Beguiled, The Deadlock series, Book 2

Chapter 4: Seduction

It didn't take long for me to finally realize I was able to contain my anger. My father's memory always had a calming effect on me. Besides, my love for Christopher still surmounted any other feeling.

For one brief moment, I felt our souls uniting, as we inevitably succumbed to the catalytic lunar spell, as if it would lull our tormented hearts. My eyes turned to him again. He was so close lying on that bench, only a few steps separating us physically. But the real distance between us was vast.

"What's going on inside your beautiful, little head?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the sky. Still, his voice was so wrong; the voice of a stranger.

"My thoughts have never been too hard to guess. Usually, I'm an open book."

"Not to me," his cold voice remarked. I wasn't sure if it was his tone or his words that evoked a new wave of anger inside me.

"Okay then. I'll enlighten you. I was thinking what perplexing character you are. I wonder how frustrating it must feel to lead such a contradictory life."

"Define contradictory," he said guardedly.

"You are a romantic dreamer who enjoys the full moon today and a tough League servant the next morning." I was determined not to mention anything related to our previous affair.

"The one does not exclude the other," he said calmly.

"No, of course not. Not if you're suffering from split personality disorder." I had started to sound bitter. Again.

"Is that how you think of me? That I'm suffering from some...mental disease?" He turned his head to look at me with a fake, broad smile.

"I'm starting to think there must be something in the air you breathe back there or in the food you eat that brainwashes you and makes it easier for the League to manipulate you."

He chuckled. "You've always had a very vivid imagination."

"Really? How else would you be capable of all this?"

"What do you mean? I'm capable of a lot of things." He sounded guarded again.

I didn't even think before going on to say what had been torturing me ever since Denzel had presented me with his farewell gift. The video of Christopher–different hair, unshaved face–shooting a dozen unarmed men and women, even a child, and enjoying it. It was Denzel's last effort to dissuade me from demanding Christopher's return to my world. To think that he was trying to warn me or to protect me would be an overstatement. It was foreseeable that sooner or later I would mention that gift to Christopher. What I never expected was that I would do it in a conscious effort to hurt him.

"Christopher, I know. I've seen the video. I've seen you. Denzel showed me."

Although he didn't move at all, I felt how alarmed he was since his body had become instantly tense under the disguise of a cool attitude.

"And what exactly did he show you?"

It was too late to stop now. The only way to get over this was to tell the truth.

"You. In that building with all those poor people. You had longer hair and a beard, but I recognized you. How could you kill all those people, Christopher? That was not collateral damage. It seemed like pure delight for you."

"How can you be so sure it was me?"

"I saw your face. Denzel thought it was a fitting goodbye present. He wanted to threaten me, I guess, so as not to disobey him. Or maybe he wanted to warn me."

"Warn you about me," he said in a voice that revealed how much I had hurt him.

He sat up abruptly. "I'm sorry you had to see that."