Marriage is Murder

"Let's give them a bit," Kate said gently. "Robert isn't as out of control as he believes he is. He just is more angry than any of you is used to seeing and he doesn't show that to anyone. Why Khaat is good with it, well, I'm not exactly sure, except that they're so bonded that it doesn't bother her. He's just blowing off steam."

"Indeed," Michael said. "He sees anger outbursts as a loss of power and control. He typically responds to anger by getting proportinally quieter the angrier he becomes. But even he has his limits. And having someone he's trusted his entire life betray him like this is beyond his abilities to pretend he's in control about. He'll be back shortly. Once he creates enough mayhem someplace to make him feel better. He did this once in school, during a summer break."

"I don't remember that," Kate frowned.

"No, of course not. You were on summer break in France. Robert's uncle was murdered by the Death Eaters with no apparent reason other than just because they wanted to. That was the last time I've seen him need to go blow off some steam, but don't think I didn't see it coming. It won't last long, and he'll gather up Khaat and return. Mark my words."

"True," Kate said.

"They'll be fine," Michael said.

"As long as Thaor shows up dead, then Robert will be fine," Brian said, coming downstairs. Since Khaat had apparated out there was no point in him staying upstairs by himself. "And Robert would probably enjoy doing it himself."

"At the moment, yes," Michael said, "but he'll reconsider. he won't keep this rage forever. That's precisely why he went to do this. Its very much the same as you lot going for a run when you're stressed. He's just doing this in his own way."

Khaat watched her father's rage play out in crashing waves. A raging sea in front of him that he simply pushed more and more just because he could. When he finally had released enough, the sea began to die down on its own. He finally turned and saw her there.

"How long have you been here?" he asked quietly. She just looked at him. He could see in her eyes that she'd seen nearly the whole thing. She just shrugged. It wasn't like she didn't feel much the same way. She wished she'd done that herself, actually. "And so, I'm not a saint anymore?" he asked. She rolled her eyes at him. She knew more than anybody that he was no saint.

Robert apparated them back home but brought them outside onto the well guarded grounds. Kate knew instantly they were back but she said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Robert said to Khaat, his hand around hers. "I knew he was getting sick, but I didn't know he was going to betray everything we knew, everyone he said he loved. I truste him with my life. And, more importantly, I trusted him with you from the tie you were born. I didn't know."

Khaat saw it a bit differently. Thaor hadn't gotten weird until relativvely recently. He hadn't always been disloyal. He hadn't always been willing to sacrifice those he loved. She didn't know what happened to him. But she was very grateful to the two Death Eaters who were still her friends who had risked themselves as best they could to keep her safe and to get her out alive. That was worth a great deal. She shivered. It was still spitting snowflakes, and she'd been out in the cold a long time. She was chilling. He kissed her temple. They reached the house and he stopped her to look into her face. "Khaat, I know you're going to want to go after him. And you have that right to want to. But you leave Thaor to me. I've known him longer than you've even been alive. So this is a fight thats older than you are, and it calls for more experienced hands. You leave him to me. The thing about Thaor is that he'll underestimate me. It won't ever occur to him that I'm capable of it. As much as he thinks he knows me, he doesn't know it all. And, believe me, I won't underestimate him again."

"You're like ice," he said quietly. "We'd better get you inside. Come on. I've probably scared the shit out of all of them."

The next Khaat knew, she was waking up. She was cold. It was dark, and she was covered with snow. Her head hurt--really hurt. It took her quite awhile to realize that she couldn't remember anything. Not her name, not anything. It was all gone. Her clothes were torn and filthy and bloody. She was filthy and bloody and wounded. She could hear cars and traffic not far off. She saw she was in a park, shoved between a stone building and a dumpster. It took her some time, but she pulled herself up and out from where she was wedged. In the distance she could hear the time honored chimes of Big Ben. London.

She tried to walk but she was staggering, dizzy, weak, hurting. She knew she was completely disheveled. She managed to walk a bit and found herself soon in a side street behind some commercial buildings. She smelled food. And as much as she hurt, her hunger made her go into the back door of the building. She found herself in what looked like a restaurant kitchen. But her knees would not hold her. Her body went limp as two hands caught her. Everything went black.

Kate merely nodded. So much had changed. They'd pretty much shut their own farm down, moved their animals to Brian's barn, and they'd moved the necessities into the bedroom they used at Brian's. They were helping to raise their grandchildren. And Robert and Brian were barely ever home. When they weren't working, they were searching for Khaat every available moment. They were learning to sleep only in short intervals most of the time. Catnapping. They had stopped going to bed. They had mobilized every single trusted friend they had. Kate didnt know how much longer Robert and Brian could go without a solid night's sleep.

Khaat was waking again. She was being carried into a hotel room--a very elegant one--and being put on the bed. The man who carried her was in a proper black suit with a white shirt and a tie.

"Mrs. Wolf," he said. "Your friend was in here a few days ago. Shall I send for him?" Friend? She had a friend? This man knew her name? She tried to speak, and nothing came out. She looked at her hands. He called her Mrs. She was married? There were no rings on her hands. They were gone. What if her husband had already left her? Did she have children?
"I'll send for him for you."

Michael was splitting his time between home and Brian's. Tonight he was home. He had dozed off near the fire, his feet resting on Otto, a first edition Byron on his lap, a glass of port on the side table.

The next he knew, he was awakened by an owl at the window, shaking the snow from its feathers. He opened the window and let him in. A friend, a middle man, was the connection for him between the muggles and the wizardiing world. The night manager at the St. James was sending for him? What the hell? He got up, put on his shoes and his winter coat. He picked up his wand and ported to London.

He walked the short distance to the St. James and went in. The night manager met him.

"Mr. Stole. Thank you for coming," the man said. "Would you come with me please?" He merely presumed Michael would follow and led the way upstairs. Michael didn't say anything but he was on his guard. He went upstairs and went into a hotel where a consierge was attending someone. When they entered, the consierge moved. Michael's eyes grew wide.
"Is this not someone you know?" the night manger asked.

"Yes indeed," Michael said quickly. "Leave us. I'll pay for her bills. Send us some hot tea at once." They left and Michael went straight to Khaat. She had lost so much more weight he barely recognized her. She was still in the same clothes they'd seen her last in, and she clearly was hurt. The empty look in her eyes told him she didn't recognize him. He instantly suspected she'd either been bewitched or hurt.

As for Khaat, she recognized the face, but she didn't have a name or know how she knew this man. She was exhausted, though, and the warmth of the room was affecting her. Before the tea could arrive, she sank into an exhausted sleep.

Michael was torn. After her being gone so long, he wanted to immediately alert everyone. But, she clearly hadn't slept in longer than anyone knew. He decided to wait, as much as they would be angry. So he picked up a magazine from the coffee table in the hotel suite and waited. When the tea arrived, he drank it himself.

At sunrise, Brian and Robert came home to shower and change, get breakfast with the kids and the others before heading back out again. While they were in the shower, Michael's owl arrived at the kitchen window with a note on stationary from the St. James hotel.

It read: "Come. Bring clothes, first aid supplies. I shall have her with me. M." He trusted they would know he meant clothes for her and Robert's medical bag. He also presumed they'd figure out from the short crytic note that Michael had found Khaat and he had her at the St. James. Wolf was an alias Brian had invented when they'd stayed there the first time, so Michael presumed they would figure out how to find her in the hotel once they got there.