The Truth Behind Lies (attn: Bella, Mathew and Eliza)

(OOG:Continued from In Lies We Trust)

Jack was still waiting in front of the Sorrento when Bella returned to the hotel
later that morning. Raising a bushy eyebrow, he gave her that all knowing look,
the one that always seemed to reduce her to feeling like a mischievous six year old
again.

"Bella, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now? Why is he here?
This is North territory Bella. Do you hear me girl?" Looking up, Bella raised both hands in mock surrender “I know, Jack, I know…I’ll explain everything, I promise. But, right now…I have to figure things out.”

“ You’re playing with fire, Bee…pardon the pun.”

Her heart jumped at Jack's use of the nick name her brother had given her when they were kids. She studied the man a second longer before turning away to call the office. If she didn't know any better, she would swear Jack knew a lot more than
what he was letting on.

Bella cancelled everything on her calendar for the next few days, in hopes that would give her adequate time to come up with a solid plan. Next, she gave her assistant carte blanche to create whatever story she could come up with that might appease Bruce Damon as to his daughter's whereabouts. The last thing she had was the fortitude needed to deal with her dear daddy’s crap.

It was because of him she was in this predicament in the first place.

Dismissing a somber faced Jack several minutes later despite his protests,
Bella walked the short distance to the Kimball museum. She hadn’t missed Mathew’s exit from the hotel nor had she missed his carefully worded message. She’d been replaying his words over and over again all morning.
I can forgive; I'm sure it wasn't your fault.

Even though she knew it was entirely her fault, she felt like she owed the man some sort of explanation or at the very least a warning.

Arriving at her destination, Bella walked through the double doors,
the first thing she noticed was how quiet the Kimball was at this time of day.
The second thing was the peculiar odor, a blend of the ionized air and ancient antiquities that rested here.

Removing her coat, she walked deeper into the museum keeping an eye out for Mathew. She had no idea what she was going to say or just how much she would reveal to him. There was a lot at stake and it was imperative that she play both sides very very carefully.

The sound of her boot heels echoed loudly against the concrete as she made her farther down the hall. She stopped briefly in front of the exhibit for Inspirations of the West Coast, Arms and Armour, one of the newest exhibitions, somewhere she thought Mathew might find interesting.

With still no sign of the sorcerer, she continued on until eventually coming to the
end of the hall and the last exhibition ‘Mythology and Methodology’ where a
massive twelfth century bronze centaur stood sentinel over the deserted room.
Walking inside Bella took a few moments to admire the various Greek gods and goddesses, finally selecting a spot to wait in front of a Nicolas Régnier, c. 1626 painting of Pandora’s box. If they wanted privacy this was certainly an appropriate spot.

After thirty minutes and not another soul wandering in, she was convinced Mathew had decided not to wait after all. Turning to leave, Bella suddenly felt her lungs constrict as if all the air was being squeezed out of them until eventually the room went black.

His move had been a good one. Had he actually been waiting there for her he would have been caught off guard as well and probably just as helpless as she. As it happened, though, he had thought of a better plan. The centaur had been an excellent hiding spot; it was enormous, and he'd had no trouble hiding behind it. He hadn't even gotten his suit wrinkled.

He imagined that he must look ridiculous, a young man in a business suit and impenetrable sunglasses hiding behind a bronze centaur indoors. It was better than the alternative, lying unconscious in the middle of the museum floor. His plan seemed perfect, all variables accounted for. There was one, though, that wasn't as accounted for as he had thought.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! You were supposed to trip! He's on his way, I promise!" Eliza Hendrix bolted from her hiding spot and ran toward Bella's unconscious form. Mathew started to rush out from his hiding spot but hesitated long enough to think about Eliza's words. Cast the wrong spell? Was that possible? He was fairly sure it wasn't, and that meant there was someone else there. The urge to rush to his sister's side was even greater, but logic told him that it would only endanger both of them. Instead he peered out from his hiding place, scanning the shadows for some sign of anyone that might have done this.

It was a witch, or at most a very powerful sorcerer. He hoped for the former and that she was alone. He saw nothing, though. Nowhere. He frowned and began to slide out of his hiding place. He stopped in his tracks as footsteps sounded across the room. Eliza looked up from Bella's body at the approaching figure. Mathew had been right; it was a witch.

"Who are you?" Eliza demanded. The woman didn't speak but instead began to speak in a voice so soft that Mathew couldn't make out the words. He didn't need to, though, to know what she was doing. The horror on Eliza's face told him. He hurried from his hiding place and crept up behind the woman. He had to applaud Eliza for not locking her eyes on him or calling out to him. He raised his left arm to the woman's head and in one motion dove forward and wrapped his arm around her. They hit the floor, and Mathew's arm jammed into the woman's mouth. She bit down, but he didn't pull away. Instead he raised his other hand and motioned in the air with it. The woman struggled harder, but Mathew just held her tighter.

He brought his hand to her cheeks then rested it across her eyes. She screamed in pain, but Mathew held his ground. He felt her skin growing cold under him, and he closed his eyes and concentrated harder. The woman's screams climaxed, barely pausing long enough for her to take a ragged breath before starting again. He pressed against her eyelids as her arms clawed blindly, occasionally hitting Mathew's arms but mostly hitting empty air. Eliza watched in silence, horrified but too afraid to say anything. The woman's clawing began to slow, and finally her arms, along with the rest of her body, fell limp.

Mathew let her fall, and her head thunked against the ground as he stood up. Ice crystals covered the woman's face, and her open eyes were a dull blue-white, frozen solid.

"Is she...?" Mathew nodded slowly. Eliza squinted her eyes and clutched at Mathew's arm He moved between her and the dead woman then looked at Bella's form.

"She, on the other hand, is not. Help me get her to a seat."