From the moment that they had decided and known that the police had to be present, Father put forth every obstacle not to have his son involved. But when he realised that Vincent was adamant about going he reasoned on all the possible ways that Vincent could make the trip with them to the cabin without ANYONE seeing him, least of all the psychopath.

Finally, Charles decided to use a truck with a false bottom, a very uncomfortable way for Vincent to travel but necessary nonetheless and as they drove over the very many bumps leading up to the cabin door, Charles winced with every one knowing how it must feel to Vincent some twelve inches closer to the ground than they were. Lying flat, and entombed in a purpose built box not unlike that of a coffin and built by Cullen, Vincent allowed Catherine’s senses to filter through to him concentrating on every little emotion lest his other fear of being discovered in the world above overwhelm him entirely.

They’d been travelling for hours. Making a slow circularly trip to the cabin, choosing roads that were quiet in order for the surveillance team to watch every inch of their journey. And from their positions behind bushes or beneath crags, they saw nothing suspicious and certainly never any particular vehicle of any particular model following either at close quarters or at some distance behind.

Another team had spent the best part of the previous week surrounding the cabin, searching for clues of recent occupation or tracks that would signify that someone waited for the Chandler’s to arrive. There had been nothing and it was concluded that the psychopath was very cunning indeed to outwit them at every turn.

Other cabins had been investigated, most of them were empty, others evacuated for the safety of its members, and for a complete half mile radius of the Chandler cabin cameras had been installed, camps had been set up with guard dogs and personnel trained for combat.

A tracker had been employed, his help invaluable in similar cases, remarkable how he could tell from the merest snapping of a twig how long it had been since someone had passed a certain way and in which direction they had gone.

All in all every avenue had been negotiated yet even so no one could admit to feeling secure about the whole event. This guy was too clever and had outsmarted them far too often. The recent discovery of other bodies buried around the area where Charles had discovered the first had attested to that fact.

Charles and Catherine were well aware of all the activity taking place for their benefit but could not pretend that it was more important than getting Vincent out of the truck and into the cabin and hidden away for however long it took to resolve the matter. They had promised Father that they would return him safe and well and just as importantly undiscovered. It was bad enough that the psychopath knew something of him already. Something secretive. Thank goodness he didn’t know what.

They finally made the last turn and found the cabin within sight. Vincent, unable to see anything sensed the rising panic that filled Catherine’s heart and he instilled comfort into her hoping that he could calm her nerves. It seemed to work as slowly her heartbeat returned to as near normal as possible and Vincent relaxed allowing sounds to filter through and highlight their arrival at the cabin door.

There appeared to be no one about. Charles switched off the engine and snapped down the door locks looking all around him before contemplating leaving the vehicle. He did not forget that the psycho said he might well use a gun, but he didn’t suppose for more than one moment that he would use it on Catherine. She, he knew, would suffer, because that’s what this psycho liked doing best of all. It was discovered that the receptionist at Peter’s surgery had still been alive when he had started to slice off her limbs and a heart attack had actually caused her death. A merciful heart attack possibly killing her after the first limb, her right arm had been removed at the shoulder as she had mounted the stairs leading up to Peter’s surgery. It was sickening that the axe intended for use in a fire and only installed days earlier at the receptionist’s suggestion had been used to kill her.

Charles didn’t want to remember reading that report, didn’t want to know about the stairs found covered in blood from the severed arm left upon them and he didn’t want to remember the body he had found some five months earlier at the glen. And he didn’t want to imagine any of it being applied to his lovely daughter but he found it impossible to prevent the images filling his head. He felt sick, wanted to vomit just as he had that day he had found the body, and his hands shook as he fumbled with the steering wheel wondering if they were in fact doing the right thing even now.

“What is it Dad? Have you seen something?” Catherine looked about anxiously. It was broad daylight and dappled sunlight was streaming through the trees just the way that she loved to see it.

“No honey, nothing literal just remembering.”

Catherine understood all too well, “Oh. Do you want to go back? We don’t have to do this, dad.”

“I know we don’t, and if there was some other way…” he left the sentence unfinished but Catherine knew, they had explored a thousand avenues ever since this one presented itself. Mad as it was, Vincent was their only trump card even though it frightened her to know that he might have to kill someone for the first time in his life just to save her. A feeling of love and sympathy stole over her at this thought. Since that day in his chamber they had never again ventured on anything intimate but suddenly the need to have him so overwhelmingly close enveloped Catherine, and she wondered how he must feel about it, accepting that he could feel her emotions through what he termed as a Bond between them. Knowing that she could clamp down on her feelings and thus shut them off from him Catherine suddenly felt very devious knowing that she could if she wished manipulate actions between them by feeding him her desires so that he could in no way ignore them. Now was not the time however, she’d save that until they were by themselves.

“Are we going to go inside, dad? You know who must be suffocating in there.”

“Yes of course. And I hope that no one questions us taking a new table into the cabin.” Charles remarked nervously as he thought of the box that housed Vincent spread with a large checked tablecloth and complete with fold away legs was meant, for all intents and purposes, to look like a table as they carried it from the truck into the cabin.

“They haven’t set up cameras in the cabin have they Dad?”

“No, I specifically asked them not to. That would invade on our privacy, however I do believe that the cabin is bugged. We shall have to mind our P’s and Q’s not to mention our V’s.”

Catherine giggled, and for the first time since they had started out on the trip, Charles smiled then told her seriously, “He’s a good trump card Cathy, but we need to protect him too.”

“You don’t have to tell me that dad. He’s the only one there is.”

Charles lowered his voice hoping Vincent couldn’t hear what he wanted to say, “You think a lot of him don’t you?” His eyes were sincere, questioning.

“Its that obvious?” Blushing a little Catherine looked away. And her father grew silent. He knew that his daughter liked Vincent, but her reaction had surprised him. Obviously, she ‘liked’ him more than he had presumed.

“I wonder what your mother would have thought of him?” Charles mused out loud.

“She’d have loved him. Daddy, I have a feeling she would have thought of him as my prince.”

“What a romantic you are!” Charles laughed out loud, “Just like your mother!”

“What about you dad?” Catherine whispered, “What do you think of him?”

“That’s debateable. As your friend he’s perfect.” He stopped speaking wondering how much more she wanted to know. He soon found out.

“And as anything more?”

Eyebrows raised Charles shook his head and told her, “I don’t know honey…he’s different… he’s a real gentleman…but I don’t have to tell you that your whole life would change to be with him.”

“I know that, dad. I’ve accepted that. Do you think you could too?”

“Aha the sixty four thousand dollar question huh? The fact is, can he? Talking of which we had better get him out of there or this topic will be unnecessary.” He smiled patting her hand and adding, “let me think about it okay honey. I’m certainly not against the idea, just need to get my head around it that’s all.”

Catherine squeezed her father’s hand, “Thank you, dad.” Right at that moment Charles could deny her nothing, even life with the strangest man he had ever clapped eyes on, if that was what she wanted. It was a long time since he had seen her smile so brilliantly and here of all places too. And Charles Chandler thanked the gods that had brought Vincent into existence for he didn’t think he had ever seen his daughter look so happy or so content but a relationship between them? How out of the question was that? He supposed it depended upon the fact that every parent faced when presented with a possible spouse for their child. Could he accept grandchildren between the two of them and in this case possibly furry ones? And then Charles laughed amazed that the thought didn’t seem half as bad as it ought to do.

Nothing untoward happened. Left alone yet under surveillance Catherine and Charles carried the heavy ‘table’ from the truck to the cabin and installed it, of all places into the bedroom that Charles had shared with his wife. It was the best place to put it. Heavy double shutters crossed over the windows, and there was enough room for one person to stay put in there to eat sleep and ‘play’ Charles thought wryly. It was also a good bolthole for anyone having to hide from the doorway, and as no one was likely to have need to enter there it was the safest place for Vincent to be.

Sweeping the tablecloth onto the floor, Catherine slid off the lid that secured Vincent from prying eyes. He gasped for air as soon as his face was revealed and Catherine laughed knowing that he had done it to humour her. “At last!” He whispered, “I thought you had forgotten me!”

“As if.” Catherine replied searching his eyes. They were intense and blue and she wanted to drown in them. Her reply and meaning was not lost on Charles or Vincent and both were unable to speak for several minutes. Finally, Charles announced that he would unpack the truck and needed them both to watch from the windows via the shutters and keep him covered. Anything might happen now, but Catherine had other ideas.

“He might shoot you Dad. I doubt he wants to do that to me, and we have left the truck right outside the door. Let me go. There is only one bag.”

Doubtful yet knowing the sense of it, Charles and Vincent let her go, though watching her step outside was nerve wracking especially as she seemed to take a god awful long time about it.

“What kept you?” Charles snapped when she came back into the cabin. He hadn’t meant to snap but his nerves were as tight as a bow.

“The strap on the bag was caught around the handbrake and when I pulled at it the truck started to roll backwards, didn’t you notice?” Catherine snapped back.

“I’m sorry honey, yes I did notice, couldn’t understand what you were doing. Forgive me and at least you are back safe.”

“I was only two feet away daddy.” Still Catherine knew that was no consolation at all. Charles just felt bad that he had agreed to let Catherine go out there at all.

“I’ll make us some coffee. Tea for you Vincent?” Slapping a hand against his mouth Charles knew he was guilty of mentioning a third person among them, but Catherine was quick to respond with, “Will you quit calling me Vincent! Do I look like a man?”

Charles and Vincent grinned and Charles shook his head, “Sorry honey, what alias would you prefer me to use then?”

“Anything female, how about Vicky?”

“Vicky it is then.” Charles hoped that the surveillance team would accept the ruse. And listening in they did, however they found it unfathomable as to why Charles should wish to change his daughter’s name when it was only for their benefit.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise but it was when half a week later a loud knock at the cabin door and the announcement that the caller was a name they recognised among the surveillance team, had the so called ‘Vicky’ bolting for the back bedroom and Charles answering the door.

“Hello, how’s it going?” Charles asked taking in the other fellow’s sullen face and adding, “What’s the matter? What’s happened?” Beside her father, Catherine quaked, the fear in her eyes apparent as they never left the officer’s face.

“There’s been another murder.” He told them gravely.

“Another? But where? Is it our man?” Charles wanted to know.

“Oh very much so. It was in the city. Seems he is annoyed with our being here surrounding you. He left a message with the victim’s blood similar as before, one death in the city for every police officer he finds surrounding your cabin. We can’t risk the chance that he’s bluffing Sir, this guy is a nut case. We have to withdraw our protection, though not entirely. We’ll stay within three miles radius, see if he can put up with that.”

“Three miles! Is that really necessary, why can’t you make it two or even one?” Charles demanded to know.

“Simply put? Between half a mile from here and three miles away it’s all lakes and clearing. We can see everything with long range binoculars and we still have the cameras in place. If he allows this then something is bound to occur, but we need to lend you some protection. I suggest that you have a couple of our men live at the cabin with you.”

“No!” Both Charles and Catherine shouted together, surprising the officer no end. “I mean,” Charles went on hoping to pacify him, “that would do no good, he’d be expecting that. I have my gun with me, if I could be permitted to use that, surely it would suffice?”

“You don’t need me to tell you the law is a strange thing Sir. Shooting a man in self-defence is one thing, killing him quite another. Your daughter would quite naturally be a biased witness. Any shooting that’s done, I don’t have to tell you, could end up with you facing charges of manslaughter.”

“It’s a risk I’m prepared to take. My daughter’s life for his? There’s no question. Wouldn’t you do the same if you had a child involved like this?”

The officer nodded, “I would want to do, but it doesn’t help the police any. We need this guy alive, he has a lot of questions to answer. A lot of people have gone missing over the past few years in these areas, and we believe he can help us with our enquiries.”

“But you understand my predicament.” Charles suddenly cared for his own and no one else. “My loyalty is with the living.”

“I understand, at least this conversation is being recorded and that alone can be used at your defence, however so will the fact that the risks were highlighted and you chose to ignore them. But I do understand Sir, it would be difficult to do the right thing when faced with such a merciless killer.”

“So when will you be moving you’re men back?” Catherine asked.

“Now as we speak they are packing up. By tonight you are going to be completely on your own up here. That is we’ll be able to get to you by truck within five minutes, but all the same try to stay inside where we can hear you.”

“And if he should cut the connection? Have you thought of that?”

“We have, don’t worry. Look, keep a lamp burning at all times in this window. The moment it is obstructed or goes out we will come. It’s the best we can do in the circumstances, but know this that we are taking every precaution to keep you both safe.”

“Precaution my ass!” Catherine snorted. Both men looked at her askance knowing she had a point, but it never escaped the fact that this was the only way the psycho would play it. Any other way would mean the life of innocent people back in Manhattan. Anywhere come to that, didn’t have to be in the city, if the guy wanted one death for every officer he saw, he might strike at anyone anywhere and that was a risk they were not prepared to take.

“We’ll look after you, don’t worry.” The officer told them hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt.

Charles and Catherine said nothing more. They did worry, who wouldn’t. Thankfully for all the officer’s promises of protection, they still had one of their own. They still had their trump card sitting listening in the back room. Thank God for who he was and that he could be their stronghold.

A week went by. In that time, nothing untoward happened in or around the cabin and thankfully, no more deaths were reported from the city. Supplies were delivered to the cabin door but neither Charles nor Catherine saw anyone deliver them. That was nerve wracking in itself and highlighted to them just how vulnerable their situation really was.

Vincent, unused to being holed up in a strange place coped remarkably well both Charles and Catherine thought. It was a shame that he could not speak though, conversing only through written notes passed between the three or when Charles remembered to address him as Vicky on the pretence that he was conversing with his daughter. Of course, Catherine could not use such a guise and wished that at the beginning she had thought to give her father a new identity so that she might use it for Vincent. It was a pain having to write everything down. Or it was, in the beginning. At the end of the first week as their nerves began to settle a little Catherine began to realise that passing Vincent little notes might have its advantages.

Young and reasonably innocent Catherine set out to fool around. Remembering the kiss they had shared fed her goal and after watching Vincent and her father share another endless game of chess she decided to slip Vincent a note of her intention before following him into his back room when her father wanted to retire for the night on the couch in the main living room. Here he had spent the past week, and the last few days making sure that their nightlight did not go out in the window.

As Vincent made to close the door, Catherine held a hand against it. Her father was busy with the dishes from supper his back to her, and Catherine hoped that Vincent wouldn’t attempt to make a scene that would arouse her father’s suspicions as to why his daughter suddenly wanted to spend some time in the back room with their guest.

Eyebrows raised, Vincent said nothing just stepped back and allowed Catherine’s entrance, closing the door firmly behind her when he was sure that Charles had seen nothing. Then heart hammering, he turned to Catherine inside his room, knowing her intent exactly.

They gazed at one another a long, long moment, hearts hammering, and though Vincent had reconciled himself to the fact that what had happened between them before could never happen again, having Catherine in front of him here and now, her eyes filled with hopeful expectation it was altogether too much for his battered nerves to handle. He stepped toward her arms wide, drawing her into a close embrace and lowered his lips to hers. That initial touch of her warm and moist lips beneath his sparked the flame that threatened to consume him and he knew in that instant that he ought not have allowed her even into the room.

Catherine melted within his arms, eyes closed she savoured the touch of his lips on hers. All her dreams crashed around her like waves hitting the rocks of a shore. With emotions and desire filling her and her head spinning she sunk herself into the glorious kiss and the touch of his unique mouth against hers.

They dared not speak, not even the slightest of whispers yet neither could prevent a soft moan of satisfaction escape their lips as Catherine cleaved her body to his and felt his hot and hardened flesh tight against the soft contours of her belly.

Surprised that she could, yet without a second thought, Catherine’s hand slid down between them finding and caressing the engorged flesh and shuddering as she felt it surge and grow beneath the touch of her questing fingers. In response, Vincent deepened his kiss, his tongue forcing her lips apart, tasting the honeyed jewel inside her mouth and sucking upon her tongue, his heart racing, his head reeling. Nothing, nothing could compare with this. He wanted never to stop, wanted her, all of her, needed her like a dying man deprived of air desperately needed to find a way of staying alive.

His hands held her tight against him, his lips never leaving her mouth slaking his thirst with her and taking within his own the whimpers and moans that expelled from her lips. When he felt her take up one of his hands it never registered until he felt beneath his palm the cool and silky touch of soft skin and opening one eye was stunned to see that she had placed it upon her breast. Thrust down between her blouse and her bra his lethal claws surrounded one rosy nipple, now hardened by desire.

At that sight, he tried to snatch back his hand, and broke the kiss but Catherine held him tightly against her anticipating this move, mouthing, ‘No, stay’ against his lips.

His eyes riveted to the beauty beneath his hand Vincent could only stand and stare not knowing what to do, not daring to touch yet afraid to pull his hand away lest his claws cut her.

Understanding his predicament, Catherine took up his thumb and with it passed it to and fro over the rosy nipple moaning at the electrified touch of his roughed hand against her soft yet rigid flesh sent flames of desire deep into the pit of her belly. Despite all his caution Vincent moaned loudly, watching mesmerised as the aurora around her nipple puckered and the rosy bud hardened further still. Never had he seen anything so beautiful, never had he wanted to taste anything more.

Head bent he lowered his mouth down to the treasure that called to him, taking it into the wet heat of his mouth, sliding the rosy tip into the cleft of his upper lip and pulling upon it as he had dreamed of suckling at a mother’s breast for all of his life. Catherine moaned and wriggled beneath him causing him to tighten his grip with the one arm still surrounding her waist.

“Vincent!” Catherine breathed against his neck, her face buried in his hair to disguise her voice and let only he know of her longing. “I love you.” She whimpered, her hand at his groin holding him tighter, showing him in no uncertain terms what she desired most from him this night.

“I love you too.” The words spoken against her breast surprised and pleased her at once and she hugged him tighter to her before using that self same hand to reveal her other breast to him for the taking.

His eyes took in the sight of the other breast begging for his touch and he did not disappoint her, moving his hot and torrid mouth from the first well loved breast to the next, drinking in her essence knowing that she was everything and more than anything he had ever imagined.

Through the fog that permeated his mind, Vincent felt Catherine’s hand leave his engorged shaft and almost cried at its departure until moments later he felt her tugging at the large ornate and leather belt that he always wore, her intent plain.

For a split second he thought of denying her access, but his own need was too great and instead found himself helping her undo the heavy buckle far enough to allow her hand to slide between denim and skin, down and down until her tiny fingers clasped him in their steely grip.

At that first electrifying touch reason assailed Vincent’s senses, “Catherine! We must stop!” He panted heavily, one more moment and he wouldn’t be able to turn aside from the feelings overwhelming him.

“No.” Catherine in total disagreement, pressed her hand more firmly around him her fingers teasing the tip, sliding the honeyed dew along his turgid length. He was hot and hard and wanting and she would do everything in her power to let that happen.

“We must!” Breathing heavily, Vincent pulled back from her, stunned to see her hand down the waistband of his jeans, stunned further to see the top half of her clothing revealing her creamy rose tipped breasts to his avid gaze. “Its not that I…want to stop…” He husked, “But we can’t do this…here.” He could hardly believe he was saying such things, could hardly believe that this was happening between them.

“It will be alright, “Catherine argued her voice so low only he could hear her, “Dad won’t come in. He thinks I’m in the other room and he never disturbs you!”

“It’s not that.” Vincent’s eyes were pained as his desire cooled with the reasonable thoughts surrounding him. Carefully he attempted to detach her hand with some reluctance.

“Then what!” Catherine’s eyes challenged him her hand gripping tighter as his flesh shrank when reason hit him.

Despite the situation, amazing as it was, beautiful though it had been, Vincent found that he was able to smile and tell her, “I don’t think it would be possible to stay quiet - vocally.” He grinned showing the tips of his fangs and Catherine shuddered suddenly remembering them grazing lightly across her nipples only moments before.

“But we will do it?” She asked him stunned that she could. To put it so blatantly into words like that made it sound sinful. “One day?”

Lost, unable to deny her anything, and knowing that now on the road to such discovery he was powerless to resist reaching the end of such a journey, Vincent nodded, “Yes one day. When we are back home. There is a place I can take you…”his voice faltered as embarrassed he realised how that had sounded, “that is take you to.”

Nodding Catherine released him from her grip, extracting her hand and set about tidying up her own state of undress. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Pleasure coursed through Vincent. Pleasure at the thought of things to come. For everything there was the place and the time, and regretfully now was not appropriate.

“Thank you, Catherine.” Words seemed suddenly useless but he had to make her know that what they had shared had been the most beautiful experience of his whole life thus far. His eyes when they looked at her were filled with love and unable to stop herself Catherine closed the gap between them moulded herself to him and leaned in for another long and passionate kiss. Vincent groaned, and Catherine sensing how she was tormenting him stepped back reluctantly, her eyes filled with amusement and love.

“It was my pleasure Vincent.” She whispered at last, “And I mean pleasure!” She added with a grin as she stepped to the door and placing one ear against it listened for sounds of movement beyond. When she had entered the backroom, she had no thought of leaving so soon, having decided that she would spend the night there. Her father might well be still up reading or listening to the radio.

“He’s asleep.” Vincent made her jump when he spoke into her other ear, teasing the lobe with the tip of his tongue as he did so. “You can make your escape and keep your vanity intact.” He chuckled softly, never losing sight of the fact that monitors transmitted every sound above a certain decibel back to the surveillance crew.

“It’s a pity I have to keep my virginity intact too.” She quipped reaching for the door handle, “Till later then, Vincent.” She made to open the door, surprised when one lean and muscled arm pushed it back and Vincent pulled her up against him. “You’re a virgin?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. There are still some of us left you know?” Catherine blushed.

“Its not that. I just assumed…you seemed so…” he sought for the words that he wanted but Catherine found them instead, “Assertive?”

“Yes. I just thought that…well you know.” Acutely embarrassed his cheeks flamed bright red.

“Well I haven’t…that is not all the way…just fooled around a little…but you…” she hesitated wondering how best to say it, “you are different.” He winced at that and she hurried on quickly to reassure him, “Not in the obvious way, my love. You are different from anyone I have ever known and I want…I want to share myself with you, as I have never wanted to share myself with any other boy, period. God Vincent, I love you so much.” Shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it both of them knew it to be true. Her heart spoke of the intense love she felt for him and Vincent revelled in it.

“Catherine…” his eyes spoke of the love that he felt for her, and though he could say no more Catherine knew how much he loved her too. Besides, he had already told her, though that was while seized by passion. And if there was one thing Catherine did know, no boy should be trusted with words of love when enflamed by passion. They’d say anything to get your knickers off.

A lump formed in Catherine’s throat put there by unshed tears. They knew so little about one another, yet here they were embarking upon an experience that was new to both of them…wait a minute…how could she be sure of that? She should ask him.

Timidly averting her gaze from his Catherine began to ask, “Have you ever…” When suddenly he clamped a hand over her mouth and looking up at his face she was frightened by the look she saw there.

‘What is it?’ her mind screamed unable to voice the words, her ears attuned to whatever it was that Vincent had seemed to hear. Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs as she remembered the predicament they were in here in the cabin and wondered how she could ever have forgotten. Though amazingly she had for in that last glorious hour she had spent with Vincent, she had completely forgotten everything else.

It came back now with rapid ferocity. The psycho, their predicament, the danger surrounding them, and suddenly that fear was heightened by the risk that Vincent would put himself under for her sake. God if she were to lose him!

Terror clutched at her heart and knowing her feelings Vincent kissed her temple, instilling love through their connection desperately trying to calm her racing heart without ever letting go of his uncanny power to sense that something was wrong outside the cabin.

Catherine could not hear what Vincent with his acute sense of hearing could detect, but even to her suddenly it seemed awfully quiet outside. As if everything were waiting with expectation for something disastrous to happen.

Slowly Vincent grasped and turned the door handle putting Catherine behind him in the same movement. He peeped into the living quarters his night vision seeing everything in the dim light of the solitary candle burning by the window.

The room was empty and the outside door was wide open and the only thing left of Charles Chandler was a pool of his blood swept from the couch to the door as his body had been dragged senseless from the cabin – and they had not heard a thing!

Standing staring Vincent pushed Catherine back into the room and whispered that she should scream. Looking at him and not understanding one bit as to why he should suggest such a thing, Catherine pushed past him and yanking open the door cast her eyes around the room beyond. Vincent waited, expecting at any moment to hear the high pitched scream from her that would send the surveillance team running to help, and was surprised when instead of a scream he heard Catherine shout, “Vincent, he’s here!” before she charged back into the room that she had just vacated her eyes wild with fear and terror.