Hello, hello and happy hump day! I didn't think I was going to make it this week, but I finally managed to write some more on Bethany's and Hodgin's steampunk adventure. If you don't recall what happened last week, you can read the (short) brief HERE. Enjoy! And of course, don't forget to visit the rest of the awesome bunch of Wednesday Briefers!
*If you'd like to read all the previous chapters click HERE and scroll down to where it says "Light of Time"
Light of Time 7
They stared
at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Neither of them said a word.
Her dark eyes had widened at his accusation and a brief instant of panic seemed
to have crossed her countenance, but just like it appeared, it disappeared.
Bethany
gazed at him with surprising calmness. Her features were set in stone,
betraying none of her thoughts. The absurd idea came to him that if she wasn’t
a woman she’d be a fine spy. She would need some training in arms and a little
more practice to fully conceal her thoughts, but Bethany was not easy to read. It
surprised him but it also made things much more difficult. Ever since he had
contacted her, he had been hoping for a quick tête- à -tête. He would extract
some information from her and send her back on her way.
Now, he knew
that it would not be an easy task. Bethany would tell him some things, he didn’t
doubt that, after all, he was the only other person that believed in her suspicions,
but she would not tell him what he really needed to know. Things would progress
slowly but perhaps it would be for the best. Sometimes slow was better than
fast.
“I
apologize again, my lady. I am pushing you for information and confessions when
surely you still grieve your family’s death.”
Bethany
remained silent as he moved back toward the window, his back to her. He watched
her reflection in the glass. She barely moved, except to cock her head to one
side, absently staring into space.
“Where did
you get that particular painting, General?” Her soft voice had him turning to
look to where she had her gaze pinned.
“The bat?”
Bethany
walked closer to the old painting that hung on the far wall of the drawing room.
“A bat, you say?” She inspected it closely, clearly looking for something. “It looks like spilled ink to me.”
Hodgings
shrugged. “The person that gave it to me said that was the beauty of it. It was
perceived differently by each individual.”
“Who gave
it to you?”
In three
steps he was at her side, glaring down at her as suspicion gnawed in his gut.
“Why do you
wish to know?”
Bethany didn’t
bother to face him as she replied in a soft voice. “Because I would like to
know if it was the same person that gifted a similar blot to my grandfather.”
Hodgins’
brow furrowed. “Your grandfather has one? He never mentioned it and he visited
with me frequently.”
“When was
it given to you?”
“What does
it matter?” She made to move away, but he reached for her wrist, violently
veering her around. “What does it matter?” He ground out the words, demanding
an answer from her.
Anger flared
in her eyes as she pulled away from his grasp. “What difference does it make
for you to tell me General Hodgins?
You lie to me, you kidnap me, you tell me not to trust you and you throw
accusations at me which you expect me to answer to without blinking an eye?”
Hodgins eyes widened with surprise at her outburst. Bethany backed away from him, gesticulating
wildly.
“Yet, when I ask you a simple question you refuse to answer and immediately
go in the defensive. I don’t care if you’ve been secluded here for the past 10,
20 or 30 years, I don’t care that your human contact has been scarce. You, sir,
have no manners. I believe you thought you could lure me here and extract any
information you needed from me. You are wrong.” She wagged a finger at him, coming close again.
“You think I’m one of those dim witted women brought
up under the Nuold influence. You think you can manipulate me and extract
information from me in a cinch.” Hodgins almost dropped his jaw when she poked
him in the chest. “You are wrong about me, very, very, wrong.” She punctuated
each word with a hard poke. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change back
into my clothes and find a way out of this hell hole.“
She had almost made it to the door when he recovered from his shock.
"May 31st. The day before the Hummingbird 121 incident. It was a parting gift."
To be continued...
Now go read some more awesome stories!
Now go read some more awesome stories!
Way to go Bethany :) It's unfolding slowly but every flash progresses it forward and intersting step. I like stories that take their time, especially when there are strong women and mysteries
ReplyDeleteThanks Nephy :-) Yep, things are going a bit slow, but I can't seem to hurry them up (especially since I'm not even sure where it's heading :-p)
Delete