I don't go out to meet Thomas, or Levi, or whoever he sends to retrieve me, because even if I went to interrogate him, there's no knowing the full truth. Even Cato's rendition of Evelyn's death has its holes in the story. I'm better off at the estate anyway. At least here, my reality stays the same, a constant predictable stableness that I need in my life.

Besides, staying at the estate throughout the day has its own perks, one of them being the regularity of encountering Cato. Cato assigns us our duties, but the man has no idea what he's doing. The man thrived in academic chaos, and his organizational skills are quite subpar.

Annie seems to find joy in Cato's return to the estate, but the glamorous aura of Cato wears off when he assigns her to clean the garbage chutes. When I told Cato about how disappointed she was, he only shrugged and turned his attention back to his research with a simple: "Someone had to do it."

Last night, he pulled me into Evelyn's study—which now doubles as his temporary office—and confessed that he has "no fucking clue what he's doing". Together, we made a chart of what duties to assign each of the servants in the household, but by the morning all our hard work got thrown out the door when Audwin announced that he would be having business partners from across the country stay at the estate overnight.

Days pass of Cato taking charge, although most days he only appears in the morning and mid-afternoon to give us tasks. Otherwise, he locks himself in his mother's study and stresses over his data from his expeditions.

I knock on the closed door, only to hear his low voice rumble from the other side.

"Come in."

I sneak through the door and close it behind me. When Cato lifts his eyes from his work, they sparkle a little, and he beams into this boyish smile. It's no lie to say that this man still causes my heart to skip a beat, even if he's entangled with Gemma, and I with Thomas...

Don't think about Thomas.

The thought of him killing Evelyn still stings, but life goes on, doesn't it? There's no forgive, just forget, when it comes to Thomas.

But I know I can never forget him, and the way he viewed me as his most precious possession. Even in the dead of night, I still feel the phantom caress of his lips against my skin. A killer. Evelyn's killer. Yet, I still pose an attraction to him.

Cato frowns. "You alright?"

"Mhmm," I mumble, not wanting to tell him that I'm caught daydreaming about a man who tore my heart apart. "I'm just wondering if you need any help with tomorrow's schedule?"

Cato smiles. "You don't think I can handle it, do you?"

"You're a disaster waiting to happen," I retort with a small giggle.

"You know you're the only one who can say that to me and not get garbage duty?"

I shrug and take a seat across from him. Between the doorway and the chair, I swear Cato's smile beams wider. For the first time in days, I see a genuine happiness on his face, one that isn't laced with the sorrow of his mother's death.

On his desk, I take note of his laptop and digital journal, both open, both scattered with diagrams and images.

Cato catches me looking and chuckles. "I'd rather you just ask to see what I'm doing than sneaking around."

I pull the chair around the desk until I'm sitting right behind him. He playfully nudges me with his shoulder before sliding his digital journal in front of me. The screen lights up with a bunch of scribbled notes, but even with my inadequate reading skills, two words seem to stick out amongst the rest, almost as if the text were bolded.

The Occisor.

That drawing of that thing Thomas found when I stole Cato's information... Thomas thought it was a figment of Cato's imagination, or at least didn't believe it was as deadly as it sounded.

I point to the two words. "Can you tell me about this?"

"Fuck," Cato mutters as he swipes away from that page of his journal. "It's just something that I found. You wouldn't be interested in it—"

"I am," I say a little too eagerly.

Cato swallows nervously as his lips fall into a straight, uneasy line, but reopens up to the page that I pointed at. Most of it is writing, but an image catches my eye. Its a real occisor as opposed to Cato's ridiculous drawing.

Gods it's disgusting, and I swear I can see slime dripping through the hairs on its body.

"We found evidence of a life form outside of Earth," he finally admits, although his voice remains on edge. "We managed to capture an infant one and have it heavily contained in a warehouse just outside of New Aberdeen. Once the new research centre is built, we hope to transport it into a more monitored environment."

"It's hideous," I mutter.

Cato releases a tense chuckle. "I agree, but this discovery is huge. We went to dozens of planets and found evidence of living bacteria on each one, but nothing this large."

Or deadly, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm not supposed to know about the occisor.

Cato scrolls down the screen. "We found this on Evelyna—" his breath hitches as he says his mother's name, but he swallows his grief and continues on. "The planet's dynamics are similar to Earth. Plant life and oxygen are abundant, but this is the only evidence of something warm-blooded living on the surface."

"Do you think you're doing the right thing?" I ask him softly. "You took it out of it's natural habitat."

"It's for science," Cato responds. "We need to analyze it and document it. This could change the way we understand the world. Isn't that what we all want?"

"Yes, but is it docile?"

Cato stiffens and slides his tablet back over to him. He holds his breath, his cheeks puffing just slightly—an indicator of his inner frustrations.

"Yes, it's contained," Cato replies. Contained does not mean controlled. "You have nothing to worry about—"

His voice gets cut off by a soft knocking on Evelyn's study door.

"Mr. Leveque?" a soft voice calls from the other side of the door. It's one of the other handmaidens that works at the estate.

"Yes?"

"Ms. Patton is here to see you. She says you have dinner scheduled?"

Cato's once reddened cheeks drop several shades until he sits there like a ghost. He turns to me, suddenly a little flustered as he shuts off his digital journal and makes his way to the door. He props it open just a crack, just enough so that the servant girl can see his face, and not me who sits behind the door.

"Where is she?"

"In the parlour, waiting for you."

"Right..." Cato runs a hand through his chestnut hair, turning it into a mess of brown waves. "Tell her I'll be down in five minutes. I just have to finish up something."

The door clicks shut, and Cato's green eyes meet mine. The forests inside of them collapse at the idea of dinner with his fiance. He's admitted to me that night at the gala that he doesn't love her, but those feelings of jealousy begin to emerge again about him and Gemma.

I despise her with every cell in my body.

These few weeks of Cato residing at the Leveque estate throughout the day have made me forget about his engagement to Gemma. In the evenings, it seems to be Cato and I, talking long into the night as if we had never skipped a beat. He hardly mentions her, or the engagement, or the upcoming wedding...

Cato pinches his nose for a moment. "Could you make tomorrow's schedule while I deal with this?"

"It's dinner with your fiance," I say smugly, although he doesn't find humour in my tease.

"I'll review it tonight when I get back."

"When you get back?" I take one look at the clock. "Isn't that late? You'll be at your estate by then."

"Well if you plan to be asleep then there's no point, I guess," he winks at me. "Stay awake for me."

With this, he leaves the room.

The blood beneath my skin buzzes with warmth at the idea of him asking me to stay awake. Although I try to keep those feelings of intimacy aside, I can't help but still feel like the doting lovesick teenage girl I was when he left. Before Cato returned, I would call myself naive with the concept of love.

And then Thomas happened.

Thomas.

My face twists as tears begin to sting my eyes. I should hate him for what he did, and yet, why do I still feel my heart long for him? In the mornings, I watch from the windows as I catch the gleam of his car drive by the gates. He still comes, even though I haven't gone back in weeks. I miss him and his kisses, his voice, his comfort, his steadiness... but all of that was just a coverup for the darkness within him.

I find a blank sheet of paper and distract myself with organizing the schedule. My writing is anything but spectacular, but it seems that Cato is the only one who can decipher it. The benefits of being close with Cato is making sure that I don't get the unwanted chores. Annie would snicker if she figured out that, once again, I'm the favourite.

But I can't help it, can I?

By the time I have everything sorted out, I find myself falling asleep in the office chair. It smells like Cato, that soft whiff of cologne caught in the leather. The scent never changed since he left six years ago, and I haven't realized how much I missed it until now.

Oh Cato, what am I going to do?

I whip my head up from the chair. I fell asleep to the comfort of his scent. I'll admit, I'm glad I'm alone right now. If Cato discovered that the smell of him has enough power to ease me to sleep, he'd certainly never let me live it down. Or maybe the opposite. He'd make sure to help me sleep every night.

I gently shut the door to the office and scurry up towards my bedroom. I can smell remnants of Cato on my maid's dress, and I debate keeping it on rather than slipping into my night clothes.

I take a deep breath in as I open up the door to my bedroom.

But instead of Cato, I smell smoke.

My eyes latch onto the muscular figure of a young man, leaning against the window sill with a cigarette between his lips. He stands with his tattooed arms across his chest, letting the bandages around him peak out from beneath his loose t-shirt. Blue eyes blaze up to mine, igniting my blood like a match.

Gods, his blue oceans rage like dangerous hurricanes.

Thomas. How'd he get in here?

He snuffs his cigarette out on the window sill, leaving a burn mark in it's place.

"We need to talk, daffodil."

-----

I know this chapter is a little boring, but hey, we can expect some drama coming soooooon.

We all know Thomas wouldn't stay away for long though ;)

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