Moriarty's Musician

Monster in the Library, Part 3

Annabelle flung herself to her knees and gently lifted Nicholas's head. She gasped at his bloodied face as her eyes pooled with tears.

"Nicky? Nicky?" she whispered.

One blood-shot eye managed to open that hadn't quite closed from the beating. "Annabelle?" Nicholas said as he gulped down the blood spilling from his broken lip. "A-A-Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm alright, Nicky," she said, her voice trembling as she gently brushed back his hair clinging to the blood.

At her words, Nicholas lifted his head and tried to focus. "You're sure he didn't hurt you?"

As Moriarty watched Annabelle smooth the hair away from Nicholas's face, his mouth twisted in disgust. Enough. He grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her to her feet. He pulled her body into his, his face contorting in anger as he stared down into her swirling green eyes.

Annabelle could feel his warm breath against her cheek as his fingers bit into her skin. She had no doubt he was enraged, but a strange calm started filling her mind as she met his icy stare.

Moriarty inclined his head. He could see the fire lighting her eyes, but where was the fear? He watched her closely, intrigued by her tensing jaw and deepening frown. He could feel her shallow breathing as his hand positioned at the small of her back held her firm. His jealousy turned to amusement. . . and could it be. . . appreciation?

Her friend had been beaten to an inch of his life and rather than shudder in fear, she looked like she could rip him to shreds. My, she was glorious; more than he had ever hoped.

Perhaps he had misjudged her when she ran from him. He thought she was a coward, and it angered him that he had been wrong about her. But this was the true test now, wasn't it?

Annabelle pulled her arm out of Moriarty's grasp. Pushing away from his chest, she made a fist, and swung it at him, aiming for his smiling face. With a chuckle, he easily caught her hand in mid-air, and twisted her arm down behind her back, making her cry out in pain.

The interaction was not lost on Nicholas. As the blood continued to stream down his face from the wound on his forehead, Nicholas found his own fire. "Get your filthy hands off her!"

His hands were still bound but he managed to get to his feet and with his head down, launched himself towards Moriarty. But the two men were there in a flash, both grabbing hold of him before he could go any further.

Moriarty looked thoughtfully at Nicholas. This was indeed turning out to be a surprising day. He let go of Annabelle's arm and strolled over to the irritant who was struggling to escape the grip of his two henchmen. A slow smile rolled over Moriarty's mouth as he grabbed hold of a mass of Nicholas's hair and yanked his head back. Holding his head still, he stared deeply into his one opened eye.

"So you love her, do you? That's a shame. Because she's already taken," Moriarty's smile grew, "by me."

"You're a bastard," Nicholas seethed.

With his arms still constrained, Nicholas spat a mouthful of blood into Moriarty's face before his head swivelled to Annabelle. "Annie, run! Get out of here!"

But Annabelle didn't move. She would not leave Nicholas to the hands of this monster. Moriarty would surely kill him now. She had to do something or die trying.

Moriarty calmly fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his face as his gaze planted on Annabelle. Now, would she bolt or was she going to try to save her friend? He would have to make it harder for her to decide. She needed to know he was the one in charge.

Moriarty glanced at Sebastian the blonde giant. "Kill him."

"No, please!" Annabelle screamed.

She tried to think of what she could do to fight these men, but nothing came. The only thing she could think of was to appeal to the heart of the monster. Do monsters even have hearts? Surely not a soul, but perhaps she could find his heart.

"James," she whispered, "please don't kill him."

Moriarty was surprised to hear his given name from her lips. It moved him strangely. But why was she pleading for the little bastard's life? Did she love him? A sudden anger began seeping into him as he continued to study her but there was something else, a sensation he couldn't identify.

Annabelle took a deep breath and bid her feet to move. When she was standing in front of Moriarty, she reached out to touch his arm. "Please," she implored as she searched his deep brown eyes. "I'll do anything. Please just let him live."

Moriarty tilted his head. He wasn't sure he liked this side of her. . . begging. He much preferred the fire and animosity. She must love the worm for her to offer herself like this. His jaw stiffened. He'd have to see for sure. He nodded as a half-smile claimed his mouth.

"Fine."

"Fine?" Did she hear him right?

"Yes, but first I want you to kiss me," he said, his face unreadable.

"What? Kiss you?"