Byzantium's Bane

Sam was grappling to try and understand the hold that Michael had over her. The emotional turmoil that he caused drained her of her energy. He made her furious ... and with one touch, he could render her breathless. Sam wrapped her arms around herself as she listened to him describing the power she had over him. She shook her head in denial ... how was this possible? He hated the power she had over him ... but it eclipsed the power Michael had over her. She did not say a word …

Michael turned and stared out of the window as her name crossed his lips. "Are you faithful? I mean, do you believe in the Divine? The All Mighty? Don't worry about the Church, and what it says. In your heart, Samantha Langley, do you believe?"

Sam’s brow furrowed at his question. She stared at the floor as her mind exploded in turmoil. Of all the questions ... he had to ask the one she had been wrestling with her entire life. Michael turned and took Sam’s hand, as he led her to the bed to sit beside him. The urgency in his mannerism scared her. Why did he want to know? What purpose did it serve?

The hair on the back of Sam’s neck stood on end as Michael whispered a melody. She could have sworn the room warmed at his softly spoken words. His words were pleading, "answer the question."

“I used to ...” Sam said in a small voice. Her eyes hardened as she stared into space, closing them against the memories that were flooding through her. “I turned my back on Him, the day He turned His back on me,” Sam said as she clenched her teeth ... she opened her icy blue depths, staring out in front of her with an almost clinical resolve.

Without warning, Michael leaned close pressing a soft kiss against her cheek before turning her slightly, his lips finding hers again. Instantly … Sam’s entire world tumbled into a blur as an electric current coursed through her body. Sam stiffened in his arms as a tortured moan escaped his lips. Her eyes flew open as she saw a mixture of pain and pleasure playing across his features while he kept his eyes closed.

As quickly as it started, Michael stopped … wordlessly rising to his feet and walking with accentuated difficulty to the door. "I... I had to, Sam. I don't know why, I just had to. So, I'll remove myself before... anything else happens that we will regret," he said, in a voice that made it sound like an apology. Sam was gaping like a fish as words eluded her. She jumped to her feet and reached the door as Michael closed it behind him. She stopped short, staring at it with widened eyes.

She took a few steps back and threw both her hands into her hair as she whirled around staring at the window. She walked around the bed and back again, her feet finding their way back to the door. Sam stood with one hand perched on her hip and the other in her hair as she agitatedly ruffled her fingers through her raven tresses.

What the hell?

I find him with his pants around his ankles wanting to screw a Mediterranean skank, then have him chase me down … demanding to know what I want from him. Then out of the blue, he yanks my world from under me with an earth-shattering kiss … only to tell me that I have control over him. He kisses me again … storms out … and then leaves before ‘anything else happens’.

Sam groaned out her frustration at the closed door. She paced around in a tight circle before she finally opened the door and walked to Michael’s room.

Sam barged through Michael’s door, stopping in the middle of the room. Her stormy blue depths were spitting a molten core of fury at him as she narrowed her eyes on him. “Michael Davingston, don’t you dare walk away from me!” She hissed at him through clenched teeth.

“Do you always run away from everything that proves to be remotely challenging? You have the nerve to storm into my room … demanding to know what I want from you?! Well guess what! It is your turn buddy. What the hell do you want from me Michael?” Sam said in an eerily controlled voice, her entire body shaking with anger.

Michael leapt up off the bed, his expression one of shock. "Run away from everything that proves to be remotely challenging? Here I am trying to do the right fucking thing, and you're getting bitchy with me?!? And what the hell do I want from you? I want to know what you're doing to me! No one … and I mean no one has had an impact on me as you have. You come out of nowhere, literally like a bolt out of the blue, knocking me flat on my ass. I can feel that you’re attracted to me and that it's not lust … it's something else. What I want to know from you; Is what you want from me?"

“I told you before I don’t want anything from you. Yet, you are dead set on confusing the living the shit out of me,” Sam said, vehemently trying to bring her temper under control. Her attempt proved to be futile.

“What the fuck is up with the Mediterranean skank?” Sam asked as her eyes tinted a shade darker. “You bet your ass I think you fucked her while I was out … what was I supposed to think, Michael? It is none of my goddamn business, but don’t then storm into my room and kiss me senseless … not after that!!” She screamed, her voice clambering through two octaves.

"Confusing you? Well you're confusing me too." Michael just looked at Sam with wide eyes before bursting into a hearty laughter. "Well, you got that right, she is a skank. More so than you may guess. And I'll tell you this much, I didn't fuck her."

"Prove it!" Sam screamed at him as she took a step closer, staring up at him furiously.

Without taking his eyes off her, he undid his pants, letting them drop around his ankles. He grasped her hand, and placed it on his bone-dry shaft. "There! I did not FUCK HER!"

Sam gasped in shock as she pulled her hand back. Her hand shot through the air landing an echoing slap across his cheek. She took a step back, her chest heaving. "How dare you!" She said absolutely stunned.

He glared at her. "You wanted proof, and I gave it to you. I have nothing to hide. In that regard anyway. But, why the fuck do you care? Why do you care if I am fucking some Mediterranean skank anyway?"

“Because …” Sam barked back, her breath coming in short angry gasps. “Because I’m jealous!” Sam screamed back as a barrage of conflicting emotions exploded on her features. “HAPPY?” She asked sarcastically. Sam flitted her hand agitatedly through her hair as she turned on her heel and started marching towards the door.

"You're jealous? But you don't want anything from me? So you said!" He kicked off the pants that hung around his ankles. He grabbed her arm before she reached the door and spun her around to face him.

"If you're jealous, Sam," he brought his face close to hers. Speaking softly, "what is it you want with me?"

Sam lifted her eyes from the floor, staring up at him with confusion warring in her blue depths in what felt like an eternity.

She nearly threw herself against him as she crushed her lips to him, letting them move hungrily across his with all the frustration and anger that was swirling in her mind, her body giving him the answer her mind could not comprehend.

Michael responded to the kiss instinctively, matching her passion. His body swayed under the impact, but he quickly steadied himself, his arms wrapping around her, pinning her to his body as he continued his oral assault on her mouth.

Her kisses were hard and laced with emotion as her hands frantically moved across his body as if she was starved of touching … of feeling. She raked her nails down his back as she pressed her body to him. Every instinct in Sam took control, her primal need reigning supreme over her body.

Michael's hands moved down, seeking the bottom edge of her top, to push through up underneath. His hands splayed on her back as they slowly, purposely rubbed across her skin from hips to shoulders. His mouth moved straight down to her neck, biting her firmly over the pulse point before continuing to taste the rest of her neck.

Sam rolled her head back, as Michael’s lips moved across her skin, trailing a scorching line of kisses down her neck. Her fingers roughly pulled and tugged at his shirt as she managed to push it up his torso. Her progress was halted … a quick glance revealed a cord tied around the neck of his shirt. Sam agitatedly pulled the entire cord out and then nearly ripped the shirt from his body as she pushed Michael onto the bed. Sam tore the clothes from her body before she climbed on the bed and straddled Michael. She laced the cord around his neck and pulled him up into a sitting position, before she wrapped her legs and arms around him … once again claiming his lips in a heated kiss.

His fear from the cord vanished as quickly as it appeared as one arm went back to hold him upright, as he duelled with her tongue in the midst of the kiss. His free arm sent a hand down the taut back until it reached her firm buttock. He slowly, deliberately lifted her, dragging her body against his. Letting her feel the length of him caught between them, the tip edging its way down her belly until it was free of the confines of the hot, prison cell of their combined bodies.

[OOC: This post was produced with the help of DarkEmpress.]

Their lips were dancing a heated tango as Sam moaned against Michael. Their naked bodies moving against each other … skin on skin … sending shivers down Sam’s spine. Her mind was trapped in a haze of euphoria as the entire world faded into the background. Michael’s body … his hands … his lips … the only thing in existence in this realm of passion and lust.

He positioned the tip of his engorged member at the gates of Sam’s velvet darkness … slowly lowering her body onto him. Sam’s body stretched and moulded itself around Michael, welcoming him into her warm and slick depths. She tore her lips from Michael, as she threw her head back … her hair tangling down her back, teasingly playing with Michael’s legs. A low groan escaped her lips at the overwhelming sensation, her breasts sliding down his chest in slow motion.

Michael continued to ease Sam onto himself, enraptured by the encroaching wave of hot flesh. The feel of her glistening skin sliding down his shaft brought forth a moaned sigh, before he took her proffered throat into his mouth again. He kissed, licked and bit while she settled finally on him. He slowly rolled his upper torso, brushing her breasts against his chest, delighting in the irritating scratching of the rock hard points against his skin.

Sam lifted her head. Her eyes smouldering pools of blue fire … melting in the storm of his embrace. She claimed his lips again as she moved her body against Michael, her hips grinding against his. A gasp of pure ecstasy escaped her lips as her eyes darkened. Sam’s hands were gliding across Michael’s back, her body … their breathing … the movement thrumming out a forbidden beat of pleasure, as pure need burned in her eyes.

Michael rolled his hips in time with Sam's, pushing himself deeper whenever she thrust herself down. Her body gripped him in ways that he had never felt before. His body shuddered from the feel of her when he thrust into her. Her hand sliding across awakened feelings in him he had not felt in many, many years. A desire for a woman that was not driven purely by lust.

His free hand gripped the back of her neck, drawing her away from his body, allowing him to bend down and take one of her breasts in his mouth. His lips, tongue and teeth worked the hot orb of flesh. He murmured sounds of delight around his flesh stoppered mouth as he sucked, licked, bit and otherwise enjoyed Sam's breast.

Sam closed her eyes, the incredible feeling sending waves of scorching hot passion washing through every fibre in her body. It felt as if Sam was suspended in mid-air, her body and senses being offered to the gods of forbidden pleasure. Sam leaned back against Michael’s arm, her hands holding on to his shoulders as she kept the earth shattering pace going … her back arching to meet every thrust. She could feel him moving inside her, the insatiable need slowly pushing her closer to the edge of a soul-shattering precipice.

His heritage allowed him to feel how her body responded to their fucking. He could feel her approaching her peak, he changed his action to lift himself, and Sam, off the bed, drop his hips, then thrust up as Sam was drawn down by Gravity's unstoppable grasp.

He pounded into her, shaking her entire body with each hard impact of their hips. He groaned with each lift, starting as he thrust himself into her wanton body, before rising it towards the heavens again.

The force reverberated through her mind as her haggard breathing rasped across her lips. She could feel the little butterflies milling in the core of her being as they suddenly exploded … crashing through her body in an earth shattering crescendo. Sam’s entire body stiffened and shuddered against Michael as her sex pulsated around his proud member in wave after wave of blinding ecstasy. Her nails were digging into Michael’s flesh as she gasped for air … her mind not allowing her to surface.

His body was crying out in equal measures of pain and pleasure by the time Sam's grip on him tightened in response to her release. He let them both drop back to the bed, letting his body physically rejoice, adding his own fluids to hers to warm her core further. Her nails digging into his flesh added a chorus of sharp sensations to counterpoint the pleasure that washed over him. Both his arms wrapped around Sam, drawing her into a fiery kiss as they both fell back on the bed.

They both lay absolutely still … just letting their lips do the talking. Sam’s body was glistening with heated perspiration as she lay in Michael’s arms, her body shaking as little tendrils of electricity sporadically jumped through her nervous system. She slowly pulled her lips from Michael and opened her eyes to stare into his dark depths with an expression that hovered between wonder and contentment. She gently ran a fingertip along his cheek in a soft caress, her eyes following the slow progress before she reached his lips, letting her finger idly circle around them. Her eyes swirled with gentle desire as she placed a soft kiss there before looking up at him again.

Michael's eyes drank in the sight of Sam's contented expression. He had never had a woman that was content to lie with him after fucking her. That Sam was willing to do that, and place kisses on him as she had, left him confused and slightly dazed.

"So... what was that about? It was more than just sex … that much I can tell."

Sam dropped her head against Michael's shoulder as soft melodic laughter filled the air. She slowly lifted her head and looked into Michael's depths with smiling eyes. "Could you be content, to just let it be?" She asked softly.

(OOC: The past two posts were the result of a marathon IM session in which we threw everything we had at each other. We hope you enjoyed it)

Michael laid on the bed, warmly blanketed by Sam. He felt comfortable with her staying close. Every other partner was sent away or he left once he had his pleasure with them. There was a part of him that urged him he send her away, to not enjoy the connection, or bond that seemed to be building. Women were there to serve his pleasure, nothing more. That was what his Father had taught him.

And that was all the more reason to ignore the urge, the habit, the desire to send her away. He would make a choice of his own, rather than have the decision forced upon him. He never was given the Choice like everyone else, so he made damned sure that he was going to make his own choices.

"OK. I'll be content with what is. I wont ask you any more questions." Michael shifted his right leg, almost using his entire body to help lift the lame leg. He managed to move it a few inches, which also made his leg feel more comfortable. Once he was more settled, he looked up at Sam again. He found himself gazing at her face, enjoying what he saw. The fact that he was doing that started to confuse him.

Sam started to look away from Michael's intense stare. She started to move about, which started to remind his body of their earlier activity. She snapped a look at him, her eyes a little wide.

"Dinner! I'm starving. I'm sure you're starving too." Sam leapt out of the bed, grabbing her clothing as she rapidly walked out of the room, the door closing behind her from the airwaves of her passage.

Michael remained on the bed, the fragrance of fresh sex soothing him. He had never drawn as much pleasure from another woman as he had from Samantha. Not even those women who trained, knew what he liked, even watched didn't come near this stranger who he met purely by chance.

"Damn it," he softly snarled. "This screams of a setup." His eyes narrowed as his breathing deepened. "But who, and to what end. It's not Father's style, too subtle. Zerph... he could, but he had little to gain from it, regardless of what 'it' was. Cal... she would try something like this just to piss off Father.

"I have fuck all to work from. Samantha... draws me to her like no one else. I fucked her and all I wanted to do was lie there with her. Anyone else I would have kicked her from the bed, or fucked her a few more times before kicking her out. But I didn't. There's got to be something about her that will tell me what I fucking well need to know!"

He sat himself up, the agitation reaching a point where he needed to walk it off. A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts. "Michael? Dinner's ready." He heard her loiter for a few seconds before walking away. At the mention of food, his stomach growled loudly. He dragged his clothing over and dressed himself.

He lurched out of his room, heading out to the kitchen-dining area. The smell of the food only added to the hunger pangs. He sat at the table where a bowl of pasta was waiting for him. He took a look at Sam. Without waiting, he took a forkful of the food. His face took on a surprised expression.

"Not bad. Good actually. Come on, sit down and eat. I'm not going to bite." The fork stopped just before his mouth. "Unless you want me to." He grinned, putting the loaded fork into his mouth.

Sam was still pulling her tracksuit top on when she entered the kitchen. Walking straight into the opposite counter, she rested her head against the cupboard mounted on the wall. Closing her eyes … she took a deep breath and nibbled nervously on her bottom lip.

What are you doing, have you lost your mind? Her thoughts hissed at her.

She honestly had no clue. She had never acted so irrational in her entire life. It felt as if Michael had taken her life and turned it upside down in the space of two days … just two short days! Having major issues with trust … Sam seemingly had no qualms in throwing caution to the wind for someone that appeared to be an astute master of deception.

In an attempt to avoid the irrational, Sam set to work preparing dinner. No stranger to cooking, her hands easily found their way around the kitchen. Half an hour later, the delicious flavour of chicken Alfredo wafted through the apartment. Sam set the table and dished a generous helping for Michael before walking to his door.

She hesitated for a moment, contemplating entering … deciding to knock instead. "Michael? Dinner's ready,” she said waiting for a moment. Realising what she was doing, she rolled her eyes at herself and then walked back to the kitchen where she was trying to decide between a bottle of wine or soda. Not sure which to choose, Sam placed both on the table with a jug of water, pouring a glass for herself.

She watched as Michael came careening out of his room nearly attacking the food. Sam had to stifle a smile. "Not bad. Good actually. Come on, sit down and eat. I'm not going to bite,” Michael said as he stuffed a fork full of food in his mouth. The next fork loaded with pasta stopped mid-bite, before he added teasingly, "Unless you want me to."

Soft laughter filled the air as Sam took her seat, watching Michael’s wolfish progress across his plate. “I think I’ll pass,” she said, as she took a bite herself, moaning appreciatively at it. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was.

Light and teasing conversation lilted through the apartment during the rest of dinner. Sam was quite relieved that Michael had stopped his relentless questioning … for the time being. She actually enjoyed his company, when he wasn’t demanding to know what she 'wanted from him'.

The next day was spent in quiet contemplation. They managed to make a trip to the shops to buy Michael a few things that he needed ... Sam insisted despite his protests. It turned out to be fun. Once back at the apartment, she tried to steer clear of Michael, giving herself some space. Every time she saw him they seemed to bump into each other … not knowing which one will go which way, they would invariably land up bumping each other again. She felt like a nervous teenager unable to think every time Michael was near. It was bizarre!

That night, Sam lay staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of everything. Images of the riot were flashing through her mind. Sam slowed everything down, trying to remember how it all happened. The memory of Michael walking into the room … the feeling of … she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. She felt Michael, before she saw him … How? Sam opened her eyes again, as her brow furrowed into a perplexed frown. The moment she first saw him, she had the unerring desire to tear her clothes from her body and to throw herself at Michael … and she had never laid eyes on him before.

What happened last night, was nothing remotely like that … it was fuelled by passion. Sam smiled wryly at the word … he certainly managed to lure a great deal of ‘passionate’ fury and lust from her. Every emotion she felt towards Michael, was amplified for some reason. Sam was at a loss as to why that would be. It was as if there was some unearthly … or invisible bond between them. Something deep inside Sam stirred nervously at the thought.

She finally disappeared into the land of slumber in the early hours of the morning, after dissecting every possible theory, reaching no new or enlightening conclusions.

Awaking the next morning, Sam felt tired and groggy. The prospect of having to face the memorial service added a cloud to her frayed senses. She was patiently waiting in the living room for Michael, respectfully dressed in black slacks and a matching jacket with a light blue button-up shirt adding a bit of colour to a very stark outfit. She was loathing the prospect of questions and wondering eyes following her around, much less people’s contempt at her obvious lack of conforming to the norms.

Sam sighed dejectedly.

Michael had woken on the morning of the Memorial full of nerves. While it was true that no roofs had ever collapsed on his entry to a place dedicated to the Almighty, there were times when it felt like his insides were going to be turned into mush from the pressure.

He attired himself completely in black, and steeled himself for what was to come. He had no reason to really be there, but he want to be there with Sam. He slumped when he thought that.

"Why? Why do I want to enter His house? Just because she is going to be there?" He shook his head, continuing to dress himself. He knew from the moment people saw the shape of his right leg, the old superstitions would come to the fore.

The previous day's shopping outing was interesting to say the least. Two new pairs of pants were being modified to fit his leg, and the remainder of his purchases were fairly straight forward. That she went as far as insisting on paying for it all too made him even more uncomfortable. He had more than enough funds to cover anything he needed. He didn't want her to pay for anything. In the end it was just easier to let her do it rather than fight it.

Then, for the remainder of the day, she would walk into him. Bump him with the fullness of her body. He would be left the lingering touch, and scent of her afterward, driving his thoughts to one topic, and that one memory. It had got so bad that he thought to himself that one more such collision would find them on the floor and colliding in a far more fun way. Of course, with that thought, there were no more such collisions.

He slept well, even with the prospect of dealing with a Church looming in front of him. Not even that could disturb his sleep anymore, since dealing with his Father was a far more trying experience than dealing with a mere Church.

So, when he wandered out to meet up with Sam, he was internally armed and armoured to the hilt. Sam, on the other hand looked like she was at the end of a month long campaign. He looked her over, wondering how she would stand up to the scrutiny she was going to be subjected to. He quickly dismissed the thought. It was not his problem.

"Samantha, it's time for us to go. The car will be arriving soon, if it's not already there."

The two of them walked slowly, and with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. They were exiting the front door when the car arrived to pick them up. Once more, Andrew was quick to open the doors, helping Sam and Michael get into the car. The car ride was conducted in complete silence as they approached the Temple of the Byzantine Church.

The car stopped, allowing them to alight outside the front door to the Mosque like structure. Already, a substantial gathering of people in corporate attire, those not in black wore sack cloth about their arms. Michael knew they were the centre of attention the moment they saw Sam's unveiled face. Without thinking, he offer his arm to her, and led her to the entrance to the Temple. He easily ignored the stares leveled at them, knowing that he walk was getting some of the attention too.

By the time they reached the doorway, Michael was sweating and his eyes had hardened, staring into the gloom. His heart was hammering in his chest as he paused for a moment before entering. With a loud swallow, he took the final step into the cool dimness of the Temple dedicated to the Almighty.

The moment Sam stepped out of the car, she could feel eyes burning into her flesh. Everywhere she looked she saw judgement in their eyes. Sam bravely lifted her chin staring them down defiantly. She was not from around here. She didn’t need to conform to their ridiculous religious socialist norms if she was not even part of the religion in any way, shape or form. She was here to pay her respects to her colleagues that lost their lives in the tragic events of Monday ... she wasn’t here for a personal trial and condemnation from these narrow-minded people simply because she chose to be an individual. The rebellious side of Sam came to the front, as she straightened her shoulders ... dishing out a liberal helping of death stares.

She felt Michael take her arm in his and she desperately placed her hand over his, trying to draw strength from the small gesture. She could almost feel the nervousness radiating from Michael. Sam stole a glance at him from under her lashes and noted the sheen of perspiration resting on his brow ... the pulse in his neck throbbing at a frantic pace.

“We’ll be okay,” Sam whispered under her breath ... not believing herself.

As soon as they entered the temple, Sam noted the pews of suits that could only be from Peterson & Associates. A noticeable murmur erupted from the seated people as Sam and Michael made their way down the isle to find two open seats near the front. Sam felt like a show horse on parade as people pointed and whispered at her.

The indignation was systematically being replaced by something ... much worse. Sam stared transfixed at the stained glass window that stretched across the entire wall behind the podium. Images of a cross, cherubs and doves along with a host of other biblical symbols eerily glistened in the sunlight that filtered through from the mid-morning sun.

Sam had not set foot in a church in over 10 years. The solemn air that permeated through the building felt as if it was suffocating her ... bringing back a string of memories she thought she had buried a long time ago. Somewhere in the background, she could hear the sermon commence ... her mind was however trapped somewhere far away ... a cold grey day so many years ago. Sam clutched her eyes shut as she bit down on her bottom lip, her chin trembling as she tried to stop the flood of pain. Her fingers were digging into the wooden arm of the pew as a very vivid set of images flashed across her thoughts, slamming into Sam with an overwhelming intensity.

Three coffins laden with flowers ... people milling around Sam as she stared with dead eyes at the ground that devoured their remains. The rain coloured the sky grey ...

A small little anguished moan bubbled to Sam’s lips as she abruptly climbed to her feet. She had slid her sunglasses over her eyes trying to hide the tears that were streaking down her cheeks as she nearly fled out of the church, turning her back on the cross that was beckoning her to stay. Like that day so many years ago ... Sam vowed never to return again.

Marching through the doors, not noting Andrew’s surprised expression; She walked past the car and blindly into the streets. Her black-clad form stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd as people parted around her, staring and making comments.

Sam’s sanity was absent as she kept walking like a robot, picking up the pace until she was running down the streets. She had no idea where she was going and losing track of time she finally found the park she had walked in two days before. She was as white as a sheet and her eyes looked haunted. Sam absently took her shoes off as she stepped onto the textured grass with her bare feet, desperately trying to connect to something that was real ... something that could ground her.

She sank down to the floor and buried her hands in the grass, running them up and down besides her as she stared into space ... completely surrounded by shrubs and a beautiful Jacaranda tree that towered above her ... carpeting the green lawn in a purple blanket.

The cool, dimly lit interior of the Temple rebelled at the intrusion of Michael Davingston. He clenched his jaws tightly as the pressure built within him, reaching almost crushing levels of intensity. With that pressure was added a heat worse than an oven. He felt himself starting to sweat more profusely as his body tried to cool itself down. But the dimness turned nearly pitch black, obscuring everything from his vision.

He could feel the presence of the Almighty resonating within the walls. This place was one were Believers came to worship, to feel the touch of the Almighty. With their belief, the Almighty left a gift for them.

Michael was scared, bordering on terrified by the time he sat in the pew beside Samantha. He was experiencing excruciating pain as the congregation started reciting passages of the Holy Text, singing praises to the Almighty. He wanted to roar with the pain, afraid that too deep a breath would sear his lungs. He drew strength and reassurance from Samantha. He walked in with her, he would walk out with her.

'Father, you fucking stupid prick, what in Shaitan's name did you have to do that? You just had to think with your fucking dick, didn't you? I hope you are suffering you useless shit.

'What the fuck...'

Michael became aware that Samantha had stood up and left. The wave of nausea was so strong he swallowed some of what he had last eaten rather than spill it on the floor. Sweat ran like a rivers down his face and neck. He would not run. He was there, in that place, at his choice. His choice. HIS.

The service neared the end, and the communion was being accepted by those present prior to their departure. Through his near blindness, he would see the Iman giving each some of the flesh of the Prophet Jesus, as well as a sip of his blood. Michael was trembling, knowing he had to front the Iman, and accept the communion. He slowly rose, his right leg dragging behind him like it was made of lead. Michael moved to the holy man, who was going to move to Michael until Michael waved him off. He finally reached the place, and readied himself for the communion.

A wafer of lamb, from a specially bred beast, and blessed in the name of the Almighty was placed on Michael's tongue. As the meat burned his tongue, he draw it back into his mouth, chewing the scalding meat before swallowing it. When it reached his stomach, it felt like it exploded, lancing him with sharp pains. The sip of the mixture of lamb's blood and wine burned his mouth like acid, scorching and tearing at his throat until it was diluted in the ashen remains of the meat in his stomach.

Michael turned, not letting the Iman or his assistants see the tears rolling down his cheeks from the agony he subjected himself to. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. The blinding light of day that would deliver him from the crushing, burning, hateful environment that crippled him, scalded him and sought his death.

The air outside slammed into Michael like a wall of ice. His skin almost turned blue as the goosebumps covered him from crown to toes. Several people came over to offer their sympathies and condolences to him, trying to relieve his suffering by telling him that those lost were now in the hands of the Almighty. He nodded to their unheard words, concentrating on not screaming at the residual pain he carried from the Temple.

"Andrew," he whispered, clenching his eyes closed, fighting the urge to vomit. "Take me back to Samantha's place."

"Of course, Sir." He helped Michael into the car, not wasting anytime before getting moving.

"Forgive me, Sir, but how bad are you? Do you need any help? Shall I call for the Gifted?"

"NO!" Michael's eyes widened, his face loosing colour. "No. If anything, the Gifted would make it worse, not better. I need some time, that is all." He settled back, his colour returning as the various pains within began to dull. "Did you pass on word?"

"Yes, Sir. But I was not believed."

"Of course not. You are not worthy enough to be contacted by me. But the fact that you made such a claim should have had them contact me by now. Will they be gathering at the appointed time?"

"Yes, Sir. As we have been instructed, we will be gathering to honour our Patronus."

"Good. It's time I returned to remind people who I am, and why I should not be forgotten."

"Yes, Sir."

Michael needed the assistance of the doorman to get to Samantha's apartment. Once through the door, he staggered to the bathroom, and finally vomited. Blood and worse splashed into the sink, more than he had consumed. He washed out his mouth, feeling better for the removal of the deadly substances within his stomach. He fetched a bottle of milk, and sat down on one of the sofas, drinking the soothing liquid.

Once finished, he laid his head back, crying out the pain from his time in the Temple. The pain of his abused body and of his abused soul. Michael passed out as the last tears dried on the skin of his cheeks.

Sam climbed to her feet and stood staring up at the sky, the afternoon sun streaking through the branches. It shone off Sam’s eyes, turning them into shimmering pools that looked almost translucent in colour. She was firmly in control again, her emotions carefully tucked away as she crossed the street heading for the apartment block.

The doorman eyed Sam with a worried look. She probably looked much worse than she felt. “Are you okay Miss?” he asked politely.
“I am fine,” Sam said, giving him a reassuring smile.

The doorman paced around nervously, ready to offer a hand in case Sam lost her footing. She gave him an amused little smile. “How many people have fallen apart on you today?” She asked conversationally.

“Oh, there was Mrs Daniels from the second floor that nearly tripped over her Chihuahua.” Sam had to stifle a laugh at the mental picture. The lady in question was short and plump in stature and firmly believed that a beehive hairstyle was still the ‘in thing’. The addition of a ‘rat’ on a leash made Sam’s shoulders shake with mirth. The doorman tried to hide his own laughter, taking a shining to the Miss with the friendly eyes.

“The other, was this tall man with dark hair and dark eyes. It took both myself and his driver to get him …” his words died on his lips as he saw Sam’s smile slowly turn into panic. She stormed into the building pressing every elevator button she could find. The few seconds that it took for a door to open felt like an eternity. She pressed the button for the thirteenth floor and stood staring at the numbers on the panel while her heart thudded out a frightened little beat.

What if it was Michael … he is the only one that has a driver in this building!

Sam, you are imagining it … everything is probably fine, the thoughts crashed around in her mind … the numbers on the dial passing … too … slowly!

The door finally opened with a loud ‘ting’ echoing through the small square elevator. Sam ran down the hallway, her hands shaking as she tried to unlock the door.

“Michael!” Her voice called through the apartment as she finally pried the door open. “Michael, where are …” she froze, as she saw him slumped back in a chair. His features dangerously pale. Sam dropped everything, leaving the door wide open as she ran to his side ... a milk carton lay on the floor, the milk spilt all over the tiles. Her hands instinctively trailed across his face, the tear tracks stained across them. He was burning up! “Michael?” She whispered with trembling lips close to his ear.

He was not responding … no movement. She placed her fingers in the little hollow on his neck; trying to find a pulse … it was barely there. Sam straightened her shoulders, milling around in the spot as her eyes blurred, not knowing what to do. Her eyes latched onto the bathroom and she dove down the hallway. Finding a facecloth, she walked to soak it … only to find something covered in blood stuck in the drain. “Oh god,” she whispered, as she frantically opened the tap on full blast, trying to force it down.

A few moments later, she appeared at Michael’s side, gently towelling his clammy face down with the soaking wet facecloth. “Michael, can you hear me?” Her voice pleaded incessantly. She had to get help. He was completely unresponsive and Sam could never move him on her own.

She fished her mobile from her bag and dialled the emergency number … keeping her eyes riveted on Michael's eerily still form.

Michael's eyes started to flutter, the voice carrying from far away. A woman's voice speaking his name. The pain returned with a vengeance, allowing a groan to gurgle and slither from his torn throat. "S...Sam...?"

The phone call forgotten … Sam made her way back to his side. Her fingertips gently moved across his features. “Michael?” She said softly close to his ear. “Are you okay? What is wrong? Tell me how I can make this better,” she nearly pleaded, worry at his pallor and relief at the fact that he was awake, mingling in her voice.

A weak smile formed as his eyes opened enough to focus on Sam's face. Her touch seemed to cool his fevered skin. "How to make better...? No doctors. Need... to be in my... room. Alone. I'm... I'm far from OK. What's wrong? The Temple didn't like me being there, and was trying to convince me to fuck off."

Sam’s brow furrowed into a frown as she stared into Michael’s feverish eyes with a perplexed expression. “The Temple was convincing you to …?” She echoed in an incredulous voice. He is delirious; the thought crossed her mind, which only heightened her apprehension.

“Come, Michael,” she said softly as she tried to position herself under his arm, helping him get to his feet.

"Yes, but I am a stubborn prick at times. I walked in there, under my own steam. I was going to leave when I fucking well wanted to leave. Not one moment before..." He slumped against Sam as he slowly lurched to the room she had given him.

Sam’s hand shot up to his brow, his scalding skin burning against her fingertips. He was not making any sense … It was the ramblings of a very sick man. “Okay Michael,” she cooed in a soft voice, as it took every ounce of energy she had to try and keep Michael upright, as they slowly made their way to his room.

"Sorry about the messes. I'll... I'll... oh fuck it. I need to lie down." He stood up straight, his face going pale. "Can you bring in a chair from the dining room please. Once I'm in my room."

“Don’t worry about the mess,” she said with a slight sound of humour touching her voice, before she helped Michael lie down on the bed. He looked white as a sheet. Sam’s hands flitted across him worriedly as she tried to make him comfortable, propping a pillow behind his head. She was not too sure, whether to take his request for a chair serious.

Michael laboured to sit up, gritting his teeth in pain. "Please, fetch the chair. I... need... it. Now!"

“Okay … okay,” Sam said as she nearly ran out of the room. Picking up a chair she walked back, and placed it next to the bed.

"Thank you, Sam." Michael used the chair to stand up, and he led Sam from the room. "I need some time alone now." He kissed Sam's cheek before ushering her through the door, closing it behind him. With the last shreds of his rapidly waning strength, he wedged it under the door.

As he made his way back to the bed, he let his concentration drop, and his true heritage come to the fore. As if a burden was finally released, he collapsed to the floor.
___________________________________________
OOC: This post was a joint effort between DarkEmpress and myself.

Images from the first night that Michael lay beaten and bruised at her feet shot through Sam’s mind. He had his bag with him in the room and Sam was convinced that he would probably drink something from one of his mysterious bottles that would rectify his pain. She shuddered at the memory, and for the umpteenth time pondered how that had worked.

Sam needed something to keep her mind occupied. She pushed away from the door with the intention of cleaning up the mess in the lounge.

She froze …

… Dead in her tracks.

Something quaked through the apartment, ripping a small whimper from Sam’s throat to hum on her lips as she closed her eyes. The energy pulsed around her, through her entire being … sending Sam crashing against the door in a thud as her legs turned to jelly. Her hands shot out to the doorframe, holding on for dear life as her body erupted into a seething molten lava pool of lust … pure and unadulterated lust.

Writhing against the door, Sam threw her head back and groaned out her arousal. Her mind went completely numb, the only thing pulsing through her being was this insatiable need for … for … Michael!

Sam nearly tore her jacket from her body and threw it across the room. She ran her hands, palm down across her thighs, slowly smoothing across her abdomen. They slowly made their way up her torso before she raked them across her breasts bringing her arms in tightly around herself to crush them up against her body … her chest heaving as her breath came in short gasps. One hand moved into her hair, swirling around her head … leaving her raven tresses in a glorious mess around her shoulders. The other undid the buttons of her sky-blue blouse … silk flitting through her fingertips … slowly revealing little teases of her soft pale skin …

Sam’s body slid down against the door … the wooden surface scraping across the length of her form as she collapsed to her knees; legs spread wide … leaning back against the door for support as she thrashed her head from side to side. The buttons finally undone, Sam’s hand slid lower … undoing the top button of her tailored trousers to slip between her thighs, her fingers delving into the sopping wet folds of her wanton sex … aching for a release. Her fingers more than capable of enticing a climax of earth shattering proportions in record time.

“Michael …” his name siphoned from her lips in a breathless whisper, leaving her lips parted. Sam opened her eyes in little slithers … glazed blue depths staring into space … lust smouldering in them. The colour taking on a slightly darker hue … evidence of the typhoon of emotions that Sam was drowning in. She thrust her hips against her hand as her tongue flicked across her lips.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, Sam bit down hard to stifle a scream … before she let it go. Her swollen and red lips parted as her breath hissed across them. Her body moved of its own accord like a belly dancer, weaving a spell of seduction on an invisible audience. Her free hand found its way to one of her nipples … tugging and pinching roughly at it as Sam’s body erupted in a sheen of perspiration, glistening on her skin.

With the precision that only a woman could know, she swirled her thumb around her clit before slamming her palm down hard on it … her fingers pressing into her G-spot sending Sam free falling over the edge of ecstasy as she screamed out Michael’s name … riding out the tremors that threatened to unearth Sam’s hold on reality.

The newly released seething morass that he reluctantly called his soul reconnected with his tortured body, bringing back the harmony that exists between the mortal shell and the soul. When such a harmony is achieved, the body is capable of amazing feats of restoration. Even bordering on the dim realms of sleep, he could feel his body commence repairing the worst of the damage inflicted upon him by the Earthly vessels of the Almighty.

But as his body worked to correct the inconsistencies brought by wounds and injuries, his soul resonated to the obsidian strains of the one time Celestial Song, raising its voice to join the chorus. To his own disgust, Michael felt the joy from the Song, one he could barely hear, but knew all too well.

His eyes snapped open when another took up the Song, her body stirring to the slow rolling crescendo. He heard her body slam into the door as everything that was not essential to the dance was forgotten. He could feel every nuance of her actions though he could not see her. He smiled, delighting in the strength of her response to the Song.

The air filled with the irresistible perfume that had him rolling on his stomach before he was even aware of the fragrance. His mind, body and soul screamed out to drink the wine from which the delicious bouquet came from, to feast on delicate meal basted in the wine before partaking in the oldest dance. Michael's mouth was watering at the prospect of such a banquet.

He moaned as his arms lifted his shoulders of the floor. The door, and the chair that held it closed were now his main focus of his thoughts. Though the word was whispered, his ears clearly heard the siren's call. “Michael …” As if he was a marionette, he found himself on all fours, bent in half, rocking violently from the exertions of the move. He straightened, wavering like a sapling in a gale. He could feel the sweat from his exertions covering his body as he brought it under control.

Michael's salvation was only a few steps away. He would rejoice in his heritage, reclaim what was his birthright, baptizing in the waters fresh from the font itself. The very altar where this ceremony would take place was mere paces away, prepared and readied for him.

The screaming of his name dragged him to the door. He threw the chair aside as if it were a sheet of paper. His sweat drenched hands slipped on the door knob as he tried to open the door. Grimacing, he violently struggled with the door, trying to rip it out of the frame. His meager reserves of strength were fading when he realized what was happening.

"Noooooo!!!!!!" He turned his back on the door before he slumped against it. He rallied his strength, pushing back the writhing viscous lump back into the pit where it had been imprisoned. The malignant caress of the Song was gone. Michael held the reins once more.

"Samantha? Samantha?!? You... You need to go out for a few hours. Please, Sam... just go and see a movie. Something, anything." Michael lurched back to his bed, collapsing on it as he finally locked away his birthright.

Sam’s chest was heaving as she leaned back against the door. Her breathing came in fast gasps as she clutched her eyes closed … her heartbeat throbbing in her head as she desperately tried to pull herself back down to earth.

She had heard Michael’s body slide along the door … she could sense him sitting there. So close and yet so far. For a moment tears brimmed her eyes as confusion raced through her mind. What is going on? The question screamed through her mind. She had never in her entire life had such a strong reaction to any man, much less act like a wanton sex starved little girl who would please herself with abandon outside his bedroom door.

Sam wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand as she pushed herself away from the door. "Samantha? Samantha?!? You... You need to go out for a few hours. Please, Sam... just go and see a movie. Something, anything." She heard his plea. His words cutting through her soul like a hot knife through butter. She closed her eyes, letting the humiliation and rejection wash over her before she opened them again … her blue depths as cold as ice.

She pushed herself up from the floor and pulled her clothes back in place before she walked to her bedroom. For a moment Sam stared out of the window … not seeing anything. She had no idea what to do, she certainly did not have the strength to try, and figure out what was going on. Everything about Michael was confusing. The power he had over her, the strange erratic way in which her body reacted to him … the way she felt whenever she was near him. It was too much.

She slowly looked around the room that felt as foreign to her as this place did … foreign, and cold. With sudden determination, Sam grabbed her handbag and walked out of the apartment. She made her way down the corridor to the lift, through the lobby and joined the milling afternoon crowd, aimlessly walking through the streets. She had a great deal to think about.

She walked into a little coffee shop and ordered herself a Caffe Latte. She stared blindly at the floor, angrily scolding herself for getting herself into this mess. She never should have taken the position at Peterson & Associates to begin with. Every single instinct of hers rebelled against the decision … she should have listened to her sixth sense.

What exactly was the issue with Michael? She barely knew him … and yet the reactions he seemingly conjured from her like a masterful puppeteer irked her … and excited her … all at once.

Sam shook her head in disbelief … it was impossible. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Michael as she possibly could. Whatever this was … was … was what exactly? Unnatural seemed to be a good description … bizarre even. She had never had to deal with conflicting emotions that seemed to launch a full-scale war to rage against themselves in her mind … and yet … she could not put him out of her mind.

She sipped her coffee, pondering the fathom of innuendos that seemed to surround Michael. When she finally pulled herself from her thoughts, the sun was lying low on the horizon. She slowly made her way back to the apartment and into her room. She locked the door behind her and sank down on the bed. Not bothering to undress, Sam fell into a dreamless sleep. Her mind too tired to think anymore …

His ears strained for the sounds of movement. He heard her stand, and move away from the door. He wasn't sure but he thought he heard her enter her bedroom. Sweat ran down his face as he struggled with his true nature wanting to reclaim control, or prominence.

More movement! She left her room, sounds getting softer, then a door closed roughly and hard. She was gone. He relaxed his control, feeling the cool immersion as the part of his soul he loathed restored itself. He felt the desire to stand, and drag Sam back to enjoy the lushness of her body, to delight in her screams of pleasure and pain as he enjoyed her as he knew he should. He knew deep down that her soul cried out to be touched again, to bring her back into the intense pleasure that her body could generate. To loose herself in one of the greatest gifts bestowed on the mortals by the Almighty.

But Michael controlled the temptations. He needed to lie down and heal before he could indulge. If he was to try now, it would kill him, or leave him weak enough to be easily killed. His eyes closed as he saw in his mind the black amorphous blob reaching out to his corporeal shell pushing bits back into place, and filling the gaps in the ruptured flesh. He could feel the changes as they happened, feeling the body restoring itself to the way it was meant to be.

It took an hour for the damage to be repaired to a level he could not feel anything else wrong with him. He slowly restored his control over his birthright, caging it up once more, and allowing him to think clearly rather than with his dick.

Samantha. If there was one thing that he found himself in agreement with his darker side, he wanted Samantha. Their one time together had whet his appetite for her. He wanted to share the bounties of her body with her, to bring her pleasure, as she brought it to him. But he was not going to just take it from her. For some reason, he knew that he was not meant to do that. It was tied in to why he was drawn to her. He thumped the mattress with balled fist.

"Who? Which one of you interfering, contemptuous bastards is doing this? Why can't you stay back and let things go as He wants them to? Haven't you lot fucked up my life enough already? And you... GRANDFATHER, why? WHY DID YOU DO IT?!? Oh... Fuck the lot of you. Just fucking leave me alone, and let me do what I can with my life. I'm sick of you pricks meddling..."

Exhaustion finally claimed him, and he fell asleep, banishing the thoughts of his family, replacing them with the memories of Samantha. What he saw of her, what she she said, how she felt when he touched her, how she smelt and tasted. Other things came to his mind as he drifted into sleep, things he never remembered on awakening.


Michael woke up hungry. Starving. Sore. With a groan he rolled himself out of bed, seeing he had not changed from the day before. He staggered out of the bedroom to the smell of rancid milk. He remembered drinking some coming back from the service, but little else. Michael found some paper towel, and cleaned up the worst of it before he rummaged through the kitchen looking for food. He found himself something to eat, and sat down at the table, lost in thought again, this time focusing on the pending meeting with the authorities to inform them on what happened.

"But why have they waited this long to talk to us? I thought they would have wanted to talk to us straight away, unless..." His thoughts moved down more darker and more sinister paths. The sooner that meeting was over, the happier Michael would be.

Sam was awake early the next morning. She paced around her room like a caged and angry cat before she decided to do something constructive with the pent-up frustration and aggravation. She rummaged through her cupboard and dug out a pair of running shorts and a tank top that she threw on before adding her running shoes to the mix. She filled her bottle with water, tied her hair in a ponytail and made her way through the apartment to the door.

Michael was still asleep and the smell of sour milk permeated through the living area, but she was in no mood to clean it up right now. She made her way through the door and down to the entrance of the apartment block. As soon as she stepped outside, she regretted it. Not only was her face not covered ... but she actually dared to wear a short in public! The fucking horror!! She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs.

Sam was peeved beyond all limits. She was literally waiting for one miserable person to say a word, and she would flay them alive. She securely plugged her iPod in her ears and blasted the most depraved death metal she could find to fuel her anger while she ran at a breakneck pace. People were openly gaping at her. Some even went as far as covering the eyes of their children as if she was the devil incarnated.

She made her way to the park and ran until she couldn’t run anymore. She spread her legs slightly and leaned over with her hands on her knees taking deep gulps of air as she tried to catch her breath. Removing the iPod from her ears, she finally straightened out and stretched just in time to see a lady march towards her with a purposeful stride. The woman whose clothing closely resembled that of a nun stopped in front of Sam with her eyes firing green sparks at her. Inwardly, Sam grinned ... she has been waiting for this ... the whooooole week.

“Who do you think you are? Walking around town dressed as a harlot with no respect for other peoples believes or religion? People like you should be banned from the city!!” She hissed at Sam with contempt flaring in her eyes.

Sam’s eyes were ominously swirling like a tornado. Her hands were shaking ... she was that mad. She dropped her gaze and then inspected her own clothing before her eyes shot back to the woman with mock confusion playing across her features. “Oh I am so sorry,” Sam said with sarcasm dripping from her words. “I will make a note to wear my corset next time. I am not entirely sure how the suspenders will fare in keeping the lace stockings in place at this pace, but it will be worth a try. I wasn’t aware that shorts and a t-shirt equalled a slut,” Sam said in a very conversational tone. She could not distinguish the woman’s face, but Sam was certain she was gaping like a fish.

Sam’s expression turned more serious as she took a step closer to the woman, levelling her blistering gaze on her. “As far as I know, this is a free country. From where I am standing, you very much resemble the one dressed in prison clothes,” Sam said as she let her eyes roam up and down the woman’s bland apparel. “Please, spare me your tainted believes as it clearly will not work on me,” Sam finally barked at her before she placed the iPod back in her ears. “If you will excuse me,” she said politely before she left the dumbstruck woman standing in her wake as Sam resumed her run.

She strode into the apartment with a satisfied smirk resting on her lips ... feeling much better for getting rid of some of her frustration. The oppressive and suffocating air that seemed to have a chokehold on the entire city felt lifted from her senses for a brief reprieve.

Sam’s body was glistening with a sheen of sweat as she made her way to the kitchen. She almost did not notice Michael where he sat at the table. She stopped abruptly as her eyes shot to him. “Michael ... are you feeling better?” She asked haltingly, before she continued into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. She turned and half perched herself on the cupboard as her eyes slowly made their way back to where Michael was sitting and having his breakfast.

Michael's dark thoughts were broken by the opening on the apartment door. He looked up in confusion as to who else would be just casually walking into Sam's apartment. When he saw it was Sam, and how she was dressed, everything else faded into insignificance. The look of satisfaction on her face made her look very appealing, even more so when adding the sweaty and slightly flushed appearance. But her clothing; the tank top that gripped her upper body, sticking to her where large damp patches were clearly visible and running shorts that showed off scandalous amounts of her legs. He found himself salivating as she walked past him, not noticing his presence. He didn't mind for a moment as he got to watch the sway of her hips and movements of her ass through the light fabric of the shorts.

As if she could feel his gaze actually touching her, she turned to look at him. He slowly dragged his eyes up to hers, the hunger he felt for her clear in his eyes.

“Michael ... are you feeling better?”

"Oh... much better, thank you, Samantha. Sorry for asking you to leave yesterday, but it helped me a lot knowing that you were... safely elsewhere."

He kept his eyes on her as she moved to the kitchen to get herself a drink of milk. He watched the flesh on her arm gain some goosebumps from the cold air of the fridge, making him think of other parts of her that reacted by tightening up.

He noticed her partially resting against the cupboard, almost sitting on it. Michael looked up the length of her now well displayed legs, glistening slightly in the indoor light. His gaze loitered over the area nestled between them before he looked up at her again. The thought of food was gone, but thoughts of eating were still floating around. He saw that she was looking at him intently too. He watched the glass touch her lips, then parting slightly to allow the cool liquid to pass into her mouth. Her lips sealed as the glass withdrew, no longer obscuring his vision of her soft, delicious mouth. He watched the pulse of her swallowing the milk, thinking of how her neck would feel on his lips, and how it would feel to suck the flesh of her neck between his teeth.

He stood slowly, deliberately. As smoothly as he could, he closed on Sam until his was standing in front of her. His gaze steady and unbroken from the moment he stood up remained fixed on her eyes. His breathing was heavy by the time he reached her. His head tilted slightly to one side before he leant forward putting both hands on the cupboard top on either side of Sam's body.

Before she could react, Michael took her in a searing kiss, his tongue taking advantage of the initial surprise to seek out hers, touching and teasing it as his body started pressing against hers.

Sam watched as Michael’s eyes levelled on her, his spoon forgotten in his hand as he devoured her with his smouldering gaze. She did nothing but stare, as he pushed himself out of his chair and purposely walked towards her like a hunter closing in on its prey. She felt her pulse quicken as her violet blue depths sparked with anticipation.

Her breath caught on her lips as Michael finally reached her, placing his hands on either side of her body. She absently placed the empty glass on the kitchen counter before Michael pressed a deep and demanding kiss to her lips, his tongue claiming her mouth as his own.

Sam closed her eyes … a soft moan humming against his lips as he leaned into her, the full length of his body pressed against her glistening form. Her entire body erupted in gooseflesh. He was so goddamn sexy! The way that he moved his body against her and the way that he kept her securely locked in the confines of his arms sent a shiver down Sam’s spine.

She wrapped her arms around his waist as she returned his kiss with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been burning in her soul. She could feel herself melting in his arms and basked in the heat that seemed to radiate from his being. Michael only needed to look at her with those smouldering dark depths of his to create a blistering fire that raged in Sam’s body. Her entire universe quaked whenever Michael touched her … kissed her … spoke to her.

She begrudgingly pulled her lips from his, staring up into his beautiful eyes in amazement. She let her fingertips slowly trace up along his chest until her one hand smoothed up along his neck and across his cheek, lightly tracing into his hair. Raven strands flitted through her fingertips as she slowly pressed a soft kiss to the curve of his neck, her lips lightly brushing across his shoulder.

“How do you do that?” She asked in a barely audible husky voice. Her azure eyes were shimmering with tenderness as she slowly let them roam across his features in a soft caress. She could not get enough of him … it was as if he was her own personal brand of Opium.

Michael flinched at the touch of Sam's arms around his waist, catching him slightly by surprise. But the surprise faded into a desirable tension for her hands to slide down his back and grasp his buttocks. Their bodies pressed closer, Michael becoming aware of every soft curve of her body as he tried to get closer and closer to her. He felt his own heat rising within him, but he felt cold compared to the living giving warmth coming off Sam.

Without warning, Sam broke off the kiss, Michael suppressing the growl of frustration that resulted from the ceasing of tasting her sweet, tender mouth. He had never enjoyed kissing a woman before, as an act in its own right. It was always a part of fucking her. Either part of the lead up, or something to do while pounding away on her body. Sam... Sam he could see himself kissing. Roughly, passionately, even tenderly, and enjoying just that.

The wake of her fingers passage over his skin was almost wickedly painful. His mind conjured up images of his naked chest, with lines of blood running down from where her nails had pierced his skin. The thought made the shiver he felt from her actual actions even greater. Her hand blazed a path across his neck, up his cheek until she pushed her fingertips through his hair. But her kiss to the base of his neck threatened to make the muscles dissolve as the tension in the area disintegrated from the impact of her lips.

“How do you do that?”

Her voice was pure desire in the tone, sound volume and delivery. She could have commanded anything of him at that time and he would have obeyed her without question. When her blue eyes, swept over his face, he found the ability to speak once more.

"Unnatural," he kissed her slowly, "talents."

Michael stood up, drawing Sam upright with him. He slowly turned them around, Michael kissing her cheeks as he forced her to take steps backward. His hands kneaded her back, pressing into any tense flesh that he found.

When Sam encountered the table, Michael lifted her to sit on it. When he stopped his kissing, he stared at her with the same hunger filled eyes he had when he left the table. He gripped the bottom of her tank top, peeling it off her slowly and deliberately. He bent down, kissing the flesh as it was exposed.

"My mother always told me to eat at the table," he breathed over her abdomen. The peeling slowed as he released her breasts, due to his pause to admire their unique beauty. Holding her tank top in one hand, he supported Sam with the other as he took to one of her breasts with his mouth, kissing, licking, nipping and suckling it noisily in his enjoyment.

"Unnatural talents," Michael said in his husky voice as his lips claimed hers in a slow and sensual kiss that left Sam dazed. He straightened his shoulders, his arms pulling her with him as he turned them around. Her glazed eyes were half closed as she stared at Michael in wonder, her body anticipating every move he made and gravitating towards him of its own volition. His lips were tenderly moving across her cheeks as his hands danced across her body. They moved like two lovers in an erotic dance, two bodies starving to be entwined and feasting on the pleasures of the other.

Feeling the hard surface behind her, Michael effortlessly lifted her in his arms to set her down on the cold surface. Their bodies touched for a brief moment ... sending a bolt of lightning crashing through Sam’s nervous system. Her body violently protested as his lips left hers, seemingly bereft of the air her entire being was breathing as a soft moan escaped her lips. She watched as his eyes found hers ... a raw hunger and base primal need smouldered in his dark depths like molten fire. Sam’s heart rate quickened as her lips parted slightly to allow soft gasps to pass unhindered.

His hands moved across her body, leaving a river of lava in its wake as he slowly ... sensually peeled her top from her moist skin. His head descended on her flesh as his lips left their appraising mark on her skin. He freed her breasts and Sam stopped breathing as she watched the expression on his face ... he made her feel beautiful, wanted ... sexy. Her features softened perceptibly as her eyes roamed across him tenderly.

She threw her head back as his lips ascended on those sensitive peaks. Sam arched her back to push her chest out ... her body meeting him halfway. She traced her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to her love starved body that worshipped the ground he walked upon. His arm was wrapped around her back keeping her in place, his other aimlessly holding on to her top as his mouth wreaked havoc on her senses.

Sam slowly leaned back as Michael adjusted to lean over her. She brought one of her hands down behind her to keep herself suspended in mid air. The unmistakable scent of her arousal filled the air as she parted her legs, allowing Michael to step closer as he leaned over her. Sam quivered in anticipation as their bodies touched, the warmth of his body igniting a searing fire that burned right down to the core as another soft moan escaped her lips.

She leaned her head to the side, sending a black mass of curls to cascade from her shoulder as she stared at Michael with blistering blue flames melting in her eyes. Passion was slowly drowning the world around them in a seething pool of ecstasy. “Michael ...” she said his name softly ... reverently ... the word a soft caress ... the embodiment of the one thing that her body lived and breathed for.

The way that Sam spoke his name made Michael shiver. He left the breast he has been tasting and made his way to the other untasted part of her body. Once more, his delight in her body was noisily appreciated between the various oral methods of enjoying a woman's luscious breast.

He finally peeled off the tank top, dropping it to the floor. The hand that held the tank top combed the hair behind her head as he gave her another a kiss that nearly melted the icy block at the heart of his soul. But while he enjoyed the feel of his lips on hers, his tongue dancing with hers, he gently lowered her until she was lying on the table top.

He broke off their kiss, staring in open lustful delight at her half naked body as presented on the table before him. He quickly worked at removing the remainder of her clothing, exposing the source of the wickedly sinful aroma that was filling the room. With the gentlest of touches, her parted her legs as he knelt down. His first kiss was on her dampened thigh, sucking in the flesh to better remove the ambrosial fluid from the hot skin underneath. He broke the contact, sighing loudly before rolling his lips. His tongue worked along the rest of the thigh he first kissed, lapping up Sam's arousal wherever it could be found. Her other thigh received a similar kiss to the first thigh, but his desire for the source of her wine was too strong to resist any further.

With the full breadth of his tongue, Michael lathed the length of the lips nestled between her legs. His moan spoke of the delights he encountered there, in taste, smell and feel. Twice more his tongue traveled the length, before fingers gently opened the lips to reveal her secrets. The depths of the valley were delicately swept by the tip of his tongue. He kept his breathing slow and constant, ensuring the flow of air over that part of her was warm and caressing.

He drifted down until he found the tight ring of muscles that protected an even greater treasure trove. With sighs and moans, he licked the edges of the muscles, feeling the responses from her body as he did so. He then curled his tongue into a cylindrical shape, then testing the strength of the barrier. His tongue easily passed by the guardians, and tasted of the warm darkness within. As the juices leaked and flowed, he drank them down, voicing his appreciation of the gift Sam had given him.

Releasing himself from her depths, he moved towards the little nerve filled bud of flesh. With the lightest of touches, his tongue started to caress the tiny point of flesh. The entire area is touched by the tip of the tongue, delicate contacts maintained all the time, with pauses for deep exhales to wash over the damp skin.

He paused to smile for just a moment before he all but attacked Sam just below her mons. Fast, hard strikes of the tongue as it flickered all about, allowing for the rough surface to come into play. When he paused his tongue action, he sucked on the area and occasionally used his teeth. He let his senses listen to the symphony of her body's arousal, guiding it like a fine conductor to reach the conclusion of the outstanding crescendo she was heading for.

Sam was moaning sweetly under Michael’s artful ministrations. Her enraptured flesh rose to his command, sending ripples of ecstasy to course through her body like a churning and bubbling stream … drowning her in pleasure. As his tongue … lips … and mouth descended on her sensitised nerve bud, Sam cried out to the heavens … her hands gripping the table counter tightly as the first throb of a powerful orgasm ripped through her nervous system. Her body thrashed out its soul-searing climax until the waves of erotic pleasure slowly subsided. Slumped on the tabletop, Sam’s senses slowly floated down from its natural high as she tried to catch her breath … her eyes resting on Michael’s in wonder.

Pushing herself up from the table, Sam slowly straightened her shoulders and leaned in towards Michael. One hand smoothed across his chest … around his neck into his hair while the other made its way down his abdomen to boldly caress his engorged member that was protruding from his loins. Her violet blue eyes were smouldering pools of glistening ice as a sexy smile rested on her lips. “My turn,” she said in a husky voice as she licked her lips before pressing them to his, twisting her head across as her lips swirled around his, her tongue delving into his mouth to taste the warmth of his kisses, as she pulled herself tightly against him.

Sam pushed herself off the table as she wrapped her one leg around him, sliding down to the floor to land on her extended leg… her warm and aching sex smoothing across his enamoured cock, ensconced in its fabric prison. Sam pushed his shirt over his head, pulling it from his arms before she splayed her fingers across his chest, her hands roughly smoothing across the contours of him … slowly bringing her hands down his flanks to smooth down the back to tightly grope his ass, as her teeth found one of his nipples and nipped it.

Devilish laughter bubbled from her lips at his response as she looked up at him from under her lashes. She knelt down in front of him and kissed her way down his abdomen while her hands tugged and quickly freed him of the rest of his clothing. “There you are,” she said as she spoke to his proud member as you would a wanting and needy toddler.

Without any warning, Sam wrapped her lips around his hot and throbbing erection, swirling her tongue around his glands as her hands found his balls and gently caressed them. Slowly sucking him into her mouth, she let her tongue taunt and play with the vein that throbbed beneath. Sam slowly started moving her head, her lips wrapped tightly around the girth of him as her hands joined the slow sweet tango of her mouth … suckling on his manhood … tempting … teasing … driving him absolutely insane.

Taking a deep breath, Sam relaxed the muscles in the back of her throat and swallowed him completely. The gasp that came from his lips brought music to her ears as she resumed her seduction of Michael Davingston. Quickening the pace and pressure Sam worked her mouth, bobbing up and down the length of his shaft … her tongue scraping along the bottom of his proud member, urging his body closer to the release she could feel was fast approaching.

Michael plunged his hands into her hair, pulling her close to him as his hips thrust against her. Sam could feel his body tense, every muscle in his body contracting as she swallowed him one last time and held the position, her tongue milking him as he twitched and exploded … shooting streaks of warmth down her throat. Sam moaned with delight, knowing that the vibration would enhance his pleasure, as she looked up at him … the sight … magnificent.

Michael slowly stood up as he watched Sam succumb to the pleasure her body demanded after his efforts were complete. He smiled wickedly at the bodily display occurring on the table. He took great delight in the knowledge that he had caused that in her, and that he was there to witness it in its entirety. Just watching the effect her breathing had on her was more than satisfying enough.

He calmly observed her sitting herself up, taking a sharp breath in as her hand started a soothing journey from his chest to the back of his neck and hair. But his fuller appreciation was saved for the other hand that caressed his manhood through his pants. His groan was almost a growl as his body tried to rock his hips in conjunction with her actions.

“My turn.” Michael's eyes opened for a fraction of a second, just long enough to see Sam closing for a kiss. He received the kiss enthusiastically, joining her in her oral passion. He still continued to voice his delight in their togetherness, even as she added to the overall tactile overload by pressing her naked body against his. The darker core of his soul started to sing its wicked delight at what it anticipated, readying itself to make it far, far more exciting for them both.

Michael found himself swaying between a barrage of pleasure from Sam, not being able to keep up with everything she was doing. He only knew his shirt was gone when the cooler air struck his warm back, as the feel of her most personal heat blazing through his pants directly on his cock obliterated everything else he was aware of. The feel of her hands on his exposed skin left a trail of heat and desire that was almost painfully sweet to him. Her tight grip of his ass was enough to make him want to drive his hips into her.

The her teeth found one of his nipples, sending a jolt of pain through his body that left a longing to experience it again. But she continued her way down his abdomen, drawing gasps of pleasure from him with each brush of her lips against his almost feverish skin. He cared little for what else was happening, his mind lost in the moment, as well as imagining what was going to occur.

His eyes snapped open from the half closed contentment as he looked down to see Sam taking him into her mouth. Words that tried to come out as mere sounds failed to be heard as he focused on breathing and watching as the beauty before him lavished him with feelings that were beyond what any woman before her had managed to give him. His hands gripped the table, knuckles white holding him steady as Sam reduced his ability to control his own body.

Her mouth took him in a way that was deliciously different from anything he experienced, even when she took his entire length. To him, it felt like she knew exactly what to do, and when to do it to bring him to that place that only she managed to take him. It was a delightful shock for him to have a woman do this, to be so remarkably different after all the times, after all the years women had done this to him.

He never blinked once, never took his eyes off her as he was propelled to a plateau of pleasure he had never been to before. He felt himself start to reach his climax, rushing there with a power that started to frighten him.

Instinct took over, his grip of the table forgotten, the incarnation of Aphrodite before him his focal point. His hands embraced her head, drawing her closer as he thrust his hips forward in preparation for the finale of her carnal enjoyment. His voice finally found, a loud rejoicing echoed through the room as his body showed Sam how glorious her attentions were. His entire body rocked violently in sync with the eruption of his seed with her. Her answering moan set of a vibration that almost shook Michael to pieces.

His eyes wanted to close, his body to collapse and do nothing but feel the echos of the bliss Sam gave him. But he caught her deep blue eyes gazing up at him through her lashes. He was mesmerized by them as she slid herself free of him. Only then did the remainder of his self control vanish, allowing him to slump to the floor before her. Again words failed him as all he could do was look at the woman who seemed to be so completely different to any other he had used in the past. But this time, the woman was enjoyed, and she enjoyed too.

Without the influence of his birthright.


Michael spent the rest of the day basking in the after effects of their time in the kitchen. His mind reviewed everything that happened from the moment she walked in the door to the time she finally stood up and walked away. The sight of her naked body walking away from him was almost enough to make him go after her and do more of those delightful activities they they both seemed to enjoy. But he sensibly reined in that desire, as he was not up to it, and he wanted to do things properly.

The weekend was spent quietly, as the debriefing with Sam's work colleagues kept triggering alarm bells. Something about the "authorities" was not sitting right with him. There had been no interviews with the Police, which was completely out of the norm. The only other "authorities" Michael could think of were the Church, but they did not have the same degree of control as they had in other nations. Other nations that were actually governed by the Church.

With the exception of a short walk to buy a few suspense novels, Michael stayed in the apartment for the entire weekend. He read his books, stopping only to eat, sleep or stare at Sam. Whenever she entered the room, his eyes found her. He watched her intently, looking all over her, but never saying a word to her unless she spoke to him first. But his look spoke to her of many things. Desire. Hunger. Wanting. Mystery. The slightest touch of Fear.

But all of things vanished from Michael on the Monday morning, as he dressed himself completely in black. His shirt and pants were a conservative style, simple coarse materials of the type used by the Franciscan Friars. He ensured that he was neatly presented, and was ready to face anything the Churchmen would throw his way. He was certain that the Church was who Petersen referred to when they first met.

Michael waited by the door, projecting an air of calm as if what was to transpire was an everyday event. He smiled briefly, thinking of Daniel standing outside the mouth of the Lion's Den, wondering if the young man felt the same way Michael was just then.

The weekend seemed to drag. Her mind was swarming around the debriefing session scheduled for Monday morning, 10h00 at Peterson & Associates. She pensively sat on her bed with her legs crossed, staring out the window at the suburb that brought a flood of bad memories streaming to her conscious mind.

She vehemently hoped the debriefing session would be a constructive platform that the remaining survivors could utilise to discuss their feelings of the events that transpired that fateful day. She hoped it could be a way for all of them to come to terms with the terrible loss, to take away what they have learnt from the experience, however dark and haunting it may be, to move on. Sam needed closure … a way of affirming that the lives that were lost were not in vain.

She aimlessly floated around the apartment, noticing the odd expressions that her presence seemed to invoke on Michael. His eyes had a myriad of emotions written in their dark depths, as they seemed to follow her movements around. She had the distinct impression that there was a fathom of questions and things that Michael wanted to share with her that he seemed to avoid … for whatever reason. He was painstakingly polite whenever she tried to make conversation with him, but the way that Michael looked at her was something that no man had ever done before. How was it even possible for a man to make her feel beautiful just by looking at her?

Monday morning came too soon, and as Sam dressed in a light blue business suit, she had all but forgotten about the debriefing as her mind squarely focussed on Michael. His presence was driving her to the point of distraction. She was inanely aware of his whereabouts, his every move … the expressions that rested on his face that only managed to raise more and more questions in her mind. He was mysterious ... and there were a few things that did not quite add up ...

The drive to the office was done in relative silence as both stared out their windows lost in their own thoughts, Andrew’s eyes darting from one to the other in the rear view mirror. Sam was quietly contemplating the best time to approach Michael, to ask him the barrage of questions that floated around in her head.

Arriving at the office park, Sam and Michael brusquely made their way up to the boardroom on the top floor. Sam greeted each director warmly and took a seat next to Michael. The open seats at the table stood as stark reminders of the terrible loss that Peterson & Associates had suffered … that each family linked to that person had to endure. A solemn silence hung in the boardroom as each person’s eyes seemed to roam from one to the other. Sam could recognise the anguish and apprehension in each of them … the questions that seemed to linger there.

She finally let her eyes find that of David Peterson. Sam gave him a small re-assuring smile. “Where do we start David?” she asked softly.

“I have no idea Sam,” David said earnestly. In his entire career, he had never had to deal with an event of such catastrophic proportions. “From the company’s perspective we have lost a great deal …” his voice trailed off as he stared at the empty seats. “These are men that have devoted themselves to build this company to what it is today …” David abruptly stood and turned his back on the boardroom table staring out the window. “How do you value a life?” David asked in a haunted voice.

“The biggest question lingering in everyone’s mind is whether the urban upliftment programme will continue,” Martin said across from Sam. He was a short and burly man with a short fuse. He was however unrivalled in the field of Operations Management. “As far as I am concerned those hooligans can die in those buildings,” he snapped acidly.

“Thinking like that will not do us any good,” David said smoothly provoking a condescending grunt from Martin.

“The contract is signed and sealed. I am sure we could find an exclusion that will render the contract null and void, but that would mean that our six directors died in vain,” David said, as he turned to level a very calm eye on Martin. “I refuse to let that happen.”

“We were naïve in our approach to the process,” Joel offered. “We should have anticipated the security risk. Our ignorance has cost us dearly,” Joel said staring at his hands, sounding every inch the financial director that he was.

“Everything happened in a blur,” Curtis said as his eyes slowly made their way to Sam and Michael. “What I would like to know is how you managed to escape Sam? How did you survive an entire day unharmed in that hellhole?” Sam could feel all eyes shifting to her … the question clearly mirrored on everyone’s faces.

Her ice blue depths darted from one face to the next. She herself was not quite sure of the answer to that question. Michael had managed to save her from a horrible fate, but she was not even sure how he did that. “I was taken captive by a group of men … from their attire and the way that they spoke to each other, I think it could be safe to assume that they were a gang,” Sam started explaining, watching them flinch in response. “Michael somehow managed to convince them to let me go,” she said bestowing a very thankful gaze on him, which only managed rile a few raised eyebrows from the directors. Thinking it wise to avoid the events that followed in Michael’s home, Sam simply added, “Michael took me to his home where we stayed until morning and then he walked me back to civilisation,” Sam explained.

“We feared for your safety and the rest of the directors when the only ones that made it back to the office were the four of us,” Joel said looking at Sam. A search crew went to find the rest only to bring the news of six deceased. We thought …” Joel’s words trailed off. “I am just happy to see you Sam,” he added quickly.

“Yes we are,” David added as he walked to Sam’s chair and patted both her and Michael's shoulder softly. “As we are not security experts we have asked the authorities to assist us with their expertise in the project moving forward.” As David’s words echoed through the boardroom, the door opened …

Michael walked into the board room, easily seeing the looks of pain on the faces of the four men waiting when they arrived. He saw the way the Sam and Michael were scrutinized on their entry. Some of the faces clearly asked the question, 'What happened to you?', when they looked at Sam. Michael cared little for these men as individuals, beyond their impact on Sam. Michael covered his shock at that thought as he sat down, adjusting the position of his right leg to make it more comfortable during the meeting.

Michael sat back, letting the others speak of whatever was on their minds. They had suffered more than he had by the loss of the men on their visit. His mind wandered back to the 'authorities' that would be attending, and who they would ultimately be. His train of thought was broken by Sam's response to the most wanted to be asked question. He kept his expression neutral as Sam told them what occurred, wondering what they would think if she told them of the second attack on them.

David walked over to where Sam and Michael were sitting, patting his shoulder. He had a momentary urge to slap the and away from him. He never let anyone just casually touch him like that, in such a condescending manner. Michael killed the frown before it started, caught by surprise at his reaction to a simple friendly gesture. He was finding himself more and more unnerved by the prospect of what was going to happen. The whole debriefing schedule was wrong, and that more than anything got Michael cautious. He had dealt with enough police departments in his time to know how they worked.

“As we are not security experts we have asked the authorities to assist us with their expertise in the project moving forward.”

The door to the boardroom opened. Everyone except for Michael turned to look at the trio entering the room. Michael refrained due to a combination of being settled and comfortable, and he would see them soon enough.

The first man to enter Michael's field of vision was a middle aged man who's blonde hair made it difficult to see where the gray was. His Mediterranean complexion was showing signs of the toll of his years, but his movement spoke of a man who was still vital in his health. The standard black cassock made Michael immediately think of an Inquisitor, but the flash of a white collar signified that the man was a priest of some order of the Christian Sect.

A younger man followed, also in a black cassock but lacking the priest's telltale collar. The Inquisitor's coal coloured hair was untouched by gray, and his entire demeanor was one of confidence bordering on arrogance that came with 'youth'. He would have easily been in his early 30's by Michael's estimates. What did catch Michael's attention was the Inquisitor glanced at Michael's extended leg, and the man stopped his facial reaction before Michael had a chance to determine what it was.

The final member was both a surprise and not. Dressed in urban camouflage, regulation #2 haircut and carrying a side arm walked the Janissary. He was about the same age as the inquisitor, and he too had the confidence of his training, but the arrogance was not there. At least he could not see it.

Michael's fears had been founded slightly as the three men took their seats, their behaviour such that they appeared to be completely at home and in charge. Michael watched them as they surveyed the room, and in particular himself and Sam. As suspected, the two 'priests' both looked a bit surprised at Sam's choice of attire, though the inquisitor looked at Sam longer than his companion did. But the Janissary and the Inquisitor both looked at Michael as if they could bore holes through him. He ignored their weighted stares as if they were an everyday occurrence.

"Thank you for inviting us to assist you, Mister Petersen," The eldest of the three spoke. His voice was hale, with the ring of command that only a teacher gets after standing in front of a class for a few years. "My name is Father Jeremy, of the Society of Jesus. My companions are Brother Maynard of the Inquisition, and Janissary Geoffrey. We have received some preliminary reports of the incident concerned, but firstly, if we can have a recounting from each of you as to what you observed. If we can start with you, Mister Petersen."

"Yes, Father," David replied before recalling the events as they occurred. He spoke with a great deal of detail of what he saw, felt, heard and was told, clearly pointing out what he knew, was he concluded and what he guessed. Each of the remaining directors spoke similarly, though their point of view were different to the others. Through the two hours of talking, the three men took down notes, not asking any questions or making any interruptions while they spoke.

"Thank you," Father Jeremy said as the last of the directors finished his recounting. "Before we go any further, I would like to clarify one point. You are Samantha Langley, contractor," he looked over at Sam, "which would make you Michael Davingston." Both of them nodded quietly.

Brother Maynard rested his pen on the notebook he was writing in, as he leant back in his chair. He looked briefly at Michael before fixing his gaze on Sam.

"Do you mind if I call you Samantha?" Brother Maynard asked. "Samantha, firstly may I say that we are all very pleased to know that you were returned safely from your ordeal, and that you did not suffer the same fate that befell the other members of the corporation. It is a testament to your natural talents that you were able to made good your safety in such times." Michael caught the flicker of the Inquisitor's eyes from Sam's face when he said 'natural talents', and in doing so missed Sam's reaction. But it was evident that the trio sitting opposite her didn't miss it. "Samantha, I was not meaning to be insulting to you by what I just said. You are a well educated woman, your results from your University show that you are clearly intelligent as well. That you are determined is also evident in your career history, carving a name for yourself in a male dominated field. You had the forethought to attempt to extricate yourself from the situation spoke enormously of your faith in yourself.

"But what is most significant to us all, Samantha, is how you managed to do what you did, all by yourself, without the aid of the two security personnel assigned to protect you. Please, Sam, tell us what happened to you in the time you were missing?"

Sam turned and watched as three individuals entered. Two were dressed as priests and the third was dressed in standard camouflage gear. Her brow immediately furrowed into a frown as she watched them take their seats ... a sense of uneasiness creeping up on her. She was expecting police officers dressed in the normal blue uniform or detectives in suits ... not two priests and someone who looked as if he had just stepped out of an army battalion. What did the church have to do with the authorities? The question flew through Sam’s mind.

What was more baffling was the sense of foreboding confidence that seemed to radiate from all three men, the type that clearly stated that they were in charge of this operation as from now. Sam was instantly annoyed as she was subjected to disapproving eyes surveying her choice of outfit. That sense of annoyance flared into indignation as they proceeded to stare Michael into oblivion, branding them as public enemy number one in Sam’s mind.

She clenched and unclenched her jaw as she kept her eyes focussed on the writing pad in front of her, listening with half an ear as the four directors recounted their interpretation of the events to the representatives of ‘the Society of Jesus’. Sam gave Father Jeremy a curt nod as he confirmed her name as if she was some kind of suspect in a murder investigation. Brother Maynard however caught her attention as he proceeded to lounge in his chair, subjecting Sam to a thorough ‘evaluation’ of his eyes, which set sparks off in Sam’s eyes.

It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to correct Brother Maynard that she did actually mind him calling her Samantha when he continued without awaiting her answer. She pursed her lips tightly together and listened as he proceeded to speak of her ‘natural talents’, which instantly sent asshole Maynard’s eyes darting to her breasts, his lascivious eyes taking note of the ample display of cleavage.

Sam’s eyes erupted in a swirling blue hurricane as she levelled a death stare on Maynard that would put a level 10 storm to shame. His eyes darkened at Sam’s response as a slight smile tugged at his lips, which only fuelled Sam’s rapidly growing ire with the infuriating man.

Maynard revelled in the open hostility in Sam’s expression, his words dripping from his lips in fake sincerity. "Samantha, I was not meaning to be insulting to you by what I just said. You are a well educated woman, your results from your University show that you are clearly intelligent as well. That you are determined is also evident in your career history, carving a name for yourself in a male dominated field. You had the forethought to attempt to extricate yourself from the situation spoke enormously of your faith in yourself.”

What the hell did her academic records and her achievements in her professional career have to do with any of this? It had no bearing and carried no weight whatsoever. The fact that he had this information readily available meant that they had run a background check on her, which ticked Sam off mightily.

"But what is most significant to us all, Samantha, is how you managed to do what you did, all by yourself, without the aid of the two security personnel assigned to protect you. Please, Sam, tell us what happened to you in the time you were missing?" He asked, arching an eyebrow expectantly. Maynard refrained from mentioning Michael at all, which immediately indicated that they were waiting for her to ‘implicate’ him somehow. The fact that he had switched to calling her Sam did not escape her attention either. The fucking bastards, they were waiting for a chance to crucify Michael. She had to stifle the irrational urge to climb across the table and hit the man with her bare fist ... not that it would achieve anything besides her own satisfaction.

Sam took a deep breath as she attempted to reign in her rapidly fraying temper. They wanted her to lose her cool ... they were edging her on to say even the slightest incriminating morsel about Michael ... hell, even about herself.

“Thank you for your kind words, Brother Maynard,” Sam said plastering a very fake smile on her lips. “As you well know,” Sam said as she let her eyes drop to the file he had next to him as a subtle accusation. “I have done work in many countries across the globe in far worse conditions than this,” Sam said as her eyes snapped back to Maynard's. “I could see trouble brewing and I readied myself to run, which I did ... leaving the two security personnel behind,” Sam said levelly, her tone and delivery clearly showing her opinion of the two inept body guards.

“Despite my efforts, I was taken captive by a group of men. From their attire and the way that they spoke it was safe to assume that they were a gang,” Sam said, repeating what she had said to Curtis earlier. For the first time she wished she hadn’t. “Michael came to my rescue and managed to convince them to let me go,” she said interjecting a warm tone in her voice that she hoped spoke of gratefulness in addition to bestowing an idolising gaze on Michael. “He graciously offered the shelter of his home for the evening and then walked me back to civilisation the next morning,” Sam said unflinchingly, giving him an expectant gaze.

“Our reports are showing that Michael has been staying with you in your apartment since the event. Is that correct Samantha?” Maynard asked, the underlying implication crystal clear.

Fine, if that is how you want to play this? Let’s fight fire with fire, shall we? Sam’s mind retorted in a stinging voice. “I could not in good conscious allow him to go back into that place,” Sam said, adding a bit of shock to her voice that he as a member of the church could even imply such a thing. “I owe Michael my life and it was the least I could do,” Sam said in a voice that clearly stated that this was something that any good Christian would do, killing his line of thinking immediately.

“You are a single woman, Samantha. Naturally you can understand our concern that you have opened your home to a virtual stranger without the proper chaperone present.” Sam nearly burst out laughing. What was this, the middle ages? Sam found the idea utterly preposterous not to mention condescending.

“I have a spare bedroom and am only too willing to help a fellow human being in need. Wouldn’t you Father?” Sam asked pointedly as she interjected a tone of disbelief that Brother Maynard would even imply that she could engage in sexual activities with a ‘virtual stranger’. Sam was inwardly smiling at how easy it was to hang him with his own rope. “Besides gentlemen, my personal virtue is not the matter under discussion here today, is it?” Sam asked sweetly, making crystal clear what she thought of their meddlesome implications.