[center][img]http://i845.photobucket.com/albums/ab20/XxKayla36xX/Trixy.png[/img][/center]

Bartholomew reached for the knife to get a better look. For a while there was nothing to be read on his face, and then recognition lit his features. It felt like her blood was start to boil beneath her skin. She wanted to flip the table and scream and tear him to pieces all at once. But she didn’t, she stood there stoically while he attempted to explain himself.

[i]“It’s not my handy work if you are going to ask that,”[/i] Tholo said. Béatrix was about to interceded that ‘no, it wasn’t his, it was his father’s’, but he spoke too soon. [i]“It’s familiar however I will say that. When I was in Francis’ debt, one of the pack leaders I got info for was some rather irritable wolf carried a blade like this one. I avoided most conversations with him despite him having some odd curiosity for me, kept trying to get me to join his pack. Called me son once and gave me chills…”[/i] he continued speaking but those words hit her with all the force of a semi-truck, stunning her momentarily.

The investigator in her came out into the light. Trixy studied his face for any twitches or tells. She listened to his heart, measuring for sudden changes in beat. She looked at his pupils, watching for dilation or darting of the eyes. There was nothing… he was telling the truth. Trixy wasn’t quite as angry now, actually, she didn’t know how to feel. Her emotions were rollercoastering inside her and she somehow found herself fighting the urge to cry. Why did she feel like crying? She wouldn’t, she couldn’t! Not in front of him…

[i]“Do I want to know how you even got this?”[/i] he asked her. Béatrix forced her eyes to meet his. Tholo didn’t seem angry, he actually seemed just as confused and perturbed as her.

“You already do. I got it the same way we get most of our things: off the bodies of dead men.” her voice wasn’t cold, rather it was matter-of-fact. This was indeed a trait that they shared. Fate had done right in pairing them up there. Her feet suddenly didn’t feel very steady, so she took the seat across from him and stared at the table a while before speaking. “I went home. First to my grandsire in Scotland, and then to my château in France. Mostly to find myself and ponder… [i]you[/i].” She admitted the last bit with some hesitance. “When I sent that text, I was ready. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to feel what you feel. So, I jumped down and ran through the wilds… in my head you were there right beside me. I wanted you to be. It was stupid thing to do, I let my guard down, and he found me.” her voice was starting to shake and she wasn’t sure she could keep speaking. Yet, she had to tell her story, she [i]needed[/i] to. There was a way for her to tell the story without actually telling him: her gift. She could share her memories with him, as vivid in his mind as they were in her own, but that would leave her more vulnerable than she liked. 

“Can I trust you?” Béatrix asked in a voice hardly above a whisper. Tholo looked her over with a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and maybe even the slightest bit of… [i]concern[/i]? He answered her question with a quick nod. Trixy let out a deep exhale and stood up to walk over to him. Placing her palms on both of his temples, she closed her eyes - not because she had to, but because it helped to hold back the bloody tears that would surely come. Projecting into his mind was surprisingly easy, given his age. Normally Béatrix struggled with elder supernaturals, this must just be another soul mate quirk. 

Trixy showed him everything that she could remember. Bartholomew would be in her mind, watching her memories. It wouldn’t be like watching a movie, he would see everything that she saw from her first-person perspective. Béatrix did her best to reign in the emotions associated with it. He would see through her eyes, but he wouldn’t feel her pain, not until the most painful parts came up, that is.

[center][i]“Tell me,” he said before gripping her wrist and smirking at Bartholomew’s name. “Does my son like that, or am I killing you before he got the chance to fuck ya?”[/i][/center]

Béatrix winced through it, only managing to keep her grip and the mental connection up until the point where Trixy turned off her humanity. He didn’t need to see that. Rather, she didn’t [i]want[/i] him to see that. Her eyes brimmed with scarlet tears so she looked away from him quickly. “I thought that… that you knew… and the text… and he found me because you…” she couldn’t finish the thought.