Tainted Innocence

Chapter 2

Cain Hawthorne Rietveld went in search of his dear Katarina not long after the "war" council ended. He found her alone in the library, pouring over old books like she always did when she was frustrated. He'd known her since she was a child, barely three years old, to be honest. She'd always been such a bright girl, full of life and innocence despite the nature of her family's business. Her entire character was something he'd only seen with her existence.

He sat down opposite her, pulling up a chair from a different table. The Durante library was mostly filled with books that detailed supernatural phenomena and spoke of the many ways to kill supernatural beings. He knew every tactic not only mentioned in the books, but were frequently used outside of them. He was the oldest man alive; it was hard not to create such interesting ways to kill different things.

Katarina didn't look up from her book, but he could see that it wasn't one of her ancestors' journals. It was a storybook actually, one that he'd seen only when she was a child. He remembered her asking him to read it to her once, but after he very flatly told her that fairy tales were for foolish maggots, she'd never brought it back to him. He hadn't regretted his words, but he hadn't been entirely pleased by her cold shoulder.

"Is my dear Katarina brushing up on her fairy tales so she can speak of them at school?" he quipped, resting his arms on the table. He put his chin on top of them, staring up at her with dancing eyes. "Or, does she prefer being trapped by the Beast as opposed to roaming the halls of Heathridge Academy?"

He saw a vein twitch above her left eye, but she didn't make any move to indicate that she'd heard what he said. He knew her inside and out; the simplest task in the world was telling when she was angry and when she was not. He was an expert at telling her moods even if she barely knew his. Of course, that was no one's fault but his own.

"Are you afraid of high school Katarina?" he inquired, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you afraid you won't fit in?"

"No," she said defensively. "I'm afraid of entering a world that I've only glimpsed from the sidelines. I am not cut out to be a hunter. But in a family full of them, choosing a different path isn't likely to receive much credit." She paused, her fingers trembling as she turned the page. "Besides that, I am a little frightened of death," she said softly. Looking up at him, he saw that her green eyes were slowly filling with tears. "I don't think I'm going to make them proud Cain."

He didn't know what was wrong with him, but every time she looked so vulnerable he felt a tug toward her. He stood up and walked around to sit in front of her, taking her hands in his. He brushed his lips lightly against her knuckles and gave her something akin to a smile, though he knew she only believed the ones where he showed his dimple.

"You are the most brilliant, more perfect Durante I have ever met," Cain said quietly, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "You may not kick a supernatural being's posterior in the traditional sense, but a Durante cannot only be made up of strength. They have to be smart too and that is you. I doubt either of your siblings could research like you do and keep their wits about themselves. That is a feat that only you have in this family."

Katarina barely smiled, but he saw the flicker of hope in her eyes. There was so much he wanted from her, but he had never declared any of it. She was the reason he was out of his painting and roaming the world as freely as he did. After he'd been moved from her room, he'd had the chance to leave, but he felt an undeniable connection to her. He'd been completely incapable of leaving her, even if her entire family did want him dead.

"Why do you still speak like you're from the sixteenth century?" she asked quietly, changing the subject. "Doesn't it drive you insane?"

Cain clicked his tongue in answer, cocking his head to the side. "I can't say that it does," he replied. "And as far as I have noticed, you speak in the same vernacular as I do. One should not display their hypocrisy so openly."