Dies Irae
(Day of Wrath)
(PG-13)
Unable to live together in harmony, humans and dragons began battling. Seventeen years ago, the evil black dragon, Cyril, was sealed in his own creation: an orb with enough power to wipe out the human race. Without their powerful leader to protect them, the remaining dragons went into hiding. Now Cyril has awakened to find his soul still trapped, and is beckoning The One to release him. It's up to Samara Callaghan to stop the cruel black dragon from being brought back into the world. There's just one minor obstacle: her enemy is her lover...and a dragon.
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Dies Irae: Love & Friendship
(part one)
Sample Chapter
[chapter 08 of "Dies Irae: Love & Friendship (part one)]
Samara quietly latched the door behind her after sneaking out of her bedroom. It was now dark out; Leela and Kalahari were sleeping.
The invigorating scent of a refreshing spring shower lay scattered in the air, and a nice blanket of clouds were on their way to consume the moons. The storm would be here within an hour or so depending on how fast it was moving. It was still chilly, but nothing Samara would fuss over not remembering to grab a sweater.
“The moonlight suits you. Especially the exotic glow of Pyros, which covers you now.”
Danteous was already there, waiting for her. She was happy to see that he had come, though a part of her was surprised. She had half expected him to forget or just not show up at all.
Her insides fluttered at the sound of his voice and when she turned around and saw him walking towards her, they turned into a thousand waves rolling inside of her.
He produced a purple primrose from between his gloved fingers and handed it to her. She smiled, blushing only a little.
“It covers you too,” she said in response, noticing the red tint saturating his hair.
“Then we are both infected with its ecstasy,” he replied smugly before touching her lips with his.
Her blood rushed through her veins in response to the bold salutation. She was smiling when they pulled apart and Danteous ran his thumb over her cheek. Even through his glove, she could feel the warmth of his fingers.
“I need to be somewhere in about twenty minutes. I would like it if you joined me.” He kissed her again and then added, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” Samara said without thinking it over.
She felt safe with him, and used the excuse that they had technically known one another since childhood as a reason to trust him, though she knew deep inside that was a foolish thing to do. She dismissed the fact that they hadn’t seen each other for seventeen years and didn’t remember one another at all.
She knew so little about him, but that wasn’t stopping the warm feeling she had, and the sense of security he gave her.
He held his hand out and she took it. They started to walk together down the dark road, leading away from Kalahari’s house and towards the city.
“Don’t disappoint me,” Samara added playfully.
He smirked. “I assure you, nothing I do to you or with you will be a disappointment.”
Perhaps she had walked into that double meaning on her own, and deserved it. She could feel her cheeks burning at the insinuation and had to push down certain thoughts before they became dominant. She had no comeback. Danteous’s smirk widened in triumph.
They walked mostly in darkness. The stretch of land between Kalahari's and the city was mostly forest that had been sparsely urbanized. There was just a small business or a house here and there.
Danteous and Samara walked along the side of the paved road. The only bit of light to guide them was from the sky above, but since there were so many tall, full-leafed trees, a good portion of the lights were blocked out. The cloud bank would soon steal away most of the light.
“A bar?” Samara asked when they finally stopped at a small clearing.
They were still nowhere near the busy part of the city; still on its outer limits.
The run-down structure was the only building in the area. There were weeds and overgrown shrubs all around and crawling up the gray, paint-chipped walls. Next to the screen door, which was covered in holes, was a flickering porch light. On the other side of the door was an old, neon sign strobing the word: “open.” There were no windows. The only thing to identify the joint was faded yellow paint on the side and front of the building.
The words were painted in huge, crooked letters.
“Not just a bar, but ‘Woo-Hoo’s’,” Samara commented, half grinning. “Such intellect.”
Danteous was smirking. “Were you expecting something fancier?”
“Depends . . .” Samara said, nonchalantly, “is this a date?”
“It could be.”
“Then yes.”
“Then it’s not.” His eyes shone wryly as he started to lead her to the door. She pulled back and laughed sarcastically.
“I am not going in there.”
“Don’t you work in a bar?” he asked ironically, amused.
“Not one like this.”
Taking both of her hands in his, he kissed her fingertips, an assuring gesture.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
Samara could tell he was used to getting whatever he wanted. She doubted he would take no for an answer in this case.
“You said you trusted me,” he pointed out with an impish grin.
Samara smiled and surrendered; he had her.
“I do,” she said, taking his arm.
His grin widened and he proceeded to lead her into the bar. They were immediately met with a cloud of cigarette and cigar smoke. Dim, but colorful, lights hung from the ceiling’s rafters, making the pollution visible.
Rock music was being played on low volume from four speakers positioned throughout the building. The place was dirty and reeked of b.o. mixed with alcohol.
Wobbling ceiling fans looked like they would take flight at any moment. The bar counter was made of wood and chipped in several places. The tables and chairs scattered around the room were old and in need of being replaced.
The occupants of Woo-Hoo’s were clearly weekly—or even nightly—customers as everyone seemed to know everyone else. Most of them looked too drunk to even stand. Samara was just relieved there weren’t any half-naked women dancing on a stage and around a pole, though it wouldn’t have surprised her if there had been.
However, there were the waitresses: they wore tiny white t-shirts with “Woo” written across their breasts in black letters. “Hoo” was written in glittering gold over the black material that barely covered their rears posing as shorts. Their faces were caked with makeup.
Samara knew she shouldn’t judge these women just by their looks—maybe this was the only job they could find and the clothes were obviously required uniforms—but she felt annoyed with them.
Perhaps she was a little jealous. How familiar was Danteous with this place? She could guess.
She looked up at him for an explanation, an accusing look in her eye. He didn’t see her though; he was looking around the room. She might have shoulder-punched him if she thought he was looking at the women, but it appeared he was looking for someone specific, so she stayed by his side.
She inched even closer to him and gripped his hand tighter when she noticed some of the men that were staring at her. Some winked. She cringed.
Danteous moved along, making his way to the back of the room. A few of the waitress' eyes lit up when they saw him, which increased Samara’s jealousy and annoyance.
“Hi Danteous!” they said. Or “Hey there, Danteous,” in sultry voices.
He responded with a nonchalant wave, or not at all, and kept walking. At least he didn’t seem too interested in them. The women glared at Samara and she suddenly found herself questioning her judgment. Danteous obviously knew these women and she could guess in what way.
He was good looking—okay he was hot—sensual, and suave. It would be hard to believe if he wasn’t popular with the women. But that didn’t mean Samara had to like it. And what was their problem? She’d like to try out Kalahari’s punching techniques and knock the glares off their over-made faces.
That thought surprised her. She wasn’t usually the violent type. She had to wonder about Danteous’s motives too. Of course he was a man so she wouldn’t expect anything less than him trying to sleep with her sooner or later but was that all he wanted?
Unable to push the thought from her mind, she promised herself she wouldn’t get too attached until she knew for sure.
Yeah right.
Danteous stopped at a table where two men were sitting. When they saw him they greeted him with a cheery hello. Samara recognized them as two of the men that had come into Graham’s the other night. She didn’t see the third one though.
“Ah, Danteous, righ’ on time,” said the man with the heavy accent.
“Aleck,” Danteous said and nodded in response.
The second man was already drunk. Way drunk. He blinked his eyes a few times, looking from Danteous to Samara.
“So who’s dah gir-girl of dah week? . . . Ohr night?” He slurred in his drunken state.
The annoyance turned to anger and Samara glared up at Danteous, who was looking at the man with warning eyes. She would have turned around and left at that very moment, but she was afraid to walk home alone during this time of night. She did inch a little away from him though, slackening her hold on his hand.
“Silence, Liam,” Danteous growled.
“Oh!” Liam’s eyes widened in recognition. “She’s dat girrrl from . . .” He paused, thinking, and then a sly grin slithered onto his face. “Ooh, nice, Danteous . . . ah-Ha, ah-Ha.”
His laugh was stupid. That’s as generous as Samara could put it.
Aleck could sense Danteous’s anger growing as well as Danteous could sense Samara’s. He pulled her back when he noticed her hand going slack from his, and slipped his arm around her waist, mumbling, “stay” into her hair. It was a plea, not a demand. He then turned his glare to Liam and said to Aleck, “Get him out of here.”
Samara did stay, still not wanting to go home alone, but she crossed her arms. Danteous’s arm was still around her.
“’ey, Liam,” Aleck said. “I’n’t it abou’ time for ye ta go ta the bat’room?” Aleck wasn’t drunk, his accent just made him hard to understand.
Liam was now watching the bubbles from his drink float to the rim of his glass with amusement shining in his glazed eyes. He looked at Aleck, trying to think hard about what he had said.
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he said suddenly remembering. He stood from his seat and stumbled to the men’s bathroom.
“Sorry ‘bout him, love. ‘e gets obnoxious when ‘e’s ‘ad too much ta drink,” Aleck said to Samara. “Still a youngun, he is; a lightweight.”
She nodded in response to his apology. Danteous smoothed his hand over her back and some of the anger slipped away, but not enough that she was ready to forgive him. Perhaps she didn’t trust him after all.
“Is he here yet?” Danteous asked Aleck.
“Yeh, ol’ Merle’s in the back room. ‘E’s the one in the red,” he said.
“Of course he is,” Danteous replied. He leaned over to Samara and whispered, “I’ll be only a minute. Wait here with Aleck.”
She nodded again, not wanting to talk to him just yet. She was afraid she would choke on the smoke if she opened her mouth anyway. Danteous left her there and disappeared through a door between the male and female restrooms.
She was uncomfortable. She could feel predatory eyes on her.
“Si’ down, love. They tend not ta stare when yer sittin’ down.” Aleck gestured to the chair across from him.
She slid into it, crossing her arms over her chest for protection and glanced around the bar, not sure what to say or do. Even though she was annoyed with him, she hoped Danteous would come back soon; the people in here gave her the creeps, and she felt vulnerable without his arm around her.
“You’re not as cheery as yeh were the other nigh,’ somethin’ wrong?” Aleck asked with a friendly smile.
“I’m just not used to being in a place like this,” Samara mumbled, still looking around. She didn’t want to say she was annoyed with Danteous.
“Hey, Aleck! How old’s that kid? She old enough to be in here?” A chunky woman with dark skin and black curly hair asked from behind the bar counter.
Samara started to tell him she was twenty years old, which was three years above the legal age, and to remind him that she worked in a bar.
He cut Samara off. “She’s with Danteous!”
“Huh,” the woman scoffed. “Never mind then,” she rolled her eyes.
What was with this place? They acted like Danteous was some all important king who owned the bar and everyone in it. Not that this place was anything to brag about, but still.
A tall man in his upper twenties and with thin rimmed glasses slid into the seat to the right of Samara. He had dark hair that was slicked back to the nape of his neck. Samara recognized him as the third man from the other night.
“Man, Liam is just asking for trouble,” he said to Aleck, sliding into the seat to the right of Samara.
“Why’s tha,’ Marek?” Aleck asked.
He chuckled. “He’s in the shit room trying to sell people the toilet paper that’s in the damned stalls.”
Aleck laughed heartily into his drink. “Boy, is ‘e smashed.”
“No kidding! Damned lightweight.” Marek swigged a drink from a long neck bottle that had been sitting on the table.
He apparently hadn’t noticed Samara sitting there yet because when he turned, he set down his drink and said, “Well, well, who do we have here? Aren’t you the girl from that bar in, uh, where was it at? Desra?”
“Yep, that’s me,” Samara said dismally, almost ashamed to admit it now. Would she forever be known as “that girl from that bar?” Now she would probably be known as “that girl from that bar that the stud, Danteous, picked up.”
She was getting embarrassed; she didn’t want people getting the wrong idea about the kind of person she was.
“Let her be, kid. She’s ‘ad enough,” Aleck said.
Marek ignored him and took Samara’s hand. “So what made you wander in here?”
“She’s with me and you better let go of her hand.” Danteous had returned. Samara was relieved to see him; she wanted to leave.
Marek dropped her hand upon hearing Danteous’s voice. “Sorry man, I didn’t know.”
“He realleh didn’ this time, Danteous. He wa’n’t at the table when you came in,” Aleck said.
“Yeah,” Danteous said, seemingly not believing him. He seemed moody all of the sudden; the resemblance between him and Leela was astounding.
Danteous went to stand beside Samara and took her arm to help her stand out of the chair.
“Didja find ou’ anything?” Aleck asked.
Marek just nursed his beer, seemingly trying to stay out of things now that he had gotten on Danteous’s bad side.
“Nothing. But he said he has one more place to check out,” Danteous said.
“I wish you would jus’ tell me what yeh need. Then I could help ya.”
“No. You couldn’t,” Danteous said. Before another word could be uttered from Aleck, he added, “I’m going to get her out of here.”
“Aye. Good idea. This‘s no place for a lady like her,” Aleck said with a wink.
Marek gave the thumbs up sign in agreement, still nursing his beer. Liam hadn’t returned. Samara didn’t care.
“See ya, love,” Aleck said.
Samara forced a smile, holding back the desire to tell him, “No, you won’t.” She would never set foot in this place again, and since she wasn’t too sure about Danteous anymore, she doubted she would see Aleck again anyway. But she didn’t want to be rude since he hadn’t done anything; Aleck he had been friendly.
Danteous led her out by the small of her back and they were soon outside and in the dark. The clouds were starting to overtake Zephyra’s green light.
Danteous was apparently prepared for the lecture before she even started to speak.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you to a place like that.”
“The smoke made me nauseous and I was put off by the whole atmosphere,” she agreed, “but the bar isn’t what I’m concerned most about at the moment.”
“What is your concern?” His tone indicated he knew.
“Just what exactly do they think I’m doing with you? Do they think I’m some sort of tramp? And what do you think you’re doing, exactly? I’m not the type of girl who’s just going to be wooed by pretty words and do whatever you want,” Samara said.
Danteous stood there as if contemplating her. He didn’t look angry, he looked confused. She guessed he had never had a woman reprimand him before. Most of them probably did anything he wanted and went along with whatever he wanted to do, which made her even more determined to let him know that she wasn’t like those girls in the bar. If he thought he was going to use her, he was mistaken.
She crossed her arms and looked off into the distance, through the trees.
Danteous closed her in his arms.
“You’re shivering.” He kissed her forehead and then her cheek and rubbed the top of her arms.
She didn’t push him away; she was chilly and he was warm. Despite her being upset with him, she still felt secure in his arms.
When he realized she wasn’t going to say anything, he sighed.
“Look, I apologize for their behavior,” he said, referring to Liam and Marek, “they were just being obnoxious. I’ll let them know the truth about you, I promise.”
“What is the truth?”
He turned her so he could look at her and she saw he was smiling.
“That in only the short time I’ve known you, I have discovered that you’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. The most beautiful. You’re not a bar floozy, and,” he kissed her, “you’re the only woman who’s ever told me off. Family excluded.”
Samara laughed quietly and allowed him to kiss her once more. This time she kissed him back and he pulled her closer to him, shielding her from the chill.
So much for not letting pretty words woo her. She couldn’t help it, though. There was just something about him that made her actions contradict her words, something about him that wouldn’t allow her to stay angry.
“If you still trust me, I have something to show you,” he said when they pulled apart.
Something inside of her told her not to trust him. It told her not to fall into his trap. But she wanted to go with him.
“Show me.”
They walked back towards Kalahari’s and on the way, Samara’s anger faded completely. She couldn’t explain what she was feeling; it was all happening so fast.
Maybe it was the idea of him—clearly a libertine who only went after the ‘pretty ones’—wanting her; it was flattering. Or maybe it was the dangerous aura that was so appealing. Either way, she couldn’t stay mad at him.
They crossed through the front yard and passed by Kalahari’s house. All the lights were still out. Kalahari and Leela didn’t know she was gone, or at least, she hoped they didn’t know. They went by the well and Samara realized they were going into the forest.
“We’re going in there?” she said.
“Are you afraid?” Danteous asked.
Samara shook her head. “No, but there are bugs in there.”
“There are bugs out here,” Danteous said.
“Not as many.”
He grinned. “They never bother me. I’m sure they’ll stay away from you, too.”
She was still hesitant, but she didn’t want to make a big deal about bugs after they had just made up. She would gladly go into a dark forest before going back to Woo-Hoo’s.
Deep into the forest they walked. It was dark except for the patches of gray light that came through the trees.
The storm was very close now, the clouds covering most of the moons. She stayed close to Danteous, her senses heightened at the thought of creepy crawlies jumping or flying onto her; she thought she felt something wiggling up her arm a few times. She clung to Danteous’s arm as if that would stop them. Of course, he didn’t mind.
They finally stopped in an area more open, reaching a part of the forest that was growing on the side of large hills. There were a few scattered boulders. A group of large and small ones were in front of Danteous and Samara about ten feet or so.
The moons were now entirely covered, making it almost pitch black. The only source of light they had now were a few quick flashes of lightning. If Danteous hadn’t stopped, Samara would have run right into the group of boulders.
“Saigon!” Danteous hissed.
Samara looked up at him, confused, and before she could say anything, she heard something grunt. A big something. And it was sitting right in front of her. She gasped in fear, letting go of Danteous and stepping back a few feet.
“What is that?” she said.
The rocks started to move. A huge pair of yellow eyes opened and the cluster grew as it pulled itself up on four legs, all of which were as thick as old tree trunks.
“A dragon,” Danteous responded, taking her hand and pulling her back to him.
Samara was terrified. From what Cale had told her, the dragons followed Cyril. Dragons were evil beasts that hated humans. Her heart dropped at a new thought.
What if Danteous had made some sort of deal with the dragon? What if the dragon knew who she was and wanted to kill her because of it? What if Danteous led her here for that purpose?
She tried to slip from his fingers but he pulled her back, moving his arm around her waist and holding her back against his chest.
“He won’t hurt you,” he said against the side of her face.
Then, as even more of a shock, the dragon began to speak.
“Of course I won’t hurt her. I’ll save that for the time of sacrifice.”
Samara was sure the dragon could see the fear in her eyes, sense it in her emotions. Her muscles were tense, and she found it hard to breathe. It made sense that dragons could talk; Cale had said they were intelligent beings that could transform into humans. But, at the time, she hadn’t thought about it and now, hearing an animal talking was startling.
Danteous must have been able to tell how scared she was because he had taken her hand and was rubbing his thumb around it in comforting circles.
“He’s teasing,” Danteous said to her in a comforting voice, kissing her neck. He then glared at the dragon and added, “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, of course I’m teasing. I won’t hurt you, child. I won’t eat you, either; humans taste disgusting.”
She relaxed. A little.
“My name is Saigon,” the dragon said. “And yours?”
“S . . . Samara.”
Saigon nodded. “Lovely to meet you.” He looked at Danteous and his voice hardened. “Why did you bring her here?”
“I was hoping you would feel like flying,” Danteous said.
Saigon yawned and softened his tone. “I suppose I could stretch out the old wings.”
Danteous nodded his approval and then turned Samara so she was facing him. He still had her hand in his.
“How about you? Do you feel like flying?” His lips were pulled up in a half grin, almost like he was challenging her.
“Flying?” she repeated. She looked over her shoulder at Saigon, checking to make sure he was going to stay there. He had lifted a giant arm off the ground and was boredly examining his claws, which were huge, probably as long as Samara’s whole body.
Holding back a shudder, she looked at Danteous. “As in being tens of thousands of feet in the sky? On him? With no walls or safety cords?”
“I do it all the time.”
“Is it safe?”
“Perfectly.” Not waiting for her to object further, he led her to Saigon’s side and the dragon crouched down so Danteous could climb up on his back.
Samara watched him, her heart beating fast; she was nervous, and scared. When Danteous held his hand out to help her up, she hesitated.
“It’s a long way down if I fall . . .”
“You’re not going to fall.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I won’t let you.”
Still, she hesitated.
“How often do you get the chance to soar above the clouds, Samara? The view will take your breath away.” He certainly was convincing, not only his words, but the way he looked at her, the sound of his voice . . . it would be very hard to tell him no.
Taking a calming breath, she took his hand and he pulled her up onto the dragon’s back. The scales underneath her sandals made it feel like she was walking on rubbery sandpaper. Danteous sat down and she seated herself next to him.
“What do I hold on to?” she asked.
“Me.”
There was suddenly a loud whoosha-whoosha sound and the trees started dancing wildly. Debris—leaves and twigs from the forest floor—began to scatter. Saigon was flapping his massive wings.
After a few seconds of warming up, he pushed off with his hind legs and soared into the night sky.
Samara gasped and snapped her eyes shut. Her fingers dug into Danteous’s arm. She felt her throat fall into her stomach and then her stomach plunged into her feet.
The clouds had started to cry and she felt the rain on her face. They pelted her like icy needles. But it was only for a few seconds. When she opened her eyes she saw that they were now flying horizontally, above the clouds and above the storm. Below them was a sea of gray with violent flashes of blue, white, and purple skittering their way across the surface; the lightening was beneath her.
The view was indeed breathtaking.
They flew west and were soon away from the storm, over the city. The orange lights shined below like a magnificent display of candles floating in a sea of dark pavement with flowering trees surrounding it. The city was actually beautiful from so far above. Here and there were paths that led to the unknown. Lakes and rivers sparkled. People slept, unaware of the storm so close by.
Somehow, after the initial take-off, the ride was comfortable. There wasn’t unpleasant wind in her face, only a gentle breeze, and it wasn’t terribly cold as Samara thought it might be at such a high altitude; it was nice, almost as though they were surrounded by an invisible barrier. Perhaps they were. There was perfect balance on the dragon’s back; she didn’t feel like she was going to fall if Saigon changed direction. With the exception of the take-off, she felt safe. She wasn’t afraid.
She even let go of Danteous so she could get a better view. Crawling to the side, she looked down to see that they were back over the clouds. The lightning was intense. It was like a dance competition between each bar of electricity.
“What do you think?” Danteous asked.
“It’s gorgeous.” She was mesmerized by the lightning.
“It reminds me of you,” Danteous said.
Samara looked at him curiously. “In what way?”
He smiled, taking her fingers and locking them with his. He kissed her.
“You draw me into you, like the clouds draw you into them.” He kissed her again. “You’re like the lightning,” he whispered, “graceful, beautiful,” another kiss, “but just like it, there’s a fury in you that I can sense.”
“Really?” she said in a whisper, her breath ceasing until she became light headed and remembered to inhale.
She wasn’t really paying attention to his words; she was too distracted by what her insides felt like.
His kisses made her weak. He was still lingering over her mouth, not saying anything else. She leaned into him, connecting their lips again, and he pulled her closer.
The show below them was soon forgotten as the passion between them flared. Danteous laid her on her back against the rough scales of the dragon and was kissing her mouth, her neck, her shoulders.
His hands were starting to wander, which made Samara’s mind do the same as she kissed him back.
What was she doing? She had only known him—really known him—a grand total of forty-eight hours. She knew nothing of him except that Leela didn’t like him and he was popular at bars, particularly with women. There was no way he truly cared for her so soon.
She didn’t want what this was leading to. Not yet.
Especially not on the back of a dragon.
The dragon could talk for crying out loud; they might as well be in the middle of a crowded room. And for all she knew—and he most likely was—Danteous was using her. Her main problem with that was she was developing strong feelings for him already.
She wouldn’t be able to handle it if he got what he wanted and then never wanted to see her again. She had to stop him before things got too much out of hand.
“Danteous, wait,” she said.
“What?” he mumbled into her neck.
“I’m sorry. This is moving too fast.”
He raised his head and smirked down at her. “Want me to have him land?”
She sat up, pushing him off of her.
“I don’t mean the dragon.” She pulled up the sleeve on her dress.
Once again, the look on Danteous’s face was one of confusion. Like he couldn’t believe she was rejecting him. He didn’t appear angry, though, that was a good sign.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m not ready, we barely know each other.”
“So?”
“So, I’m not like that.” Samara said, becoming annoyed.
“Are you a virgin?”
She scoffed at his bluntness. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just sleep with anyone I find attractive without knowing them first.” Not again, anyway, she thought.
The confusion in his face became more defined.
“Just wait a little while, okay?” she pleaded. She wouldn’t give in if he said he couldn’t wait, but she was desperately hoping he would say he would.
He took a moment to think about it, something darkening in his eyes, as if he were considering it a challenge.
“If it’s taking you this long to consider, then you may as well just take me home,” Samara said crossing her arms.
He looked at her, that familiar smirk on his lips. “I’ve just never been rejected before.”
“I figured as much.” Samara rolled her eyes.
He took her hand back and kissed her fingers. “Can you blame me for trying?”
Samara smiled, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “No.”
“Don’t leave. I can wait,” he said, becoming serious again, and convincing her with another, gentle, kiss.
Samara sighed inside, glad he wasn’t mad at her. She wouldn’t let him know that she was relieved, though; she didn’t want him to know he had such power over her.
* * *
A little while later, Saigon landed in Kalahari’s backyard so Samara wouldn’t have to walk very far in the rain.
Danteous assured her he would be waiting at the well the next night. They kissed goodbye and then she ran into the house through the back door, trying to avoid getting soaked.
She didn’t succeed.
Luckily the door wasn’t locked. Sneaking into the room she and Leela shared, she grabbed the clothes from the foot of her bed and then snuck into the bathroom to dry off and dress. Once she was finished, she started to crawl into bed, looking forward to sleep.
“Where were you?”
Samara was startled as Leela sat up. Had she awakened her or was she already awake and knew that Samara had been gone for hours?
“I just went to the bathroom,” Samara lied, just in case.
Leela’s lips tightened. “I see. And before that?”
Samara chuckled. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you leave a little while ago.”
The dull gray light from the cloud-covered moons was the only light that snuck through the gaps in the curtains. They illuminated Leela’s cold eyes.
Looking down to avoid her glare, Samara didn’t respond; she knew she had been caught.
Twisting the sheet between her fingers, she waited for the reprimand. Leela was probably even madder knowing she had lied to her.
“I know you were with Danteous,” Leela continued in a warning tone.
Samara sighed, exasperated. “Then why’d you ask?”
“I wanted you to admit it.”
Samara turned her head to the window, feeling only a little guilty. A flash of lightning showed the rain coming down in sheets. It pounded on the window angrily, matching Leela’s mood.
“It’s none of your business,” Samara said.
“Like hell,” she growled. “He could distract you from your training, or more importantly, your mission.” Leela’s voice sounded dangerous. “Don’t you dare tell him anything about the orb or why you’re really here. He’ll just find a way to mess everything up, like he always does.”
Samara looked at her. “Why do you hate him so much?”
“It’s none of your business,” she mocked.
Samara glared, but didn’t say anything else. If Leela wanted to act like a child, she could, but Samara wasn’t going to do the same and argue with her.
Leela sighed, seeming to realize how immature she sounded. “He doesn’t give a damn about you. He never will. He’s cold and selfish, he only cares about himself. The only thing on his mind is who he’ll be screwing and when.”
“Stop it,” Samara said, anger rising.
“It’s true. Do you know many women he’s been with?”
“No. But I don’t care. I’m not concerned with his past.”
“You should be.”
“Well I’m not!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice. Hopefully she didn’t wake up Kalahari. Lowering her tone, she added, “All that matters is now.”
“He’s just using you. And you know it, too, deep down, no matter how much you’re trying to convince yourself he could possibly care for you, you know that he doesn’t, and won’t, no matter how long you give him.”
Samara turned her back and laid down on her pillow, pulling up her covers. “Leave me alone.”
“Stop seeing him. Before you get hurt.”
Samara heard Leela’s bed sheets rustle around for a moment while she made herself comfortable. Then nothing but the rain.
It took a while, but Samara finally fell asleep with questions plaguing her mind about Danteous’s past, and his present intentions.
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Shimmering moons, why do you die?
Have you been opposed? Turned from the ey