Secretly Sam

by Heather Killough-Walden

  She would do a lot of things for Maldovan. She was in love with him.

  Sam gritted his teeth and felt his left hand curl into a fist at the thought. What made it worse was that he knew the feeling to be mutual. Dominic Maldovan would do anything for Logan Wright.

  So be it, Sam thought. Then you can die for her.

  But later. Right now, he needed to concentrate on destroying that protection spell.

  He couldn’t physically touch the bottle or Logan, but he’d been able to get around that contingency by making certain he grabbed her arm over the sleeve of her jacket while in the car minutes ago. The material acted as a barrier, allowing him to stay her with a steady grip.

  To get the bottle, he could pretend to have gloves in his pocket and he could pull them out and slip them on. But why bother? It was time for this charade to end anyway. He would simply use magic.

  The fact that Lehrer and Stone hadn’t considered he would do so was not only surprising, it was insulting. What sort of helpless, mewling beta male did the witches think he was? But in all fairness they might not have expected him to regain so much power so quickly.

  No matter, he thought as he reached his hand out and smiled. Magic funneled down his arm and into his hand, filtering through his fingertips. They began to glow, and the potion bottle floating on the dirty water simultaneously began to rise.

  Beside and behind him, Logan and her friend gasped. Both girls backpedaled.

  “Dom, what are you – ” Logan asked. But she cut herself off and he sensed her mind working, knew from skimming her clever surface thoughts that she was figuring it out. Puzzle pieces were sliding into place for her.

  As she watched him, his clothes mended, his bruises disappeared, and his cuts healed. Oh, she was definitely figuring it out.

  Why he hadn’t touched her, why he was being so distant and gruff, how he had known what kind writing would work at finding the potion bottle and what kind wouldn’t – it all made sense to her now. Horrible, perfect sense.

  “Katelyn, run!” Logan screamed.

  Sam heard the girls spin, their boots crunching wet, fallen leaves beneath them as they scrambled to get away. He ignored them. The sound of their footfalls became fainter and farther as they escaped into the forest. He let them go. Once the bottle was empty, once the spell was broken, it wouldn’t matter where Logan went or what she did, there would be no escape for her. He would find her.

  The metal flask hovered in the air a foot in front of Sam. His grin broadened as the flask’s metal cap magically unscrewed itself and lifted away.

  The contact lenses in Sam’s eyes dissolved into nothing, vanishing on a changing wind as the bottle tipped and the potion began to pour out. His once more blue gaze shimmered and shined as the first of the liquid fell over the lip of the flask and disappeared before it hit the ground. His incisors began to lengthen and sharpen when the bottle was half empty. Finally, an aura of absolute darkness wrapped itself around him like a protective, royal cloak as the last few drops of the protective elixir exited the bottle and were blown away into the night.

  The spell was broken.

  The flask dropped uselessly to the ground and Sam turned to face the tree line of the forest. It was dark and quiet in the nighttime space beyond. The sun would rise in a few short hours, yet at a time when the animals of the wilderness should be out hunting, rummaging, or foraging and just rising to face the early hours of day, there was nothing but silence. Nothing but innate fear.

  The creatures of the natural world knew what it was that walked in their midst: Death.

  *****

  Meagan felt the soft brush of Shawn’s breath against her throat. She shut her eyes tight and tensed, waiting for the pain. The tips of his teeth scraped, both threatening and promising. Her heart quickened, skipped a beat, and thumped back into rhythm. Then she felt him go still, and his grip on her waist tightened. Pin points of pain at last blossomed as his fangs began to pierce.

  She whimpered – and there was an incredible flash of blinding white light.

  The air swelled, blew up like a balloon, and then shrank again, popping Meagan’s eardrums. She blinked rapidly, swayed on her feet, and groped for the wall. Motes of luminescence swam before her blurred vision.

  Shawn’s arm loosened around her waist as he pulled back and turned beside her.

  “What the – ” Shawn whispered.

  Meagan peered hard through the curtain of visual after-shock before her eyes. She willed it to recede, to clear, and let her see what the hell was going on. Little by little, it did so, until she could make out Shawn standing in front of her with his back to her and the figure of a somewhat older man standing just beyond the broken window of the cleaner’s.

  There was something off about the newcomer. He was bent over, his fingers pinching the fabric of his khaki pants, his expression one of interchanging awe and quizzical interest. He fingered his gray sweater next, as if he’d never before seen or felt woven cotton.

  And then he froze, straightened slowly, and let go of his clothes. His gaze traveled the length of the ground, following the trail of broken glass, leaves, and escaped clothing receipts left by Shawn’s rogue wind.

  When he saw Mr. Lehrer on the ground rocking back and forth, with all but the slightest shred of his humanity gone, the stranger’s expression changed. The confusion he’d worn a moment ago slipped away and something like recognition took its place. Then he saw Meagan and Shawn.

  His gaze met Shawn’s last. Meagan could feel the two stare each other down. It was a confrontation on a silent level, perhaps even on a magical level, as Meagan sensed there was something much more to this other man than met the eye.

  “This is not the place for you, dark one,” the stranger said. For such a seemingly unassuming man, his voice carried well. There was a note of authority to it.

  Meagan didn’t know who he was or what was happening, but she wasn’t going to let an opportunity get past when it presented itself. She pressed her palms to the wall behind her and felt along as she very slowly began to inch away.

  Like lightning, Shawn spun, his hand slamming down against the wall beside her head. His face was instantly within inches of hers once again, and Meagan swallowed her cry of alarm.

  “I don’t think so, Angel Eyes,” he told her, fangs flashing. “You will stay put.”

  Something buzzed and crackled, like electricity moving from one metal rod to another. Shawn glanced back over his shoulder and moved just enough to afford Meagan a view as well.

  The stranger stood in a fighter’s stance, legs apart, arms raised. The palms of his hands were glowing. Streams of white energy jumped from one to the other and back again.

  “Step away from the girl,” the stranger commanded. His voice had risen in volume and was now laced with what Meagan clearly recognized as serious magical power.

  He’s a wizard, she realized. And a strong one!

  Shawn turned fully now, leveling all of his attention on the newcomer. “Who are you?” he demanded icily.

  “The name is Draper,” the stranger said. “Hugh Draper.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  There was a moment of following silence after the stranger’s James Bond-like introduction. Shawn eyed the newcomer and Meagan could feel the irritation coming off of the vampire like a rolling heat wave.

  Suddenly, the wind that had kicked up earlier was back and once more rip-roaring through the little shop.

  Meagan ducked and covered her head as lightning seemed to strike inside the cleaners, illuminating everything in white hot magic. Her eardrums slammed shut to protect themselves, quieting the world in a distant buzz. In this far away-ness, the wind screamed, something in the shop overturned, and Meagan had a flash of real concern for Mr. Lehrer, whom she doubted had enough sense in that moment to cover his own head.

  Praying that nothing did him any real damage, Meagan waited the chaos out.

  Seconds that felt like centuries later, all was silent o
nce more but for the very loud ringing in the depths of her head.

  Meagan removed her hands from her ears. Ringing. More ringing. And footsteps?

  She opened her eyes and turned to find herself staring at a pair of sneakers.

  She followed the khaki pants legs up to the hem of an oversized gray cable knit sweater with patches on the elbows, and then to the concerned, friendly features of an aging wizard. To her, he looked like Patrick Stewart with hair and a beard.

  He bent beside her, offering her his hand.

  She straightened, and he asked her something, but all she heard was ringing and the muffled edges of words that were almost there. She tried to read his lips and experienced a sharp spike of fear that she’d actually gone deaf.

  The wizard frowned, his eyes widened, and suddenly he smiled, nodding. He waved his hand, said something else that she didn’t hear, and suddenly sound slammed back into Meagan with a whoosh.

  Now she heard everything: the wind dying down, papers settling somewhere unseen, and in the distance, the sound of sirens.

  “I’ve not been to your time before, but I have a feeling we must leave or risk a dealing with your authorities.”

  Meagan had no idea what to say to that. Life had taken a very confusing turn for the fantastical. She allowed him to help her rise, and then realized something was wrong. She was forgetting something.

  “Mr. Lehrer!” she exclaimed, moving around the newcomer to peer at the spot where she’d left her grove leader. He was still there, but though the transformation seemed to have completed, he was no longer conscious.

  “Mr. Lehrer!” she cried again, diving to her knees beside him. “Oh gods, Mr. Lehrer, please don’t be dead.” She placed her fingers to his throat while she muttered obscenities she didn’t know she had in her and felt a sickening fear scrape along her soul.

  There was a weak beat, and then another. He had a pulse.

  “I placed him in a stasis to protect him from whatever poison has infiltrated his system,” the stranger said.

  Meagan looked up at him. She swallowed hard and let her hand drop. “What… what did you say your name was?”

  He smiled patiently. “Draper,” he said. “Hugh Draper.”

  She took in the name and, this time she memorized it. Under normal circumstances, she had a good memory for names; she was lucky like that. Most people had trouble with it. Logan, for instance, couldn’t remember a person’s name to save her life.

  “You’re a wizard.”

  “Yes, that I am,” he admitted freely, still smiling.

  “What….” She turned a little on her bent knees and took in the mess around them. Serious damage had been done to the shop. Shawn Briggs was nowhere to be found. “What happened? Where did the vampire go?”

  “The vampire?” Draper repeated. He seemed contemplative, as if he was considering the description. “That is troubling. Tell me, are these beasts common in this time?”

  Meagan blinked. Then she realized that there was more to his voice that felt strange than the inherent magic that laced his tone. It was the accent.

  She frowned and slowly stood, taking in his appearance with a new eye. His clothes hung strangely on him, as if he wasn’t used to wearing them. His beard and hair were cut oddly, in a fashion she was not familiar with.

  “You’re from the past, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “In a manner of speaking,” he replied. “It’s a rather long story. There will be time for telling it later, I hope. However, at the moment I do believe it wise we make our departure, and not only to avoid trouble with your authorities. Your vampire will most likely return shortly as well.”

  The sirens Meagan had heard moments ago were much closer now. Maybe she’d set off a silent alarm when she’d broken the window. It was also possible that the destruction had simply gained some passerby’s attention.

  She contemplated Lehrer’s sleeping form. There was no way she could lift him. Just to make sure, she adjusted herself, reached down to curl her hands under his arms, and tried to pull up. Straining, she decided she could maybe drag him. But with the amount of glass strewn about the floor and the length of time it would take her to get him outside, dragging was not really an option.

  “How much of that magic do you have left?” she asked Draper.

  “Enough to help with this,” he said. The wizard waved his hand over Lehrer’s body and muttered words Meagan did not understand. Then he moved to Lehrer’s legs and easily lifted them and her teacher’s rump off of the cold, littered linoleum.

  Meagan’s eyes widened. She again tried to pick Lehrer up. This time, she was able to easily get him off of the ground. He was no longer heavy; in fact, he was very light, as if his bones had been hollowed out and his muscles had been turned to marshmallows.

  With that odd internal image forming in her mind, Meagan directed Draper toward the building’s back door, and together they carried Lehrer out into the night.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  No, Logan thought furiously as tears stung threateningly at her eyes and she ran full tilt into the forest. No, no, no, no, no….

  Katelyn had started off running beside her, the two of them crashing through underbrush and swiping away stray branches as they sprinted through the darkness. But Logan couldn’t tell if she was there beside her now and she couldn’t afford to look over and make sure they remained together; she could feel the evil in the night pressing in. It was coming for her. In fact, the best thing she could do for Katelyn would be for her to lose her and go her separate way. Sam would have no reason to harm Katelyn then.

  It all made sense now. The anger she’d felt coming off of Dominic was indeed directed at her. But he wasn’t angry over Alec Sheffield’s death; he was angry that she wouldn’t join him! He was angry that she was making him go to all of this trouble. No doubt, he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just stop fighting him. He’d given her a taste of his power, a glimpse of what he could do for her if she would accompany him to his world.

  And she still refused him. Yes, he was angry.

  She understood now why Dom’s eyes were no longer the piercing, vivid green she adored and melted under, but aqua, tainted with the blue of the man behind the mask. She understood why he hadn’t touched her. The spell Mr. Lehrer and Meagan had cast prevented him from touching her. The only time he’d tried, he’d actually grabbed her jacket, not her arm.

  She also understood why she and “Dominic” had been able to escape “Sam” so easily back at the train tracks. Nathan McCay hadn’t actually been Sam. He’d been pretending to be Sam and probably worked for him now. And the body that slammed into McCay? Another one of Sam’s evil concoctions, no doubt, and most likely just an illusion. It had been meant to throw her off and give her the chance to “escape,” which would allow the real Sam to get close to her and to manipulate her using Dominic’s body.

  It had worked. It had all worked and it all made so much horrible, terrible sense!

  Fury coursed through Logan. She was raging inside, more angry than she’d ever been, but not just at Sam for pulling the wool over her eyes and possessing Dominic’s body. She was mad at herself for allowing any of it to happen.

  She was so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  “If it were anyone else calling you such a thing, I would turn them into a pumpkin and carve them out.”

  Logan skidded to a fast halt, her heart leaping into her throat and her hair flying before her eyes. She hurriedly brushed it aside.

  Katelyn was indeed gone, having been separated from her somewhere along the route, either by accident or by Sam’s magical doing.

  Sam stood above her on the uphill trail and stared out at her through Dominic’s eyes, now fully blue and utterly alien to her. The moon illuminated him from behind, giving him an eerie, ghost-like aura. He looked different. There was an otherworldliness to him now, a sensation that he was something more than the sum of his parts. He was the king of another realm, the emperor of an entire
universe. He looked taller.

  He looked mean.

  The strong, intelligent, and beautiful rock god she’d fantasized about for the duration of her entire childhood had become a Death Lord vampire, composed of fast, hard angles and pale skin and sharp, sharp fangs.

  And there was no point to running any longer.

  “How long?” she demanded breathlessly. Her stomach was tied in nauseated knots, and her body trembled. Her knees felt weak beneath her, as if they would buckle any second now. But she wanted to know. “How long have you been wearing that mask, Sam? Since the very beginning? Since the school dance? How long?!”

  Sam’s gaze was ever steady, ever piercing. “Long enough,” he said. “But no. Sheffield was the first body I inhabited.”

  Logan processed that. It hit her like a ton of bricks. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You took Dominic’s body in the cornfield! You’ve been in him since the hospital!”

  He smiled, showing her those fangs she knew would be her guillotine. “Yes.”

  She felt sick; the nausea was getting worse. He’d orchestrated everything so perfectly. She’d been right about any lie he told; it would be elaborate. It was a work of art. Down to the speech about life and death and change that Nathan had given her at the railroad tracks, it had all been perfect.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, trying to pull her reeling mind away from the way he’d manipulated her into writing LEGO poetry words in Dominic’s bedroom and an entire mini-story in Katelyn’s car. If she didn’t stop thinking about it, she would end up trying to strangle him with her bare hands. Which would be worse than useless.

  “What exactly are you going to do to me?” she clarified. She wanted to know. She wanted to know just what she would experience as she died.

  “Logan,” he said, his tone intimate and suddenly gentle. He came toward her down the hill, each step deliberate and slow. “Sweet Logan. Don’t you see, I’m going to make you a queen? I’m going to make every dream you’ve ever had come true, and then some.”