Disclaimer: I don't own Holmes.
A/N: Thanks to all those who have continued to read and support this story—I'm glad that Moran was convincing enough, because you'll be seeing more of him as the story unfolds. This chapter is a bit short, as it provides a brief pause for character development before the action continues...there will be new plot not seen in the previous version in the following chapters, so please stay put.
P.S. Those of you who have read New Ally, be wary of nuggets in the words!
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Chapter 6- Tigerlily
The strangely familiar woman stepped from her spot in the darkest corner and made to beckon me through the exit. She stood in the doorway as still and as poised as a marble statue; nothing in her pale porcelain features betrayed any of her inner emotions. As I passed, her shocking light blue eyes hardened into jagged shards of ice as she haughtily followed my progression without moving her head.
A flash of recognition overcame me as she stepped into the illumination of the candlelit corridor. Even had I not noticed the slight tilt of the chin away from me that signalled an inclination to hide her face and the piercing look in her eyes, the angular nose and stark blond hair tied stiffly into a bun gave away her secret at once.
"Julia Stamford," I uttered breathlessly, wondering how Peter's sister could have strayed so far. "You were at Trafalgar Square last night, weren't you?"
"I was wondering whether you would recognise me," she responded evenly, averting her gaze from me for the first time that morning.
"Why are you here?" I asked, recalling with a stab of anguish how fondly Stamford had always spoken of his sister. 'This news will crush him, I'm sure.'
Her eyes flashed with a glint of indescribable fury as she fixed them again upon my own, and her voice shook slightly despite the vice-like grip she held over her emotions. "That is not your affair."
"Have you spoken with your brother? He'll be very concerned—"
She barked a harsh laugh at this. "Concerned?!" she spat venomously with as much disgust as if she had uttered a blasphemy. "He was always too busy with his duties at the hospital. My brother never showed me any concern when he shipped me off to a desert on the other side of the planet! My brother was never concerned when I was forcibly ripped from my home! He wasn't even concerned enough to respond to my pleas for help. The only reason why I am even alive is due to none of his doing. I think it's a bit late for mere concern."
There was very little that I could say to this, and for a time we strode down the narrow corridors in tense silence. Here was yet another obstacle to overcome. The girl had obviously been traumatised, allowing Moran to mould her will and poison her mind effortlessly with an efficacy so cogent that most would be hard pressed to associate this being of ice with the vibrant, vivacious girl she once was.
"Why did you call him that?" she asked unexpectedly as she suddenly halted, turning to me as her penetrating eyes probed suspiciously for any intimation of manipulation.
"What do you mean?" I respond, startled from my thoughts by her query.
"Why did you address Markus as 'Colonel Moran'?"
I blinked away my shock at her words so bluntly spoken, before seeing the minute chink in her almost foolproof façade. "I called him by that name because it is his own." I replied as evenly as I could. "His true name is Sebastian Moran, and he is the current head of the largest crime ring in Britain. He has been responsible for the destruction of countless lives, and he will toss you aside as soon as you have outlived your use."
Her eyes widened briefly in horror at my scathing remark before narrowing dangerously once more. "I have had enough of your lies!" she snapped angrily, rearing herself to full height like a cobra about to strike. "I know what you are trying to do. You think that he brainwashed me into joining him and you want to help free me from his coercion. Markus saved me when no one else would, and has extended me more courtesy and respect than anyone else can claim credit to. I have made my choice—for once—so I think you'd better save your breath, because no one can convince me to leave—not you, not Dr. Watson, and certainlynot my so-called brother!"
A thundering bang resounded through the corridor, as Stamford tore open a heavy door with strength fuelled by her boiling anger. "Get in," she hissed frostily, pointing harshly into the impenetrable darkness beyond the threshold. Intemperate fury seethed from her very figure as I passed her by for the second time that morning, but as our eyes met, I could faintly detect something within the depths of her unforgiving flint-like orbs that hinted at the faintest glimmer of inner conflict.
'So her resolve is not as unyielding as I had feared,' I mused with renewed optimism. Perhaps there was still hope yet.
