Devils Roses 04 - Witch

garbage pail, "Why did you choose his side?"
    "I didn’t believe they deserved what they had."
    She frowned.
    "The humans. I thought they were nothing. So weak and pathetic. I didn’t understand why we were trying to save them when we could use them."
    She pushed herself up and lifted the pail. He reached for it but she moved it out of his grip, "Uh no. I don’t want you to see this. It's nasty."
    He stood up in front of her, she noticed his body's heat and shivered again.
    "I have to take it Ophelia. I have no choice. You have to get rid of it a certain way."
    She held the bucket and shook her head, "No."
    He laughed, "Yes." He reached a long arm behind her and took the pail of goo from her firm grip.
    He took it and walked out. She felt sick and disgusting. Her finger tingled where he had rubbed their fingers together like blood brothers would.
    Aimee walked in looking feisty, "Have you seen Sam?"
    Ophelia watched Oliver leave and shook her head.
    "He told me what you had to do."
    Ophelia looked at the steely grey eyes of the death dealer and nodded. She didn’t want to talk about it.
    Aimee looked sad, "Is there any way it backfired a little?"
    "Why?"
    "Giselle attacked him and he smelled like sex on a stick."
    Ophelia snorted, "Gross image there man. I don’t know. I've never done any of this shit before. He asked I did. I can't seem to say no to him."
    Aimee chewed her lip, "Come with me. I think I know where he would hide from Giselle."
    Ophelia took her hand and instantly they were standing in the hallway outside Sam's room.
    Ophelia could smell it in the air, "He's here."
    Aimee flashed a grin, "That's the worst he's ever been. Normally he's just tempting. This is nuts."
    Ophelia looked at her and shook her head, "Let me go in alone. You look like you might eat him."
    Aimee squirmed a little, "I might."
    Ophelia knocked lightly and opened the door a crack, "Sam?"
    "Lydia came running down the hall, "NOOOOOO."
    The sound became part of the background noise. Ophelia saw and heard nothing beyond the heart beating in his chest. She took a step toward him. His dark eyes flickered when they saw her.
    Sam smiled at her, his eyes grew. He whispered, "Shit."
    She nodded and closed the door.
    Sam flashed against her, pinning the door shut. His mouth was on hers instantly. She was pulling her own shirt off as he was stripping his jeans off. They flashed and he was on top of her between her legs. His body slid against hers as his tongue licked up her throat.
    His huge hands pulled at her skin, kneading her as if he was trying to meld them.
    She moaned.
    A cold rush of air burst between them and she was standing in the hallway at Giselle's in her underwear and tank top with one sock on. She looked at Aimee who was wide eyed next to her.
    "What the fuck?" She asked breathlessly.
    Aimee burst out laughing as Ophelia burst into tears.
    "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." Aimee held her hands at her lips.
    Ophelia sank onto the floor to sob into her hands. She felt like a piece of her heart was missing suddenly.
    His fingers bit into her arm and she was standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Cold wind whipped her dark hair around her face.
    She turned to see Sam standing beside her.
    His dark eyes were filled with passion, "I've got to admit something."
    She looked at him, "I know. Witches are more sensitive to Sirens and angels. Dorian makes me want to touch him and I would run away with Oliver tomorrow. You, well you make me feel like I found the other half of my soul.
    He took a step closer, "It's not real."
    She reached out for his bare chest and ran her fingernails down his torso softly, "It feels real."
    He nodded and took another step closer, "I want it to be real."
    She gulped and let his arms fold around her, "What about Hanna."
    He shook his head, "I can't make myself love her."
    He lowered his lips on hers and gently brushed against them.
    "I don't think I can stop myself."
    "Then don’t."
    He scooped her up in his arms and knelt on the mossy cliff. His hands made fire wherever they touched. He ran them along her stomach and hips and down her thighs. She shivered as the cold wind chased his fingers along her skin. He bent his face and kissed her arm. He slid her tank top down her shoulder. His kisses moved along after the fabric, wherever it left he kissed.
    Slow burning warmth started to burn in her stomach. She moaned as the cold wind whipped across her naked breast. His mouth chased away the wind with