Chapter 21: My Goddess

Please REVIEW….I think this is a good chapter, I like it. I hope you do too.

For days I banged against the coffin door trying to bust it open, but it was no use. It was wrapped in silver. I had to get to Samira, if nothing else. I didn't know where they had buried her, but I knew she wasn't beside me. I wanted to hear her voice, at least. Why couldn't they have at least done us that kindness?

For weeks I felt myself grow weak and starving. After months it felt like my body was feasting on itself and killing itself even faster. Which I was grateful for, no matter how much it hurt, I knew it would last a much shorter amount of time than it would otherwise.

The last thing I remembered before everything went black was a dream. I focused on her, she was my source of strength. Without her I had nothing to live for, without her I would just give up and die in that coffin.

The dream I had was that I was back with her and we were in Egypt again. Or at least it looked like Egypt, it could have been anywhere in Africa or western Asia, it was all sand. I had her in my arms, which was the best part, and we were free again. We were happy. It felt so real that I felt safe again, safer than I'd felt since Hagan came along and destroyed our lives. I still didn't understand his fascination with her. I mean, he obviously knew something was different, especially after that fire. But even before that, something drew him to her like a beacon. The way he looked at her proved it and it was deeper than fascination of a possible new toy to play with, it was almost desire. I knew part of me didn't want to know what that desire was, because it wasn't sexual or lustful, the way Calix wanted her. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it wasn't good.

Another thing was that he was so protective of her. He had nearly killed Calix for even threatening to do something that he never did. Although, he wanted to, but he hadn't. I could only imagine what Hagan would have done to him if he had actually raped her. And after what she did to him – the fire – he wouldn't kill her. He wanted me dead and out of the way, but he couldn't bring himself to harm her in any lasting way. I decided when we got out of this mess, I was going to have to figure it out.

Something else that stood out in the dream was where we were standing. We were standing in the sun on a balcony of beautiful colored stone, probably granite, and watching the sunrise, or set, I wasn't quite sure which. I also took notice of what we were wearing. Samira wasn't wearing the same dress she always wore now. This was one was newer, more elegant, and obviously more expensive. Perhaps, it was merely my imagination showing me how much I wanted to provide for her, how I wished I could give her the life of a Queen and all the wonders of the world. She deserved the wealth of a goddess, to be able to hold the moon and the stars in her hands like jewels and bathe in waters of gold. I deserved nothing more than what I had, and I certainly didn't deserve her, yet she loved me anyway. I wouldn't blame her for hating me after all of this, though. Anyway, back to the dress. It was gold thread, and very flowy, very feminine like the one she wore now, except hers was old, worn yellow and green. This golden dress was sheath and draped just above her breasts, strapless on one side, flowing down to her ankles. She wore a sash of some kind around her waist, it was beaded and jeweled. She wore more jewelry than I had ever seen on a woman who wasn't royalty" a golden snake coiled up her arm with rubies for eyes, and at least two bracelets on each wrist made of gold and emerald. A necklace dangled from her neck resting just above her cleavage as if to draw attention there…it caught mine at least. It too was a gold chain with a large amulet shaped like a beetle with wings. The beetle's back was made of diamonds of different colors. Lastly, from her ears dangled ruby earrings nearly down to her shoulders. Her long black hair was held up by a gold comb accented with pearls leaving only two strands, one on each side of her face. Even her face was painted. Thin black lines were painted from her eyes and on one eye, the line turned to a curve going down over her face in swirls. Her lips were painted red making them look alive as if blood still flowed through them. She was absolutely breath taking. She looked like the goddess I wanted to treat her as.

I was even dressed in clothes I had never seen before. And I noticed there was a tattoo across my clavicle that I did not have. It looked like a beaded necklace. Rather than wearing my typical white, nearly translucent, clothes that all slaves wore, I was wearing something that even made me look royal. I had no shirt on at all, with a necklace matching hers settled at the middle of my chest. A white skirt of some kind with gold in the front and a few red stripes on each side. I looked as Egyptian as she was. It was odd.

Then she turned in my arms to look me in the eye and ask me a serious question. I knew so by the look on her face, it was calm, but her lips were in a tight line as if she were somewhat fearful of what I might answer. Her hands cupped my face lovingly and I couldn't help but lean into them wanting to feel her touch.

"Are you happy?" She asked softly. The question caught me off guard.

I sighed with a smile. It was such a ridiculous question that only she would ask in her insecurity. "Samira – "

"This was never your world, and I know this was not how you imagined your life. Do you want to stay here?"

Taking her hands from my face I kissed them on the knuckles and held htem tight. "My world is with you. And no this is not how I imagined my life, but I never imagined you either. I imagined a lonely life as an outcast hiding in the brush forever only caring about my own life. The last thing I ever expected life to give me was you."

"But this place, this lifestyle, you said it yourself, is not yours."

"It's not one I deserve, is what I meant. You deserve all this grandeur, this is what I always wished I could give you."

"If I deserve it, so do you. We are both traitors, Godric. You betrayed your maker, who in essence was your father, and I betrayed my own. I do not care how many jewels I have, or how many dresses. I cannot be happy without you, so if you are not happy with this, tell me."

"Do I look unhappy?"

"We hide our unhappiness for those we love wanting only their happiness, and you are no exception. You would tell me you were happy to please me every day for the rest of our lives even if you were on the brink of insanity. So please, tell me if you wish to leave, and we will."

"I appreciate the thought, love, but I promise you I am happy. I have a ravishing goddess by my side to call mine forever, what more do I need? Besides, we have finally come to a place where I know you are protected. We are not alone anymore, and the burden of protecting you from our enemies is lighter because they have also come to care for you, and they are also their enemies as well. It feels safe here, safer than any place we have hid in the past."

"So we are staying, then? Even with what they are asking of us?"

"They would let us stay even if you denied them. You do not have to do anything if you do not wish to. You are young yet, we both are, there is eternity left to worry about this."

"I know, I just – I feel like it's my duty. Something inside me is binding me here. Maybe it's fate that we came here, perhaps this is where I was meant to be all along, both of us were…together."

Hearing her say that warmed my heart, and I could feel the happiness wash over me even through the dream. We were together, that was all that mattered, and we were sure that we were meant to be together. This kind of love was undeniable, it was the killing kind, it consumed you until there was nothing left to claim as your own, it all belonged to her. Forever. And I was perfectly alright with that. I pulled her as closer as possible and kissed her lips and touched her face not even caring that the paint on her skin was smearing onto my hands. It could be redone. I wanted to feel that fire, that burn, and I wanted to live in it.

I picked her up and carried her inside off of the balcony and a grand room was revealed to me. We must have been in a palace, and I was sure that we had died and gone to heaven. How else had we come to live like royalty? The walls were the same color as the balcony, a dusty rose, and all along the walls were hieroglyphs depicting our story. I couldn't read the writing, but I understood the pictures. The man and woman were undoubtedly us, from the Oasis where I found her painted in bright blues and the tree I rested on in bright green. Then the hut we lived in for a time while hiding in Sinai.

Then I laid her down on the large canopy bed of silk, which felt really good under our skin. The sheets matched our clothes. The bed was big enough to fit four more people on it, but we took up as much space as we could taking advantage of it. She sprawled out beneath me allowing me access to every inch of her body as I removed her dress carefully. Now this dream was going to tease me by showing me what I missed more than anything, which was just being close to her let alone making love to her. Next thing I knew, we were both naked and I was inside her, pushing and pulling giving her everything I had. She took it happily, as she always did and sighed and gasped and moaned with every movement to let me know it.

Then it all went dark for what felt like eternity.

It wasn't until I was out of the coffin, I don't know how many years later, lying in on a blanket in a tent that I realized I was no longer buried. I came to for a couple minutes, long enough to drink a small bowlful of blood, then I was out again. I couldn't feel my body, it was dead. The process of bringing it back to life would take weeks, especially with the low diet they allowed me. They still didn't want me strong enough to pose a threat. I remember few moments like that where I was awake long enough to glance around the room and see that I was alone wondering where Samira was, then I fell back asleep. My body was in too much pain, it just wanted to shut down. I had no energy to move or speak. It hurt to even open my eyes to take that glance that lasted less than a minute.

Eventually I was able to ask the question I had been asking myself since I came back to life. "Where…is…she?" My throat felt like sand, and my voice sounded like it. It was barely audible, but Bearcban's servant, one of his vampires we had seen before, knew what I was saying.

"She's in another tent." He told me. "The women look after her, keep her safe from us men who may try to take advantage of her fragile state."

"If…you…touch…her…"

"Easy, Godric. No one is going to harm her, Hagan forbid it."

Hagan? No. Not Hagan. We had to leave. I had to get her away from him. I had to keep her safe. I suddenly tried my best to sit up, but my body would not move. It felt extremely heavy and cold as if it were made of lead. Cold metal was impossible to bend.

"You cannot leave, Godric. Neither of you are in any condition to move. Ten years you have been deprived of blood, and three weeks you have been unconscious. Bearcban thinks it will be at least another month before you can even walk."

Wonderful. We didn't have that kind of time.

"Besides, fear not, Hagan is not here. He left the day after they buried you and has come to visit only once a year since then. He was here the day we brought you up to give his orders that you remain unharmed. If anyone disobeys it shall not be pleasant."

What was he planning? Was he waiting until she was better to steal her away, and kill me himself? Why wait until I was healthy? Why not take advantage of my weakness and kill me now? The only reason I could think of was that to kill me now would be too easy, it would be almost merciful. He wanted to torture me, drag it out, make her give in to him. I couldn't let that happen. As soon as I could walk, I was carrying her out of here, no matter what it took. I could still outsmart them, and I had come up with a thousand strategies to use in those first couple years while I was awake. Vengeance and love were what kept me from going insane.

Finally, I turned back to the servant whose name I did not know. He was rather plain looking for a vampire. Perhaps, it was because he actually looked like a slave. His dark hair was matted down, short, and curly. His eyes were dark blue, almost black without the light. He had a very ordinary face, large pointed nose, small lips. He looked like the sort that would get taken advantage of, and not taken seriously. I bet he was abused, like I had been, and probably by Calix. "Show…me…" I rasped as loudly as I could but it sent me into a coughing fit. I even half expected to see sand come out of my mouth, but only rough air scraped against my already dry throat. Every inhale and exhale worsened. He cocked his head sideways unsure of what I wanted to see. I thought it would be quite obvious. "Samira…"

He shook his head. "That is not allowed."

"Please…" I wasn't fond of begging, but if it would get me to her side, I would do it. I would have done anything to see her after a decade of being forced apart. I went into another coughing fit, and he lifted me up a little to help me drink some more. The blood burned like fire on the way down, but in a good way. My stomach clenched for more. It was painful, feeling every organ in my body come back to life like rusted machinery crackling against each other trying to break free of the rust.

"Let me ask the master." He said politely and left me for a moment. I took advantage of it and rolled onto my stomach as best I could. That was the easy part compared to what came next. I had to crawl backwards out of this tent and try to get to hers. Moving my arms and legs the slightest inch felt like pushing a boulder uphill. I tried my best not to scream out in pain, but I managed to get my feet out into the moonlight that draped over the opening. I saw how translucent my skin was, like a corpse. My veins were black and protruding from my skin, I could have grabbed one and snapped it.

Then there was a shadow blocking the light from my feet. The figure bent over a peered in. It was Bearcban.

"Where, pray tell, do you think you are going?...To see your beloved?"

I gave him a cold stare letting him know how much I despised his presence.

"You may not see her right now, she has not yet come to consciousness. She is still sleeping. When she awakens and I know she is alright, I will let you see her. You have my word."

She wasn't awake yet? After three weeks? Oh god, I thought. They killed her. She was dead. Her young body wasn't strong enough to withstand the decade. Or perhaps it was her – whatever it was that made her different. She was much more fragile than they realized, and they killed her. I felt my breath leave me and I thought the blood that remained in my stomach was going to end up on the ground below me. My reason for living had left me. But I would not die. I had to fight, I had avenge her. Hagan would surely kill them all for me when he realized what they had done, the gigantic error they had made. Then I would kill him. He was the one who sentenced us to ten years of imprisonment to starve to death. I would rip him apart, drain the blood from his body, and eat the meat from his bones. I was full of hate.

How'd you like the dream?...Now think about what Samira is, what she can do, and look at the dream again. Wink, wink. ;) Hint to the future….any guesses?