Beguiled, The Deadlock series, Book 2

Chapter 1: Angels

"Your taxi is coming," the young woman shouted behind the counter.

Curled in the backseat of the taxi, I watched the headlights of the cars passing by. We were already on the highway and despite the fact that it was still early in the afternoon, the gloomy shroud of the menacing storm covered everything, stalking my escape.

Angels can tell when you need them. They sometimes call you when you least expect them to; when you think they have forgotten about you the same as you have forgotten about them.

I jerked to the persistent buzz of the pouch hanging from my belt. "Hey? Did I catch you in a bad time?" Alex's voice sounded worried through my cell phone. Alex. A rainbow in the storm of my torment.

"Alex! Thank God!"

"What's going on, Emma? Where are you? You don't sound good."

"It's over, Alex. It's all over. You were right. I shouldn't have gone there. Now, it's too late." My voice broke. Tears were streaming down my face and I realized I was sobbing.

"Emma, can you hear me? Concentrate. Where are you?"

"In a taxi...somewhere...near Pylos."

"Where are you going?"

It was so hard to collect my thoughts. "I'm going to ...Korinth. Yes, I'm going to Korinth."

"Okay. I'll get there as soon as I can. Just go home and wait for me. I'll take you away from them. Do you hear me?"

"Yes. Hurry, please."

"I'll see you soon. Just call me when you get there, okay?"

"Okay."

"Hang on, Emma. Listen to me." he said in a calm, steady voice for which he'd never guess how grateful I was at that moment. "Try to relax. Everything will be all right."

I wiped the blurred glass with my sleeve and looked outside. The dark clouds that carried the torrential hailstorm were now moving to the north, hiding the mountain-tops behind the haze.

Are angels likely to play tricks on you? To try and fool you? Is it possible that they might let you take a glimpse of paradise just to make you realize what you've lost afterwards, when they have deserted you? Do they let you believe they've always been there, eternal guardians of your soul, until one day you wake up to find you are on your own, wondering if they've ever really existed or they've been just a figment of your imagination?

I had a guardian angel once. In his eyes I found the bluest skies. It was the hint of the oncoming storm that I missed. His face tortuously gorgeous, altogether perfect. His heart a bleeding wound because of his haunting past, searching for healing. When he first revealed to me that he came from the future, I was certain he was a compulsive liar. Yet, when he unveiled his assignment in my world, he scared me to death because the charming tutor I thought I had spent the night with, was transformed into an ex-assassin, a Crusader of the Future World, entrusted with the mission of protecting my life. Because on that same night, I discovered I was going to be murdered for the same reason my father had been murdered thirteen years ago.

The deplorable twist of the story had totally been my fault. After all, Christopher would still be one of the Crusaders if he hadn't traded his freedom for my life. I wouldn't have suffered the ordeal of the car crash the night I was told he'd left me, a near-death experience, months in a wheel-chair and, worst of all, the loss of our baby. Although I found out about my pregnancy after the car crash, when it was too late, the loss was still an open sore for me. But he didn't know anything of this. I would always wonder if there was a chance we could still be together had I gone along with the League's orders. If Christopher hadn't chosen to offer himself to his worst nightmare, Denzel, commander of the Squad, the Special Forces of The League. He had been Christopher's boss in the past, after he had him arrested years ago in their time, when Christopher was just an abused teenager. He'd recruited him to the Squad and trained him until Christopher became the most efficient Squad agent: a ruthless killer, a soldier of The Future, condemned to defend the secrets of The League. They had ordered my father's murder when he refused to cooperate and conceal their secrets. And Christopher had taken part in what happened, although not directly. The League had ordered my death too when they found out I was following on my dad's steps to excavate the area where the Gateway that connected our worlds lay. That was when Christopher came to my time to save me. And he did it out of love. Unfortunately, it was just for a while. Because when I challenged the League, I turned them against Christopher too. That was how he had decided to put an end to the threat by surrendering to Denzel and going back to a life he'd tried so hard to redeem his soul from. I knew it was worse than death for him, but I knew he did it for me.

I'd do everything to get him back, to disentangle him from the Squad's claws. That was no secret to Denzel. So, here I was, a double agent, ostensibly on a new mission assigned by the same people who had ordered my death. I was supposed to locate the Gateway for them, which had for some strange reason, moved. For an even stranger reason I couldn't fathom, Denzel was convinced I was the only one who could carry this mission through. Such was his despair to find the Gate that he had accepted my one and only condition: to let Christopher come with me. To my astonishment, Denzel had no clue of the clandestine save-Christopher-mission the Crusaders had organized to get their comrade back. Which was going pretty well and according to plan apart from a slight detail which changed everything. No sooner had I gotten back to my world with Christopher when I discovered he was different. A changed man, a cruel assassin once again, a loyal Squad member who made it clear I meant nothing to him anymore. In his eyes, my mission to save him was nothing but a huge blunter. And my life was hanging in the balance.

That was why I had no other choice but run away from him in the rain; because I was pretty sure I couldn't endure another second near him without risking my sanity.

When I got out of the taxi I took a moment to stare at the beach house in front of me. The house Christopher had bought that summer for us. I was determined to clear my thoughts of anything related to him. Since he was gone, the place felt desolate, forlorn and abandoned. The oversized arched windows looked harrowing dark in contrast to the white of its walls but the flowers in the garden were still in life, breaking the gloom that pervaded the place. My nostrils filled with smells of the sea, its whining breaking the silence of the night reminding me it was still there to comfort me.

I found the key behind the gardenia pot where I always left it in case he came back. Every time I tried to reach it I prayed for it not to be there. But just like today, it was always there. I unlocked the heavy wooden door and took a few seconds before I entered. This would be my first time in our house without the hope that Christopher would return. Never before had that place seemed emptier to me. I closed the door behind me and almost ran up the stairs. My movements were mechanical, fast. I took off the clothes that had already dried on me and showered. It was unbearable and, at the same time, wistful for me to stay here. I should not let my mind play the same tricks again, recalling his face, imagining him sitting in the living room, on the porch, or lying in bed next to me.

After the shower that did little to alleviate the ache inside my chest, I curled on the sofa in my bathrobe with a glass of wine. I turned on the TV hoping it would distract me. Alex wouldn't answer his cell phone, but I kept calling him several times and left a couple of messages. What could have happened to him?

Things would have been much different if I hadn't crushed Alex's hopes last Christmas in London, when I told him outright that I only saw him as a friend. We had a terrible fight, which ended with his departure for Greece. I had no one to blame but myself. If I hadn't taken advantage of Alex's feelings for me for as long as Suzan, my Crusader friend, needed him as a cover up while she prepared me for my time-travel and my encounter with Denzel, maybe things would have turned out differently. Alex had forgiven me for what I did. But it didn't mean I forgave myself.

It was already dark outside when I began to wonder how long it would take for him to get here. More than four hours had passed since he'd called, but I told myself I shouldn't panic. He should be here in any minute. Then he would take me away from here and we'd try to find Tom or Susan. They would know what to do. As long as I didn't have to look into those empty, deep-blue eyes again. I would manage to go on somehow, to find a way to survive. I had done this before. I should know.