Time, Death & Scar Tissue...

8.Ritual, Art and Control

Like the night before they sat in relative privacy to enjoy the play. His arm rested around her shoulders and he spoke softly from time to time, commenting on the play itself or the acting. Even if rain hadn't been falling in icy sheets when they exited the theater, Kathryn got the sense that there would be no walk this evening and the return to his study for a drink was a given.

Kathryn slipped off her wet shoes and stood close to the fire when they got inside, shivering a bit from the damp. Her slight frame always seemed to make her more susceptible to chill than most people.

“He should have had an umbrella.” Lucien said, his voice still held a bit of upset. The look he had given the driver was positively withering. He placed a silky throw around Kathryn's shoulders and handed her a glass of brandy. She sipped and curled up next to him.

“There was no rain predicted for tonight, especially nothing like this. Besides, I've been rained on before and I'm still relatively intact.” She took another sip of the brandy. He managed a small smile but she didn't see much warmth in it.

“Have you been able to get any work done?” He drained the red wine and set the glass aside. Kathryn wondered if he ever took anything else. She took one more sip of the brandy and set it aside. She was sure that it was very good and she felt guilty not finishing it, but it was stronger than what she was used to.

“Actually, as I was getting ready tonight an idea struck me. I need to do some research and decide exactly how I want to present it in the book, but I'm pretty certain this is what I'm going to run with.” She settled comfortably against his shoulder.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow curiously. “What subject?”

“Religion and folklore concerning people like Paul, and how they are interrelated. Links with Catholicism and Catholic symbolism, that kind of thing.”

“So your vampire will be vanquished by the power of the church?” He sounded surprised.

“Certainly not.” She managed to keep from rolling her eyes, but couldn't keep the offense out of her voice. “I don't know if I believe that the church has any power at all. I don't mean to offend you if you're religious.”

“Not at all, please go on.” He was looking at her curiously, his arm around her shoulders.

“Well,” Kathryn was trying to ignore the pleasant sensations his touch was creating. “It occurred to me that Christianity didn't exist until a couple of thousand years ago. When did stories about people like Paul first show up? If it was before Christianity, what effects did previous faiths have and if they were the same doesn't that mean that it's the psychology of the one the symbol is used against that matters and not the symbol itself? If my character is a member of an older faith, is he impervious to religious symbolism after his transformation if it's not the right religion? I guess that's not what you would imagine I sit and think about.” She laughed softly and felt a blush color her cheeks a little, leaning forward to take a sip of her drink.

“I am learning to appreciate the pleasant surprises that come with asking you questions.” The throw moved slightly when she set the glass back down and his hand slipped under it, one of his fingertips contacting bare skin at the hem of the sweater. “Though I'm curious, what are your views on the subject of religion?”

“In what context?” She heard the soft hitch in her voice and she was sure that he did too. His fingertip moved softly, teasingly over her skin and Kathryn started to relax against his shoulder.

“I would imagine that your views in general affect your views in the book.” There was an amused little smile on his lips when he felt goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Well, again no offense intended. I was raised Roman Catholic and I still absolutely believe in a higher power, but I find the Catholic Church entirely too misogynistic and political for my taste. Besides, I think religion and faith are two different things. Rituals are just a means to control people and unify them for a common cause. Faith is more unpredictable and passionate.” Kathryn found that she had relaxed again, enjoying his touch and closeness.

“Very true. You never just look at the surface of anything, do you?” It was a statement, not a question. Kathryn shrugged a little, smiling up at him.

“Why would I want to do that? The surface of the majority of things is deceiving. Besides, my mother and grandmother both taught me to question everything. It drove my teachers crazy but I think it's helped my writing.” She laughed softly.

“What would your mother have thought of your books?” He asked, a bit more of his hand slipping under her sweater, stroking her spine lightly. Kathryn found she didn't mind the sensation at all.

“She would have loved them I think. I know Grandmother does. I think she gets more excited than I do when I'm close to finishing one.” She laughed softly and arched against him. “Of course without Jenna there might not have been a first book.”

“If you weren't writing, what would you picture yourself doing?” Kathryn thought it was a strange question in some ways. She also found that as much as she wanted to hide the fact behind her pseudonym she couldn't picture herself doing anything else. Stories came naturally to her.

“I really don't know, but something tells me that I wouldn't be sitting here now. I wouldn't have needed atmosphere and so I wouldn't have come into the club that night.”

“Do you intend to use my club in one of your books?” He looked mildly surprised.

“Oh gosh no.” She laughed and his eyebrows rose.

“No, that didn't come out right.” Kathryn said, blushing deeply. “This is why I'm a writer and not a speaker; at least on paper I can edit myself before I get my foot too far into my mouth. I mean it's just not Paul's style. Besides, it was so overwhelming that first night I think I could spend a whole book just describing it without really getting all the nuances.” He smiled a little before he brushed her lips with his.

Kathryn shivered pleasantly and heard her own soft sigh escape before she could think to stop it. She arched against him and his mouth became more aggressive, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hungry passion that made Kathryn shiver against him. The throw slid from her shoulders as she pressed against him, her hands stroking his back softly. Her hands were still hesitant despite the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. His mouth moved down over the front of her throat and Kathryn arched her head back, moaning softly as featherlight kisses trailed down to the hollow of her throat. His tongue swirled in the small depression, tasting her skin, one arm supported her shoulders, the other moved up her thigh to the swell of her hip and then under the hem of the sweater at her waist. Kathryn gasped softly and felt herself stiffen when she felt his cool fingers contact her now-too-warm skin. His thumb stroked her side softly as his mouth made its way back to hers, his lips softer this time. Kathryn felt some of the tension leave her body again. He looked down into her eyes and smiled a little. He got up and drew her to her feet as well in one graceful motion.

“Time you see the rest of my home.” Kathryn was trying to catch her breath as she followed him up a set of narrow stairs and into a room that resembled the one they had just left; only it was a good deal larger. Tall bookshelves gave way to a fireplace and a tasteful distribution of artwork that seemed to Kathryn to have been chosen because it appealed to him, not for any decorator’s ‘look’. The fire itself and the small lights over the paintings were the only illumination in the room. Furniture sat in shadowed clusters in several places. The opposite end of the room was occupied by a large library table. As her eyes adjusted she could tell there were lamps within the conversation clusters, they just weren't turned on. To Kathryn it felt like how she pictured a comfortable men's club, well appointed but not lavish.

“Another part of my collection.” He said after a moment of letting her taken in the room. He placed his hand in the small of her back and led her toward a dim hallway. “I am not a cook, so the kitchen isn't worth showing. There is outdoor space on the roof through that door, but the weather makes a tour right now unpleasant.” Kathryn hesitated and he pressed her forward gently.

“This,” He opened the door at the end of the hall and flipped the switch so that the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. “Is my sanctuary.” Kathryn scanned the room, imagining his pale skin against the deep merlot of the bedclothes, she blushed when she realized he was watching her very closely.

“It's beautiful.” She murmured and slipped past him to the great room again. “Was that a Leighton I saw hanging over the fireplace?” She heard a little quiver in her own voice as she looked up, studying the picture and trying to get hold of herself. For some strange reason she wished she had worn her shoes. When he stepped behind her she felt terribly short, not just average short. His hands rested on her shoulders.

“Yes, actually. You are familiar with his work?” His hands massaged gently and Kathryn felt herself relax again under his soft touch.

“Somewhat. I have a print of 'The Garden of the Hesperides' in my dining room, though now that I look more closely I don't think that's a print.” She felt his soft chuckle.

“No, it isn't. Are you familiar with this particular piece?” His thumbs caressed the back of her neck and Kathryn leaned back a little more.

“I think it's 'The Painter's Honeymoon', but I'm probably wrong. I'm no expert.” Kathryn felt her heart slowing and relaxation starting to wash over her again.

“Expert or not, you're correct. So, now I know that you have an appreciation of art as well as music and history.” She closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest.

“Well, some art.” His arms moved slowly around her shoulders and she leaned her head against one firm bicep. “Some more abstract pieces are completely incomprehensible to me. All that comes to mind is that the artist was angry with the canvas. I'm sure that's a very unenlightened view.”

“Some might see it that way. I prefer to think of it as honest.” He drew her to one of the shadowed sofas and Kathryn moved to him easily when he drew her close.

“Now that's one of the reasons I'm going to miss you next week.” She laughed softly.

“Oh?” His eyebrow rose a bit. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Well, no but I have to work sometime and I'm sure that you do too. Tempting as the thought is I can't monopolize all of your time.”

He smiled and brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

“What's to prevent you from working here?” He asked.

“Well,” Kathryn squirmed a bit. “It would be an inconvenience to you. I talk out loud and pace around sometimes. I'm sure it looks very strange, not to mention how annoying it probably is.” Kathryn was searching for words, the conversation with Corey flashed through her mind and she felt a bit unsettled by it.

“This is how you do your research? It seems like that might tend to make you very unpopular at the library.” Kathryn looked away.

“Well not when I'm doing the research portion so much. But I couldn't ask-”

“You aren't asking anything, I'm offering the comfort of my home and whatever benefit you might glean my collection. Do you think I offer that lightly?” There was a well-concealed hint of offense in his voice that made Kathryn squirm uncomfortably. In all honesty she didn't know why she was refusing.

“No, I don't. I have some previous commitments every week, if you don't mind me arriving at different times some evenings then I would be happy to accept.”

“What other commitments?”

“A Karate class on Tuesdays and a belly dancing class on Thursdays. Usually Corey and I have dinner afterwards as well.” Kathryn was cursing herself for waiting for his approval of her activities. She wasn't doing anything illegal or immoral and it wasn't up to him to give his permission.

“Strange, I never pictured you doing either one.” He smiled slightly, but his eyes were appraising.

“Well, running alone after dark I wanted some kind of self-defense training. Belly dancing was Corey's idea, but it's fun and relaxing.”

“You don't perform, do you?” The disapproval was back and she found that she didn't appreciate it very much.

“Of course not! Do you really think that I would dance like that in front of people?” She pulled away from him, her eyes challenging again.

“I think Miss James would and I wanted to reassure myself that she hadn't influenced you to as well.” His eyes were holding hers and Kathryn told herself that she wasn't going to look away first, but it was obvious that he wasn't either. His hand closed around her wrist Kathryn had to suppress the urge to struggle. “We will work out a schedule that suits you.” He said and Kathryn lowered her eyes, feeling unaccountably like a naughty child. She could tell that it was a compromise and that compromise was not something that came easily to him. Kathryn didn't resist as he pulled her close again, his hand firm on her wrist.

“Thank you.” She raised her eyes more hesitantly this time and lightly brushed her lips over his. His mouth was aggressive, his grip tight on her wrist. Kathryn gasped and trembled a little, giving in to him. He let her go and his mouth softened again, then retreated when the mantle clock struck five. The message was not lost on Kathryn. He expected to be in control at all times and her mind spun as he led her back downstairs and finalized plans for the next evening. She wasn't afraid of him exactly, but she wasn't sure that she would be able to give up having her own way. If anyone could even make her consider it though, it was him.