his belt. Benny had brought one of the large sheets of tarpaulin with him and he unfolded it, covering Paracelsus, the blood and gore that surrounded him and more than half the floor of the gallery as well, and stamped it down well around the edges. Taking another look at Vincent, he ascended the ladder to release a very relieved Elliot from his shackles. Benny had organized something that Elliot could use as a crutch, enabling him to move around if he needed to, and of course, he went to the edge of the gallery to have a look at Vincent.

He was curled up in the foetal position and Elliot could see that his body was covered in many, very bad looking cuts and abrasions, bruises and dried blood from his continual, demented drug-induced crashing into the rough rock wall and his attack on Paracelsus.

Elliot came to a decision. "Benny - I am going to lower myself down in there with Vincent. If I knot a rope every few inches, I'll manage it."

Benny stood, moving nervously from foot to foot.

"It's not very nice down there, Elliot."

"I know it's not very nice, Benny. That's why I don't want Vincent waking up, cold, injured, afraid -and alone. Now, have I got your help?"

"Yes, tell me what to do," he answered without hesitation.

"Is there a way we can heat some water?"

"Yes."

"Good - you go and start that first then." Half an hour later they had everything ready and piled up on the edge of the gallery, ready to go down. They had even taken the thin mattress and pillow from Paracelsus' bed.

Elliot had knotted a double thickness of rope at regular intervals and Benny anchored it securely around a column of rock, some yards into the cavern.

They dropped everything over the edge onto the tarpaulin below, then Elliot lowered himself over the edge. His injured leg throbbed like a toothache, but having something to think about took his mind off it.

Benny went down the ladder with Elliot's crutch and to make sure he landed all right. Then he spread the second tarpaulin over the other half of the gallery floor, apart from where Vincent lay. Elliot had explained to him that he did not know if the powered drug that Paracelsus had scattered around would still be active or not, though Elliot knew that the atmosphere would be clear of it.

Having done that, Benny went back above for the hot water, bowl, soap and cloths to bathe him with.

As they, between them, gently cleaned him up and rolled him over onto the soft mattress, Elliot felt that Vincent was more than just asleep. He searched for the pulse at the base of his neck and although it was there and steady, it was very, very slow. He put his head on Vincent's chest to listen to his heart. That too was steady, but very slow.

Elliot sat back.

"Benny, I think Vincent has gone into a coma."

"What's that mean?"

"It means he might not wake up!"

It took them quite a while to get Vincent cleaned up and Elliot found a certain satisfaction that he had accomplished this unpleasant task, without any feelings of revulsion - at least not towards Vincent.

They dressed him in his vest and shirt and then covered him in blankets and his cloak.

Elliot's leg was bleeding again with all his exertions and it was unbelievably painful, but he was pleased to have given Vincent some of his dignity back.

Benny changed Elliot's dressing and checked that the wound was still clean and uninfected, then went up to get them both something to eat.

He lowered everything down in a bag on the end of a rope, then came down the ladder, with a jug of hot coffee and two tin mugs tied to his belt. He had extinguished all the candles above, with the exception of one wall torch, burning close to the gallery.

They lit half a dozen thick candles that would burn for a long time and utilized everything Benny could find to make them more comfortable.

Within their own small circle of light, which gave an illusion of cosiness, they ate their meal and enjoyed their hot coffee then settled down to sleep. They were both totally exhausted.

***

THIRTEEN

Apart from the first few hours of exhausted sleep, Elliot slept badly. His body ached from the constant contact with the unyielding rock floor and every time he managed to drift off to sleep, he had nightmares of being buried alive.

Away from their cocoon of yellow candle light was a blackness so total, it appeared to be solid and Elliot kept thinking that without the candles, the darkness would engulf them.

The thought terrified him and he tried to think of more pleasant things - like places he had visited, his work, people he had met ... Catherine!

In the absolute silence of this world below ground, the slightest sound could be magnified and carried over long distances.

Elliot and Benny both heard such a sound and both were instantly awake, listening. "What do you think it can be, Benny?"

"I don't know, but it's coming this way. I'll go up top and light the place up a bit." He lit all the wall torches which brought the cavern to life, then picking up a flashlight, he shouted down to Elliot.

“I'm going down the entrance tunnel to see if I can make out what it is."

"Yeah, well, don't be too long, I don't fancy being left alone down here!" Elliot quite openly admitted as he listened to Benny's footsteps echoing down the tunnel.

Vincent was exactly the same as he had been hours before - his heart and pulse steady but slow. Elliot was worried about dehydration and did not really know what to do about it. He had kept dribbling water into his mouth and moistening his lips with a damp cloth but that was all he could think of to do.

Elliot heard Benny returning and he was running. He hauled himself to his feet.

"Elliot! Elliot!" Benny shouted excitedly down to him. "I can hear voices - people!"

Elliot waved his crutch in the air in jubilation. "Well, get back down here, Benny. Yell your head off - bring 'em in!"

Catherine and Cleon had become used to the darkness and had walked through their aches and pains of these unaccustomed traveling conditions.

They were both now moving easily along, with plenty of energy left over for talking, though Cathy doubted she would have managed quite so well without Jamie's help and support. Just going off somewhere to the toilet would have been a somewhat terrifying experience on her own.

Mouse and Kanin were in front, with Cathy and Jamie behind, talking as they went along and Cleon bringing up the rear. Suddenly Mouse and Kanin stopped and told everyone to shush. In the distance, an echoing voice was shouting.

"Hello! Hello!"

"Come on," Kanin said. "I think we've arrived - but just take it easy, we don't know what to expect."

Cathy dropped down the last two steps of the ladder and into Elliot's arms. He battled with tears of relief and joy - and could not believe his eyes when he saw Cleon stepping off the ladder behind her.

"Cleon?! Cleon!" exclaimed Elliot incredulously and the two men first shook hands, grinning like Cheshire cats; hugged each other, slapping each other's back at the same time, then turned to watch Cathy on her knees at the side of Vincent.

He looked so still, Catherine had to lay her head on his chest and listen to his heart to reassure herself. Then, putting her arm under his head, she gathered as much of him to her as she could, holding him close and nuzzled his cut, grazed and bruised face with hers, gently kissing him and touching him, tears spilling down his face, and murmuring softly.

“Oh my love, what has happened to you?” She rocked him too and fro. “Please don’t die – just hang on my Vincent, we’ve come to take you home.”

Catherine looked up at Elliot through tear-filled eyes.

"How badly is he injured, Elliot? What happened here? And you? You're hurt too-what has happened?"

Elliot looked haunted. "It's better you don't know, Cathy."

"But you will tell us anyway, Elliot. We all want to know."

"Yes," echoed Cleon. "What the hell has gone on down here?"

Mouse and Jamie knelt at either side of Vincent. Both of them were crying, distressed at seeing how still he was and all the abrasions and bruises on his hands and face. Vincent was the most important person in their world.

Elliot was not looking forward to rehashing the horrible events of the past hours, but he knew the one thing he did want to do and he told them. "Let’s just get Vincent up out of this hell hole!" He looked up at Benny, who had stayed up top, with Kanin. "One thing I will tell you ... if it has not been for Benny, we would all be dead and Paracelsus would have been waiting for you - or maybe not waiting for you! Anyway, what there is left of him, is under the tarpaulin at the other end!"

Benny stood looking down on all these people who cared so much about Vincent - and each other. He had not known affection or kindness since he had been a very small boy, nor had he seen much evidence of its existence - until now.

Elliot had treated him kindly and Benny was glad that Paracelsus was dead and he no longer had to live in fear.

No one wanted to take a break and, like Elliot, their one thought was to bring Vincent up out of his prison. He was strapped into one of the collapsible stretchers they had brought with them and three double thicknesses of rope were secured and fastened around him. Everything was checked and double-checked, then Kanin, Cleon and Benny hauled their precious cargo to the surface.

When everything they could use had been taken up, Elliot tied a rope around himself and he too, was hauled safely up the rock wall.

All this exertion caused his wound to re-open and start bleeding again and, after replacing the dressing, Cleon told him it would need stitching when they returned home.

Elliot watched Catherine bathing Vincent's hands and face with antiseptic. It was not easy for him to tell her, but he knew he must.

"Cathy, it isn't only his hands and face ...he's like that all over, only worse, much worse. Benny and I cleaned him up as best we could."

She turned to Elliot, a look of pure horror on her face, seeing only compassion and pain in his eyes. "Elliot, you have to tell me." She looked around her. "You have to tell us all what happened here." Everyone was close by and gathered around.

Elliot took a deep breath. "Yes, well ... I'm only going to go through this the one time, so I'll start at the beginning. I don't remember what night it was, only that I worked late. I said goodnight to the security officer as I entered the elevator and that's the last thing I remember until I came to down here, shackled hand and foot and chained to the wall."

Elliot told them everything that had happened which was not easy, especially about Vincent's suffering but it had to be told.

He praised Benny again, for all that he did and they all agreed that Paracelsus deserved to die.

When Elliot had finished, no one could think of anything to say. It had distressed them all and Mouse and Jamie were in tears.

Catherine was too shocked to cry and she hugged Elliot. "Thank you for telling us, Elliot--we needed to know."

She turned to Benny, taking his hand in both of hers. "And thank you, Benny, we owe you a lot."

At Catherine's request, Vincent was carried to a secluded recess at the back of the cavern where she could tend to the rest of his wounds in more privacy, with Cleon close by if she needed any help.

Cleon was no doctor, but he knew how serious the after-effects and withdrawal symptoms of a drug overdose could be and he wondered if Cathy did. He decided to talk to her about it, as soon as he could.

Cathy had made up a bed on the floor for Vincent, using the thin mattress and pillow and, there were plenty of blankets. Cleon and Benny lifted him onto it and Cathy fussed around him, settling him in.

"Cathy," Cleon ventured, "Do you realize that whatever kind of drug Paracelsus used on Vincent, it was enough to lay out an army!"

"Yes, I know," Cathy agreed fearfully. "Paracelsus cultivated his own supply - I discovered this through a drug bust I was working on last year. To my knowledge, the same drug has caused the deaths of fifty people and Paracelsus also murdered a close friend of mine.

"When Vincent was forced to go after him, to try and stop him causing more deaths and putting our world at risk, he used the drug on Vincent too.  It drove him out of his mind--he even attacked Father!"

"The violent effects of the drug are not what I'm thinking about right now, Cathy. Vincent's in a deep coma. It could be permanent!"

Cathy stared at him, her eyes filled with pain and she voiced Cleon's unspoken thoughts.

"What you are trying to say is he may never regain consciousness, and even if he does, he could be little more than a vegetable!"

Cleon nodded.

"Well," Catherine said, more to reassure herself, "Vincent is no ordinary man - maybe his strengths and differences will help him to come through it all."

I hope so, Cathy - I hope so, Cleon thought to himself. "Yes Cathy, I hope he does have the strength to come through it because whatever he has suffered up to now, the withdrawal symptoms will be worse!"

They all agreed that it would be better to wait for the second rescue team to arrive, so they could all return together and, after having something to eat and drink, they settled down to try and get some rest.

No one actually stood watch because no one really slept, but restlessly mulled over their own thoughts and fears. What torture Vincent and Elliot had suffered, had a disquieting effect on everyone.

Suddenly Vincent started growling, deep and menacing, the sound reverberating off the cavern walls, making the hair stand up on the backs of everyone's necks. It was a sound to incite fear into the hearts of all who heard it.

Catherine, who had been laying close beside him, her hand in his, was instantly on her knees, leaning across his chest and gently caressing his face, soothing him.

"Shhh, it's all right, Vincent. I'm here, no one will hurt you. You're safe."

The growling subsided.

His eyes were wide open - blue and staring - but they were not the kind, gentle, intelligent eyes they all knew; they were haunted, strange, afraid - and without a trace of recognition ... for anyone.

Yet his arm and hand, with his deadly claws, was holding Catherine to him, in his normal, gentle manner and she was totally without fear of him.

Kanin and Mouse approached and the rumbling growl started up again. Catherine continued stroking his face and chest in an effort to keep him calm. She saw his lip curl menacingly and she smoothed her fingers along his mouth in an attempt to keep him peaceful.

"Vincent, no," she pleaded. "It's all right, no one will hurt you."

Without warning, he sat up, snarling ferociously, fangs and the claws on his free hand bared. Kanin and Mouse fled!

Catherine was still held close against him, knowing on a deeper level through their bond, that she had no need to fear him. Gradually she persuaded him to lay back down, gave him a sip of cold tea and began singing a lullaby, as if she was settling a fretful child to sleep.

She listened to his deep, even breathing, then carefully maneuvered herself up onto her feet. Making sure he was still asleep, she went out of their secluded corner. She had something to discuss with the others - but hesitated knowing in her own mind that this was something that was not up for debate.

"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Cleon, trying not to shout for fear of disturbing Vincent.

Elliot was equally horrified. "Leave you here, alone, with Vincent! You had better go and look under that tarpaulin, Cathy - and make no mistake about it, he'd have done exactly the same to me," he hissed at her. "Hell Cathy, he's full of drugs - you don't know how's he's going to be - it's possible he may never recover from them. He could tear you to pieces and not know he'd done it!" Elliot was frantic.

Cleon took hold of her shoulders. "Cathy, listen to me - ordinary men go through hell in drug withdrawal symptoms - the pain, fevers, hallucinations. Many don't survive at all. You would not be safe, Cathy!"

But Cathy stood firm, knowing, without a doubt in her mind that she was doing the right thing - for all of them. "No Cleon, it is you who would not be safe - you would all be in danger, our world Below, would not be safe. Vincent cannot go back home until he has come through all of this - and the only person who can see him through it is me!"

"Why you, for God's sake?" Elliot asked almost in anger, and Cathy went to him, feeling the fear he felt for her.

She placed her hands on his chest and looked up into his handsome face, knowing he would always be there for her. "Listen, Elliot -Vincent could never hurt me. Whatever the circumstances, he will always make sure I'm safe."

"My God!" a disbelieving Elliot said, "I wish I could be that sure!"

"Well, you're just going to have to trust me on this - believe me - I know what I'm doing and I've every intention of going back to the DA's office - and trying to stop you getting away with your more hare-brained schemes!"

She grinned at him and he hugged her, accepting that he had lost.

"Now!" Giving them no chance to argue further, she carried on. "I know there is enough food and candles. Benny, would you fill a few containers with water for me, in case I'm unable to leave him, there's four large flashlights and my own torch and batteries, plenty of blankets. Leave anything behind you don't think you'll need, but I want you all packed up and ready to go in fifteen minutes and I don't want anyone near the place for seven days!"

Everyone packed their belongings quietly. Catherine sat and watched occasionally, going to check on Vincent but he had not moved. Benny showed her where all the provisions were and how to use the small stove for heating water.

Cathy had the distinct impression that they all thought she was quite mad and when they had all loaded up and were ready to go, no one knew what to say so she spoke.

"Listen, all of you. When Vincent was a young boy, he was very sick. Father was unable to control him and Vincent had to be restrained. Father told me that it was the most terrible dark time he ever had to live through. He also told me that if Vincent were ever sick like that again, for whatever reason, they would be unable to control him. There would be no way and Vincent would have to be destroyed - shot!"

Jamie and Mouse began to cry. Mouse blubbered, "We can't let Vincent die - not be same without Vincent!"

"No, it wouldn't, Mouse. Vincent is the light in our lives."

She put her arms around Jamie and Mouse. "Now, promise me, you won't come back for seven days - and I don't want you camping at the end of the passageway."

They both nodded their heads miserably.

"And I want you to tell Father everything that has happened. He will understand why I am doing this and he will also know that I am safe. Vincent won't hurt me."

Elliot shook his head. He could not come to terms with this at all. "Cathy, I wish I knew that you will be safe."

"Just believe it, Elliot," and she hugged him to her. He didn't want to let her go. She hugged Kanin and Cleon and, to Benny's surprise, she hugged him too.

Elliot was settled into a stretcher and it was a very sombre group who walked away, leaving Cathy - alone.

***

FOURTEEN

As the echo of their footsteps faded into silence, Cathy put all her fearful thoughts behind her, knowing that she must not let her imagination get the better of her.

She walked purposefully down the entrance tunnel, extinguishing all the unnecessary candles and wall torches as she returned.

The first thing she must work out was how long a candle would last, so she would know how many she could safely use in each twenty four hour. There were also nine unused wall torches so she lit a fresh one to see how long that would last as well. She noted down the times in a notebook she had in her pocket.

If she was honest, this was really her only fear - being left alone in the dark.

She tried not to think about it and went to check on Vincent, who was still sound asleep. "Maybe it isn't going to be bad after all--maybe, he'll sleep himself better ..."

While she had this quiet time to herself, Cathy had something to eat and drink, cleaned her teeth, had a good all over wash, put clean underwear on and washed out what she had taken off. Then, after checking that Vincent was still sound asleep, she made herself as comfortable as possible, close to him, making sure she knew where her torch was and fell asleep.

She woke up suddenly and knew instinctively, before even opening her eyes, that Vincent was very ill. His blankets were all over the place, his skin was on fire and what clothes he had on were wet with sweat.

He was delirious and rambling incoherently, but at least he was not growling and snarling.

Inhibitions were a thing of the past, but it was with some difficulty that Catherine managed to get him dry and comfortable. His delirious ramblings seemed to go on for hours. All Catherine could do was stay close, talk to him, try and keep him calm, cool and get some fluids into him.

Eventually, Vincent's high temperature gave way to uncontrollable shivering and Catherine piled everything on top of him, including herself, knowing there was nothing else she could do and hoping it was enough.

Hours later Vincent awoke, feeling unbelievably weak and aching in every limb but at least his head was clear. He felt the warmth of Catherine, who had crept in beside him under the blankets and her head was somewhere down the side of his face.

He was ravenous and desperate for both a drink and a visit to the bathroom. He made a move, nuzzling the top of Catherine's head, or whichever bit he could reach and she stirred.

"Vincent?" she mumbled sleepily. "Are you all right?"

"Better - I think - but if I don't go somewhere soon, I'll have an accident," and he rolled out from under the blankets, only to find, to his embarrassment that he had nothing on his bottom half.

Catherine suppressed what would have been an unforgivable urge to giggle and told him, in absolute seriousness that he had been very ill for the past thirty-six hours.

"And you have taken care of me?"

"Of course." Wrapping a blanket around him, she helped him to his feet. "Come on, my love, I'll help you to the ... er ... 'convenience'.

His ravenous appetite deserted him and Vincent only ate a small amount of everything but drank plenty and then asked Catherine to help him get properly dressed. Amongst the folds of his cloak, Catherine found the soft, leather pouch with her rose inside. Somehow it gave them both a familiar feeling of comfort as she hung it around his neck.

He asked surprisingly few questions and Catherine sensed that he was afraid to discuss, or probably even think about what had happened to him, and so she did not elaborate on any of his suffering.

However he certainly seemed happier and a little more relaxed with all his clothes on and, after sitting quietly for some time he spoke. "Catherine, I do not want to alarm you but I feel that the worst is not yet over. I feel that there is something monstrous within me, clamouring to get out. It terrifies me, Catherine."

"Yes, my Vincent," and she took hold of his hand in both of her. "I can feel your fear." This was no platitude because Catherine had been much more aware of their shared bond since she had heard Vincent cry out her name, in the middle of the night, bringing her to the God-forsaken place. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her, closer still.

"Vincent, just promise me that whatever happens, whatever comes, you'll share it with me."

He tilted her face up to his and gently kissed her lips. "Catherine, whatever happens, whatever comes, know that I love you."

They sat quietly holding each other close, touching, kissing, and savoring this quiet interlude.

The quiet before the storm!

Catherine felt the change in him. Felt him draw spiritually away from her.

After a while, Vincent drew physically away from her, holding her at arm’s length.

Catherine knew that the time had come and that Vincent had come to a decision. "Catherine, I am going to go back down, into the sunken gallery - I will be safe down there."

"No, Vincent!" she pleaded, but knowing in her heart that he was right.

"Catherine, it is not only my fear of hurting you - or maybe even killing you, without knowing - it is also to prevent me from raging through the tunnels, possibly getting lost, or worse still, finding my way home and terrorizing the people I love - and who love me."

Catherine nodded her head dejectedly, tears streaming down her face, knowing what he had said was all true and unable to stop herself sobbing. "I know you are right, my love - but just know that I'm here and I'm with you and we'll go through this together."

Vincent pushed himself to his feet and reached down for her hand to pull her up after him.

They clung together. She could feel Vincent's whole body trembling--battling with his inner struggle with the pain.

"Come," he beckoned. "I want to see if you can handle the ladder on your own."

She went forward and pulled the ladder up, rung by rung, to about the half-way mark, then swung it around and laid it on the floor in front of her.

"Good," Vincent said, "Now, put it back into place."

She did the same thing again, in reverse.

He did not touch her. He had reached the point where he did not dare to and some instinct told Catherine that this was how it must be. Never taking his eyes from her face, he walked over and stepped onto the ladder, moving down until his face was level with hers.

"Catherine, I do not know how long this will take but whatever happens, whatever you see - or hear - no matter what, even if I beg you to, you must not come down to me until it is over."

His voice was clipped and stinted, with the effort of retaining his control.  Catherine gazed into his blue eyes, so filled with pain.

"How will I know, Vincent?"

"You will know - and I pray God leaves us with our sanity."

As soon as Catherine had removed the ladder, Vincent relaxed his iron control and the most horrendous pains hit his body, as if every part of him had been put into a vice and squeezed tight, then tighter still. His anguished cries reverberated around the cavern walls and continued, hour after hour - until finally, he was reduced to a gibbering wreck on the floor of the gallery.

Catherine's nerves were shot to pieces. She had shouted and screamed and cried herself out in her anger and hatred of the injustice of it all - that anyone could subject her Vincent to this unimaginable torture.

They had all suffered at the hands of Paracelsus - and the death and destruction he had caused went back a long way.

How can one man be so evil; cause so much pain? she asked herself and had screamed out her hatred of him, many times over the past hours.

She heard Vincent's gibbering ramblings below her turn suddenly into snarling, hissing and then a deafening roaring, as he began to hallucinate, bringing him back to the full strength and power of the beast within him - seeing Paracelsus rise up from under the tarpaulin, together with all the corrupt, violent and evil men he had killed, to protect those he loved. Then, in his hallucinating, tortured mind the gallery became alive with creepy things and slithery things and, all manner of monstrous abominations that were all trying to eat him alive. He screamed and roared in an uncontrollable terror that never ended and went on, and on, and on.

Catherine was hysterical - it was beyond anything she could have ever conceived and she fled to the secluded corner of the cavern and hid under a deep pile of blankets to try and muffle the blood-curdling sounds that were coming from the man she loved. The sounds went on and on, without end, until they became a blur and in this blur of sound, Catherine fell into a tortured, exhausted sleep.

***

FIFTEEN

Father was in his study when he heard the message come through on the pipes and Mary came rushing in, excitedly shouting.

"They're here, They're coming back!"

He followed her out, his own excitement building, hoping that they were all safe and unharmed.

Everyone, including the children, were converging into the tunnels to welcome Vincent home.

Father and Mary walked ahead of them all, to meet the tired rescuers and Vincent with his Catherine. As they came into view, Mouse and Jamie rushed towards Father with some confused explanation that neither he nor Mary could make heads or tails of and, holding his walking stick in one hand, he hugged the two of them, relieved to see them home. Looking up, he could now see what they were trying to tell him and panic seized him as he rushed forward as fast as his bad hip would allow.

"Where's Vincent and Catherine?" he demanded, his voice unusually shrill with fear.

Kanin, at the front of Elliot's stretcher said, "It's all right, Father, they are both alive."

Father relaxed slightly. "But where are they? Are they hurt?"

Elliot propped himself up on one elbow. "Paracelsus gave Vincent a massive dose of some kind of drug. Catherine said you would not be able to handle him here - so she has stayed behind to take care of him. She said you would understand and know that she is safe. Will Cathy be safe?"

Father came to the side of the stretcher, sensing the fear of Cathy's safety in this man.

“You must be Elliot?"

"Yes."

"Elliot, I am so glad you are safe - we were all worried about you." Father looked around them all. "It is a relief to see you all, back in one piece."

He reached out his hand to Elliot. "My name is Jacob, but most people call me Father. I'm Vincent's father, Elliot." They shook hands.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, but will Cathy be safe with Vincent, the way he is?" Elliot asked again.

"Cathy will be safe. Whatever Vincent is suffering himself, he will not hurt Catherine - I can promise you that. Now, are you in need of hospital treatment?"

Cleon stepped forward and he and Father shook hands. "Elliot has a deep knife wound in his thigh - it will need stitching."

"Right, bring him along to the hospital chamber and I'll get that done." Father looked up at Benny who was holding the other end of Elliot's stretcher.

Elliot introduced him. "Jacob, I would like you to meet Benny. Without his help, neither Vincent nor I would have survived at all. He helped to kill Paracelsus. Vincent finished him off and I got my leg caught in the crossfire."

Father stared at Benny. "Aren't you one of Paracelsus' men?"

"Yes - but he's dead."

"So you know about our world?"

"Yes, Paracelsus wanted it - he wanted to kill Vincent, and you .... and come back home. That's what he said. He said that all this, was really his."

"And what do you say, Benny?"

"He did terrible things - cruel, never cared. I was always afraid of him; didn't like the things he made me do. He didn't know Elliot and Vincent were friends, it made him very angry ... but I liked how they cared about each other ... I didn't want them to die ... I like people who are kind."

Father warmed to this giant of a man, who had worked out for himself that Paracelsus was evil. "Benny, why did you stay with him?" Father asked, already realizing that Benny's mentality was very similar to Mouse's.

"Because I was afraid and had nowhere else to go."

"Well Benny, you have a home here with us if you would like that."

Benny's face lit up. "Thank you, I would like that," and he grinned with happiness.

"Right - welcome Benny - Mouse, Jamie, find him somewhere to sleep and settle him in. We'll sort it out with the council tomorrow. Elliot! We must believe that Vincent and Catherine will come through this, so ... let's go and get you stitched and cleaned up. Then I want to see you all in the dining chamber in ... half an hour. I want to know everything that has happened."

***

SIXTEEN

Catherine awoke to a silence so total, she thought she had gone deaf. It was almost as terrifying as the torturous noise she had fallen asleep to. She stuck her head out of the pile of blankets she was curled up under, to find that the cavern was almost blacked out, except for one solitary wall torch that was still burning - thank goodness. How long has she slept?

"Vincent?" she said aloud, clambering out of the blankets. Finding she still had her boots on, she reached for her torch stored safely on a ledge at the side of the bed.

On her way to the gallery, she picked up one of the large flashlights so that she could investigate Vincent before she did anything else.

Her heart was beating fast and loud inside her head, with fearful anticipation and it took her quite a while to locate him.

He was sitting, curled up, in the farthest corner, as small as he could make himself, his knees drawn up under his chin, with his head resting on his folded arms and against the wall.

She felt that he was peaceful, but decided to light the cavern up before she went down to him, first collecting a few things together in her rucksack.

She descended the ladder, carrying a candle holder that held five candles in a circle and it gave out quite a good light. She felt that a flashlight would be too keen for his eyes. Judging by the smell as she crossed the gallery to Vincent's corner, he had been violently sick, but she refused to dwell on anything more than just getting him out of there.

She knelt in front of him, her fingers ruffling the front of his hair.

"Vincent? It's over."

He moved unperceptively. She wanted to touch him; hold him, but he was curled up so tightly there was nothing she could get to. She stood up in front of him again, parted his hair at the back of his neck and began massaging his neck and shoulders, going down under his vest an onto the downy hair that covered his back.

Within a few minutes she could feel all the knotted up tension begin to leave him and his head came up and rested on her body, below her breasts.

Still she continued massaging, stroking, smoothing, down his back and across his shoulders, anywhere she could reach. Gradually his arms untangled and went around her body and she held him to her.  "I'm here, I'm here. It's all over, my love, it's all over."

"I am sorry - so sorry." His voice was distraught. "I thought ... you would not ... want to come to me ... after ..."

And she took hold of his head with handful of his hair, pulling him away from her, so she could look into his face - seeing how haggard he looked, how haunted and fearful his eyes were, dark circles below them.

She kissed his face.

"Vincent, my love, nothing in this world would keep me away from you."

Neither of them had anything left inside them - not tears, or emotion, only this one need to be together, a need that transcended everything else. She turned slightly and bent down to rummage in her rucksack, bringing out a small carton of pure orange juice she had kept for emergencies. She broke the seal and with the small straw and crouched down again in front of him.

"Here, Vincent, drink this - I'll bet your mouth tastes like something abominable," and she smiled wanly into his face. With a look of amazement, he took the small straw between his teeth and drew up the contents - it was like nectar from the gods!

"Now, Vincent, do you think if I helped you, we could get out of this place - can you stand up?"

"I will try." But he seemed very reluctant to move. Catherine realized he was embarrassed because of the state that he and his clothes were in.

She thought a more business-like approach might get him over this hurdle.

"Vincent, listen to me," her voice was soothing, but positive. "There is only one thing that is important right now, and that is getting you up that ladder. Nothing else matters. Nothing, Vincent," she repeated, emphasizing the point. "Your clothes are beyond saving so I'm going to help you get out of them and we'll dump them down here. I've brought two blankets down with me to wrap around you."

He sat there, unmoving. "Catherine, you should not have to see me like this."

"So ... I'm only supposed to see you, love you, when you're looking beautiful and smelling good enough to eat? Come on, Vincent - I want to get you up that ladder - and I need your help!"

She had not raised her voice, but he was left in no doubt that she would not allow him to just sit there.

He took her offered hand and using the rough rock wall as a support, he rose shakily to his feet, his head bent, hiding his shame.

A few minutes later he had a blanket wrapped around his waist and the other fastened around his shoulders with a safety pin found in her rucksack.

The only things that were salvaged were his boots, his broad leather belt and Catherine's rose, which had remained around his neck throughout. Even his cloak had been torn to shreds during his drug-induced frenzy.

She hoisted her rucksack over her shoulder, picked up the candles and guided him over to the ladder.

In his weak and shaking condition, it seemed like Mount Everest, as he gazed up the ladder into the flickering light of the cavern.

"Will you go first, Catherine?" he asked her - and up she went. Vincent's ascent up the ladder was slow and it drained him completely.

He collapsed on the floor at the top, trembling with exhaustion and unable to go any further. "I am sorry, Catherine, I cannot move."

"It's all right, Vincent, don't worry," and she folded her rucksack up and put it under his head. "You're cold, I'll go and get some more blankets, until you are able to move again."

Vincent did not even have the energy to thank her.

Catherine fled, trying desperately to hang onto her fear - not fear of Vincent, but fear of trying to nurse him in these primitive conditions - conditions she was unused to. Suddenly she stopped, mid-stride.

Catherine Chandler, you are being ridiculous! she chided herself. You have water, food, light - and Vincent. What more could you possibly need? You also have brains, so improvise!

Feeling much better for her telling herself off, she went back to Vincent with blankets and the pillow, to make him more comfortable until he regained some of his strength. Catherine had lost all sense of time since she had been alone and even though she had the day and date on her watch, it took her a while to figure out that Elliot, Kanin and the others had left four days ago.

Hmmmm, she thought. Knowing Vincent's powers of recovery, in three days he could be a whole lot better!

***

SEVENTEEN

Vincent's condition was extremely serious and it was obvious to Catherine that his recovery was going to take much longer than three days.

He alternated between high feverishness and uncontrollable shivering. He had become unbelievably weak and ached in every limb - which was not surprising.

He was, however, quite coherent, at least, most of the time, though he desperately needed sleep but every time he closed his eyes and drifted away, the nightmares would begin; some of them so violent and terrifying, Catherine had difficulty rousing him from them - and she was desperate for sleep herself.

Vincent was worried about hurting her whilst in the throes of one of his nightmares and he voiced his fears to her.

Catherine glared at him. "Vincent, don't you even think about it! You are not going back down into that gallery - and that is final!" She picked up one of his hands and examined the claws. "Would your claws file flat, or would that cause you pain?"

"No - the nerve is quite low down. I could really keep them permanently short, but they have always been more use than a hindrance as they are -and under normal circumstances, are no danger."

Catherine looked lovingly into his eyes. "I know that," she said, kissing him.

"Have you got a file, Catherine?"

"Yes."

"Then please, file the points down. It would ease my mind considerably." As Catherine sat there beside him, filing away at his claws, Vincent was lulled into an untroubled sleep. Catherine noticed that the moment she stopped, he would begin to get restless and as soon as she started again, he would settle. Discovering that so long as she was doing something to him, he slept peacefully, she continued - brushing his hair, bathing a few angry looking wounds with antiseptic and she smiled to herself as a wicked little thought entered her mind.

No, Catherine - better not, not in his weak condition!

After several hours, she was exhausted and fell asleep on her knees, sprawled across his chest. It was over an hour later, Vincent awoke, finding her asleep across him and looking most uncomfortable. He felt a little better for his few hours’ peaceful sleep and, turning onto his side, he shuffled Catherine down beside him and covered her over.

It was a distant sound that woke them both. Catherine looked at her watch - they had slept for almost seven hours, without any nightmares. She turned to face him, kissing his chin. "We have both slept well, Vincent." She then nuzzled his face.

"Yes, I feel much better. Thank you, Catherine."

"That sound we heard, could well mean we have company coming. I'd better go and get the place lit up before they arrive," and she crawled out of bed to find she still had her boots on, again. "Would you like me to help you to the 'whatsit' first, Vincent?"

"That would be a relief, Catherine."

Hmmmm, she thought, Vincent was getting his humor back. Although Vincent was much improved for his rest, he was still extremely weak and unsafe on his legs and, she left him in the 'whatsit' whilst she went and lit candles and wall torches in the cavern.

Fifteen minutes later, they had washed, eaten and were having a hot drink when they sounds of approaching footsteps were clearly heard though still some distance away.

Vincent was sitting on the bed, with his back to the wall and blankets over his bottom half. They had found a vest and shirt for him to wear, but that was all.

Catherine knelt at his side, facing him, gazing at him in wonder, love and awe. "You've survived, my love. Two more days at the most and we'll be home."

"We have survived, Catherine," Vincent corrected. They held each other close for a moment, then Vincent pulled away but kept her close.

"I came here alone, Catherine - I was sure I was equal to the task. But I would have died here and so would Elliot - had it not been for our bond. I cried out your name and you found me, through all these miles underground ... and you came."

"I heard you again, on the way here," Catherine told him and Vincent looked at her in amazement. "Vincent, I feel that my half of our connection has grown stronger."

"Of that, there can be no doubt." They hugged each other, overcome by the magnitude of what they shared.

"I'll go and meet the family."

Vincent smiled. He would soon be home.

***

EIGHTEEN

Catherine hugged Mouse and Jamie, laughing and crying with relief.

"Is Vincent all right, is he better?" Mouse asked, looking all agitated and worried.

"Why don't you both go and see," Catherine encouraged. "Go on, he's fine."

Now they were here, Catherine did not seem to be able to stop crying and laughing and wanting to hug them all. There was Cleon, Kanin, Benny and Kanin and she was so happy to see them.

Cleon asked what they all wanted to know. "Was it as bad as we thought it would be, Cathy?"

She shook her head.

"No - it was more like a thousand times worse than anything I could have imagined. No other man could have lived through it all!"

They all saw the haunted look and intense pain cross her face.

"He went back down into the gallery, alone. He was down there for almost three days - and I don't want it discussed or mentioned from here on in. It's over, we've survived it. We just want to go home."

They all nodded, understanding. Even Benny understood.

"Come on," she smiled. "Vincent's waiting."

Vincent had Jamie and Mouse sitting at either side of him, all hands clasped. Vincent was their family. The first few minutes were a bit chaotic as greetings were happily exchanged and emotion manfully controlled by most of them. Benny was proudly introduced and his heroic part, that surely must have saved them all, was relayed to Vincent - much to Benny's embarrassment. Vincent nodded, shaking his head.

"I am pleased that some good has come out of all this, Benny. I hope Father has made you welcome in our world?"

Benny nodded, still somewhat at odds with all the emotion but he managed to tell Vincent. "It's the first time I can remember, having a home."

Everyone discarded their backpacks and produced a few surprises. A complete change of clothes for them both, right down to socks and underwear; some scented soap and a couple of proper towels, so they could endeavour to make themselves smell somewhat sweeter, made Catherine laugh.

“Is this a hint or something?"

Elliot's contribution to their rescue, even though he could not come himself, was a cool box stuffed with goodies. There was a container full of William's thick soup and crispy rolls, a whole cooked chicken, various salads and fresh fruit, and a tub of ice cream that was amazingly still solid. Rolled in a cloth was a bottle of wine with plastic cups.

Stuck to the top of the soup container was a note.

'To Vincent and Catherine,

Just come back safely home,

There is plenty more,

Where this came from

William'

***

NINETEEN

It was a long, slow journey home with Vincent on a stretcher. They had left most of the equipment and provisions behind (they could be picked up some time later) and travelled back as light as possible, taking many rests along the way.

Vincent was told all of what had happened to Elliot and how he had insisted on being with him, down in the gallery, so he would not wake up, cold and alone. Vincent remembered seeing Elliot, in chains, afraid, yet showing him nothing but compassion. Vincent knew with confident certainty, that Elliot was no longer a rival, but a friend.

Catherine, when conditions would allow, walked beside Vincent, her hand tucked into his. She was not allowed to carry anything, but even so, just past the half way mark, Vincent sensed that she was in difficulty and called for an unscheduled stop.

Catherine was near to collapse and did not have the energy to argue, as she was fastened onto the second stretcher. Cleon had anticipated that this might happen after her ordeal.

It was obvious, as they drew nearer to home, that they were not going to be able to creep in unannounced and they all smiled at each other as they heard the first message going out on the pipes - someone had spotted them.

On this wider sections of the tunnels, Vincent and Catherine were carried side by side, so that they could hold hands and be close and, on this occasion, Vincent leaned up on one elbow and asked her.

"Catherine, I would like to meet Father on my feet. Will you walk with me?"

"I would be delighted, Vincent."

Their whole entourage stopped as they heard many feet approaching and voices chattering.

Vincent and Catherine were helped to their feet and stood, hand in hand, shaking and unsteady, but grinning at each other and flanked by their four gallant stretcher bearers, who were ready to steady them, should they falter. Mouse and Jamie stood there, beaming as well.

They were both a good deal thinner and still had a gaunt, haunted look about them from their ordeal, but they were alive, they were together and they were ... home.

The whole community seemed to suddenly burst into view, with Father in the lead, followed by Mary, Peter, Pascal, William and Elliot - surrounded by most of the children.

The sight of Catherine and Vincent standing there - that they has suffered was clearly evident and everyone went silent as Father limped forward, to envelope his adored son and daughter(for that is how he thought of her) into his arms. The tears and kisses flowed freely as the sheet weight of their emotion, forced them to their knees.

Father was helped to his feet, not really wanting to let them go, but knowing everyone else wanted to welcome them too - including the children, as a small pair of arms clutched around Vincent's neck, telling him.

"You won't go away again, will you, Vincent?"

Gradually they were lifted to their feet. Handkerchiefs were produced and the mood lightened, as laughter and relief burst through the tears.

Elliot had stayed back, not wanting to intrude on this personal family reunion. He understood now, more than ever, how special Vincent was, to so many people and seeing how the children loved him brought a lump to his throat. He felt honored to be a part of it all

It was Vincent who sought him out and a hush fell over the gathering as Vincent and Catherine slowly made their way over to him.

Neither Vincent nor Elliot could find words to fit this occasion but both knew that they had forged a bond--a special friendship and their greeting went from warm handshake to a brotherly hug.

Reclaiming hold of each other’s arms, Vincent asked him. "How is the leg, Elliot?"

"I've still got it, Vincent," and his face dimpled into a huge grin.

He turned his gaze at Catherine. "And you, Cathy, are something else again. God, I was so worried about leaving you alone," and he crushed her to him as she held him tight. Finally they pulled apart. "Tell me something, Cathy. How does a slip of a girl like you find the courage and the guts to do what you did?"

She turned her head and smiled up into Vincent's eyes - eyes so blue - that knew exactly what she was about to answer.

She took Vincent's hand in hers and brought it up to her lips and then looked back at Elliot. "I will tell you why I could do what I did - and it was nothing to do with guts, or courage - but because I love him ... and all that he is."

END