She would never know. Instead, she found herself reliving the moment of Lucinda's death over and over again, the horrible feeling of resistance as the knife had plunged into the other woman's throat, the startled look in the china blue eyes, the sudden slump as life left the body, and only Ashleigh held that body upright. Almost clinically detached at the time, Ashleigh found she was plagued by the horror of the moment, and the knowledge that she had killed so easily. Blood had gushed down her, staining her skin vividly, mingling with her own. Of course, she had killed before, but usually with a gun, a simple aim, a flicker of pressure upon a trigger, and a figure had slumped unmoving to the floor. How could the two ever be possibly connected? But this time, blame was unmovable, placed entirely upon her shoulders, twisting into her very being, eating away at her core. She had seen life extinguished in those eyes, haunting eyes, and she had been the cause. She had seen the pain, and been marked by the blood.
Drenched, saturated, soaked, smothered by blood, a thick, mercury like liquid that had rolled across her skin, hot and burning, a scorching contrast to the icy water that had surrounded them.
Subconsciously, she rubbed at the sopping bandage that was wrapped round her upper arm. She had been forced to see the doctor as she had predicted, and the wound closed with a few stitches that would eventually dissolve. It could have been so much worse, she shivered, she knew she had gotten off lightly. James had suffered cuts and bruises, but how close they had come to death... She shook her head, refusing to think such morbid thoughts.
After all, it was their job. All that just to save the world; what were their lives worth in comparison to the safety and continued security of the human race? All for Hermes, the canisters had been removed from her almost immediately, and for a moment, Ashleigh had found herself ready to snatch them back. She had fought so hard to retrieve them, they were hers, and hers alone. The possessiveness that had swamped her had scared her, but the cold fury that she had fought and killed for those small vials had taken over her, and she had almost lost it at they were taken away. But the obedient agent had acquiesced, and they had mysteriously vanished away. All the consignments of the virus that had been dotted around the world had been retrieved and no doubt destroyed.
But still... somewhere those two vials would sit, somewhere deep within an underground vault perhaps, just waiting, waiting for their moment. It would be a foolish country indeed that would throw away such power. They were all that remained of such a weapon; there was no way that the only country that held Hermes would be willing to destroy it.
And so it had all come to an end. Finally, M had dismissed her, and now Ashleigh found herself back in the same hotel room she had occupied for far too long, letting the hot water of the shower take away her troubles. Under the scalding deluge, she tried to forget, tried to push her thoughts far, far away.
But she couldn't. It had been three, no, four days now since she had seen him. Across her knuckles purple bruises were slowly fading to a sickly yellowish green. She had hit him hard, she had to admit that, examining the still tender marks, but how satisfying it had been to crash her fist into that smug, arrogant, smirking scarred face.
The same face that had been flickering at the corners of her mind, constantly at the edge of her thoughts. Awake or asleep, he dominated her, her very senses rebelled against her until she could almost feel his touch on her bare skin, or breathe in the cloying scent of his cologne...
Her hand slapped hard against the tiled wall of her shower, sending droplets of cooling water splattering onto her hot skin. She winced in pain, seeing the pale palm of her hand quickly reddening at the sudden harsh contact, and with a sigh, viciously turned the water off.
She had made her decision. And this time, she'd show him.
*
The darkness was almost complete outside, broken only by the dim light of the lamps that lined the long drive way. His reflection obscured most of the view outside, and he tried to ignore the reflection within the glass, instead staring out to where he knew the lake sat. In the dense blackness, the trees that surrounded the water were barely distinguishable from the night sky.
Chapter 32
Start from the beginning
