Time, Death & Scar Tissue...

28 Impromptu

Kathryn woke alone the next evening. It was unusual for him to leave her completely alone but then she saw how late it was and the note that he left saying that he had some business to attend to. She dressed and went for a run and then had a leisurely soak and some breakfast before going to look for him.

Kathryn looked in the library first. She noticed that he used that room more than any other, or so it seemed. When she didn't find him there, she went to his office next. The door was closed so she knocked softly before opening it. He smiled but was on the phone. She shut the door again and went into the music room. On their tour she had noticed a piano. It had been too long since she practiced and she didn't really feel like writing at that moment.

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LaCroix had sensed the need to check on the club and he had been right to call. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly a simple situation could become a crisis if not properly managed in the beginning. When he hung up the phone he thought he heard music. When he concentrated he realized that he did and that it wasn't a tune that he recognized. He continued to focus and realized someone was playing the piano. He was angry and he made only minimal attempts to hide it as he crossed the hall. He entered the room quickly, certain that he would find one of the new housemaids playing. He was completely shocked to find that it was Kathryn. She stopped when the door opened so quickly. Her eyes were widened with fear when she saw the remnants of his anger.

“I-I'm sorry.” She got up and backed away from him a bit. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”

“No. You didn't. You just surprised me, I had no idea that you played.” He closed the distance between them and pulled her close. She was hesitant, but slowly she relaxed into him.

“You don't have a piano at the apartment so I guess I never had reason to mention it before.” Her voice was small and even though she pressed close he could tell that he had scared her.

“I'm sorry if I startled you.” He kissed her lightly. “What were you playing?”

“It's called Angel, by Sarah McLachlan.” Her fear was dissipating now. “Did you like it?”

“I didn't hear enough of it to know.” He kissed her softly. “Play for me?”

“I'm out of practice, but alright.” She smiled shyly and he sat down. He had always insisted that those of his children who stayed with him learn an instrument or improve whatever skills they might already have. Meeting physical needs only took so long and the concentration music required aided in control. Besides, it had entertained him in times when entertainment was not available at the touch of a button.

He noticed immediately that Kathryn used no sheet music, but she played beautifully. He was surprised again to hear her sing softly. Her voice grew stronger as she continued and again there was a tug of familiarity. He was certain that he had never heard the song before, though the words resonated with him. There was something in the quality of the voice, but what that was escaped him as easily now as it had all the other times that he tried to pin it down. The one thing he was certain of what that Kathryn could do more than carry a tune, she seduced the listener with her voice. When the song came to an end she shifted into Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. As she got further into the piece he could see her relaxing, enjoying the music herself. When the final notes of the piece died away, she looked over at him.

“Well?” She said quietly. “Should I stop trying?”

He could tell the second question was only half in jest.

“Certainly not, that was lovely. Though I would be curious to hear you after you’ve practiced regularly.” He gestured for her to join him and she curled up close.

“Thank you.” She kissed him softly and LaCroix realized how much the hours of separation that evening had affected him. They often spent a number of hours apart, but they always woke together. It was one of those little things that is taken for granted until it isn't there.

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Kathryn relaxed with her back against his chest. After her impromptu concert he had brought her into the library and started reading her more of the Aeneid. She was surprised how right he had been that first night; she did understand a great deal of what he read without consciously trying to translate. Occasionally she had to stop him because she needed a moment to work something out, or it was completely unfamiliar to her. Those times he explained and made her repeat the words again. For the most part though, he read uninterrupted. She considered the fact that she liked his voice a bonus.

They were stretched out comfortably on the sofa and between turning pages, his right hand massaged her right breast possessively. In the beginning she had found his possessive touches unsettling. Not because of the touch itself, but because part of her found it so comfortable and familiar. Now she had grown used to tugs of familiarity that came with spending time in his presence. There were moments she could almost grasp why, but it always flitted away again. The one thing she could pin down was the fact that she was remembering more of the dream than she ever had before. She knew the two were connected somehow, even if that didn't seem logical. His fingers found her nipple and pinched softly focusing her attention again; Kathryn smiled and squirmed a little. Whatever this feeling was, it would work itself out.

He had been reading for about half an hour when Kathryn's cell phone started playing Beyond the Sea.

“Someone you know?” He had gotten used to her screening system, but still didn't know who everyone was.

“Yes, Grandmother.” Kathryn trotted over to the table where she had set up her laptop. “I hope she's alright, she never calls this late.”

“Hello.” She answered, her voice sounding a bit more guarded than usual.

“Well, you haven't dropped off the face of the Earth.” Minerva said without preamble.

“No. Did you think I had?” Kathryn sat down next to him and he cupped her breast again. She blushed deeply but didn't try to remove his hand. That would have been useless. She thanked goodness her grandmother couldn't see them.

“I've only been calling your house for three days now. I know you're not there much but you usually check your messages.” She sounded a little miffed, but relieved to hear Kathryn's voice.

“I'm sorry Grandmother, didn't you get my e-mail?” Kathryn relaxed against him.

“I told you when you were here for Thanksgiving that my computer was acting badly and your Uncle Michael still hasn't gotten here to put it right.” The computer was a gift from her Uncle Michael, in Kathryn's opinion he had gotten it for her so he didn't have to actually talk to her. He hadn't even bothered to teach her how to use it. What little she knew, Kathryn and her cousins had had taught her.

“I assumed that he had gotten there by now. I didn't mean to make you worry. The e-mail said that I would be at Lucien's retreat for awhile and probably wouldn't check messages until I got home.”

“And I take it you're still there.” Kathryn could hear the little smile in Minerva's voice.

“Yes.” Kathryn was smiling a little too. “So everything is alright then? You usually don't call this late.”

“Well it took me this long to find your cell number. I thought it was in my book but it wasn't and at my age I can only remember one number for each person. Anyway, I wanted to know when you were coming home for Christmas this year.” Kathryn started to squirm a little. She hadn't really forgotten about Christmas, but she hadn't thought about what she was going to say when the question came up.

“Well, I was thinking about that,” Kathryn started, hoping that she sounded convincing. “And I thought you might like to come here for the holiday this year.”

“What about the rest of the family?” Minerva said. “You know they all come over for dinner on Christmas Day.” Kathryn hadn't considered that. She was squirming, feeling his eyes on her.

“They can come if they want. I mean my house is big enough to hold them all for a gathering anyway-”

“Kathryn, stop being ridiculous and just ask the man to come with you.” Kathryn could tell that Minerva was somewhere between laughter and exasperation.

“It's not that simple Grandmother, besides you said yourself the whole family comes over-” Kathryn felt her heart starting to race, this was exactly what she had been trying to avoid.

“So? He's never seen a family gathering before?”

“No, I mean yes, but you know how they are-” Kathryn was flustered and trying very hard to get hold of herself.

“Yes I do, but he's a grown man; I think he should be able to manage. This is silly, let me talk to him.”

“What?” Kathryn cursed the sharp note of panic she heard in her own voice. She sat forward and hugged her knees, her mind racing to find a way out of this.

“You heard me. He's there with you, isn't he?” Kathryn could tell that Minerva was trying not to laugh.

“Well it's not as simple as that.” Kathryn was being intentionally vague. She could feel him watching her, and even though she couldn't look at him she could imagine the look of amusement on his face.

“Will you stop saying that,” Minerva laughed now. “It's perfectly simple. Just hand him the phone and pull yourself together while I introduce myself.”

Before she could respond he tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to hand him the phone. She was about to protest, but the look on his face told her that it wouldn't do any good. Reluctantly, she handed it to him and wondered how he always knew.

“Good evening Mrs. Bettancourt.” He smiled a bit and stroked Kathryn's blushing cheek. She found that she couldn't stay still, and listening to one side of the conversation suddenly seemed like some kind of torture. She got up and took her iPod into the drawing room.

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Extended time with mortals what not LaCroix's idea of fun. The year before he wouldn't have even considered it, but Kathryn had changed his perspective on many things in the last few months. He still wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew Kathryn and Minerva were very close and if read the subtext of the conversation they had just had correctly, Minerva had a great deal of influence with Kathryn. Refusal of her invitation might cause her to use that influence and that was not something he cared to consider.

Truthfully though, there was something about Minerva that he liked. He had spent time with mortals before; he had become quite comfortable with Kathryn sharing his space. He decided that he could manage a visit, and do it flawlessly.

He found her in his least favorite room in the house. The drawing room had always struck him as claustrophobic, no matter how he rearranged it. He thought it might have something to do with the fact that nothing in it really seemed to fit together. She was curled up with her earbuds in her ears. He concentrated and heard something similar to what she had played earlier. Her eyes were closed, so he touched her cheek softly, hoping he wouldn't startle her. She turned off the music and sat up.

“Your grandmother asked me to tell you she loves you.” He sat close to her and pulled her against him again. Had he been less able to express his feelings for her he would have simply announced the plans he had made. He knew that's how he would have handled the situation with any of his other children. In his quiet moments he realized that his most recent losses of those dearest to him had inspired a shift in his handling of those most intimate associates. He decided that the ability to learn from the past and to begin again was an advantage of immortality.

“So you had a nice conversation then?” She was nervous about that, though what she had expected to happen he wasn't certain.

“Of course. I had heard so much about her I was curious to speak to the woman herself.” It was true, though listening to both sides of Kathryn's conversation had piqued his curiosity further.

“Was she what you expected?” He could tell that Kathryn was avoiding asking the question she really wanted to ask. She hadn't even looked into his eyes, nor had she relaxed against him.

“It's difficult to tell over the telephone. She invited the two of us for the holiday.” Kathryn looked up at him; he could hear her heart beating faster.

“I can't go.” She said firmly. He was shocked by the vehemence of her statement. She got up and started pacing. “I'm not as far as I should be on the book.”

He rose and held her still. He was shocked at the change in her though. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction.

“You told me yesterday that you're ahead of schedule. Besides, I've already accepted, for both of us.” She moved away from him.

“Well then un-accept!” He was shocked by her raised voice.

“I will not. You want to see Minerva as much as she wants to see you.” He struggled to keep himself controlled. As much as she brought out the softer side of him he wouldn't accept disrespect.

“Then you can go by yourself.” She turned quickly and started out of the room. He was stunned into inaction for a moment.

“Kathryn, come back here! You're behaving like a child!” She ignored him and quickened her pace to a brisk trot. He could have stopped her easily, but he was not about to chase after her. For all the warmth she inspired he realized she had the ability to inspire just as much anger and if he put his hands on her he was afraid that he would injure her. To injure her if she was already one of his was one thing, he would have only her bruised emotions to deal with later. To injure her now meant he would have to deal with his own feelings of guilt while watching her heal for days or weeks. He went to the small pantry off the kitchen and downed a large glass in a single, greedy gulp. Blood taken from a cool glass never affected him in quite the same way as blood taken from a warm body did. It eased his sharpest edge of his anger, but it did not sate him the way it should have. He cleaned the glass and then left the house.

He rarely hunted when he spent time at the house. People would notice a series of disappearances and at least one person might notice those disappearances only occurred when he was in residence. He couldn't take the chance that the one who noticed would be ignored. The area immediately around the estate was sparsely populated, but there was a medium-sized town not too far away. On the outskirts he found a boy who was somewhat the worse for whatever he had been drinking. By the time he realized what was happening it was nearly over. LaCroix left the mutilated body in a stand of deep woods. His anger dulled and his hunger quelled, he returned to the house more slowly, turning his mind once again to Kathryn.

His first instinct, from the moment it happened was to teach her her place. He had been raised with the belief that sometimes a woman, even a dearly loved woman, required a lesson in respect. The fact that times had changed didn't change that basic belief. He hesitated though, and hesitation was something he had always considered to be less of a flaw and more of a deadly weakness. This time though it had probably preserved his relationship with her.

He entered the house again and sat in front of the fire in the library, half expecting that she would be in there. She had clearly acted like a child, and it occurred to him that a child was precisely what she was. For all of her wit, charm and intelligence, his Kathryn was still a very young woman who, in spite of Corrina's best efforts, had led a very sheltered life. That had been one of the things that appealed to him about her, but with that came the fact that she simply didn't have the experience to draw on in certain situations. He decided to find out more before deciding on a course of action. If it was only a tantrum he had enough control now to correct her in a restrained way, if it was something deeper he would make a decision about what to do. He picked up a newspaper and decided to let her have her time alone.