Sam looked at his absurdly expensive watch and saw an absurdly late hour displayed in it – night was fleeing from the dawn that chased it mercilessly; time watching over their cat and mouse game with the utmost patience. He did not hurry to get to the other house; he took his walk step by step, unfazed and unaffected by time – after all, he had existed long before time had.
With each step he took, he thought of everything Suzanne had told him when he had arrived to the house; most things she had said he knew, but there were others that left him wondering, even if he was all-knowing.
He was in no hurry to neither see nor deal with Rowan; he needed to think the situation through and figure out what he was going to tell her the truth about her mother and the truth about him. He also had to figure out what Mephisto was up to; that treacherous demon was looking for something he shouldn’t be and Sam was going to get to the bottom of it, even if it meant calling on Him to help him figure it out. When one was inside The Game, regardless of who one was and what powers one had, one never fully knew what was going to happen; the only reason he was on Earth was Suzanne, otherwise he’d be watching The Game unfold from his office.
Rowan Cromwell, Suzanne’s daughter; the little girl with the big red hair and the even bigger green eyes – spitting image of mother and father – whom he had watched grow into a gorgeous woman of mind-blowing powers and extraordinary strength. The same little girl he had held in his arms when she was an infant, the same girl he had taught to read, write and use her powers, the little girl who had once loved and defended Leland Rosenthal, the girl who was exceptionally bright, beautiful and just as devious. It was heart-breaking to him to see what had become of her – a weapon of mass destruction and death, a vengeful soulless drug-addicted woman with vitriolic capacities for hate and revenge; a shadow of what she once had been, of what she could have been – it pained him to no end to see someone so close to him end up like that, especially someone who was closer to him than she would have ever guessed. It hurt him even deeper because her mother, as well as he, knew what was about to happen to her and there was nothing they could do to stop it. It was frustrating to have the power to do everything and the ability to do nothing. Being a helpless watcher truly sucked; Sam did not know how He could stand it. On the other hand, being a player also sucked, but when he had all the time in the universe and beyond to twiddle his thumbs, anything was better than, well, twiddling his thumbs.
But because Sam was down there as a player this time, he was subject to the passing of time; entity that found thrill in annoying him whenever it could. He found himself at the very gate of Calixta Schachter’s house. He rang the bell and Will answered
“Hello Sam, come on in” and the gates swung open. Sam shook his head and walked on, not wanting to know what Rowan was doing in the house, but he did. He felt sorry for Calixta, Will and the rest of the house’s inhabitants; he also felt a little bit sorry for himself. The hedges provided a welcome distraction for Sam as he walked on; the plush green of the leaves made him want to touch them and take their simple beauty with him. The front door loomed up ahead wide open with Will’s tall and looming body in front of it; his body casting exaggerated shadows over the ground that mixed with the filtering rays of light coming from the inside of the house.
Sam greeted the man once again and asked how Calixta was
“Oh mother’s fine. She’s still up knitting. She does not sleep until I do” Will commented, letting Sam in and guiding him toward the living room.
Madame Schachter sat in her velvet throne, knitting some garment of unknown purpose or shape. She looked up and her eyes lit up with delight and surprise to see the tall lawyer.
“Oh, Sam! So good to see you! You look dashing as usual” Calixta fussed over him in a motherly manner that was almost adorable. He smiled warmly at her, hugged her and kissed her aging cheek affectionately.
“I’m not as dashing as you are though, my dear Calixta. You look more beautiful every time I see you. How have you been?” Sam chatted with the woman amicably. Calixta called one of her girls and kindly asked her to bring some tea. The woman was so pleasant and lively he just could not refuse her a cup of tea and a friendly chat.
“Have a seat, Sam dear” she motioned to the couch she sat in and he took his seat next to her. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear
“How is Suzanne? How was her trip to the country?” Calixta spoke in a voice that was barely audible to human beings, but Sam heard it as clear as daylight. He cringed internally and answered in the same whispered voice
“She’s alright. She gets tired easily and she isn’t as active as she used to be, but she’s doing okay. Her trip went alright as far as I know” and with that, the topic of Suzanne ended.
The girl came into the living room carrying an ornate tray with porcelain tea cups, saucers, small cookies, honey, spoons and a teapot. Sam was grateful for the interruption.
Tea was quickly served and the small talk followed. The mood lightened up again and both Sam and Calixta were back to their cheery personas.
Upstairs, Will knocked on the door of the V.I.P room searching for any sign of survivors. The door opened on its own accord and he stepped in, mentally preparing himself for whatever was inside.
The canopy of the bed was torn into shreds; the bedposts were scratched and mauled and the covers and pillows belonging to the bed were nowhere to be seen. Delia was still tied to one of the post with strips of canopy, her face serene and slack, and her body breathed softly and deeply. That was one survivor. Where were the other two?
Will looked to the furthermost corner of the bed and he spotted Lucian’s blue hair and heard him mumbling Rowan’s name; his face was twisted into a satisfied, shit eating grin and his body was slumped over what seemed to have been a pillow at some point in time. Two survivors, one to go.
It did not take Will too long to spot David – he was laying on the rug, tangled with Rowan in an extremely obscene and extremely intimate embrace; his face was a rollercoaster of pleasure and satisfaction. Rowan had her eyes closed and rubbed David’s back, basking in that heavenly post-sex haze. She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw were Will’s shoes. She looked up to meet the face of the man, not bothering to cover up or excuse herself. With a body like hers, why would she excuse herself?
“Anything else, Rowan?” Will asked her, more out of courtesy than anything.
“Yes, I want to ask you a question” she spoke trying to keep a straight face.
“Sure, ask” Will sort of regretted his words, not knowing what else to tell her.
“Do you anyone or any place that can sell me some smack?” she was craving some drugs, anything to continue her celebration.
“There’s a one-week supply of it in that drawer over there along with all the instruments you need to fix yourself up” Will pointed at the night table next to the remains of the bed. He was relieved she hadn’t asked for anything else.
Rowan pressed a soft kiss to David’s mouth and went to the night table to get her fix.
David let protested with a moan and laid there on the rug awaiting his new mistress’ return.
Will asked if there was anything else she needed and she said no thank you. He walked out and closed the door behind him.
David was bad at waiting so he crawled over to where she was. She was kneeling in front of the night stand taking out baggies of powder, sheets of aluminum foil, a spoon, a lighter, a brand new syringe and a thick strip of rubber. Bless Will for the aluminum foil sheets – the man certainly knew his smack and knew the best way to get a kick out of smack was by chasing the dragon.
At the sight of her naked bottom completely exposed and vulnerable, he pressed himself, hard again and ready to go, against her rear and his arms surrounded her waist; his hands traveling down the now familiar path to the forbidden fruit of her womb. Rowan closed his eyes and sighed with surprise and delight. She was surrounded by her two favorite things in the world: sex and drugs. Her celebration could not have been any better.
Davey’s gentle rocking behind her and the promise of the drugs gave her an excellent idea. She shoved everything back into the drawer, took the drawer out of the night stand and nodded to Davey to follow her. She settled in the middle of the room and took out a sheet of aluminum foil, a bag of powder, the lighter and a leather glove. She slipped on the glove and pulled David toward her. She took his hands and put them on her hips, pressed another kiss to his mouth and told him
“We’re going to chase the dragon as we fuck”
David was familiar with the term ‘chasing the dragon’ and most drug terminology, but he had never done any drugs. But for her, he would do anything. Something told him that he was about to experience something even better than what he had just experienced.
Kneeling where they were, Rowan pulled David even closer and pressed herself against David; he groaned and he ground his hips and pleading phallus against her and buried his face in her neck, Rowan threw her head back and held on to the baggie with one hand and David’s shoulder with the other.
Rowan molded a sheet of aluminum foil into a cup shape and poured some powder into the makeshift cup. She put the baggie inside the drawer, took the lighter and pushed the drawer across the room with one hand, the drawer made a loud noise as the wall stopped its course.
She flicked her thumb over the lighter and the flame came to life; Rowan stared into the flame willing it to dance, David stared at Rowan and willing to become hers. She placed the flickering flame underneath the makeshift cup and held it between her body and David’s; her gloved fingers holding the edge of the foil and her hips resting against David’s restless and hardened form.
Rowan watched carefully as the powder started to bubble up and melt into a strange and smoky liquid; anticipation riding both David and her. As soon as the first swirls of smoke reached David’s nose and Rowan’s, David thrust forward and found himself deep inside the maddening confines of Rowan’s hot and yearning body. He groaned and inhaled sharply, pulling a mouthful of smoke into his lungs.
Rowan whimpered softly and her face lit up with the powerful synergy that the smoke and David’s thrusts provoked in her. She rocked back, quickening the pace, making her body arch and ride David’s. The drugs entered her bloodstream and she felt the impact wash over her and it overwhelmed her with the purest and most unendurable sensation; she rocked quicker and harder under the influence of that sweet rush.
If Rowan felt herself succumb to the sensation, then David was a lost cause. The drug took him to new heights and he felt he would go mad and surrender everything in him should the sweet torture of the chemicals and Rowan’s tight heat continue to wreak havoc upon his worn out body; his eyes were lost and wild, his breathing was deep, quick and erratic – a perfect match to his pace and roughness.
Rowan continued to hold the foil and the lighter between them; David continued to inhale the smoke along with her. She kept the movement of her arms to minimum and kept the foil steady; David’s hands clawed and dug into the supple flesh of Rowan’s hips and bottom.
She had the perfect apple bottom; the apple of temptation - just the thought to send David over the edge on which he had been teetering for the eternity of countless minutes. The force and the intensity of the physical and chemical pleasure of his climax knocked him out cold, not even giving him a chance to come down from his high.
David’s collapse and the knowledge that he had completely succumbed to her and the drug triggered Rowan’s orgasm and she gulped the smoke to mask the noises that tore her throat apart in an exodus of inarticulate bliss. She threw down the lighter and set aside the foil cup to hold on to the body molded with hers; riding him and the dragon she had set out to catch. One of the best dragon rides she had ever had, that was all she had to say about that - hands down, it beat that time in ’85.
Rowan laid there with the unconscious body underneath her, still high from cruising the heavens and beyond with her beloved dragon. She had gone without her dragon for too long and she had almost forgotten how he made her feel. She vowed to the moon and stars she would not live without her dragon again. She would not have come the way she had if the dragon had not helped her.
She left the man on the floor to the mercy of time and luck and gathered her clothes and her coat. She put all her clothes on and laced up her boots without a hurry, daring dawn to catch her in that place.
When she was ready, she went over to where the night stand drawer laid abandoned and picked up two bags of her beloved powder and slipped them inside her coat pocket –she would need those bags for the next day or so to continue her celebration. Every waking moment outside Oak Haven was a moment to celebrate, and celebrate that she would.
She chuckled darkly and blew kisses at her sleeping lovers du soir and whispered an “I’ll see you soon” before she closed the door and left.
She walked on down the hall and down the stairs with the smugness and satisfaction that only bona fide twisted sons of bitches can pull off. As she neared the first floor, she heard lively chatter and some laughter – one of the voices was that of Madame Schachter’s, the other one belonged to Will, and the other she recognized immediately. There was only one person in the whole world and beyond who talked like that. She sped up her pace, almost bolting down the stairs and the short hallway to the living room, happy to hear the son of bitch talking downstairs.
“Well, well, well I’ll be damned if it isn’t The Man Himself…” Rowan joked from the threshold of the living room, crossing to where the Schachters and Sam were congregated. Sam stood up first, then Will and lastly Calixta; Sam’s face lighting up as he saw in such good humor. He was glad the girl was fine, even if she was doped up on smack. The son-a-bitch smile in her face made him rejoice inside and give her one of those smiles as well.
“Hey kid, looking good. How you doin’?” Sam walked over and enveloped Rowan in a bear hug and kissed her cheek. She smelled good – she smelled like total debauchery and power. He laughed with her and she mused, laughing
“You legal bastard, you don’t age a day, do you?” It was true – Sam looked exactly the same as he had looked the last time she saw him…hell, he had looked exactly the same since the first time she had seen him. He looked handsome, friendly, sharp and American as always.
“Some thing never change” Sam’s lips curved into his trademark American smile – nice, neat and flashing a lot of teeth.
Rowan turned around and smile warmly at Will and Madame Schachter. She left Sam’s side and embraced Will and thanked him for all he had done for her tonight and to apologize for the mess she had made upstairs. Rowan’s body molded into Will’s massive frame, the softness and seductiveness of the woman who had just fucked three of his best people almost to death made him feel lightheaded, but he maintained his composure and hugged her back in the most sincere, polite and cautious manner he could muster.
Rowan’s hugged Madame Schachter even tighter than Will, complimenting her on the excellent service and her generosity. Madame Schachter smiled and blushed a little and pinched Rowan’s cheeks tenderly in a motherly fashion.
Rowan walked on over to where Sam stood and Sam took his turn to thank the Schachters and say his goodbyes. He shook Will’s hand and slipped him a rather thick wad of bills, whispering
“For all you’ve put up with tonight. If it isn’t enough, just call me”
“Don’t worry, Sam. It’s alright” Will nodded at Sam in gratitude and understanding. Sam turned to Calixta and gave the woman a tight hug and flattered her until she giggled like a school girl.
Will walked them to the door and bid them good night. Rowan and Sam walked arm in arm down the path, close to one another and making small talk all the way to the open gate.
“Hey Sam, I came with Dani…I think we left him in there or something” Rowan finally remembered her lost companion, worried about him and wondering if he was alright.
“Dani’s back home sleeping already. He’s been there for almost two hours. Will dropped Dani off after he left you guys upstairs” Sam informed her as they made their way up the street, both shivering lightly from the cold outside. They picked up their pace as they saw their house in the near distance; rowan asked Sam how his business was going and he told her about several cases he had been working on lately. She listened carefully to Sam as he talked and he fished around his pockets for the keys and found them. Rowan snatched the keys from him and took off down the street running and hollering
Sam trotted after her, gaining up on her with minimal effort and easily passing her on his way to the gate. She groaned and picked up even more speed trying to catch up to the man ahead of her; she gained momentum quickly and easily as well - she still had plenty of energy regardless of the sexathon she had just finished riding and the absurd amount of booze and drugs coursing through her system.
“Look, Sam! It’s the Prime Minister!” Rowan screamed the man in front of her; Sam turned stupidly to say where and as he opened his mouth, Rowan lunged for the gate and jumped it as if it was part of an obstacle course. He muttered a curse under his breath and laughed. He jumped the gate after her and landed without a problem. He ran after her and slowed down as he came closer and closer to the porch.
“Hey look! A bird!” Sam yelled at Rowan, who cackled evilly, turned her head and yelled back
“Nice try, Sam!” And she ran straight into the front door with the speed and force of a Mack truck. The door splintered in several places and her cursing and groan splintered the silence of dawn.
“BLOODY HELL! OUCH!” the forceful blow had knocked on the ass and left her holding her face with her hands as if the features on her face were about to fall off. She swore louder as she tried to get up and fell on her ass again, looking disoriented and pissed off.
Sam could not control the bursts of unabashed laughter coming from the depths of his chest. He stopped running and slapped his knees repeatedly as he continued laughing at the hilarious episode that had just occurred before his eyes. It was not the first time Rowan ran into a door like that – there had been many episodes like that one when Rowan was about five or six years old; he had never laughed at her the way he was laughing at her now – maybe it was because stuff like that was funnier when it happened to an adult.
Sam dropped to the ground holding his sides, gasping for air and laughing even more when he realized most of Rowan’s swearing was directed at him and the bird. Laughter -induced convulsion soon kicked in and Rowan joined in the laughter, pointing at Sam who seemed to have a serious case of the St. Vitus dance. A sleepy Suzanne opened the front door and giggled at the ridiculous scene at her door step. She grabbed Rowan’s hand and struggled to help her up.
Rowan dusted herself off, still chuckling, and went over to Sam to help him up. He gracefully accepted her offer and shook his expensive suit free of dust. Suzanne held the door open for the both of them and they walked inside the house. Rowan kissed her mother’s forehead as she walked in and Sam giggled behind her, mocking
“You kiss your mother with that filthy mouth?” Suzanne smiled and kissed Sam’s cheek as he filed past her.
Rowan turned around and told Sam where to go. He just kept laughing at her, thinking about how she had no idea of what she was saying. Little did she know.
“Ma, I’m going to for a little swim in the lake out back” Rowan waved at her mother and Sam and took off straight down the hall toward the backyard. Suzanne and Sam turned on their heels and made it for the stairs, holding hands in silence. Their soft footsteps resonated against the steps, punctuated by the opening and closing of a sliding door somewhere in the living room.