Date: Sun, 23 May 2010 15:39:33 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Year of the Salamander, chapter 32

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All the resemblances are completely
coincidental. All the characters, situations, and everything else in the
story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between
males. If you are not supposed to read it, do not read it! Feel free to
e-mail me.

   This is a sequel to Specter'Gamble.
You don't have to read the first one in order to get this one, but it would
make it easier to understand the characters in this story.



- XXXII -



 * 13:30 PM*



            Sam woke up around one in the afternoon. He had no idea what
time it was, but the sun looked like it was around at least noon. He sat up
with a groan, almost hitting his head on that little table. He remembered
about it just in time, and performed some strange motion, trying to avoid
it. The motion was somewhat successful, so after he sat there for about a
half an hour straight, he decided to walk down the road until he hits
something that looked like a populated area.

   Sam didn't even look around him; every single thought of his
concentrating on the task of `Get out of here...! Now!'

   He walked outside and shivered involuntarily in the unforgiving chilly
wind. He glanced around wildly, and finally, he saw something that resembled
a road leading down – just what he needed. He started walking towards that
road, and suddenly, his left shoulder blade exploded with heat and mad
itching. He groaned and stopped, trying to reach that spot. He pulled off
his shirt away just a little and turned his head, trying to see what it was
that made him feel as if he were bitten by some very angry ants. He saw
golden glow on his skin. The glow was emerging from his tattoo.

   "What the hell..." Sam muttered, sinking his fingernails into his skin.
"Goddammit..." He gritted his teeth and bit his lip, scratching himself
furiously.

   The itching eased up a little, and Sam started walking towards the road
again. The minute he took a single step, however, the itching and burning
returned with renewed vigor. He hissed something unintelligible through his
teeth, locked his jaw tight, and kept on walking, trying to ignore his
shoulder blade, which felt as if it was on fire right now.

   "Oh, don't bother!" someone said seriously behind his back, and he turned
around, stopping once again. The flaming itching backed off immediately.

   "Don't bother," she repeated with a slight nod. "Even if you somehow make
it onto the road, you won't be able to go any farther..."

   "Eve?" he said incredulously.

   "How are ya, book-buddy?" she gave him a brilliant smile.

   "Holy hell," he muttered. "Desmond was right!"

   That statement made her frown.

   "Desmond..." she repeated thoughtfully.

   "He knew there was something wrong about you," Sam tried taking another
step and hissed through his clenched teeth at the splash of fiery itching on
his skin.

   "He did, huh?" Eve hemmed. "Even after I specifically told him to forget
about every single suspicion he ever had...? Man, he is the tough one," she
sighed. "Oh, well," she shrugged. "He did his part nevertheless... You both
did," she smiled again. "Oh, stop trying, book-buddy!" she sighed when Sam
wouldn't give up his attempts to get closer to the road. "Seriously, you
will only..." Here she frowned, watching Sam getting closer and closer to
the road. "Son of a bitch," she muttered. "What is it with you two...? You
are not even related, and yet both of you resist me like nobody did
before... Bizarre," she nodded to herself.

   She sighed deeply and clapped her hands. The minute she did that, Sam
felt as if he just ran into the brick wall face-first. He came to a dead
stop; all his furious efforts to move were ridiculously futile.

   "You know," Eve said with a hint of irritation. "I didn't expect this to
be so complicated. Hell, I even hoped to get some good, old-fashioned roll
in the sack out of it... Figured might as well, right? Who the hell was it
that you've met that one night?" She seemed to be genuinely curious. "I
mean, whoever it was, he must be pretty meaningful to you, since you were
able to resist a lust spell... Anyway," she sighed and looked up into the
sky. "It's almost time. Here is what I need you to do," she looked at him
steadily. "Get onto the top floor..." she gestured towards the watchtower.
"There is a table there. On the table, you will find a very neat-looking
silver dagger. I need you to bathe the blade in your blood... Well," she
shrugged. "Not literally. `Bathe' is just an expression. All you have to do
is to prick your finger with it, nothing more. Once the blade tastes your
blood, it becomes attuned to you. This is something you must do on your own.
Then wait for me there. I will be there shortly, don't worry," she flashed
him another brilliant smile. "This time, we will succeed, I am sure."

   "Screw you, bitch..." Sam panted, trying to overcome the urge to go
towards the watchtower.

   "Well," she hemmed. "I hoped you would, but you didn't, did you? Now,
enough chitchat!" she said sharply. "Start moving!"

   He gritted his teeth in the impossible effort to stay put. He felt as if
he was being torn apart with his own will and an alien desire to
`Go-go-go-there!' Eve let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes when
he was able to stop himself from moving.

   "Oh, for the love of..." she muttered and raised her hands again for
another clap.

   Right before she brought her palms together, however, a small sharp rock
whistled through the air and hit her right on the temple. She made a strange
meowing sound and collapsed onto the ground. The alien desire swayed and
disappeared into nothing. Sam looked around with wild eyes.

   "Sam!"

   He whirled around.

   "Desmond?" he muttered, blinking rapidly.

   "Yeah, yeah," Desmond muttered, grabbing Sam's shoulder. "You okay?"

   "I think so..."

   "Good," Desmond nodded. "Get the hell away from here! Run, okay?"

   "What about you?" Sam frowned.

   "I'll catch up with you," Desmond nodded again. "I'm gonna take care of
this bitch and I will catch up with you!"

   "Eve..." Sam muttered.

   "That's not Eve," Desmond said quickly. "The real Eve died back in
July... Long story, kid," he shook his head impatiently when Sam opened his
mouth, ready to burst into a series of questions. "Just go, okay?"

   "Yeah, okay..." Sam threw a quick glance at the unconscious young woman
and his eyes widened. "Desmond...!"

   Desmond didn't need him to say anything. The minute he saw Sam's
terrified eyes, he knew that the bitch had to be taken care of right now. He
whirled around just before she managed to clap her hands again.

   "Oh no you don't..." he growled and grabbed both of her arms, twisting
them behind her back. "Go, Sam!" he grunted, trying to squeeze both of her
wrists with one hand. "Goddammit, kid... Go!"

   The woman turned her head slightly, and suddenly, her entire body
shimmered for a fraction of a second, and then Sam's mouth hung open when
every single feature of hers melted off as if her appearance was nothing but
a liquid illusion. Desmond's eyes flew wide open when he saw who was
standing in front of him.

   "Tess?!" he said incredulously, without even noticing that his grip on
her wrists relaxed immensely.

   She flashed him a brilliant smile.

   "It's Leona," she said in a low voice. "But I see why you would think
that..."

   She twisted around and pulled her arms free. Before Desmond could even
move, she barked something in the alien language and waved her left hand in
the air in a sharp, precise gesture. Desmond's entire body jerked, and then
he flew backwards, slamming into the brick wall of the watchtower full
speed. He hit the wall with the back of his head so hard that he believed
his skull cracked open. Then he saw nothing.

   "Desmond!" Sam screamed after watching the man collapse onto the ground,
blood running down from his nose.

   "Enough!" the redhead turned around and clapped her hands. This time she
wasn't smiling. "I am running out of time! Go!" she ordered, and Sam groaned
something with desperate fury when he started walking towards the
watchtower, all his efforts to free himself were beyond futile.

   He slowly made his way to the door of the tower and wrapped his fingers
around the doorknob. The woman stood still, watching him like a hawk.

   "Hurry up!" she spat with a frown, and clapped her hands once more.

   Sam screamed out when he opened the door and walked inside, moving faster
than he did before. The woman let out a small, relieved sigh when she saw
him starting to climb the staircase. She looked up into the cloudy sky. She
knew that she couldn't do anything until the sacrifice bathes the blade in
his own blood all on his own. She looked at her watch and let out an annoyed
`tsk!' She had seventeen minutes until the right hour.

   "Hurry up..." she muttered with a tight frown, her foot tapping in the
impatient rhythm.

   Then, several minutes later, she felt tremors running throughout her
entire body. She immediately knew that the blade just received the blood,
and she laughed shrilly, the relief washing over her beyond overwhelming.

   "Showtime..." she muttered to herself and took a step towards the
watchtower.

   Just when she moved, she felt movement behind her back and tried turning
around. Right before she could do it, however, she was knocked off her feet
and she flew into the ground face-first. The impact her forehead made with
the hard ground was so great that everything around her swirled rather fast
and her ears started to ring. She mumbled something and shook her head. Then
she was pinned to the ground by something incredibly heavy. She tried to get
her arms free, but the second she moved, the weight on her back became even
heavier, and then a jaw filled with nightmarishly sharp teeth clanked an
inch away from the side of her neck.

   "Oh, son of a bitch!" she thought feverishly, immediately recognizing
that damn dog. The beast was getting in her way ever since she tapped into
Sam's dreams for the very first time. She hated Akbash dogs; the damn things
were ridiculously sensitive to spells of any kind. She thrashed under the
dog's great weight, trying to get at least one hand free. She could scream
spells until her throat was raw, but she would achieve nothing if she
couldn't move her hand at the same time as she chanted.

   The dog growled loudly, and then one of the paws pressed her even harder
into the ground, small rocks, and melting snow blinding her and scratching
her face mercilessly. She whispered a hectic chant, trying to at least move
a finger, ignoring the fact that those nightmarish teeth were so close to
her neck now, she could smell the nauseating breath that escaped dog's
throat. Finally, she succeeded in moving several of her fingers, and the dog
let out a high-pitched yelp. She almost smiled, but the damn dog ignored the
pain and sunk his teeth into her exposed shoulder, very close to her neck.

   She let out a blood-curling scream, knowing that she had maybe, five
minutes left until the time window shuts down. She screamed out several
bizarre-sounding words, ignoring the flaming pain in her shoulder, twisting
her wrist furiously. The dog yelped, and then the woman was free. She
shakily got up on all four, glancing behind her back briefly. The dog lay on
the ground, his paws twitching weakly. He tried moving, but all he could do
was to lift up his head and jerk his hips helplessly.

   "Goddamn dog," she hissed and raced towards the tower, ignoring the
desire to kill the beast right then and there – she had no time for this
right now.

   She ran upstairs, blood running down her arm in pulsating, throbbing
splashes, and when she finally made her way to the top floor, her head was
spinning and she felt dizzy. Sam turned his head and looked at her with
empty eyes. She grabbed the dagger stained with blood and took a step
towards him, chanting softly with great concentration. Pain and rapid loss
of blood made her disoriented and lightheaded. Suddenly, Sam blinked very
rapidly and took a step back, towards the window.

   "Goddammit!" the woman thought furiously without interrupting her chants.
"Stay put!"

   His face twisted in a tight grimace and his entire body shook.

   "Go to hell..." he muttered, and suddenly, he kicked the table at her.

   She swayed on her feet and dropped the dagger. Somehow, she managed not
to interrupt her chanting. She chanted louder and bent down to pick up the
dagger. The minute her gaze left Sam's face, he felt relatively free, and
without thinking twice, he flew onto the windowsill.

   "No!" she shrieked when she saw that maneuver. "No! Get down here!"

   "See you in hell, book-buddy," Sam said in a tight voice and took a step
out of the window.

   She screamed in helpless rage, and then she screamed in pain when her
body sat ablaze.

   "Sam!!" Blair yelled after the twitching body of the redhead turned into
a pile of ashes. "Sam!"

   He lunged towards the window and looked outside wildly. There was nobody
and nothing there. Just the dark water splashing below the cliff.




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