IN DAYLIGHT AS ONE Twilight smoothed itself over the city in peace. Edges darkening into deeper blue curled around the horizon, sealing the city with the promise of a new night.
by Linda Mooney
I ~ The NewsCatherine sat cross-legged on the chaise lounge, writing in a small book bound in red leather. The glow from the single table lamp within the apartment shed enough light on the lined pages so that she could read what she wrote. A slight breeze across the balcony wafted a few strands of hair across her eyes and she brushed them back behind her ear when she felt a movement behind her. She closed the book, waiting for the figure to slip down the brick wall.
"I was hoping you would come," she whispered.
The figure moved toward her until it stopped just short of arm's reach. The lamp light shown across the high cheekbone and straight leonine nose.
Vincent lowered the black hood, tilting his head slightly. "You must be working on something very important. When you read silently to yourself...and your lips move...it shows great concentration."
She smiled. Laying the book and pen to one side, she rose to step up to him, encircling his waist with her arms and placing her head to his chest. Vincent brought his arms around her shoulders and felt her love warm him deep within. He nuzzled her hair, feeling her emotions like a soft blanket enclose him through their unique bond. Sighing, he released her and leaned back against the balcony edge.
Catherine could not help but notice the slight change in Vincent's demeanor. Not quite as attuned to him as he was to her, she could feel, yet, that he had something important to tell her. Suddenly she became apprehensive.
The look in Vincent's eyes was comforting. "Why are you afraid?" he asked.
She shook her head gently. "I don't know. I'm sensing from you...I don't know...like you have something to tell me. Something special."
Vincent gazed downward. His golden hair, streaked with silver from the moonlight, briefly hid his face from her. But when he looked back up such joy was in his eyes.
"Catherine," he caressed her name. "Do you remember back that afternoon in the Cavern of the Falls...when we spoke of going to your cabin in the mountains in Connecticut?"
The memory itself was painful. Catherine drew a sharp breath, remembering their dream of going away together ...away from both their worlds...and to a world that held just the two of them. But Father and the others had convinced Vincent of the danger should he be seen or caught away from the sanctuary of the tunnels. And so their dream had died.
Vincent felt her sorrow and reached out to her. He tilted her chin to gaze at the beautiful curve of her face, and the tender smile he gave Catherine was reassuring.
"This joy I feel, Catherine, is partly because of the news I bear." He paused hesitantly, almost shyly, before continuing. "I promised you that one day, somehow, we would see that lake together."
"Yes." she murmured, her heart racing, fearing to hope. Afraid to even allow herself to dream.
"Do you...can you rent that van for us...again?"
She couldn't breathe. The far away light glanced off his canines as she watched his lips form the words. The cool September air billowed about them and she involuntarily shivered. Immediately he became concerned.
"Are you cold?"
"No." she replied quietly. "It's just that..." she began, but stopped. "How-? How can we go away? I thought Father wouldn't let you leave."
"I know. He still doesn't approve...but I had a dream. A vision. Of the two of us. Walking together in the daylight."
Catherine nodded, understanding what he meant. Vincent's dreams often reflected bits and pieces of the future: Sometimes of things that would be, and sometimes of things that could.
Vincent continued. "But what I felt during these dreams...I cannot explain fully. Only, believe me when I tell you that any doubts I had, any fears I felt about leaving my home Below, simply vanished. Also,". he added. "I had an unexpected ally.'"
Catherine smiled into his eyes. "An ally? You mean there is someone in the community who is on our side?"
Vincent nodded. "Narcissa," he announced.
She was dumfounded. "Narcissa? I don't understand."
"Neither do I. She appeared in Father's cavern the morning after my dream. After she left he came to see me." He stopped for a moment.
"And...?" Catherine prompted.
He sighed. Stepping back, he turned and looked out upon the panorama of the city lights. "We talked about you...and me...and then Father brought up the subject of the cabin in the mountains. Apparently Narcissa convinced him that if I were to go, nothing would happen to prevent my coming back to the tunnels safely."
"But why would she specifically go to Father to tell him that?" They both knew that the mysterious. blind woman kept largely to herself, traversing the lower caverns and rarely ascending to the upper levels where most of the Society dwelled.
Broad shoulders shrugged. "Who knows why she does all that she does? Her life consists of spells and magic. Yet I've never known her to speak wrong. Father knows that, too." He reached out his hand to lay on top of hers on the balcony rim. "Father once told me he would give anything to let me have a chance at...at what normal men take for granted." He looked piercingly at her.
"To walk unafraid in the sunlight."
Catherine could feel the sweet sting of tears well in her eyes as the impact of his announcement registered. Suddenly a door seemed to open for them both with unknown experiences waiting for them to behold.
She gently cupped Vincent's cheeks in her hands, wonderment and tears edging her voice. "Then it's to be? We can escape from here and go to the lake? Just us two?"
"Yes, it is. I'm to let Father know of our plans."
Joyously she threw herself against him, grasping the sides of his soft black cloak. He held her fiercely, overcome by her happiness and his. Looking up at the bright three-quarter moon, he silently gave a prayer of thanks for the thousandth time for having her in his life.
II -The Escape
Once more Catherine went over the list in her head. She had been the most careful when buying foodstuffs for the two days they'd planned on staying.
She'd accompanied Vincent several times to partake of what the tunnel people called Evening Meal, and knew that their diet was richly varied - thanks to the Helpers Above who supplied their meats and most of the fresh vegetables. However, all their meats were either grilled, baked, or roasted over cooking fires or in kiln-like ovens. Vegetables were stewed, boiled, or steamed; there were no refrigerators Below and cold foods were a rare treat. So she had planned their meals to suit what Vincent was accustomed to, but that didn't rule out her preparing an occasional small side dish for him to taste to see if he liked it.
She had also packed warm clothes, mostly jeans and pullover sweaters. Although snow would be unlikely so early in the fall, the nights would definitely be very cold in the mountains. Just right - she blushed - for what her own father used to refer to as "cuddling weather".
Catherine glanced at her watch. She was to meet Vincent at the Fourteenth Street exit in a half hour. The tunnel entrance was beneath an abandoned building, but a short alley dead-ended by a side entryway and Vincent could enter the passenger side of the van she had rented without being spotted.
Already her heart was racing with anticipation. Just the thought of being alone together, away from the forces that seemed to compete at keeping them apart, made her giddy. She almost felt like a college freshman again, away from home and parental eyes for the first time, responsible only for herself and any actions she might choose.
She pulled into the deserted alley at the planned time. Dousing the lights, she waited in silence and within minutes she saw the side door open and a familiar tousled head poke around the frame. Smiling, she signaled and reached over the passenger seat to unlock the door.
"Mouse!" she whispered.
The head bobbed up. "All clear? Okay, good!" The head disappeared back into the building. Catherine's night vision had adjusted itself in time to see the large black figure emerge from the doorway. The side cargo door of the van slid open and Vincent tossed in a leather valise. "Get up front," she ordered.
He slammed the door shut and climbed into the front seat next to her .
"Keep your hood up," she advised him. "These windows are polarized but city street lights are bright. We wouldn't want to take chances of you being seen."
The cowled head nodded.
"Better fasten your seat belt," she said as she backed the van carefully into the street. "I'm going to drive the speed limit until we get out of New York - the last thing we need is for the police to pull us over for a traffic violation."
The voice that could melt her soul, the voice of silk on sand, spoke from the jet-colored hood. "Catherine, you're speaking of things I'm not familiar with. What is a seat belt?"
Stopping at a red light, she leaned across him to pull down the shoulder harness and buckle the lap belt. As she looked up into his eyes partially shielded by the cloak, she smiled, trying to ease his nervousness.
"Drive with care," he whispered. I have clung to the roofs of subways travelling at great speeds, but this "
Catherine touched his shoulder to comfort, then turned back to concentrating on the two- hour drive ahead of them .
Neither spoke a word while the van left New York City, passed through New Rochelle, and skirted White Plains and into Connecticut. Catherine found her favorite classical station on the van's radio and she noticed Vincent visibly relaxing to the strains of Puccini's "La Boheme".
"Mmm...I've always loved 'Musetta's Waltz'. So tell me...what are you thinking?"
Vincent lowered the hood. Reaching up to touch the glass of the side window, he sighed deeply. "'Oh, stranger in a strange new land,"' he quoted.
Catherine laughed. "We've done it!" she cried aloud. "We're here. We're free. Oh, Vincent." She shook her head happily. "I can hardly believe it!"
From the corner of her eye she saw his finely formed face watch her, and the look in his crystal blue eyes promised her a world of possibilities.