Byzantium's Bane

OOC: This thread is closed for marauder13 and DarkEmpress. We both hope you enjoy our tale.

Michael Davingston winced as he slowly lumbered up the sloped walkway from the railway platform. People were rushing past him, jostling him in their haste to get to wherever they needed to go. About him were men dressed in suits and other conservative modes of attire. He was also aware of the increasing number of women now following the dictates of the Byzantine Church regarding appropriate attire. Long dresses and skirts, or specifically designed pants, long sleeved tops that were not too form flattering, as well as enclosed head dress including a veil. Very few women were showing much, if any of their legs or arms. One or two adventurous women were wearing form flattering outfits, and they were attracting attention of the wrong type from the passersby.

Michael wore loose fitting dark pants, and a voluminous coarse camel coloured shirt. He carried a backpack that had seen better days. He paused at the landing to rub his right knee, before pushing his thumbs into the soft flesh around the kneecap. He heard the loud snap, and the pain receded immediately. He set off again, his rolling gait oddly effective in helping him to cover ground quickly. Soon he was out of the train station, pausing to gain his bearings.

As he scanned the surrounds, he picked up a lot of information that was interesting and disturbing to him at the same time. He saw no signs of the local law enforcement, even though there was surveillance cameras liberally distributed around the mall. What he did see were Inquisitors Ordinaire in their very telltale black cassocks over kevlar vests. Michael snorted that they dressed in a manner to remind people fo priests of the Christian Sect, yet they were nothing like priests at all. The pair he saw were all openly armed with submachine guns. That too was a surprising fact. There must be trouble in the city for them to be so openly armed. But the most surprising sight of all was the Janissary team jogging towards the exit of the mall. The strike force of the Church, unlike the various orders of the Knights Templar, were used to deal with the more volatile civilian circumstances within Church “jurisdiction”. Heavily armed, heavily armoured, well trained and loyal to the Church unto death, they were a force to be left in peace.

He continued on his way out of the mall. He knew where he was going, though he could not name the streets or the suburbs or any other names by which the places went. But his heart, his soul, heard the siren call of the place. He drifted further from the cleaner, more occupied places into the more neglected and run down parts of the city. Fronts of the buildings were covered in graffiti. The people were more suspicious in their expressions, as well as being more alert. As he continued his rolling gaited walk, people stopped and stared at him as he passed. He was a 6' tall Caucasian with a slight olive tinge. His black hair stopped just below his shoulders and his dark brown eyes took in everything around him while he walked as though he belonged.

He paused outside a boarded up store. He looked at the heavily defiled walls, the broken windows and bent security bars that poked out from behind the boards. He walked over to the door, opening it easily. The hinges screamed as they were forced to work for the first time in months, but he ignored it. He passed through the gap into the stale darkness beyond. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, then exhaling through his mouth.

“Ahhh... this is definitely the place. Just a few little extra touches, and it will be like home.”

“Just as long as you remember to pay the rent, as well as the insurance,” an arrogant voice spoke from behind him. Michael didn't even bother to turn around. The voice told him everything he needed to know about the one who addressed him. Late teens, either drunk or drugged to some degree, and a member of the local gang. Safe in the knowledge he was not alone, and no one would stand up against them. Michael's smile was feral.

“There was no for rent sign outside, and I have security good enough that I don't need to pay insurance. Now, be a good boy and got back to your gang boss and tell him to leave me, and this place alone.” Michael turned slowly, pivoting on his right leg until he was facing the young man. He assessment was correct about his age. The Hispanic lad all the bearings of a gang member. His stance was aggressive, his expression arrogant and confident.

“You don't understand, anyone living around here pays rent, and the smart ones also pay insurance too. If they don't, then we can't stop any of the bad shit that goes down. And a gimp like you definitely needs the insurance.”

“Gimp?” Michael's voice dropped, sending a slight shiver through the ganger. “I have good security, and I will pay rent in the form of leaving your sorry asses in one piece. If you fuck with me at all, I will curse you in a way that will make you wish I had never been born.”

“Sure, curse me. I have been cursed many times before and I am fine. But, you have been warned. Don't cry to us when the bad stuff happens to you.” The young man turned and walked out of Michael's new home. Michael noticed some of the arrogance and confidence was missing.

“Something tells me that a certain group of youngsters will get a valuable lesson in how to deal with me. Me and my friends.”

Samantha Langley was trying to watch the movie on the little screen in front of her. She was however finding it very hard to concentrate. Sam was ecstatic when she was offered the job as project manager for a major urban renewal project. The projects that Sam had completed throughout the world, had taken her to interesting locations across the globe ranging from third world through to first world countries.

The information that was sent through to her for review painted a rather bleak picture regarding this particular project. She was heading for a gang-riddled suburb within a major metropolitan city. It was a volatile melting pot of clashing cultures, the biggest being the bizarre religious practices. The entire suburb had been subject to years of terrible neglect. The place was quite literally falling apart at the seams, posing a risk to everyone in it. She had her reservations regarding her safety, even though they assured her that every precaution was being taken.

Sam was briefed to cover everything and was sent a veil of sorts that she was strongly advised to wear. She stared at the air-hostesses that were walking past her wearing long skirts and plain button up shirts along with these veils. She could not even highlight one distinguishing factor between them.

She had decided not to wear the veil, out of principle. She would however respect their dress code. She had packed a host of cargo pants that would not look too odd with her steel enforced caterpillar safety shoes along with long-sleeved tops and shirts.

The Boeing finally touched down 20 minutes ahead of schedule, which gave Sam a gap to freshen up, as she was being rushed straight into a briefing meeting. She picked her luggage up and exited into the arrivals hall, instantly feeling out of place. Every other woman in the place was covered from head to toe. Sam was dressed in an elegant black business suit with high-heeled shoes clicking on the marble floor, her sunglasses pushed up onto her head as her raven black hair cascaded down to her waist. Her sky-blue silk shirt highlighted her very expressive violet blue eyes that were set within a naturally pale complexion.

She noticed a tall man holding a sign up for ‘Sam Langley’. She smiled at what was bound to be a rude surprise. Despite her reputation in the industry, very few of her prospective employers knew that ‘Sam Langley’ was actually a woman. Her height of 5.7 were slightly pushed up by her high heels and she stopped in front of the dark haired man giving him a friendly smile as she held her hand out in a greeting. “I’m Sam Langley,” she said. The expression on his face was priceless. The poor man stammered an incoherent line before wildly indicating for her to follow him, introducing himself as Andrew. Sam put her sunglasses on as they exited the building and a few minutes later they were on their way to what would be her new home for the next six months. She left her luggage in the car as Andrew escorted her up to the top floor boardroom where everyone was waiting for her arrival.

An expectant smile rested on Sam’s lips as she entered the boardroom. The entire room went silent at the sight of the elegant lady that stepped in. Sam walked up to the head of the table and greeted David Peterson with a warm handshake. She slowly made her way around the room and greeted every board member. They were all considerably taken aback. Even David was gaping at her. “A pleasure to meet you gentlemen,” she said to the entire room as she took the only open seat and withdrew her folder containing all the information and plans that she had been working on. Sam was a workaholic by nature, and she had little or no time for pleasantries as a rule, much less trying to make a bunch of men feel comfortable around her.

They had a very productive meeting as Sam walked them through her suggestions and they discussed some aspects of the project in detail. They had a site-visit scheduled at 13h00 that afternoon, which gave Sam three hours to have a quick nap and to change into something more comfortable. They picked her up exactly on time and Sam was quite amused to see that the entire group of board members were coming along for the visit, which warranted the use of three cars. She was dressed in a black set of cargo pants, her Cats and an orange polar-neck long-sleeved t-shirt with a black sleeveless jacket that she zipped up halfway to keep her warm.

Sam stared out the window at the scene around her, starting to feel a little uneasy. It was as if everyone was lifeless outside. She did not see one person smile. There were guards of sorts marching through the streets. The entire place had the palpable feel of a warzone but without the screaming chaos. Sam could see the deterioration and vandalism that was becoming more and more pronounced as they drove further away from the city centre and into the suburb. The people changed as well, from being extremely prim and proper to being more human. She had seen these looks before in countries that she had visited. They were naturally suspicious and their convoy of cars attracted quite a bit of attention.

Sam wasn’t blind to the disapproving looks that were being showered upon her. She was however not from here and she had no reason to pretend to fit in, when she clearly did not. She sighed lightly as they came to a halt outside what appeared to have been a very nice square at one stage. The team was not too worried about Sam’s safety in reality ... that was until they discovered that she was a woman. She was instantly assigned two guards that were ordered to flank her at all times. Sam stepped out of the car feeling like a high-profile senator ... which was going to be extremely distracting.

Most of the Baja Banditos were relaxing in their mother house. The old, small scale supermarket was large enough to house the entire gang in times of need, along with the various hangers on. There were places to sleep, both private and dorm, eat, do business, do drugs, have sex, torture victims, have parties and just hang out.

Vic was sitting back in a chair, enjoying a beer that was donated by a local shop owner in return for their keeping his place safe. He had told his boss about the 'gimp', who laughed and promised that the 'gimp' would get a taste of why those payments would be made. Then, like everyone else, his attention was drawn to the commotion at the front door.

She wore a tank top that hugged every inch of her well shaped torso, and generous breasts. It left a nice band of naturally tanned flesh in between it and the short, black skirt that clung to her enticing hips. From the other end appeared legs that went on forever and were absolutely perfect. Vic dragged his eyes up to her face. Her face was framed by raven black hair that went half way down her back, brown eyes that almost shone. Red lips that formed the most alluring smile he had every seen. She turned her face to the gang member behind her, shaking her head, and brushing his nose playfully with a finger as she stepped away from him. He groaned loudly, pained at the rejection he received from the Goddess who walked in their midst.

Gang members stood and made their way to her, but she denied them all in turn, even the leader. He was furious, grabbing her and spinning her around. Her arm snaked around his neck, drawing him into a kiss that never stopped until the leader passed out. No one laughed, they all stared at her, torn between following their leader's example, or hanging back to see what would happen.

Finally, her eyes found Vic, and the smile was one of joy. She walked over to where Vic was sitting, unable to move as she closed on him. With ease, she straddled his lap, sitting down so her groin was firmly placed against his. In doing so, it became clear to everyone as her skirt rode up that she was not wearing anything underneath. She peered over her shoulder to the admiring, and somewhat jealous crowd, gracing them with a final smile before she returned to look at Vic.

She closed the distance between their mouths quickly, sealing the kiss and darting her tongue into his mouth, tasting his beer, as well as him. She started to moan seductively, grinding her groin into his, clearly feeling the growing reaction to her presence. She broke off the kiss, staring into his wide eyes as she lifted herself off his lap enough to efficiently remove his pants, and liberate his swollen cock. She gave a naughty little laugh before kissing him and sliding herself onto him. Vic groaned through the kiss as she took him in completely in one smooth motion.

She sat back, rocking her hips and peeled off her top. The breasts were firm, full and mere inches from Vic's salivating mouth. She brought them closer to him as she started to ride his length. Like a dying man, Vic swallowed the offered nipples, sucking on them in the vain hope that he would be rewarded with some liquid to soothe his parched throat. Her moans echoed through the room, drowning out the sounds of their slow fucking and the sounds on masturbation going on around them.

She started riding him harder, slamming her hips into his lap at an increasingly faster rate. Vic was groaning, sweating, thrusting as hard and fast as he could. Without warning, she stopped. She stood up, helping him to stand. She took the seat, spreading her legs almost impossibly wide, beckoning him back with a single curl of her finger. In a flash, Vic was on his knees, fucking her frantically. Her cries of passion spurred their audience on. Everyone had their cock on hand, fisting at various speeds while Vic pounded away. Sweat was pouring down his body, his breathing ragged and laboured as he sought to give her what she wanted and get what he wanted too.

One more change of position, to her kneeling on the chair, Vic loosing no time in mounting her and thrusting as hard and fast as he could. His hands clutched her hips, holding them as his arms shook and his legs struggled to hold him upright. Sounds of men cumming echoed through the room as Vic's face was bright red. His expression was one of terror as he continued to fuck her as fast as he could. She was screaming in delight, urging him on with soft words of encouragement. Vic was trying to say something, but all he could do was breathe and groan his pleasure at the best fucking he had ever had in his life. More of the gang had added their cum to the stains on the floor as Vic finally found his voice.

“Sweet.... Mary... Mother of....” His voice exploded into a loud groan, almost a roar as he came within her. At the same time, the woman's voice rang out loud with the orgasm she was given. Together, their bodies rocked to the violent result of their coupling. Vic's look of terror was locked on his face as his corpse slide free of her. She stood up, pulling her skirt down before she donned her top. She looked down at Vic, a slight pout going along with the “aaawwwww” that slipped from her lips.

She looked at the stunned gangers standing around her. “The 'gimp' just paid his rent for the week. I'll be seeing one of you other nice... lovely... sexy men in a week's time.” This time, not one pair of eyes was on her as she left, they all looked at the dead body of the 'lucky' man who got to fuck her.


Michael looked on the inside of his new abode, liking the effect that the candle light had on the broken, paint splattered walls. He walked to the circle he had drawn only an hour before, and waited. The five, pure red candles burned slowly. Their light illuminating the chalk drawn design, making it glow like solid silver.

The distinct click of high heels announced her arrival. The subtle perfume wafting to his nose, trying to get him to focus on his companion and delight in her offerings. She stopped beside him, licking her lips as if she had tasted a fine meal.

“Thank you, Sir. That was most delicious, and very entertaining. I have not dined in full company before. I found it to be most pleasing. I look forward to paying rent for you again.”

Michael's eyesight was fixed forward, not even looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Even with the protection he had, he could feel her essence calling out to him. He called on his own power, his own heritage, and his body ceased it's slow slide into terminal rebellion.

“I doubt that they will have the courage to ask for more rent. Something tells me my dearest pet, that only a brave few will indulge any carnal desires for a long time because of your showing. But I am sure that they will do something worthy of rewarding. And when they do, I will call on you to reward them.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she cooed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Her smile faded a little when he didn't react in any manner to her action. She carefully stepped over the circle, taking her place in the middle. She bowed her head solemnly before she started to dissipate, turning into a crimson cloud of smoke that was drawn into the floor. Michael waited a few minutes before he extinguished the candles. With that, the circle faded to the normal chalky white.

He moved to the bed in what was once the office, sitting down with a grunt. He removed the shoe and sock from his left foot before turning his attention to his right leg. He unzipped the boot, removing it and the sock. He look at the legacy of his father's heritage. From below his right knee, his leg became a mass of twisted flesh, sinew, tendons and bone that ended in a bulb slightly wider than his thigh. The strain of the more or less dead weight occasionally wrenched his knee out of joint. He needed to work on strengthening it more. Until then, he pushed it back into place and realigned tendons and such manually.

Once the knee was fixed, he settled down to rest. He woke again a few hours later feeling refreshed. He put on his footwear again, and decided to scout out the neighbourhood. He left the building, noticing that a few of the locals immediately took to cover, which made him smile with true pleasure.

“Good, word travels fast around here. Maybe people will show me the respect I deserve.” He turned to the right, and set off down the littered, broken sidewalk to get to better know his new home.

Sam felt as if she was leading an expedition. She was walking ahead of everyone else, while the rest of the board members trailed behind her in their suits. Every time she stopped to take measurements or get a reading they would all peer over her shoulder nodding their heads as if they knew exactly what she was doing. The purpose of the site visit was for Sam to decide which buildings needed to be demolished.

Sam walked about a block, taking note of the cracks in the pavement and the badly deteriorated roads. She stopped outside a building and placed her hand over her brow trying to block the sun as she looked up at the four story building. A man came walking out of the building brushing past Sam. His arms were tattooed and he was dressed in a typical gangster outfit complete with a cap and a liberal amount of ‘bling’ clanging around his neck. Sam was just about to make a comment about rude people, when he turned and blew her a kiss. She quickly turned back, her bodyguards forming rank behind her to glare at him. “Mmm mmm mmm, look at those sweet cheeks,” he said, tracing her form in the air in front of him.

A few of his friends joined him on the opposite pavement, openly disrobing Sam with their eyes while making comments. “Imagine that ass” “Soft breasts” “Come here baby” “hubba hubba” Sam shot them a murderous look across her shoulder. “That is no way to speak to a lady,” she hissed at them, before returning to her work. They seemed amused at her comment.

The exceedingly uncomfortable group of board members huddled against the wall, while Sam’s bodyguards tensed up. “Dave, this building,” Sam said quietly, looking over at David while she patted the wall. The entire building was structurally compromised, having a crack that ran from the other side of the road, straight across the building. It was clear that the foundations were not properly laid before it was built. Sam was supposed to paint a red cross on the wall to indicate which buildings needed to be demolished, but refrained from doing so as the crowd’s interest in her words suddenly escalated.

“What are you folks doing here?” one of the gang members asked ominously.
Sam gave David an apprehensive little look, before turning to look at them. The sight that greeted Sam scared her. The group was fast growing into a crowd. She hoped that David had taken the initiative to inform the residents of their intentions and that he was not about to be the harbinger of doom.

“We are from City Planning,” David addressed the crowd. Sam retraced a few of her steps and positioned herself between the board members, her guards following her. She wished they hadn’t, it made it obvious who they were here to protect. Sam noted that the majority of the crowd followed her movements and was oblivious to David.

“We are launching an urban upliftment programme,” David continued explaining in a calm voice, “and we are identifying which buildings need our attention.” The crowd erupted into a seething and smouldering mass of discontent, shouts being hurtled at David’s words. Sam’s eyes widened as she took another few steps back. She had seen situations like this before ... this one was about to get ugly.

The noise from the crowd escalated to a deafening level while doubling in size. The drivers in their vehicles had noticed the uproar and brought the cars closer to get the board members to safety. The only security they had were the two guards standing sentry in front of Sam.

All hell suddenly broke loose as the crowd broke ranks and charged at them, shouts of discontent filling the air as the crowd transformed into a mindless monster. Sam was sure that half the people were not even sure why they were chasing them. The cars were already swamped with people and even if she made it there, it would only compound the problem. She suddenly veered off heading towards the square, her guards getting lost in the crowd. She remembered seeing a footbridge that crossed the highway ... if she could make it there.

A steel cold grip tightened around Sam’s arm pulling her off balance, sending her flying across the concrete. “Hello sweet cheeks,” a sadistic voice rang out over the noise as Jake towered over Sam. He bent over and unceremoniously lifted Sam off the floor, dragging her with him. Sam’s eyes were transfixed in fear, the colour draining from her features. “Let go!” she screamed, as she clawed and fought against him. She managed to land a kick in his groin. His hands instantly loosened their grip around her arm. Sam yanked her arm free and made a run for it, straight into one of his buddies who grabbed her into a vice-like grip, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Jake straightened from his huddled position and purposely walked towards Sam. “Bitch!” he screamed, landing a powerful backhand across her face, momentarily dazing her as a silent cry escaped her lips. Her captor dragged Sam into an abandoned building, while his gang members formed ranks around him. They threw Sam into the middle of the room and circled around her like vultures, ready to pounce on the delectable morsel of fresh meat that was heaving in front of them.

Sam pushed herself off the floor and stared back at them defiantly, her entire body trembling ... she was not about to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear. “Feisty, isn’t she ... I’m gonna love hearing you scream beneath me,” Jake said, as he entered the circle coming to a standstill in front of Sam.

Fear quaked through her body as she looked around her wildly. Jake’s hands shot out and grabbed her jacket, the zip giving way under his vicious yank sending Sam slamming into his chest. “Oh baby,” he crooned in a voice that was dripping with lust. Sam was digging her nails into his shoulders as she tried to push herself away from him. Jake stuck his tongue out and ran it from the base of her neck to her temple, leaving a soppy trail of saliva clinging to her skin while his buddies cheered wildly. Sam’s body shuddered with disgust as Jake quickly spun her around and slammed her into a pillar, pinning her to the cold concrete surface with his body, his engorged member rubbing sickeningly against Sam’s abdomen.

Michael watched with interest as the group of suit wearing men followed a woman around the derelict parts of the city. What was of greater interest was the fact that they only had two security personnel with them, and they seemed to be focused on the woman.

Michael was not the only one that noticed that fact. He saw the senior gang member, most probably the leader, watching the scene unfold too. A whispered word to one of his lackeys, and the young man was off at a sprint. Michael smiled at the audacity of those involved as he saw how the events were going to play out. The only matter left for Michael to see was how many corpses would litter the field when it was all over.

The lackey moved his way into the crowd, getting towards the middle of the ever expanding group of locals. The intruders sensed their predicament, the woman showing a combination of wisdom and foolishness in maneuvering back into the mass of suit wearing men. She increased her short term safety at the cost of her long term safety. Still, he stood back and watched.

The Lackey timed his efforts well, igniting the crowd to rush the strangers. The denizens of the area flooded forward , overwhelming their targets easily. Michael watched the woman make her escape from the carnage, separated from her security detail. He could see that she had a plan, and he thought it might have been good, if the gang leader hadn't been ready to intercept.

The valiant struggle was brief, but still went the way he thought it would. He noted where she was dragged off to, and decided that it would be more fun to watch that game than the one on the streets. He ignored the sounds of gunfire from the security team that scattered the locals. He did hear the screams of the wounded, as well as more gunfire that resulted in people being hit. He glanced over his shoulder to see the security team covering the last of the survivors into the awaiting damaged cars before they raced off, leaving six suit wearing bodies on the ground. It would be long before there were six naked corpses left for the rescue team to retrieve.

Michael stood in the doorway, smelling the the combination of testosterone, lust and unwashed bodies filling the room. He could also taste the fear coming off the woman.

"It's so much fun to watch boys at play." Everyone turned to look at him. Anger replaced everything else as a few of the gang broke off to head his way. "It's all right, fellows, I'm just here to watch. And maybe impart a lesson or two along the way." He continued to enter the room, falling into his rolling gait quickly. The approaching gang members took a step back, gaining a smile from Michael. "Good. I love this part of town. Word travels so fast. Do you all have a phone tree? 'Bob, listen buddy, be careful of the gimp. He's got a killer girlfriend and he's not afraid to use her.' Is that close to what happened?"

He walked through the remaining gangers until he was within a pace or two of the leader and the woman. He looked over her as she was still pinned to the pillar, not hiding that he was making out her body shape and potential as a sex partner.

"Such a waste," Michael shook his head. "I mean having someone as good looking as her being used by the likes of you." He felt the crowd bristle at his words. "Now, before you all get too macho here, boys, do you think I would walk in here alone if I wasn't strong enough to deal with you all?"

He let his concentration slip a little to let his true heritage be felt. The shuffle of feet told him that most of them felt it, and wanted to get away from it. The leader held his ground, mainly because of who he had trapped. But even she felt it, though not the same way as the rest.

"You had best piss off out of here, or we'll throw what's left of your corpse out the fucking door." The leader's men started to regain their lost courage with the speech of their leader.

The gang leader looked Michael right in the eyes, trying to assert his power. But all he managed to do was open his soul to Michael. Michael found what he needed in a moment. He turned his attention away from the pair near the pillar, instead addressing the rest of the gang.

"Well, there is no need for me to hang around much longer. But before I go, I shall tell you all a little tale. A tale of betrayal of trust, and the damage it does.

"Your previous leader would meet with another gang, alone. He would come back with information that you used to strengthen your position in the city. But his most trusted lieutenant brought him news of a trap to kill him. That one of these meetings would be a trap that, without backup, he would not survive."

His audience was enthralled by his words, everything else was lost to them as Michael continued his tale.

"So he took his trusted number two along. Indeed it was a trap, which the boss failed to live through, and his bodyguard only just managed to escape from. Of course, the lying bastards were given their just rewards, and your gang faded from the heights of power to being another small bunch of pissants in the crappy part of town.

"Of course, your old Boss was about to get the final piece of data he needed to blackmail a group of senior City Hall officials, and propel you all into a position of power, if your current boss hadn't blown a hole through his chest. He couldn't wait to take the reigns. In his greed, he crippled you all and removed an excellent source of blackmail material in the process."

Michael could see that he had the rest of the gang right where he wanted them. His words carried the truth, backed by the malevolence that granted him the power to see it in the leader's eyes. The words burned into their minds, washing away the lies told by their current boss.

"Shut up, you lying gimp!" He left go of the women, who sank to the floor. "You don't know anything about what happened."

"He shot your old boss. While your old boss was trying to rip out his traitorous throat after he gunned down the other gang's contact."

"That fucker was leading us up the garden path with his stupid plan. I had to -" He grabbed Michael's shirt.

"You had to betray him and your gang, lie to them and wipe out a year's worth of hard work so you could lead a gang... back into obscurity." Michael smiled as the leader let go. The leader looked nervous as the rest of the gang closed in.

On him.

"Wait! You're not going to believe this fucker over me." He started to step back, fear evident on his face. The rest of the gang were angry, and that anger was focused on their leader. The closest few lunged at him. He fought off the first two effectively, but he was piled under the rest of them as they crushed him to the floor.

Michael helped the woman up off the floor. He turned her head from the scene behind them. The leader was pinned to the floor, each limb firmly held by a member of the gang.

"We always thought you were a lying cunt!" The speaker delivered a brutal kick to the leader's groin. "Now we'll show you what we really think of you." The leader's cries for mercy became cries of pain as Michael and the woman left the building. The sounds of breaking bones were heard as they walked further from the building.

"This is not a safe place for a woman like you. Or even for men like them." Sure enough, the mangled remains of the six male companions left behind laid sprawled on the road. They all had very little, if anything left on them. It was also very clear that they were dead. "Now, given the time of day, I feel that I should extend my hospitality to you until the morning, when I will escort you out of this hell hole and back to the real world. Those poor souls over there will be picked up soon I gather, but it is not going to be safe for us to wait here so they can retrieve you as well."

He held her hand as they walked, like two good friends or lovers out for a late afternoon stroll.

"Who are you, my dear lady? And what brings you to this delightful part of our fair city?"

Sam’s entire body was trembling as her fear ebbed through every fibre of her being. She held her hands in place in a futile attempt to push him away. Sam’s violet eyes were staring calculated daggers into Jake as her breathing came in short gasps. Sam was aware that someone had entered the room but her mind was incapable of processing anything other than the menacing man that was towering over her, his eyes glinting with dark menace.

A strange energy quaked through the room. Sam’s lips parted as a soft moan escaped her mouth. Every muscle in Sam’s body relaxed as her form slumped against Jake. Sam slowly leaned her head back against the pillar as her eyes fluttered shut, her raven black hair cascading around her shoulders in sync with her movement. She slowly rolled her head to the side. Sam’s eyes flew open … their violet depths riveting on Michael.

Sam’s entire world came to a shuddering standstill.

Everything faded into the background … the only thing that existed in this universe was his tall frame, his dark hair and his dark … possessive eyes that were weaving an entrancing spell on Sam. An overpowering wave of lust and pleasure crashed into her nervous system sending ripples of pleasure coursing through Sam’s veins.

Another soft moan escaped her lips.

Sam’s mind was in a haze. People were moving around her, but everything slowed down … perceptibly … she could pick the details from the scene with her fingertips. Michael’s form was throbbing in the epicentre of the energy that quaked through the room once more … resonating in Sam’s being.

The object that kept Sam propped up against the pillar suddenly disappeared. Sam’s body limply slid down to the floor as the energy quaked around Sam again … the sheer magnitude of its power fading from her. She shook her head lightly while she blinked her eyes, looking around her wildly. It took Sam a few seconds before she could find her bearings.

The man with the dark hair, purposely made his way across to Sam, extending his hand. Sam hesitated for a second. She looked up into his dark eyes and saw no malice there. The tears that had been brimming in her eyes spilt onto her cheeks as she took his hand. He effortlessly lifted her off the floor and guided her out of the room, gently placing his index finger against her chin … directing her eyes away from the carnage that was taking place.

Sam closed her eyes in disbelief as she heard the man’s screams of anguish echo hollowly from the walls around them. They stepped onto the street, into the fading sunlight. Sam’s eyes scoured the scene outside, the results clearly scattered across the road in the aftermath of the events. Sam averted her eyes, staring up at the sky that suddenly seemed dull and grey. An anguished cry ripped from Sam’s chest as her body shuddered. She was holding on to Michael’s hand for dear life as silent tears streaked across her cheeks.

Sam barely heard what Michael said. “Anywhere will be better than here,” she whispered in a barely audible voice.

“M-my name is … Samantha Langley,” she said, having trouble finding her voice. “Sam …” she added. She shook her head lightly again trying desperately to surface her mind that was still trapped somewhere in that room. The movement sent Sam’s black tresses rustling across her back as she dabbed at her eyes with her free hand, trying to wipe the tears away. “I’m a … a civil engineer … I build roads,” she said in a small little voice. “They …,” Sam said, her arm wildly pointing in the direction of the mess behind them “brought me here to help with an urban upliftment project,” Sam explained, staring blindly ahead of her.

Sam stopped abruptly and turned to stare into Michael’s dark eyes for a moment. She looked down at the ground for a second before scrounging together the courage to look into his eyes again. “I don’t know who you are ...,” she said softly, “… but thank you for saving my life,” Sam said, nearly choking on the last word. She took a step closer to Michael and threw her arms around him in an awkward little hug.

She let go, and wiped the fresh batch of tears from her eyes as she carried on walking, staring at the ground.

Michael could feel the intensity of her emotional turmoil through the strength of her grip of his hand. Such an encounter was frightening at the best of times, but that was far from the best of times. It would be bad enough to be raped by one, but a dozen...

He listened to her replying to his question. Her voice was flat, almost like a computerized voice from a B grade sci-fi TV show. After today's events, the Urban Upliftment project would be shelved for a while. Possibly forever. Bureaucrats tend to run from violence that directly effects them. But the loss of executives from a major corporation might be a different matter. They seemed to be cut from a different bolt of cloth. They would either cut their losses and look to something else to fatten their wallets, or they would take revenge in a very direct and brutal manner. And they would target everyone in the area, regardless of their involvement.

Sam stopped so suddenly that Michael almost lost his balance. After taking a little hop or two to stop that embarrassing event, she looked straight into his eyes. He had never seen eyes that shade of blue before, closing on violet. By the time he register their actual colour, he was presented with her crown of raven hair. He got the faintest scents of her hair and the cleansing agent she used before she was looking at him again.

“I don’t know who you are ...but thank you for saving my life.”

Her soft words carried the true depths of her feelings about his actions. Then, she closed the gap, throwing her arms around him, hugging him. His memory brought forth how she reacted to him when he showed his true colours to the gang members. He could still smell some of the aftermath of that, which made his body respond automatically. The press of her soft body against his called to his soul, stirring thoughts on what he should do. But there was a time and a place for such, and neither were the case when she hugged him.

The hug was broken off with a small blush that disappeared behind the raven curtain of her hair while she looked at the ground once more. Some quick grooming and she resumed walking, though without holding his hand.

"Well, Samantha Langley, I'm Michael Davingston. I couldn't allow you to be... raped like that. Plus, they pissed me off. It is so hard to find courteous people these days. Hospitality is not what it used to be."

They continued their walk through mostly empty streets. No one was brave, or foolish enough to be out near the riot site. When the authorities returned, they would do so in force and not take too kindly to anyone they found. But the further away from the area they got, the more of the denizens could be seen. Here a young boy was dealing crack, there a hooker was on her knees doing her john. Soon, they were outside Michael's home. He noted Sam's reaction to his choice of abode but said nothing as he opened the protesting door.

Hands reached out of the dark interior, throwing him inside. Someone rushed up behind Sam, grabbing and lifting her from her feet, bringing her inside. She was dumped in a corner with two men pointing guns at her.

"So much breath too loud, and we'll shoot your bitch!"

Michael had hit the floor hard, but was rolling when the first kick was landed against his ribs. He felt bones break, but his motion meant that the worst was missed. Hands grabbed the back of his shirt, lifting him from the floor. His next sensation was one of horizontal movement towards a wall. His arms cushioned part of the blow, but he was still slightly stunned as he bounced off the wall and fell to the floor.

"This is why people pay their insurance, gimp. So bad shit doesn't befall them." The speaker lifted Michael by the collar, so he could deliver a vicious punch to Michael's jaw. His lip was split, spraying blood over the floor where his face landed. "Now, because that little bitch of yours killed Vic by fucking him, your other little number over there will go out the same way. But it'll take us a little longer to do that." He kicked Michael in the head but it was mostly a glancing blow. Michael's vision blurred and doubled. He felt the strong urge to vomit, which he couldn't do as his stomach was empty.

"You two, make sure the gimp can't move while we do his woman." Michael felt wire being twisted around his ankles. His arms were wrenched behind his back and his wrists were similarly tied. He received another punch to his face from one of those who bound him, the other kicking him in the stomach when he fell to the floor. Michael coughed up blood as he tried to focus on what was happening.

The gang leader dragged Sam out into the middle of the room, everyone laughing at her resistance. Michael closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax enough to think clearer. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Irheebhekhaaarh," he whispered.

Out of the office walked the leggy hispanic beauty, adorned in the shortest of deep red silk robes, long enough to hide her private parts from view, if the viewer was taller than five feet. Her hair looked tussled from sleep and the robe looked like it had been hastily thrown on and tied. All action in the room stopped as she sighed and licked her lips.

"Any you catch here are yours," Michael said between coughing up more blood.

The Hispanic pursed her lips, grabbing one gang member by the crotch as she advanced on another who looked straight at her shaking nervously. She dragged the other one behind her. Her held victim was sweating, his head back, eyes closed and moaning loudly. She placed a soft, tender kiss in the lips of the one rooted to the floor, while her free hand liberated his cock, and started stroking him slowly.

The rest of the gang ran.

The slightest frown creased the Hispanic woman's face as she fluidly dropped to her knees, swallowing the previously stroked male appendage to the hilt with a groan of pleasure. She ran her mouth the length of his erection until the head was almost free of her lips, before she started sucking him hard. Her head ran his full length, with a fast action. She moaned her pleasure, staring up at her partner's eyes, her eyes smiling at the look of lust, pleasure and joy on his face as she worked him with her mouth. Her hands worked on the other gang member, liberating him easily.

She lifted herself to her feet, presenting her self to the other man, who slid himself into her easily. In a feat of coordination, she bounced herself between the two men, her moans of pleasure drowned out by the men's sounds of pleasure. But the coordination between the men was lost as they started loosing control over their bodies, the woman seeming to drive them to more frenzied action. Their looks of pleasure gave way to looks of absolute terror prior to their explosive exclamations of climaxing, along with the violent rocking of her body in response.

The two corpses fell to the floor. She slowly stood, licking her lips, then rolling them. She adjusted her robe, tightening it around her generously curved body. She blew both Michael and Sam a kiss each, and walked back into the office.

"Sam. Sam! I need... the green bottle. In my backpack." He curled up in a wracking coughing fit that resulted in a fresh flow of blood from his mouth. "Please, Sam... help me."

Subconsciously, Sam’s professional eye was scrutinising the buildings around them. The one that Michael led her to made it to number one on Sam’s structurally unsafe list. One look at the broken windows and jarring cracks that patterned across the surface of the building painted an ominous picture. Sam cringed as Michael reached to open the door, the hinges screeching loudly in the silence that still hung thick in the air. She was expecting the supporting beams to collapse at any second. No words escaped her lips though as she bestowed a thankful smile on Michael … she would never want to make him feel uncomfortable in his own home.

A pair of hands appeared from the darkness beyond the door and snatched Michael away in front of Sam. She took a reflexive step back as an unsteady breath hissed past her lips. She was about to scream when a pair of arms wrapped around her, lifting her off the ground … effortlessly carrying her into the room. The arms dropped Sam in a corner, where she sunk to the floor … her eyes wide with fear … as they locked on the barrel of a nine millimetre pointed at her head.

"So much as breathe too loud, and we'll shoot you bitch!"

Sam closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to stay quiet. Her heart was thrumming at a maddening pace in her chest as she heard the horrific sound of Michael’s body being thrown about the room. Sam opened her eyes and watched in absolute horror as two men took turns at kicking Michael, his body jolting with every vicious move.

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes as she whispered soundlessly, “Please stop …”

Every sickening blow echoed in Sam’s soul like a hollow thud. She could hear the sound of shattering bones and saw Michael cough up blood as they left him motionless on the floor, tied up with wire … his dark eyes staring into space. A tortured cry wrenched from Sam’s chest as the tears made their way down her cheeks … her hands were up in the air in front of her as if she was trying to stop them … shaking uncontrollably. It was … horrible.

The gang leader that had been spitting venom suddenly turned and purposely walked across to Sam. She reflexively backed herself up against the wall as Sam’s eyes darkened with fear. “No, no, no,” she said as he roughly sunk his hands into her hair, forcefully dragging her across the floor into the middle of the room. Sam was screaming and writhing as she clawed at his arms.

He stopped … dropping Sam to the floor as her hands flailed around her trying to steady herself. Sam looked up through blurred eyes and saw a beautiful dark-haired woman with mocha-coloured skin … her eyes deep, dark pools of lust and desire. She managed to enthral two of the gang members while the rest melted out of the room, fear flashing in their eyes as they beheld the goddess in the dark red glistening robe that clung to her body like a jealous lover.

Sam scrambled to the side of the wall, pressing herself against it as she watched the scene unfold. Her breath was coming in short gasps as scared little whimpers escaped her lips. Sam averted her gaze from the provocative scene of sex and lust and found Michael … his body racked in pain. A stark contrast to the climaxing grunts of pleasure erupting from the middle of the room.

Sam slowly pushed herself up from the floor and took small little steps, slowly making her way around to where Michael was lying on the floor. She could see his chest heaving with every painful breath he took. Sam stole a glance at the threesome, and frowned slightly as she saw the look of terror in the two gang-members … their bodies dropped to the floor the next moment … lifeless. Sam stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes riveted on the Hispanic woman. She righted her clothes and slowly turned, blowing Sam and Michael each a seductive little kiss from her fingertips, before walking into the adjoining room.

Sam stared at the doorway, her mouth half open with an incredulous look on her face.

Michael’s desperate plea for help abruptly pulled Sam’s mind back to the surface as she blinked and took the last two steps to Michael’s side. Her eyes looked about the room wildly searching for his backpack, which she spotted near the door. Sam’s hands were shaking violently as she dug around searching for the green bottle that Michael mentioned.

The sun was setting fast, the room becoming darker with every passing second. In pure desperation, Sam emptied the contents on the floor. She finally found the green bottle and knelt down next to Michael. Her fingers fumbled numbly as she untwined the wire from around his wrists and ankles. A groan of pain passed his lips as Sam gently turned him around onto his back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered softly as tears ran down her cheeks. Michael’s entire body was broken and bruised. Every gentle touch that Sam made sent a jolt of pain through him.

She abruptly pulled the wooden stopper from the green bottle, the air instantly filled with a vile odour. Sam clenched her teeth together and took a deep breath as she willed herself to calm down in an attempt to still her violently shaking hands. She carefully lowered the bottle to his lips, while she gently tried to lift his head a little, to make it easier for him to swallow. The clear liquid crossed his lips as Michael gulped three mouthfuls down.

Michael erupted into a fit of coughing while his body started convulsing violently. Sam was barely aware of the fact that she was screaming his name as her hands fluttered across him anxiously.

He is dying …

After what felt like an eternity, Michael’s body finally lay still on the cold hard floor … his eyes staring at the ceiling … blindly. A tortured sob escaped her lips as she pressed her index and middle finger to his neck, trying to find a pulse. It was there … barely.

“Michael … Michael, can you hear me?” She kept asking, her fingers absently stroking through his dark hair as she knelt over him.

Michael heard Sam searching his backpack for the bottle he described. He could also feel one of his lungs getting heavier. He coughed again, more blood being expelled, making his breathing easier. He was alarmed when he heard the contents of the backpack scatter on the floor. He closed his eyes, concentrating on controlling the pain.

He became aware of Sam's proximity when he smelt the combined aroma of her natural scent, sweat, and her earlier excitement. Combined, it was rather intoxicating, and alluring to his soul. He felt his concentration start to slip, his baser, truer nature started clawing its way to the fore. He surrendered to the pain, rather than let that happen. Letting that happen would be worse than letting 'Rebecca' have her way with him. He felt Sam's hands fumbling with the wire bound around his wrists and ankles, the rush of blood a delightfully painful reminder that his extremities were still on working order. That pain ceased to be an issue when Sam rolled him onto his back. He ground his teeth against the waves of pain that spread through his tormented body initiated by the movement. The heartfelt apology from Sam eased his suffering a little, his pain addled brain missing the significance of that event.

The delicious aromas of Sam were washed out by the stomach turning stench of the healing potion. He tried to forget about the hideous ingredients that had been mixed together to make the liquid Sam was going to pour down his throat. His throat trembled in anticipation of what was going to pass down it. His nostrils flared as Sam lifted his head slightly, bringing the mouth of the bottle to his lips. With a final whimper, he drank the foul, rotting and stagnant fluid, drawing it down as quickly as he could.

The fluid reached his stomach, filling it like runny cement that started setting immediately it hit the lining of his stomach. Then it worked its magic. Most healing potions restored the body by accelerating the healing process, or bring the physical manifestation of the body into line with the spiritual form, or by other more obscure methods. But most of them are relatively pain free, and non stressing on the body. They also removed any of the side effects of the damage done to the body. This blasphemous concoction simply reversed whatever had happened, inflicting the pain on the person in the process. Except all of it happened in a matter of a second. Any any side effects still remained. So, the internal bleeding was healed, but the blood lost inside his body was still there. Likewise with the blood in his lungs.

But the pain of everything being reset to the way it was overloaded Michael's nervous system, and he tried to escape the source of the pain, but every move brought him into another source of pain. His body tried to move in several directions at once, which effectively got him nowhere apart from thrashing around on the floor. It also resulted in moving the blood in his lungs, triggering the reflex expulsion action to remove the foreign matter from them. He coughed raggedly, spewing more blood from his mouth in the midst of his fit.

But the pain passed as quickly as it started, but he was exhausted by the brutal effects of the healing potion. He eyes were staring at the ceiling, his mind fascinated by the patterns the cracks were making. His breathing was slow, and rattled noisily through his gaping mouth. He would live, but be as sick as a dog for a few days at least.

He felt the gentle touch of a hand running through his sweat laden hair. He eyes slowly regained focus, pulling away from the patterns and found those beautiful, violet-blue eyes staring down at him.

“Michael … Michael, can you hear me?”

He managed the smallest of smiles before swallowing loudly and painfully. He drew a deeper breath with a wince.

"Yes, Sam," he wheezed, "I can hear you. Thank you." He coughed, rolling onto his side, spitting out more blood. He took a couple of deep breaths. "Thank you for saving my life, Sam. I normally only hurt that much after a session of great sex with about five women, or if I let my guard down with Rebecca."

The pallor of his skin was returning to normal, and Michael pushed himself off the floor into a sitting position, looking at his clothing with an expression of disgust. Torn, bloodied and smelling of other bodily fluids. Another brief coughing fit saw him spit out a little more red phlegm.

"I need to teach them a lesson, a real lesson. And not just them. Any other of the stupid fuckers that think I'm easy pickings." He looked over at Sam, seeming to remember that she was in the room with him. "I'm sorry, Sam, that you got caught up in all of this. I promise that for the rest of the night you'll be safe here with me." He slowly dragged himself to his feet, his body fully capable of movement thanks to the potion. He extended a hand to Sam and helped her to her feet. Holding her hand, he led her into the office area which he had made his bedroom. There was a serviceable double bed that was clean but looked like it had been slept in recently.

"You lie down, Sam. You've had a rough day, and you need the rest." He peeled off the dirty shirt, exposing a lean, well toned torso. Sam could see the outlines of his muscles easily, without looking like a professional body builder. He walked over to a sink, pouring some water into it from a bucket below it. He washed his face and arms, removing the grime of the recent encounter from them.

Michael’s dark eyes finally focussed on Sam’s blue depths after what felt like an eternity. His breathing was ragged and he looked drained. She sighed with relief when he finally spoke. He gave Sam a wan little smile before his features constricted in pain as he swallowed.

Michael rolled onto his side and erupted into another fit of coughing, spitting out more blood. Sam’s eyes roamed over him worriedly as she placed her hand on his shoulder and gently tried to soothe his pain.

"Thank you for saving my life, Sam. I normally only hurt that much after a session of great sex with about five women, or if I let my guard down with Rebecca."

A confused little frown crept across Sam’s brow at his words as her eyes filled with disbelief. Five women?? Her mind asked in an incredulous tone. Rebecca? Sam had the uncomfortable feeling he was referring to the Hispanic beauty that she had seen in action a little earlier. Sam straightened her back and stole a glance at the door. It was still open. She considered bidding Michael a fond farewell and taking her chances trying to get home … it was however dark and Sam was not foolish enough to try and walk around in an unfamiliar gangster-riddled neighbourhood at night. Regardless of what Michael did in his spare time, her conscience would not let her leave him here alone when he was clearly injured. She cringed slightly at the thought of five women and then abruptly pushed the thought out of her mind.

She looked back at Michael as he sat up, his chest wheezing as he erupted into another coughing fit, spitting out more blood. Her eyes found the green glass bottle that lay forgotten on the floor. She wondered what it was … Michael seemed much better … despite the coughing fits. Another curious little frown furrowed across Sam’s forehead.

If Sam had her doubts about Michael before, his threat to do grievous bodily harm to any of the stupid fuckers who thought he was easy pickings, had her eyes widen in shock. Sam was suddenly not sure whether she should trust Michael at all. He climbed to his feet and offered his hand. Sam looked at his hand for a moment, not sure if she even wanted to touch him. With a little trepidation she placed her hand in his as he helped her to her feet. He held her hand though, and led her to the adjacent room.

Sam made a scared little whimpering sound, expecting to find the Hispanic woman in there. She almost planted her feet and refused to move forward when Michael half pulled her around the corner into an empty room. Well apart from an unmade double bed … Sam looked around the room in confusion. There was no door. Even the windows were too small for any human to fit through, and yet she saw her walk in here with her own eyes. She must have slipped out while I was busy helping Michael, Sam’s mind offered a plausible explanation.

Sam walked to the bed and stared down at it as she heard him fill the basin with water. She glanced over to Michael and noticed that he had taken his shirt off. She took a deep breath of surprise … his chest had no marks on it, no injuries … no bruises. Sam rustled her fingers through her hair agitatedly. This was frustrating. Nothing made sense.

Michael was right, she felt drained … and sleep sounded like a welcoming proposition. However, she was not sure if she could trust Michael, she was petrified of a Hispanic woman walking back through the door … not to mention a bunch of gangsters who had both of them in their sights. Sam backed up against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs as she placed her chin on her knees, her eyes never leaving Michael.

She would just sit here for a little bit … just to rest. She wanted to ask Michael all the questions that were flying around in her mind … but what if she angered him? Worse, he threw her out? Sam blinked her eyes tiredly, before they closed … her breathing levelling out.

Michael toweled himself off using what parts of his shirt that were not covered in filth. He turned back to see Sam backing away from him, walking into the wall. She slowly sank to the floor, wrapping her arms about legs. Her head rested on her knees, her eyes following him as he moved about. Michael checked his trousers, finding them to not be in need of cleaning or replacement. He had a replacement shirt which he found and put on.

He looked back at Sam and saw that she was deep asleep. He walked over to her, and with a bit of awkwardness, he managed to scoop her up into his arms. His breathing rattled as he staggered under her weight. But he managed to make it to the bed without dropping her or falling over. With a large degree of gentleness, he laid her on the bed, pulling the bed covers up over her. His hand went to her forehead, brushing some loose strands of her hair away from her face. She murmured quietly, shifting slightly, getting more comfortable in the bed.

He wandered out into the main room of his home, looking at the two dead men lying on the floor. With a sigh, he dragged the corpses out the door, dumping them on the road. Several of the locals noticed him taking out the garbage. Once done, he stood deep in the shadows of the main room, watching the bodies. As he knew would happen, some of the bolder locals came to investigate, in case there was anything of value to relieve them of. What did catch his interest was one middle aged man who investigated the bodies, rather than what they had. He even went as far as checking their flaccid penises, smelling the substance coating them. Even in the low light levels, Michael saw the man's face pale and look in his direction. Without much pause, the man got up and ran back to wherever he felt safe.

Michael spent time cleaning up. He put the spilled contents of the backpack back. He wiped up the pools of blood on the floor. During that time, he coughed up another brownish red lump from his lungs, sending it flying out the front door. He restored all of his other possessions to their rightful places before sitting down to rest. The efforts of the day had been more draining that he first thought. He leant his head back against the wall thinking of what had happened.


The presence of another in the room snapped him back into wakefulness. He would barely make out the form in the darkness in front of him, but whoever it was stood still, looking at him. He couldn't see their face, but he knew that he was being looked at. Michael stood up quickly, ignoring the rattle his movement brought to his breathing.

"What? No greetings for me?"

Michael stopped cold. 'How could he be here?' "Well, it is an unexpected visit. Had I known, I would have been better prepared. What brings you here?"

"For starters, I'm not here. No one has called me, have they? You would have felt it."

"Indeed, I would have. But that still doesn't explain... this." Michael pointed to the opaque form his could now barely see. A low chuckle emanated from the body.

"You're right, it doesn't. But whenever the mood strikes me, I can visit you in this manner. Since we share such a special bond." The body started walking to the room where Sam slept. Michael hurried to catch up, eventually standing beside the visitor as they looked upon the sleeping form of Sam.

"She is beautiful, Michael. I approve of your choice in women."

"Thank you." He could now clearly make out the guise that the visitor wanted to present. As always, he was a handsome, masculine, well groomed example of the ideal human male. He was dressed in a body hugging t-shirt that did nothing to hide the physique underneath, and baggy shorts that fell to his knees. Finally, open sandals were on his feet. Michael shook his head at the choice of clothing.

"When will you give her to me?"

"I'm not."

"You're not?!? Are you up to something?"

"Always."

The visitor turned to face Michael, grinning mischievously. "And you're not going to tell me?"

"You don't tell me what you're up to, so why should I?"

"Because I am your Master!" The visitor's voice lost it's levity. "A servant does not question their Master."

"No, a servant would not, Father. Which is why I can." Michael's Father looked at him angrily. "You yourself have constantly reminded me that our... relationship is different to the rest. That I am your son. Well, Father, I am your son in every respect."

"So I see. Well, Son, your Father is unhappy with the respect you have not been showing."

"Respect I have not been showing?"

"Yes. When was the last time you gave me a sign of your love and devotion to your Father? There are somethings that must be done, my Son."

"Indeed, Father, but you have a steady supply of signs of devotion from your Son. Or have you forgotten that too?"

"They are not from my son though. Not from his very hands. You will give me such a gift, or I will remove my blessings from you. And I want her." He pointed at Sam.

"No. You're not getting her. I have plans for her, and giving her to you are not included anywhere. Giving her to you would ruin those plans.

"Now, removing your 'blessings', Father. Go ahead, remove them. I know many of your closer brothers and sisters would happily 'bless' me to allow them the pleasure of waving me under your nose. Not to mention a few of your more distant brethren have approached me too. So, if this means so much to you, then remove your blessings and I will become a servant of another."

He saw the other presence bristle at his words, knowing that he spoke truthfully about what would happen to them if the threat was carried through. Michael walked out of the room, his father following him. They stood in the middle of the room staring at each other.

"If she is so important to you, then you had best make sure that nothing happens to her."

"I am sure that you and I will both make sure that nothing bad happens to her, Father. Wont we? Lest that special bond is broken."

"Indeed," he growled. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, Son."

"Good. Hopefully by the time it's over, you'll learn something, Father."

Michael watched as the opaque body of his Father vanish. Michael felt the tension with him disappear too. The fact that his spiritual father could manifest himself, to a degree, in his presence without being summoned was a new, and disturbing development. But the one thing that his Father's arrival did was give him a renewed burst of energy.

For the rest of the night, Michael paced the room, pausing only to cough up more of the residual blood in his lungs, while he thought about exactly what he was going to do with Samantha Langley.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at the cracked ceiling for a moment as her mind slowly started surfacing. She was idly considering the structural safety of the roof ... thinking that it looked dangerous. She half lifted herself up on her elbow peering at the ceiling more intently, when Michael’s pacing form appeared from the adjacent room in her peripheral vision.

Sam nearly jumped out of the bed with fright.

Reality sinking in, she slumped back down against the pillows laughing at herself. She had never been a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. It took Sam quite a while before her thoughts were fully lucid. “Morning Michael,” she said with laughter still dancing in her eyes, as she climbed out of bed, throwing her arms in the air as she stretched around on her tippy toes for a moment while yawning lazily.

“Good morning, Sam,” Michael said. She could hear his footsteps falling methodically on the floor in the front room.

Sam looked back at the bed with a puzzled little frown creeping across her brow ... she was sure she was sitting against the wall ... she half lifted her hand absently pointing at the wall. She looked back at Michael with a curious expression ... her eyes softening perceptibly.

She walked over to the sink, and poured some water into it. Sam shrugged out of her sleeveless Jacket and stared at the zip that hung haphazardly from the jacket. Her eyes clouded over for a moment before she shook her head slightly, willing the memories away. The jacket came in quite handy as she used it to wash her face, neck and shoulders. Sam pulled her sleeves up and gently wiped down her arms before she stared at her own reflection for a moment. She looked tired even to herself. She pushed herself away from the sink and was combing her fingers through her hair as she idly made her way through the doorway. She found a beam of sunlight to stand in while she watched Michael pace near the front door. He seemed worried ... almost edgy.

Sam followed his movements, her eyes resting on his right leg. She had noted yesterday that he walked with a bit of difficulty. Now that she was actually watching him move, the movement seemed more pronounced than what she remembered. Sam was too polite to pry ... she could see it was not a new injury of any kind. It must be the result of an old injury or something similar.

The deafening silence was periodically interrupted by the sound of Michael’s shuffling feet. She cleared her throat slightly as she folded her arms around her waist. From the looks of it, Michael had been pacing for quite some time, as there was a definite path where the dirt on the floor had been ‘stepped’ aside. “Did you sleep well?” Sam asked as she tilted her head to the side, trying to gauge his expression.

“No, actually ... I did not sleep for long last night. And you?” Michael said, as he continued walking ... his mind a million miles away.
Ignoring his question, Sam’s expression became a little worried. “Is something wrong, Michael?” she asked softly.

Michael stopped as he chuckled slightly, “Always. It is nothing I can’t handle,” he said absently, clearly not wanting to elaborate on it. “I need to get you back to civilisation. People will be worried about you by now,” he said.

Sam nodded to his words, staring out of the window with a lost little expression lingering on her features. She was not sure how true that statement was. She had no family and as far as her new employer was concerned, her body could be lying dead and mangled somewhere on a pavement. She should have trusted her instincts ... she knew security was a risk. She never dreamed that things would get out of hand so badly.

Forcing her thoughts back to the room and the conversation, she absently gazed into his dark eyes. “I suppose they will,” she answered in a monotonous tone as her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. “Should we grab something to eat along the way?” she asked a little over brightly, suddenly realising that her tummy was gnawing at her with discontented growls.

“I know a place where we can get some decent food. It should be safe enough out there now,” Michael said, as he opened the door and stepped out into the street, waiting for Sam to follow. She crossed the room and stepped through the doorway, the sight of two dead bodies greeting her. They were completely stripped ... their greyish colourless skin exposed to the morning sun, as their eyes stared blindly into the sky.

Sam’s stomach churned as her hand flew to her mouth. She had to turn away quickly, shock etched in her eyes as she coughed, trying to stop the bile that was rising in her throat.

Michael was so used to the scenes that turned Sam's stomach that he initially wondered what was wrong. He gently placed an arm around her, guiding her down the street, putting her between him and the dead gang members. Whenever she looked at him in those initial minutes, he smiled to her, working at setting her at ease. By the end of the block, he removed his arm, but kept close to her.

He turned his attentions to the the world around him. With remarkable ease he saw all the various sinful acts going on within plain sight. Drug deals, beatings, robberies, extortion, sex, and even a murder. But what he was also aware of was that those not engaged in any other activities were watching him like prey watching the predator as it moved in their midst. He saw the common gang soldiers readying weapons in case of need, but making sure that they never made any sudden moves. A couple of streetwalkers came around the block, but their initial reactions of surprise morphed into ones of more pleasant, even sensual nature. Smiles became genuine, the walks more flowing and suggestive of their professional capabilities. Hands reached out to glide over Michael's chest, arm and shoulder as they passed the two. Michael looked over his shoulder, his grin predatory and a glint in his eye that suggested naughtiness that the two working women hadn't thought of or experienced.

"Never a more honest creature you shall meet." He continued the walk with Sam, not saying anything else until they left the slum parts of the city. He noticed that the people changed their mode of dress, the Church's influence stronger in the more affluent parts of the city. Michael's eyes narrowed as he noticed that every Police Officer pairing he saw was partnered with a Inquisitor. In a few areas, there were no Police Officers at all, only Inquisitors. He turned his attention away from the known sources of discordance in his life to the unknown one at his side.

"Do you have any ideas of what you'll be doing today? Once you get back to where you belong."

"I have no idea," Sam said, looking a little lost as she kept her focus generally forward. "I suppose I'll need a day or two to gather my thoughts." Sam looked up at Michael, a warm smile restoring some life to her face.

"Of course. Given what you've been through yesterday. I must admit that you have held up well. I have know a few women who have shattered by such events." 'Mainly because the lesser events leading up to the gang rape shattered them first.'

The warm smile faltered, slightly, as she once more focused herself on what was in front of her. Her mouth had started to form the first word in her response, but whatever she was going to say was never spoken. Michael noted her reaction, deciding some time later would be the best to follow up on that.

The rest of the walk was spent quietly. Michael noting the number of people who took exception to the manner of Sam's attire, in particular the exposed face. Few women, most of them elder and firmly fixed in their fashion ways, were not attired in Church recommended attire. While it was only recommended, the social pressure to conform was substantial and few people went against those recommendations. The looks went from the subtle to the outright offended. Michael didn't care about the reactions and from he saw of Sam, she didn't care either.

"Well, start thinking about what you'd like for breakfast, because we'll be there in a few minutes." Michael had spotted the entrance to the food court where he was planning on them having breakfast. Already the first of numerous waves of people on the way to work were streaming out the doors into the morning light. Michael heard a light laugh and looked over to see a mischievous little smile on her lips.

"Everything on the menu," she pronounced. "I'm starving!"

Michael led Sam to the mall entrance, waiting for the last wave of commuters to pass. These people didn't take any notice of either of them as they squeezed through the doors. When there was space, the two walked through and past a long line of food vendors, most of which were not open. But the aromas coming from one vendor got Michael's mouth watering.

"Hmmm... so what to order. Oh, I'll have the lot. By two thanks." The girl behind the counter was about to confirm the order when Michael cut in. "Yes, I know how much food that will be, but my friend and I are very hungry. And two coffees as well."

He reached in to grab some money to pay for the order, but Sam's hand rested on his arm, just above the wrist. "No, this one is on me. It's the least I can do for saving my life." She looked into his eyes, never wavering for what felt like an eternity. With a smile, he allowed her to pay for the food.

"You find us a place to sit then, Sam. I'll bring the food over when it's ready." He watched Sam as she walked away. He was able to see past the clothing, and was pleased at the shape of her body. His mind wandered to what she could do with it. Before his mind to carry those thoughts too much further, the food arrived. The tray was loaded with two heaped plates of steaming hot food, plus two cups of coffee. He lifted the tray, and started walking over to where Sam was sitting. Even with his rolling gait, the tray never moved from it's place above the floor. When the tray was placed on the table, nothing had moved on either plate. He handed over one plate to Sam, before taking his own and pushing the tray to one side. He sat with an audible sigh of relief.

"Bon appetite, madmoiselle"

"Monsieur." She inclined her head slightly, another smile warming her face.

Both plates are piled with sausages, bacon, eggs, hash brown, baked beans, tomato and toast. The two started eating with gusto, though Sam worked through her meal faster than Michael was. Throughout the meal, Michael found himself looking at Sam. His Father's insistence on having Sam was the main reason for denying him, at first at least. Until he could find out how best to leverage the deal to favour him greater. Plus, he knew that it annoyed his Father how Michael would do things, exploiting his Father's weaknesses in understanding.

"Will you be ok getting to where you need to go from here?"

"Come with me?" Sam asked suddenly, purposefully. "I can't let you go back there." Sam waved her fork in the general direction of where they had come from.

Michael partially choked on a mouthful of food at her question. He didn't see that one coming. He put his utensils down, leaning back in his chair. The surprise he felt was clearly evident on his face until his thoughts marshaled themselves.

"You can't let me go back there?" The question was punctuated with a slight laugh. "What makes you think that?"

"Michael," she said, her food forgotten for the moment. "I've lost ... you're not going back there."

Michael saw the determined look in her eyes, choosing to ignore it as the first stirrings of anger were felt at her demands of him.

"You've lost? You've lost what, Sam?" His expression hardened slightly. "What makes you think you can tell me where I can go?"

Sam looked away, avoiding his eyes. She stared into space for a moment, a multitude of emotions running across her face. After they passed, and she restored herself to a semblance of control, she turned her gaze back to him.

"Please Michael ... don't ask me that. Please just come with me ...," she said in a broken little voice.

Michael frowned at her request. His curiosity was flaring, demanding to know what was so important. Sam was clearly uncomfortable about her reasons for the request, and that, more than anything else, alarmed him and made him wary.

Before he could do anything, a tall, dark haired man in a conservative suit approached the table. He nodded to the two occupants.

"Sire, Miss Langley." Andrew spoke quickly. "I have been looking for you, Miss Langley. Mister Peterson has been calling in everyone he could think of to try and find you. He will be glad to know you're fine.

"May I sit with you while you finish your meal?"

Sam was instantly annoyed at Andrew’s arrival. She could also see a little black thundercloud hovering above Michael’s head as he frowned at her with questions in his eyes. “Please sit down Andrew,” Sam said in a clipped voice as she absently picked at the rest of her breakfast.

The last thing she wanted right now was to be cross questioned by both parties present at the table. Sam ignored them both – point blank. Poor Andrew was shifting his weight uncomfortably atop his chair every few seconds while Michael finished eating his breakfast. Sam felt emotional and vulnerable at the moment ... both of which she detested, she was in no frame of mind to elaborate on anything.

She waited until Michael finished his breakfast before pushing her plate aside, slapping on an overly bright smile she looked at Michael. “Thank you, that was lovely.” Sam levelled her gaze on Andrew. “Shall we get going?”

Andrew pushed his chair out and stood up, Sam following suit as she stopped for a moment, her eyes finding Michael’s dark depths. She gazed at him with a pleading look in her eyes. “You’re coming with us?” she asked, giving him a choice. From the corner of her eye, she could see the puzzled look on Andrew’s face at her question.

Michael sat back in his chair and levelled a calculating gaze on Sam. He was mentally chewing over everything that Sam had said before he nodded in agreement.

Sam sighed with relief as her smile finally reached her eyes. They made their way to Andrew’s car as he whisked them off to the tall office building of ‘Peterson & Thorpe Enterprises’. Everyone was relieved to see her. Sam had quite a few people walk up to her and pull her into a hug, which she awkwardly allowed like a little stick figure. Sam was not used to having people so close to her, it made her uncomfortable. An amused little smile rested on Michael’s face as he observed, a few curious eyes following him around as he walked next to Sam. They finally made it up to David Peterson’s office and sat in his reception area waiting. David’s painstakingly professional receptionist even gave Sam a warm hug.

Instead of calling Sam into his office, David appeared in the doorway, walked over and unceremoniously pulled Sam out of her chair into a bear hug. “I am so glad to see you, Sam,” he said sincerely. “And who may this be?” he asked, looking at Michael curiously.

“This is the man who saved my life, Michael Davingston. Michael, this is David Peterson,” Sam said as she gave Michael a warm smile.
Dave said absolutely nothing, as he pulled Michael out of his chair and hugged him the same way he had hugged Sam. “Thank you,” was all that Dave said as his eyes gleamed with heartfelt appreciation at the complete stranger. Dave looked back at Sam. “What happened yesterday was a tragedy and amounted to a great loss for the company. We will be having a memorial service on Thursday and we will be doing a full debriefing session next week Monday along with the authorities. But for now, I want you to go home Sam, and take as much time as you need,” Dave said, looking at Sam’s pale features worriedly.

“Thank you David, don’t worry about me ... I’m fine,” Sam said, as she glanced at Michael.
“I was exceedingly worried what this would do to you ...,” Dave started saying. Sam’s eyes shot to him as she abruptly interrupted him with a curt, “I’m fine, Dave.” David took a step back and nodded his head, not wanting to push the issue.

Sam was handed the keys to her company car that she’d be driving for the six months that she was contracted to Peterson & Thorpe Enterprises and then she drove them to the small apartment that she was calling ‘home’ for the duration of her stay. “Please make yourself at home,” she said, as she darted in and grabbed her luggage that was still standing in the living room and pushed it into what looked like the main bedroom.

“It seems I have the week off,” Sam said as she absently walked into the kitchen. She rummaged through the cupboards and found the kitchen stocked with the basics, before she switched the kettle on. “I’m making some coffee,” she said, remembering the way he had his coffee that morning. “I haven’t been here yet,” Sam added apologetically, “so we can both explore the place a little,” she said grinning at Michael. A relieved little sigh escaped Sam’s lips as she spotted Michael inspecting the lounge. He was safe here ... that was all that mattered.

Sam fished two mugs from the cupboard and set it out on the counter, adding sugar. Her movements became slower and slower until she stopped in mid air, staring at the kettle. Sam looked like a marble statue with a sugar pot candidly added to the effect. After a moment Sam pulled herself out of her silent reverie and absently ran her fingers across her forehead, her hand visibly trembling. You are fine Sam ... this has nothing to do with it, she kept telling herself.

Sam finished stirring the coffee and walked back into the lounge, handing Michael his mug before she stood next to him staring out the window. They actually had a good view from up here of the suburb they came from this morning.

Both were lost in their own thoughts.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes as he stood at the window. He was at a loss as to why he was standing there, in Sam's apartment, having been dragged through her office, then driven there by Sam herself. Having more or less been ordered to go with her. By her no less.

She walked to his side, handing him a coffee, which he took from her without looking at her or at the coffee either. His gaze was drawn to where he had called home less than 24 hours earlier. What started out as a mere case of watching a "spectator sport", ended up with his life entwined with hers. By pure chance, he managed to save her from two possible gang rapes, as well as prevented her from being given over to his Father. Fate rarely just gave someone luck like that, there had to be a reason.

He sipped his coffee, letting himself 'feel her presence'. The All Mighty had, from time to time, blessed a select few with a little more than most people who believed. Those fortunate few Believed. Oddly enough, the embodiment of the All Mighty's will on Earth was responsible for the deaths of more of the Believers than anything else. Miracles by these people was viewed as works of the Fallen, and there was only one punishment for that.

The Flame.

Michael waited for Sam to move on, exploring her new home. He took out his cell phone. He was still trying to get used to most of the wonders of the modern age, but the cell phone was one that he grasped very quickly. He quickly typed up a message, sending to a number that he had memorized.

Send Cahill to cnr of 44 & Truman within 30 mins. MD.

The phone slide back into his pant pocket as he finished his coffee. He walked to the kitchen, wondering who was behind this. There was someone at play, he could feel it now. But who and why were beyond his ability to determine. If it was one high up the ranks of either side, it would be hard to determine their game plan without some serious brain bending thinking.

"Why bend my own brain when I can bend someone elses?" He put the mug in the sink, then went looking for Sam. He found her in the master bedroom, just dropping down onto the bed from a sitting position. She looked relaxed, and he had a slight smile at the thought that she could feel that relaxed. He was jealous of her for that. A small voice within him wanted to punish her for it, but he ignored it.

"Sam. I've got to go and get my possessions. I don't have much, but the few things I have I am rather attached to. Now, before you get up, I'll get out there by myself. I wont put you back there so soon. I wont be long." He gave her a look that clearly said he would not brook any arguments from her. To his pleasure, she didn't argue.

He took his time walking to the corner of 44th & Truman, getting there with 18 minutes to spare. Two minutes later, a black sedan pulled up, and the rear passenger side door opened. Michael got himself settled in the seat, sighing in relief.

"Take me to Calvin, near the corner of Seaview."

"Are you sure, Sire?" He turned to look at his passenger, clearly nervous. Michael's return look was enough for Andrew, and he started driving to the requested destination. The remainder of the trip was quiet, expect for when Michael told Andrew to stop. Together the two men got out of the car. Michael peered over his shoulder at the vehicle, snorting through his nose and smiling.

"Irheebhekhaaarh," he whispered.

Wearing her tank top, and black mini skirt, Rebbecca exited the building, pausing when she saw Andrew. Her eyes widened slightly before her gaze slowly caressed his entire body from his crown to his feet, and then worked her way back up again, slowing when she saw the bulge. Her eyes reached his again, her tongue delicately brushing her top lip, as her gaze flicked to Michael. Michael's arm snapped out to stop Andrew from approaching.

"No, my pet. He is not for you." Rebbecca pouted in disappointment as she moved out of the doorway. "But you can keep an eye on the car for us. I'm sure that someone will be stupid enough to try and do something to it. If they do..." Michael gripped Andrew's arm, gripping it painfully as he led his driver into the building. As they passed her, she trailed her hand over Andrew's cheek and chin, blowing him a kiss over her shoulder as she moved to the car. With a sigh, she sat herself on the hood of the sedan, and started to paint her toenails.

Michael gathered all of his possessions that he wanted to keep, packing them into his backpack. Andrew hovered in the middle of the room, his eyes continually flicked to the front door.

"I wouldn't if I were you, Andrew. It's not your destiny to be with her. At least not as it stands. Though, another mistake like when you found Miss Langley, and it just might be. You might think it's a great way to go, but it's not."

Andrew swallowed loudly, and turned his back to the door and squeezed his eyes closed.

Michael soon had everything he needed, and he tapped Andrew on the shoulder as he walked to the door. Michael stepped through, chuckling at the sight before him. Two young men were standing in awe in front of Rebbecca as she casually continued to paint her toenails, lifting the foot effortlessly to softly blow on the wet lacquer.

"Come here, my pet." She slid off the hood, both men falling over themselves to help her. She gave both of them quick pecks on the cheek before skipping over to Michael, her hands clasped behind her back. She came to a stop before him with a little hop, her chin on her chest, looking at him through her lashes. Andrew groaned behind Michael. Michael gripped her chin hard, yanking her face up so they looked at each other. He pulled her into a kiss. A rough, intense kiss. Rebbecca's arms wrapped around his neck as she crushed her body against his, grinding her hips against his. They traded leadership of the kiss, one party dictating the terms to the other.

Then Rebbecca molded her body to his, wrapping one of her legs around him, pulling herself onto Michael to make sure that there was nothing between them apart from their clothing. She started moaning with delight that had the other three men drifting closer to the action, trying to see where and how they could join in.

Michael pulled her away from him by taking a handful of her hair, and exposing her throat. He bit her, hard on the muscle on the left side on her neck. Her squeal of pleasure caused one of the two younger men to cry out in a similar aroused state, Michael knowing that he had cum in his pants. Michael's teeth clamped down on the flesh as it was released. When he let her stand, she was decorated with a large bright red mark.

"Thank you, my pet." He sent her on her way with a loud slap on her arse which brought forth another cry of delight. She skipped into the building, the other two young men racing in after her. "Come on, Andrew. She tends to get greedy after she's had her fun." Andrew ran to the car, jumping in and starting the engine straight away. As soon as the door as closed behind Michael, Andrew was off.

"Andrew," Michael spoke after they left the slum area, "make sure word is spread that I want the fullest discretion from everyone. No failures will be tolerated, and anyone lying about their fuckups will be given a very unpleasant send off."

"Yes, Sire. I'll make sure everyone knows. They will be no more fuck ups, Sire."

"Last warning, Andrew, no one calls me Sire again, until I say so."

"Yes, Sir." Andrew made it clear he said 'Sir'.

Andrew dropped Michael off at the same place he was initially picked up from. The walk was easier on the way back than on the way out. He hoped that his people would keep the proper levels of discretion, given the Church presence in the city. He was starting to see links, ties and conspiracies everywhere. His burgeoning paranoia made him laugh, attracting a few stares from people fearing he was some street maniac.

He was let through by the doorman to the apartment block with a smile and a polite nod from the uniform wearing man. Michael nodded in return making his way to the elevator. Michael was lost in his thoughts again when the door opened, and he walked in. He pushed the button for the floor of Sam's apartment, completely oblivious to the business woman standing behind him. As the elevator slowly climbed, the woman's veil started to billow, growing more violent with each passing floor. Her eyes narrowed lazily as she leaned back against the elevator wall. Her bag fell from fingers that desired to clutch other things as both hands roughly ran up her torso, cupping her breasts through her ornate blazer. Within two floors, it was unbuttoned, as she roughly gripped her breasts, twisting her nipples through the layers of fabric and desperately keeping her sounds of pleasure from escaping her lips.

The arrival at the floor of Sam's apartment snapped Michael back from his thoughts, and brought his concentration back as well. As he stepped out of the elevator, the woman quickly started buttoning up her blazer as the doors closed behind him. Michael knocked on the door, Sam opening it soon after.

"Thank you," Michael smiled as he limped into her apartment. He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the sofa, and sat down. He frowned a little as he looked over at Sam. "I have to ask this. Why? Why did you insist I come along with you?" He leaned forward a little, fixing her with an unwavering gaze. "And what exactly have you lost, Samantha Langley? What have you lost that has hurt you so deeply?"

Sam aimlessly stared at the streets below, her mind conjuring haunting memories of the night before. She stole a glance at Michael, her brow furrowing in a frown at his miraculous recovery. She snapped her eyes back to the streets as dark memories danced across her mind. Sam shook her head … willing them away.

She quickly stepped away from the window and decided to keep her mind occupied. She walked into the spare bedroom and poked around. The room was decorated with a distinctive ‘sea’ theme: white shells scattered across the shelves, blue curtains and paintings of beaches adorning the walls. Sam instantly loved the room … she had always been drawn to the ocean and its meditative qualities.

Sam wandered back to the main bedroom, her eyes inspecting it. The warm ember colours made it feel homey. Sam had always loved warm colours … reds, oranges, deep browns, yellows. She let her fingertips trail across her luggage as she made her way to the bed. She sat down … standing up quickly and then bouncing back down to test the bed. It felt nice and soft, but still firm … she smiled at her own paradoxal thinking. She threw herself back onto the bed, her hair flailing across the duvet as she absently stared at the ceiling.

No cracks … Sam sighed with relief.

Michael stepped into the room and ‘informed’ her that he was going back to fetch his belongings. Sam immediately sat up as protest and fear played across her expressive features. He did not give her a chance to argue before he disappeared out the door. Sam hastily got up and stared at the door through which he had just disappeared … a dumbstruck look in her eyes. She stood there for a moment before she walked back to the main bedroom, deciding to unpack her luggage.

That took five minutes.

Sam paced up and down in front of the front door before throwing her hands in the air in frustration and stomping off to the adjacent bathroom in the main bedroom. She stripped her clothes off and opened the hot water tap of the shower, letting the heat steam up the little room. She gingerly stepped into the shower, letting the water stream across her hair transforming it into glistening black streaks across her back. Sam leaned forward, both hands bracing either side of the water regulator as she let the water stream over her.

Her eyes snapped open again, as dark images materialised in her mind again. “Sam … get a grip,” she whispered softly to herself. She reached up, grabbed her shower sponge, and deposited a liberal helping of shower gel in it, letting the fresh herbal fragrance fill the air. She ignored her hands that were trembling slightly, letting them drift across her body … coating her skin in a white sheen of bubbles. She rinsed the sponge and leaned forward, letting the water wash the lather from her body.

Sam finally stepped out after standing in the shower … motionless … for a few minutes. She towelled herself dry and rustled the towel through her hair. She stood up and flicked her hair back, trailing her fingers through the raven tresses to put them back in place. Sam absently pulled on a comfortable tracksuit and made her way back to the living room. She was staring out the window … her eyes haunted by memories.

A sharp knock at the door startled her from her reverie as Sam quickly turned and half ran to it … opening it as quick as she could. She was relieved to see Michael. A smile lingered on her lips … all the worry draining from her features.

Michael unceremoniously dropped his backpack on the floor, next to the couch. Sam cocked her one eyebrow in the air and picked it up, quickly depositing it in the spare bedroom. "I have to ask this. Why? Why did you insist I come along with you?" Michael’s question rung out behind her as Sam turned and made her way back to the lounge, leaning against the wall as she gazed into Michael’s unwavering eyes, speculatively.

“I don’t ever want to see you get hurt again,” she said honestly. “I don’t think I can bare that,” she added as her eyes dwindled back to the window, staring at it for a moment. Sam snapped her eyes down to the floor before finding Michael’s dark probing gaze again. “At least here, I know you are safe … well, relatively safe,” she corrected herself. “I know it is probably not much, but it is the least I can do,” she said, giving him an appreciative glance.

"And what exactly have you lost, Samantha Langley? What have you lost that has hurt you so deeply?" Michael asked. Sam’s entire expression sobered as a haunted look flitted across her face. “Absolutely nothing that I wish to discuss with you,” she said sternly, her voice possibly coming across harsher than she had intended. Sam abruptly turned and made her way back into the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Sam asked cheerfully as she blindly stared at the cupboard in front of her. "I hope you like the spare bedroom," Sam added absently as she opened the grocery cupboard, inspecting its contents.

Sam's voice rebounded off the back of the pantry, which muffled it a little.

“Are you hungry? I hope you like the spare bedroom.”

"Yes, actually, I am a little hungry, Sam."

Her answer to his first question caught him completely off guard. “I don’t ever want to see you get hurt again. I don’t think I can bare that.”

'Why? What is it you want from me? What goal of yours do I serve?' He shook his head. Maybe she didn't want to get ahead in the world because of him. She didn't know who he was. Nor what he was. Still, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as he tried to think about other options for what she said.

“At least here, I know you are safe … well, relatively safe. I know it is probably not much, but it is the least I can do.” Those words didn't mean much to him as such, but it was how she delivered them. The way she looked at him spoke of some form of desire, but it wasn't lust. That again made him curious, and slightly nervous.

What she had lost pained her deeply, and her rejection of his question told him more than she would guess. But he could sense that it all tied together.

Michael stood up, and limped over to where Sam remained stationary. He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling the stiffness in the muscles. His thumbs and fingers started to work the 'soft' tissue of her shoulders and neck. Numerous knots were found and systematically dealt with. First the neck, then the shoulders were loosened. He stepped closer until their bodies touched, his arms wrapping around her lower chest, upper abdomen. He rested his head beside hers, so his mouth was near to her ear. His voice was a soft, breathy whisper of warm, slow moving air.

"Who am I? What am I to you? I saved your life and your honour by stopping not one, but two gangs from raping you in less than an hour. But did I do that directly? With the intent of saving you? No. The first time I went there to watch them rape you. But the foolish boys annoyed me, so I taught them a lesson. The second gang were going do it to you to get back at me. But I needed them gone lest I died.

"And for this, you feel responsible for me? I think not. I think you're drawn to me, or have feelings for me. Why would that be, I wonder? We are both not within the Flock. It is easy to see with you. You reject the Mother Church's gentle wisdom of how to dress. Your choice of career is not in keeping with the look of a woman. There are other more respectable career options out there, but you take something... masculine?

"But Sam, you are a Lost Lamb, whereas I am a Wolf. Do you feel safe with me? Or are you drawn to the darkness within? Am I the once forbidden of your younger days? The unknown I represent? The part of your life that you want so desperately to run from? Maybe your Knight in Shining Armour?"

He kissed her cheek softly, his warm lips barely gracing her skin with their presence. But that briefest of touches sent tingles through his frame. His breath grew heavier, drawing in her scent. He felt himself starting to loose control. His breathing slowed, and deepened as he restored his balance.

He released Sam, and turned her to face him. He stared into Sam's azure orbs, fear and curiosity vying for prominence. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move, starring into Sam's eyes with an unwavering, unblinking gaze.

"Who... who are you? Why are you here? Why... does he want you so badly?" Michael closed his eyes, and turned away from Sam as he lurched to a counter. His breathing was heavy, shuddering. His hands and arms had tremors as he held himself up. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he moved to the sofa. Instead of walking, he dragged his right leg behind him.

He fell onto the sofa, barely getting himself seated properly. He looked back at Sam, confusion the only expression that could be seen, apart from fear.

Sam decided on pasta. She was just about to start searching the cupboards for the necessary cooking utensils when she heard Michael rise to his feet. His distinctive walk echoed through the apartment as he came to a standstill behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.

His fingers started working their way across Sam’s shoulders and neck. It gave her gooseflesh as her head slumped forward slightly. It felt sooooo good. She made little grunting noises whenever he hit a spot that was particularly painful.

Michael moved closer and wrapped his arms around her placing his head on her shoulder. He spoke in a soft voiceless tone, his warm breath washing over Sam’s neck sending a shiver down her spine. It felt so right. It felt as if she was made to fit in Michael’s arms.

He gave a quick recount of what happened the night before. Sam was about to turn and thank him once again for saving her life. “But did I do that directly? With the intent of saving you? No. The first time I went there to watch them rape you. But the foolish boys annoyed me, so I taught them a lesson. The second gang were going to do it to you to get back at me. But I needed them gone lest I died,” Michael’s words were spoken matter-of-factly.

Sam stiffened in his arms, her eyes widening in shock. He was going to watch them? Her breathing increased perceptibly, her chest heaving against Michael’s embrace. What started out as something sweet had turned into a death grip … she felt as if she could not breathe, her hands gripping the kitchen counter tightly. What have I done? He is just like them … and you were foolish enough to invite him into your home, Sam! She hissed at herself in her mind as fear quaked through her body.

Michael took a very cheap blow at her beliefs and her choice of career. It instantly stirred a fire of resentment deep in Sam. He had no right to make assumptions of her, to place her in a box and to label her as he pleased based on his observations and his obviously outdated views of women in the modern world. She brought him here because she wanted to help him, she wanted to return the kindness that he showed her last night … disillusionment fought heavily in her mind. It made Sam question her judge of character, her belief in the greater good.

The soft kiss that he pressed to her cheek completely belied his words. He suddenly let go and turned her to face him. Sam’s expression was a mixture of emotions. Fear was engrained in her eyes as she stared back at Michael in disbelief. He looked at her strangely for a moment … his breathing became ragged.

"Who... who are you? Why are you here? Why... does he want you so badly?" Michael breathed before he closed his eyes. For a moment, Sam thought he was going to collapse. Her eyes widened as she watched him hobble to the couch and sink into it, staring back at her with a confused expression lingering on his features.

Sam stared at him with an incredulous look before she turned her back on him. She blindly looked up at the cupboard door as tears brimmed in her eyes. Short breaths shuddered past Sam’s lips. Her hands were shaking as she tried to make sense of everything he had just said. She shook her head as she turned around, letting him see the raw anger and fear and pain that was burning in her blue depths.

“You …” she breathed, her hands balled into fists at her sides as she bestowed a murderous look on him. “You have NO right,” Sam spat at him from across the room. She had too much to say, and words were not making sense in her head. “No right …,” she said as her voice broke on the words … her tears silently running down her cheeks.

“I am the fool here, aren’t I Michael?” she asked harshly. “I was the one foolish enough to think that someone could save me this time around. I was the one who believed that there are good people in this world. And yes, I thought that of you. I wanted to help you, to take you away from there. I wanted to …” she let her words trail off as a sob tore from her chest. It did not matter what she wanted … it never did.

“Tell me Michael, how could I have been so very wrong?” she asked as she shook her head in disbelief.

“I didn’t want a knight in shining armour and you sure as hell are not something forbidden that I crave from a teenage fantasy. I had to grow up very fast and at a very young age … I didn’t have the luxury of fantasising about anything! I have come this far on my own. I have never needed anyone in my life. And for once … just once … I hoped that I was wrong.” Sam’s pain was almost tangible in the air, as she wrapped her arms around herself trying to stop the hurt.

“So if you think I am opposing the world by not conforming to their ‘dress codes’ and not doing the job that a ‘good little girl’ would do … you are gravely mistaken. I know what I want,” she said as she wiped the tears from her eyes, with self-loathing. She hated crying … she had done too much of it in her life. “I will not bow to the wills of the world, when I owe the world absolutely nothing!” She screamed.

She stood absolutely still for a moment, her words ricocheting off the walls … her lips pursed together tightly as she fought for control over her emotions.

Sam moved to the table and grabbed her handbag before she walked to the door and opened it. She hesitated on the threshold before she looked back at Michael for a brief moment, defeat in her eyes. “I am very sorry for the inconvenience I caused you, Michael Davingston,” she said quietly. “Saving me was a terrible thing … I am not worth it.”

Sam looked out into the passage for a moment before looking back at Michael. “I can’t do this,” she said as she shook her head, her face pale and her eyes haunted. “Not again,” she said as she stepped out and slammed the door behind her.

Michael didn't need to look at Sam to know how she felt. Her emotions radiated across the room like the heat from a blast furnace. He felt Sam's feelings burning his skin. He heard her breathing almost rattling in her chest. He had faced all of the feelings he felt from Sam, but none had ever made him seek to distance himself from the source.

He watched the tears roll down her cheeks as she stammered her initial response to him. But then she marshaled her anger, and fired it straight at him with almost lethal intensity.

“I am the fool here, aren’t I Michael? I was the one foolish enough to think that someone could save me this time around. I was the one who believed that there are good people in this world. And yes, I thought that of you. I wanted to help you, to take you away from there. I wanted to …”

Michael barked a harsh laugh of his own. "I'm far from good people, Sam. Very far."

“I didn’t want a knight in shining armour and you sure as hell are not something forbidden that I crave from a teenage fantasy. I had to grow up very fast and at a very young age … I didn’t have the luxury of fantasizing about anything! I have come this far on my own. I have never needed anyone in my life. And for once … just once … I hoped that I was wrong.”

Michael tasted her pain. The rich, dark texture reminded Michael of well aged venison, with it's strong, lingering taste. In days gone by, he would relish the delightful sensations such an offering would bring. He watched her arms envelope herself, trying to shield herself from the onslaught of her own tortured soul.

Michael felt his own malevolent spiritual morass rise with a hungering moan, calling out to him to bring forth more of the blackened ambrosia from the font that huddled before him. It took all of his self control not to allow it to take over. He closed his eyes to better focus on his own internal battle, not to let himself loose control over himself.

“So if you think I am opposing the world by not conforming to their ‘dress codes’ and not doing the job that a ‘good little girl’ would do … you are gravely mistaken. I know what I want.” There was a pause, before her voice rang out through the room, “I will not bow to the wills of the world, when I owe the world absolutely nothing!”

The pain within her voice was almost his undoing. His natural self rallied in the wash that swept over him. His hands gripped his thighs causing excruciating pain that helped him hold the line on the last scraps of ground available to him. He bit his lip so hard that his mouth flooded with blood. His entire body quivered as the the battle raged within.

Her final words were lost to his ears as all he could do was maintain the last vestiges of control. He heard the door slam, feeling her emotional turmoil become more distant. Instead of making it easier for him to control, he was finally overwhelmed by the need to partake further in the sweet cloying nectar of her pain and suffering.

An animalistic howl of pain ripped from his throat as he fell to his knees. Dark guttural words tore the air as his arms flailed in frustration. His deep brown eyes were almost black with madness as he heaved huge breathes, bringing his anger under control, harnessing it's destructive powers.

Out of his bedroom stepped a perfect example of the Mediterranean beauty. A simple white cotton robe covered her ample form leaving only her hands and feet free to be seen. The robe's hood was up, the shadows hiding the face that was surrounded by raven wavy locks. Michael felt the pull of lust for the newcomer the moment she appeared. He snarled at her, the sound more a mating call than one of violence.

Her beautiful arms slipped out of her sleeves as she drew the hood back. Her pale olive complexion made her deep brown eyes even more noticeable. Her bright red lips were full with the promise of sensual kisses never experienced. She looked down on Michael with smoldering desire, her graceful steps almost slinking around his still snarling form.

She slowly sank to the floor, resting like him on her hands and knees. Their eyes locked, peering deeply into each other. Slowly, her lips formed a seductive smile as she softly, silently shuffled herself around to present her broad hips to him. She stared over her shoulder, looking down her back, her lips parting ever so slightly to allow the tip of her tongue to brush the top lip.

He sprang.

One hand took her hair firmly and hard, pulling her head back sharply that a cry of pain echoed through the room. His other hand made short work of the light cotton fabric, exposing the rest of her hidden beauty. He was atop of her, slamming her body to the floor, her cries of pain evolving into those of pleasure, her firm posterior grinding into his groin. Michael clamped his teeth down on her neck, illicting another howl of pleasure from the woman pinned beneath him. His erection was straining for release as his desire to take the child of his homeland became nearly unstoppable.

His voice was a roar as he raised himself up, flipping the woman onto her back, almost biting her as he kissed her, slamming her head into the floor. Once more he pinned her down. Her legs wrapped around his, her hands working with ease to release him, and guide him to her treasure cave. He pulled his face away from her, looking into her eyes as his hips readied to impale his prey.

He threw himself back with a cry of pain, rolling back onto all fours looking at her with pure hatred.

"No." His breathing rattled the room. "No, Rebbecca, my father will not win so easily. Not by using you. You are mine, not his."

Rebbecca sensually lifted her self onto her elbows, her breasts baring as the ruins of her robe succumbed to gravity. Her smile was joyous as she started to laugh.

"I know you are my Master, which is why I am here. I came here to stop you. If I didn't, I would loose you forever. I can't have that." She stood in all her 'natural glory' before squatting down before him. Her natural perfume was that of an aroused woman, and it stirred his darker side for a fleeting instant. "You give me the nicest playthings, Master. I'll never forget that." She laid the softest of kisses on his forehead, smiling at the way his body heated at the touch. With a light laugh, she skipped from the room.

Michael fell to the floor, crying as he did the day he watched his mother die.

Somehow, she had made it to the streets below, her vision blurred as the tears streamed down her cheeks. There were far too many eyes following her. She was dressed in a tracksuit and she was wearing her pain like a mask. Resentful eyes from passers by burned into Sam’s being … with not one offering to help or even wanting to console her.

She stopped in the middle of a busy street and shook her head as she gave herself a wan smile. What did you expect Sam … the world to change overnight?

There was a park across from her and Sam stared at the inviting tall trees …suddenly she walked across the street, sending cars swerving around her. She did not care. She had lost something vital a long time ago, and it made Sam more reckless with her own life. It was as if she was courting danger, inviting it into her being like an unerring magnet. Michael was once again living and breathing proof of it.

Once she reached the grass, she kicked her shoes off and picked them up in her hands as she walked barefoot on nature’s green carpet. She stared up at the branches that streaked across the sky above her, the sun streaming through the leaves to dapple the ground in patches of colour. She dropped her handbag and shoes to the floor and spread her arms as she stared up at the masterpiece above her. Slowly … aimlessly spinning around.

Sam finally dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands as she wept. She had not allowed herself to give free reign to the pain in so long … it was almost comforting to invite the hurt to the surface to make it her companion.

She finally dropped her hands limply to her side as she lifted her head … staring to the horizon with eyes that held so much sorrow.

Sam had no idea how long she sat on the ground like that. She pulled herself to her feet and stared up at her apartment block pensively … not at all sure what to do. She could not stay out here and it was too late to try to secure a flight home … the word sounded hollow in her mind. You do not have a place to call home …

She had no choice but to go back.

Sam started retracing her steps. She kept her eyes glued to the ground blatantly ignoring all the vindictive glances that were being flashed at her. The security guard let Sam enter with a curt little bow and she made her way up to the thirteenth floor again. She hesitated for a moment outside the door, before she opened it.

Sam froze in her tracks as she found Michael on the floor, heart-wrenching sobs tearing from his chest. She was not emotionally detached enough yet, to let it slide … as her own eyes reciprocated the hurt and pain that she could see there. Sam hastily dropped her handbag on the floor and knelt down next to Michael. She gently lifted his head into her lap as she stared down into his face that seemed contorted with grief. Sam’s own tears streaked down her cheeks again … as she let her fingers gently trail through his dark hair.

“I’m so sorry Michael …,” she whispered close to his ear as she cradled him against her. “I said things I didn’t mean … I … I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered trying to console him. Her eyes were filled with regret. Somewhere in the recesses of her thoughts her mind was screaming that he deserved it that she needed to voice her concerns and fears … Sam’s heart cringed at the thought of her words causing someone so much pain.

“Shhhh … it will be okay,” she kept saying as her own tears streaked down her face, saying the words she desperately needed to hear. “Everything will be alright … let it all out,” she murmured against his ear as she closed her eyes. Her hands were trembling as she let them smooth across his face and through his hair … across his shoulders, trying to shield him from the pain. She slowly rocked backwards and forwards as she sat on the floor against the couch, Michael in her arms. “I’m sorry … shhhhhh,” she echoed over and over.

Michael barely heard the door opening over the cacophony of his own grief. But the feel of his head being placed in Sam's lap alerted him he was no longer alone. Her fingers glided through the black strands of his hair, that action strangely calmed him down.

“I’m so sorry Michael … I said things I didn’t mean … I … I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Her soft voice washed over him, carrying away more of his pain. Michael felt confused by his reactions to her presence, which lead to fear. Fear of an unknown. Fear of why she effected him the way she did.

Michael slowly sat himself straighter, putting a little distance between them. His eyes were red, puffed up from the sobbing and crying from how he felt. He looked into equally strained eyes, unsure of what he was doing.

"Samantha. You talk of being saved. Well, you were. I did save you. But you needed to know why I was there in the first place. But remember, I did lead you out of there, I offered you hospitality. I could have easily walked out leaving you with them to enjoy after their leadership spill. Likewise, after the ambush, I could have... I could have left you to the cruel hands of Fate. But I didn't. Don't ask me why, because I can't answer you. But it was something that I did, and I don't regret doing it."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "We are more like than you might guess. Got where we are alone. Never needed anyone else? Didn't care about the rest of the world, what they thought or did. I'm that way because no one cared about what I thought or did. Plus I have other reasons for hating the world, but they are rather personal."

It was at that point he realized his ass was out of his pants, as well as his genitals. All of which was covered by his shirt, much to his relief. Again, on the back of the feeling of relief was the question of why? He was not embarrassed by what he had, as he had never shied away from that part of his life. Yet the thought of Samantha being presented with a view made him hesitant. He shook his head.

"But why, Samantha? Why did you come back and help me after what I said? After the way I hurt you? What do you want from me? What are you getting from me? I saw and felt how you reacted to me when I first wrapped my arms around you. What is that you're doing to me?"

Michael pulled his eyes away from Samantha. His gaze fell onto the remains of Rebecca's dress lying on the floor. His eye's widened as he tried to think about how that could be. Everything she wore went back with her when...

Michael scrambled to his feet, barely keeping his loosened pants from completely falling down as he ran to the bedroom he was given. Almost falling over when he slide to a stop outside the bedroom door, he saw Rebecca laying on his bed, in an artful pose that left little to the imagination as to what she had been gifted with. Her smile was wicked as she waved to Michael with just her fingers.

"WHA...?"

Sam was staring into Michael’s eyes as he sat across from her on the floor. She let her eyes roam across his features … his eyes were bloodshot and filled with confusion, sadness … and fear? Sam was surprised to find that emotion lingering there.

She closed her eyes for a moment. A very vivid memory of the first time she laid eyes on Michael played across her mind. She could still feel the intensity of his stare and the overwhelming attraction that awakened a lust that she had never experienced before. She opened her eyes again as she let them roam across him one more time … that feeling was not there now. Nevertheless, there was still something about Michael … she could not quite put her finger on.

He was right; he did lead her out of there and kept her safe … at great personal risk. She still flinched at the memory of his broken and battered body as she instinctively lifted her hand and trailed her fingertips across his cheek in a soft caress, before dropping her hand down to her lap. Michael was as alone in this world as she was … the empty ache in his eyes cried out to her, resonating in her being. It was something she knew all too well.

"But why, Samantha? Why did you come back and help me after what I said? After the way I hurt you? What do you want from me? What are you getting from me? I saw and felt how you reacted to me when I first wrapped my arms around you. What is that you're doing to me?" Michael asked, as confusion swirled in his eyes.

“If I knew that Michael, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” she said. She shifted slightly to sit on her knees, staring deeply into his eyes … trying to find an answer there. “You confuse me … and then you hurt me by being so cold and callous. But when you wrap your arms around me …” Sam let the words trail off. It feels like heaven, she added in her mind. “I don’t want anything from you Michael. My heart is far too small to ignore someone’s pain. You needed someone to hold and comfort you … my arms were empty,” she simply said.

Michael averted his gaze. His entire body stiffened as his eyes riveted on something. Sam’s eyes followed, and a small gasp escaped her lips as they found what appeared to be a white cotton garment of sorts. Sam cocked her head to the side as she levelled a confused look on Michael. She was about to ask where that came from … whose it was, when Michael abruptly climbed to his feet. There was no hiding the fact that Michael’s trousers were undone.

She watched as he ran to the spare bedroom and halted outside the door. Sam slowly climbed to her feet and followed him, coming to a standstill behind him. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw a beautiful and seductive temptress spread across his bed in all her naked glory. Her dark hair and eyes framing an almost intoxicatingly gorgeous face that was perched on her hands as she laid on her stomach, idly twirling and untwirling her legs in the air … giving them both a full display of her assets. Sam pressed her lips together as she let her eyes slowly drift back to the forgotten garment on the floor.

Comprehension dawned.

She took a step back. Sam slowly brought her hand up and dumped her head in it, feeling incredibly stupid for every word she had just said to Michael. She straightened up and watched as the Mediterranean beauty waggled her fingers at Sam, with an almost smug little smile that spoke volumes. Sam gave her a very fake smile in return and returned the sarcastic little wave. She turned and wordlessly walked to her room, giving them the privacy they obviously needed.

Sam closed the door behind her as she leaned against it for a moment. She felt incredibly foolish for thinking that his intense show of emotion had anything to do with her. She pushed herself away from the door and climbed on the bed, perching her head on an elbow as she lay on her side, staring out the window.

She had no right to be angry with Michael and had no reason to be jealous … but god help her, she was. Sam could not explain it. The notion was absurd. The sheer emotional turmoil that he managed to wreak on her senses, was confusing enough already. She shook her head, vehemently trying to push Michael out of her mind. He was dangerous and he certainly had his own agenda. You are better off without him, she told herself sternly.

Michael stood staring at Rebecca as she lazily lay on the bed, the embodiment of tease. He became aware of Sam's arrival, and it felt as if his stomach dropped down to his hips. He noticed Rebecca's smile change slightly as she waved to Sam. The waves of anger and jealously that washed over him as Sam left were almost tangible. His own soul seemed to rejoice at the feelings as she disappeared into her own room.

Rebecca looked back to Michael, the tip of her slender index finger perched on the bottom lip of the pout, sitting below eyes widened slightly in feigned innocence, framed by slightly arched brows. Michael's eyes narrowed in direct proportions to the fury that built up within him. He walked into the room, closing the door behind him slowly and quietly. He pulled his pants up, and secured them on his hips. Rebecca's smile melted from her face like ice cream in the summer sun. Her pose faltered as Michael approached. He grabbed her by the hair, dragging her off the bed. Her squeal was not one of fear or panic, but one of pleasure. As she landed on her knees in front of him, her hand reached out to rub his groin, her breathing deep and hot. Michael slapped the hand out of the way, before backhanding her half way across the room. She let the wave of ecstasy wash over her, making her nipples harden and darken with the lust she was feeling for Michael.

"Return to your home, Irheebhekhaaarh. Begone!" The beautiful face flashed into one of pure hatred, disgust and condescending arrogance toward the mere mortal male that held her leash before she hurtled back to the existence that had been created for her and those like her.

His thoughts were drawn back to Sam, and her reaction. He couldn't comprehend the strength of how she reacted to the discovery of Rebecca in his room. Sam was jealous! But to his mind there was nothing there between them. Or was there?

He opened the door of his room loudly before he stopped outside Sam's bedroom, his fist poised to try and break the door in two.

Michael entered Sam's room. He stormed around until he was standing between her and the window.

"What is wrong, Samantha? Why are you so angry at me? And why so jealous? You want nothing from me? Yet you react in that manner? What did you think? Did you think I fucked her while you were out? If so, why do you care? You don't want anything from me! But it seems you do want some thing from me.

"What I can't understand is why. Why are you attracted to me? I can feel the desire in you, though it's not lust. And why... why do you draw me back to you? Why can't I keep away from you? How is it that you can do something to me that one person has ever done?"

He turned his back on Sam, walking the look out the window while he tried to bring his breathing under control. He quickly turned and walked back to where Sam laid. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up to her feet. He looked into her eyes, peering as deeply as he could into her azure rimmed depths searching for the elusive answers to his questions.

"Who are you?" He asked softly. "What are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

His hands rapidly and roughly cupped her face, and he kissed her. The arrival of his lips was swift but the action afterward was slow, delicate. His mouth seemed to adapt immediately to her desires. Strength when it was desired, softness when needed. The gentle brush of skin as the position changed to something better for what was happening. The soft sounds of heavy breathing and gentle smacking of moist lips were the only sounds to break the silence that filled the room.

Michael ended the kiss, moving himself away enough to look in to Sam's eyes again. "What is happening to us, Sam?"

Sam’s body jolted with fright when Michael unceremoniously opened the door and stalked around the bed coming to an abrupt halt in front of her. She ignored him point-blank and stared past him. As far as Sam was concerned Michael could have walked in there dressed in only a tutu and she would not have given him the time of day.

Her futile attempt at trying to keep his words barred from her mind only managed to stoke her anger to a scorching fire. Fury was glinting dangerously in her eyes as she levelled her gaze on him.

He swivelled around on his heel as his hands shot out and grabbed Sam’s arms propelling her off the bed to stand in front of him. Sam felt like a puppet in his hands … her fury completely forgotten. He was securely in charge of the strings as he dangled her in front of him, staring deeply into Sam’s eyes. Her breathing increased as she had the absurd urge to hide from him … it felt as if he was looking straight into her soul … seeing too much.

"Who are you?" He asked softly. "What are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

Sam swallowed nervously as her eyes darted around him. She scrounged together the courage to look at him before she whispered in a soft voice, “I’m Sam, Michael … just Sam.” Her widened eyes were unnaturally bright with unshed tears. She wanted to push herself away from him … to run and never stop running.

His hands cupped around Sam’s face as Michael pressed a soft kiss against her lips. Her breath caught in her throat as she closed her eyes, the tears slowly trailing down her cheeks. She kept absolutely still. It felt as if she was melting against him … a blistering flame attracting the moth ever closer to its own undoing. A soft moan escaped deep within Sam’s chest as she surrendered her lips to him, kissing him with every ounce of passion she could wring from her heart. Sam’s entire being spiralled to a standstill, Michael filled every thought … every fibre … every moment.

He pried his lips from Sam after what felt like an eternity. Michael moved slightly back and levelled his intense and searching gaze on her again. "What is happening to us, Sam?"

She was hovering in a dazed state … staring into space. Her mind refused to work. She shook her head as she lifted her hand to her lips, softly touching them as if she needed to ascertain that it was real. Sam’s haggard breathing was mingling with soft sobs as her ice blue depths focussed on Michael with a mixture of fear and bewilderment. “I … I don’t know,” the words ghosted from her lips as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Sam shook her head with increasing intensity, sending her raven hair flying wildly around her shoulders as she buried her face in her hands. She could not put a name to it. Nor could she understand the overwhelmingly conflicting emotions that were storming through her mind, threatening to drown her.

By the time she looked up at Michael, she was shamelessly crying with pain and confusion warring in her eyes. “I don’t understand what I’m feeling Michael … it scares me. You have too much power over me … I’m scared …” she said in a breathless voice. She placed a trembling hand on his chest … wanting to dissuade him from the path they were following blindly.

“Please … don’t hurt me …”

Michael watched as tears rolled down Sam's cheeks as she brought her hand up to hesitantly touch her lips. He watched her closely, trying to divine the emotions that formed the tempest within her. The blue windows to her soul could only show fear and confusion in equal measures, though he felt other emotions vying for the honour of being released.

Her answer to his simple question was just as simple, “I … I don’t know.” Her voice reinforced everything else he was able to discern from her. She was as much in the dark as he was.

Michael closed his eyes, trying to bring his own turmoil under control. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be happy or angry at the revelation. He was happy that Sam was not causing the problem, but that brought the anger that he was being played by a Power. The fact that he didn't know who or why made it even worse. The initial list of those that would try such a thing was too short, and everyone was easily ruled out.

Michael's eyes opened to pain and confusion shining from Sam's watery eyes. Her cheeks were crossed by rivers of tears, some following the paths dictated by her hair.

“I don’t understand what I’m feeling Michael … it scares me. You have too much power over me … I’m scared …” she said in a breathless voice.

The hand she placed on his chest shook as if palsied, but it soothed his nerves, and generated a warmth where it touched. Her words echoed in his mind, because those words he had spoken to himself about her.

“Please … don’t hurt me …”

"You're scared? Well, so am I, Sam. But for reasons that are far more... esoteric than yours. At a guess. I feel drawn to you too, Sam. Drawn to you like no one else has. In my entire life, Sam. No one has impacted me like you have. Absolutely no one.

"I have too much power over you?" Michael barked a laugh. "Sam, I have no power over you yet. But you... you have some power over me. I am starting to feel it clearer. It's soft, subtle, but it's there. Once I found out what it is, I'll be able to do something about it. I hate it when someone holds power over me and I have nothing in return for it. I dislike it even when I have been given something in return."

Michael paced the room. The feeling of being played was strong, but he wasn't sure if it was paranoia or not. For him, it was easy to see dangers where they did not exist. His Father was good at that,and he had learned well at his "knee".

"Sam," Michael asked as he looked out the window, "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?"

His thumping step rang out loudly as he crossed the floor, taking Sam by the hand and sitting her on the bed beside him. He peered into her eyes once more, whispering softly to himself, singing. The air around them grew warmer but when the singing stopped, the air began to cool again.

"Sam, please answer the question. I believe in the All Mighty. Beyond all doubt. It doesn't matter how you answer as long as you are honest to yourself. Please," Michael pleaded with Sam, "answer the question."

He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, removing some of the tears. He kissed her again, on her lips, as he did the first time. Except he allowed himself to relax into the kiss, fully experience it rather than analyze it. As their lips joined, Michael felt the tension melt from his body, leaving in its place agonized muscles that were returned to their normal state. The moan of combined pain and pleasure was muffled by the presence of Sam's mouth.

He stopped the kiss. Without a word, he stood up, and started to make his way to the door, his ability to walk impaired by the pain. "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 closed the door to her room behind him on his way to 'his' room. He needed to find out more about one Miss Samantha Langley. The clues he needed were in her past somewhere.

He entered his room, closing the door and falling onto the bed. His mind kept coming back to the gnawing suspicion that he was being set upon a course to complete some deed for some Power. Given his heritage, the likelihood of what he would be called on to do would not be nice.

"I have never been given the Choice like the rest of them! Stop pushing me back to where I don't want to go. Let me make the fucking Choice myself!! Damn you, leave me in fucking PEACE!!"