Vanessa, Gabriel’s longtime and long-suffering assistant, double checked his flight arrangements and emailed him the confirmation number before leaving the office. One would imagine working for Gabriel for as long as she had would warrant a ‘thank you’. It did, it doesn’t, and it won’t. It was quite literally a thankless job with the only perk being that she alone could order him about—which she did willfully. Vanessa was his eyes and ears. She had to think before he thought; to feel before he felt; to anticipate his next move before he took it. She was his protection, solely responsible for fishing him out of sticky situations amongst other more mundane chores. Short of screwing him, she was his wife. By comparison, Samantha was an amateur. She’d given up her life for Gabriel out of duty. Consequently, the lines between the two had become muddied yet, astonishingly, crystal clear. This overlap of worlds came in the form of Dorian. For five years, she was his living breathing sex toy, the spare tire in the boot of the car.
Or as Gabriel famously put it, “You were the Johnny on the spot. There’s no sense in crying over it or making it more than it was. Besides, reflecting on our past relationships is like looking at modern art: you take it in; you try to make sense of it; and you pick it apart inch by inch. But in the end, you have to step back and say, “Hey, that’s just someone’s dried jizz on paper” and move on.”
Dried jizz. That was her ‘pick me up speech’ from the wizard with words himself. Aw, Vanessa thought, there are worse bodily fluids I could be.
“Have a goodnight,” she said to two male students as they passed. Her ink black bob bounced in stride. She cut her devilish hazel eyes to the side; she could feel the students’ eyes traveling up the back of her alabaster legs until they came to rest on her ass. She giggled to herself and kept walking.
She called Gabriel en route and he met her at the door. “How is the happy couple?” Gabriel asked, taking the printouts from her hand.
“He hasn’t made contact with her. We’re still waiting.” Vanessa sat beside Gabriel on the sofa. “One more month and we’re out of here.”
Gabriel barely acknowledged her presence. He was more worried about his seat assignment. “You put me in economy?! You want to make this believable, right?” he asked. Vanessa snatched the page from his hand.
“Sorry, I’ll sort it out tomorrow. I’m exhausted.” She laid her head backwards and said softly. “I saw Dorian today. He and Claire look happy.”
“They are. Claire is a wonderful lady.” Gabriel sighed. “You still love him, don’t you?”
“It’s difficult not to.”
“You know me. I don’t do warm and cuddly. But you’re welcomed to stay the night if you’d like.”
“No thanks. I’ll be heading home.” She gathered her purse and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She paused at the door and looked back at Gabriel. “Did he ever love me? Just a little?”
“Never.”
“I didn’t think so but it never hurts to ask.” She smiled. “It’s happening, isn’t it?”
Gabriel gave a strained grin and said solemnly. “Yes, it is.”
“In that case, I’ll see you on the other side.” Vanessa looked around Gabriel’s flat realizing it would be the last time she’d see it … and quite possibly him as well. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”
******
The day got to a rough start and Samantha wore her anxiety like bad makeup. None of the previous days’ findings had been shipped to the lab the night before and time was of the essence. And to make matters worse, Drew arrived on site ahead of schedule and commandeered her students and coffee mug. Drew flashed Samantha a smile from across the causeway. She bit her tongue and got on with her work.
Fortunately, the remainder of the day went better than expected. In the Upper Ward, the foundations of the Round Table building erected in 1344 by Edward III was located; while in the Lower Ward, the Great Hall of Henry III’s palace was unearthed allowing the team of archaeologists to assess where the original Windsor palace actually stood. Working with Drew wasn’t the chore Sam thought it would be. He was intelligent, extremely analytical and had a keen eye for detail. Moreover, he was the consummate professional, never stepping out of line even with the female crew members throwing themselves at his feet. Maybe she’d written him off too soon.
“Do you need a hand?” Drew offered with an outstretched hand, staring down into the trench where Sam was completing her journal.
“Yeah, thanks.” She took his hand and he pulled her to freedom. She dusted off her jeans and fought hopelessly with her hair. “I always have the damnest time getting out of those things. One size doesn’t fit all.” They walked across the now vacant lawn towards the observation tent to drop off their reports. “God, are we the last ones here again?”
“It appears that we are.” Drew scanned the grounds. “I’m impressed with your grad students. They’re bright. Did you assemble the team yourself?”
“Yes, I created both teams,” Sam replied and they slipped into silence. “I want to apologize for my behavior. I shouldn’t have bitten your head off.” She chuckled. “My boyfriend says that I can act like a spoiled child at times … snapping at you proved his point.”
“You have a boyfriend?” The question tumbled from his mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“Don’t apologize. I brought him up in the conversation. Yes, I have a boyfriend. ‘Boyfriend’ sounds so immature.” They entered the tent and deposited their journals with the lone clerk and headed for the parking lot.
“What’s he like, your boyfriend?”
“Gabriel? He’s wonderful—the typical Byronic Hero: highly intelligent and perceptive. Mr. Sophisticated is what I call him.” She grinned up at Drew as they walked. “He’ll be here in a few days … I’ll introduce you.”
“That would be nice. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve had my fill of twats.” Drew said as they came upon Sam’s rental car.
“That sounds like something Gabriel would say.” Sam laughed. “Can I offer you a lift to your car?”
“No, I’m just over there.” He pointed two rows over. He watched Sam struggling to unlock the door and unlocked it for her.
“Thanks … again. You keep saving me.”
“It’s what I do. Have a goodnight, Dr. Cross.” He closed Sam’s door and started for his car. Then he heard Sam call.
“We’re going to a play in Regent’s Park tomorrow night and grabbing dinner if you’d like to come. It’s better than sitting in the hotel room.”
Drew smiled. “I’d like that. Thanks for asking. Goodnight.”
******
Claire rested her head against the cold stone of her kitchen counter gasping for breath. This was the second episode she’d experienced in a week. She clenched the necklace Dorian had given her in her trembling hands, hoping against hope for the strength to make it to the phone without passing out again. “Please …” she whimpered, trying not to panic though her throat seemed to open and close independently of her, as if she were being strangled. She looked at the clock on the microwave; surely Dorian would be home shortly. She staggered to the sofa and collapsed face first and labored to roll into her back. She stared up at the ceiling and prayed she could will enough air into her lungs to remain conscious until Dorian walked through the door. She mustered what strength she had and called 911 but the phone was dead and she feared that in a matter of time she’d be dead as well.
Dorian’s key turned in the lock thirty minute later. He found Claire asleep on the sofa and didn’t bother rousing her. When he emerged from the shower, Claire was in the same position he’d left her. Odd because Claire wasn’t a heavy sleeper—his arrival should’ve awoken her. He placed his palm on her chest, it pressed into her chest with each shallow breath. He stood as still as a statue; his eyes shifted from left to right. The presence was in the room. Anger more than trepidation overcame him.
“Claire.” He nudged her gently. “Wake up. Let’s go to bed.” He picked her up into his arms when she didn’t respond.
“I don’t feel well.” she said weakly, slumped against Dorian. “I’m tired.”
“I know you are.” He threw back the duvet and placed her in bed and crawled in beside her. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. One second I was cleaning the kitchen and the next I couldn’t breathe. Fumes from the cleanser I suppose. It happened last week as I cleaned the floors.”
Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “Last week? After I gave you the necklace or before?”
“After.” Claire forced the word from her lips.
“I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
“I’m fine.” she insisted. “It’s the fumes. Just let me get some sleep.” She was asleep before the words left her mouth. Her assumption hadn’t pacified Dorian’s worry but it would have to suffice. She was too weak to continue the conversation.
Dorian waited until Claire was fast asleep before leaving the bed. He grabbed the phone and called Lily. Her reading confirmed the worse.
“Call Sebastian.” Lily’s tone was formal. “Something is absorbing Claire’s energy. I’ll contact Vanessa; I need help with these two. You and Gabriel need to sort this out. We’re cutting it close and our happy couple still hasn’t met. We’re out of here in a matter of weeks.”
“How much longer does she have?” Dorian asked.
Lily wouldn’t lie. “You should call Sebastian. It’s time to tell her the truth. Give her a choice … she either stays or walks away. ”
******
His commanding hands traced the contours from her caramel breasts to her silk-sheathed legs, registering the slightest of movements. She didn’t stir when he slid between the soft warmth of her thighs, taking in her scent with his fingers—teasingly they grazed delicate skin. He kissed her inner thigh, hell bent on having every inch of her gently splayed before him. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath as he spread her legs across the expanse of her bed.
Sounds of abandon escaped her depths. “Oh God, Gabriel.” Sam gripped the bed sheets, feeling his tongue lick the satin strip of satin covering her pussy, again and again he teased her.
“You like?” he asked, his words were warm against her clit. He removed her panties.
“Yes.” She twitched. “What’s gotten into you? You never go down on me.”
“I came to my senses.” He licked with the flat of his tongue. “You have a beautiful pussy, Samantha.” His finger dipped urgently into the depths of her velvety slickness, stroking in and out with sensual force while his tongue circled and fondled her aroused clit.
Sam held his head and slowly moved against his face as he devoured her. She hadn’t heard him come in but damn if he didn’t know how to make an entrance! His tongue ran kitten-soft circles around her clit until she begged to be sucked harder … softer … yes, right there. His tongue applied just enough pressure to slip between her lips and taste the sweetness inside. He licked until their gasps and moans faded into one another and Sam was drowned by the will of his fervent lapping tongue—each labored word became a whispering silent plea for more. Her eyes stared up at the darkened ceiling as she surrendered herself to him. Words failed to capture the bliss Gabriel was unleashing, it was immobilizing—his mouth seemed almost desperate to please her, to keep her entranced—it held her in a constant state of orgasm by which she couldn’t nor did she want to escape.
He pulled back the hood of her clit and kissed it softly while he fingered her. Sam damn near came out of her skin. “Cum Samantha.” he urged.
Sam’s hands tightened to fist in his hair, his tongue licked, his finger fucked, and she erupted like a volcano. Tiny aftershocks pricked her skin as he kissed his way up her body until he lay holding her in his arms. “I love you, Samantha.” He kissed the crown of her head knowing she was half asleep.
The next morning Sam awoke to a blaring alarm clock and empty bed. She staggered to the bathroom and noticed that the flip-lock on the door was in place. How did Gabriel get in the door? Mildly certain she was losing her mind she went to the bathroom hoping to find Gabriel for an explanation. He wasn’t there. She was alone. She wrote the event off to exhaustion and headed for the shower. Little did she know that only moments before a maid two doors down had stumbled upon a grisly scene while on a routine service call.
The walls were covered in blood, still fresh enough to be dripping onto the carpet in places—no doubt of the young lady who checked in late the previous night. The maid rang for help and when they arrived they found the head of the young lady had been separated from her body and spiked on one of the iron bed posts.
Back at Claire’s place, Lily woke with a start. “He’s here!” She shook Vanessa who was lying beside her and scrambled off the sofa. “Get up! Sin’s here, he’s gonna kill me.” She ran to the phone. “Gabriel and Dorian have to know.”
“Are you crazy?” Vanessa hissed under her breath then snatched the phone from Lily’s hand. “You don’t think they already know?”
“Then why aren’t they doing anything?!”