Samantha HaineA Story by Jesse W. Short story featuring a character I'm developing. Reviews are very welcome.
There were no stars along the River Thames that wintry night.
That suited Samantha quite well; stars were natural, mystical in nature. She desired no magic but her own. She smiled at the looks she received as she walked along the railing, observing the bright artificial lights. They seemed to magnify the snow, making it whiter and shine more brilliantly than before. It was like a fantasy world, she supposed. 'Like' being the operative word. Having seen fantasy worlds, Samantha knew that most were simply dark places in the void. They housed the dank and decrepit of creation. In these places, beings such as herself were disposed of, without ceremony. Here, along the River Thames, in this world...she was regal. She smiled to herself as she watched a passing couple, enjoying how the man couldn't take his eyes off her. The woman, a lovely little thing, grabbed him closer and cast her a gaze that was clearly meant to warn her off, though she failed miserably. Her timid face couldn't frighten a pup. Samantha, however, was quite intimidating. Her hair was a bright red, not natural at all. She had purple highlights along the back layers of her hair, and when flowing in the wind, they blended together to make the most delicious haze of colors. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, revealing her ears. They were pointed upward in a sharp angle, almost appearing as though they could cut someone should they get too close. She wore dark eyeliner, accentuating her piercing green eyes that could capture someone in an instant. Her lips were a bright red, giving off a seductive glint in the light. She strode the whitened walkway, her hand sliding along the snow covered railing. Her nails were painted the color of deepest night, carving through the snow as though they were a knife. She showed no discomfort in the cold, not from her hands nor from her outfit. She was dressed in a pair of leather boots adorned with rattlesnakes, similar in form to those Clint Eastwood wore on his guns in the old Westerns. Hmm, Clint. she thought to herself with a smile. Her black pants were well pressed, clearly maintained with the best of care. They served to illustrate the width of her hips and the curves of her legs, as was their purpose. The white, button up shirt she wore was tucked into her trousers, held up by a pair of black, leather suspenders. They were tightly fastened around her shoulders, pressing her shirt tightly against her chest. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing her flawless, firm arms, unmarked by scars or ink. She wore a bright, red tie around her collar. As it flapped in the wind, an observant person would note it was accented with a metal pin lying in the center. "Ouroboros," there was an observant person on the walkway with her now, and she came to a stop with a soft smile as her new companion stepped closer, "The world serpent. In Norse legend, when the Ouroboros releases his tail, the world will end." "Simon," Samantha breathed, stepping closer to the man she had been waiting for, "My dear, dear Simon." "Samantha Haine," Simon smiled, looking very at home in his black, winter suit and trench coat, his dark hair slicked back and his small, round glasses framing his face in the snow, "My lovely girl." "Woman," Samantha corrected easily with a coy smile, "Have you ever wondered why the world will end when the Ouroboros lets go of itself?" "Not for an instant," Simon stood comfortably as Samantha closed in on him, "Not when I have business to attend to." "Ever the Victorian," Samantha laughed, "Why bother with people when there's a profit to be made? Ooooh," she placed a hand underneath his chin, stroking along his jaw as she spoke, "How I do adore that." Simon took a shaky breath, visibly steadying himself as he refused to divert his gaze from her jade eyes. Samantha smiled to herself, enjoying the feel of him. She lifted herself up onto her toes, raising her face up to lay a gentle kiss on his lips. She backed away suddenly, spinning in the winter as she let loose a sweet laugh. "What do you have for me, my dear Victorian man?" she asked, laying her hands on her suspenders and running them up and down the length of the leather. Simon blinked several times before bringing his gloved hands to his lips, pulling them away to find her lipstick on his fingers. He inhaled slightly without realizing it, enjoying the sweet strawberry scent before idly vanishing it from both gloves and lips. He eyed the powerful sorceress before him for a moment, his eyes running up and down her body as she smiled, her hands pulling her suspenders away from her body. He reached into his jacket and produced the token he had for her, and felt a thrill of satisfaction as her breath caught in her throat. It was a ring, ancient and bronze with intricate markings along the band. A learned person would realize these were Arabic in nature, but not like modern Arabic. The word 'wish' could be discerned in the light. "Have you...?" "Used it?" Simon smiled a cruel smile, "I am not weak, darling. I am a god in a world of mice, and have not the need for old magic to have my way." "Really?" Samantha smiled, stepping closer to the man, "Even with all your power, you weren't the slightest bit tempted?" She could feel it along her inner thigh now: a warm, flowing form sliding along her skin. It tickled her along her most sensitive spots, tight muscles coiling and squeezing her thigh and caressing her stomach. Oh, how she loved this feeling, this warm, silky flow of muscle that threatened to drive her over the edge. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes unfocused as she was lost in the feeling. She steadied herself as she listened, "-power that is finite is rarely useful." "I quite agree," Samantha enjoyed the comforting feeling of the warmth sliding along her stomach and around her back, massaging her muscles. "So tell me, Samantha Haine," Simon began, observing with some trepidation as she reached around his waist, holding herself to him, "Why this trinket? Of all the bobbles and wands the world has to offer, why this one?" She laughed, and this time he winced in response. This was a laugh filled with malice and cruelty, a laugh showing how absurd and beneath her she found the question. She stepped up again, leaning high into his shoulder and leveling her lips against his ears. "Infinite power in a finite form is still infinite power," she whispered before reaching out and brushing her teeth against his neck, gently biting into him and leaving him red. He recoiled, pushing her away slightly in response. His glasses blackened in the night and the lights began to darken around them. She took a breath, smiling cruelly at him as the snow came to a sudden end. It was an impressive display of power, but the comforting form now sliding along her arm reminded her of who she was. "Do not do that again," Simon whispered, his voice hoarse with wanton need. She lost her smile, her face taking on a serious visage for the first time in the evening. She stood straight and folded her arms, and the incensed wizard allowed the lights to shine in the winter as the snow returned. "Power is power," she stated, "But as you said, we are not mice, scurrying and biting each other for a bit of cheese. We are Lords of this world. And we must respect one another. I apologize, my Lord." Simon blinked. He knew this woman, her power, her rage...but he also knew her to be a woman of her word. So long as you had the ear of Regina Black. Still, that never meant she would show respect. In point of fact, she lived her life entirely devoid of the concept. In her mind, she was a queen and would be treated as such. Yet now, with her arms folded, showing off her lovely tattoo, she had given him respect. She must truly desire the ring. Smiling, Simon nodded his acknowledgement of her apology. "Shall we discuss payment, Lord Haine?" "We shall, Lord Simon," Samantha stepped forward, a slink in her step as she returned to her former self, "Are you ready?" "I am," Simon withdrew a set of matches and lit one, holding it in his hand, "I, Lord Simon Black of the Lords' Court, acknowledge that I have fulfilled my end of our bargain." "I, Lord Samantha Haine of the Lords' Court, acknowledge that you have fulfilled your end and am ready to fulfill mine," Samantha accepted a match from Simon and struck it against her tattoo, lighting it with ease and holding it in her thumb and index finger. "You swear to support me in my bid to remove my sister from her seat of power?" Samantha's eyes widened in response to that request. Of all the things to request from her, that was the last. Simon was known to love his sister, and had supported her bid for control of the Lords' Court and the eradication of the last dragon. For him to turn on her, now...it was a shock. "I swear it," she whispered, "For as long as either of us may live." The fire blazed in her hand as the wind picked up, forcing snow into her gaze. The fire was impressive for a short moment before dying down in the wind, leaving her fingers charred and blistered. "Your prize," he whispered, presenting her with the ring. She reached out, her hand still smoking and quivering as she grasped the ring. She held it in her palm, marveling at the small band of ancient metal. It glistened in the night lights, tarnished slightly by the age of the band. "Wear it in health," Simon smiled. Samantha looked up at him and in a fluid motion grabbed his coat and pulled him close, pressing her lips against his. This time, there was no teasing, no coy playfulness. This was a kiss born of desire. Their lips burned against each other, their tongues intertwined in a dance of lust. She bit his lip gently, reaching up with her hand to caress his hair. He responded in kind, his hands like silk as they flowed through her hair. She smiled as she felt it: that warm, velvet flow along her arm. She lowered her hand to play with his ear as they paused their kiss, leaning away to catch her breath. Her hand stopped at his jawline as he smiled at her, "That was-" His breath caught in his chest, his eyes widening as the color drained from his face. She let out a breath as she smiled at the realization. She pulled her hand away, revealing the tattoo. It had moved up her arm to her index and middle finger, the head and eyes centered along her black nails. Protruding from her fingertips were two long, sharp points. "Your tattoo..." Simon whispered, falling to the ground as blood slid from the two holes in his jawline. "A black mamba," Samantha confirmed, "A snake, Simon. My constant companion." The black tattoo slid along her skin, flowing away from her fingers and up along her collarbone, eventually resting its head over her right eye, its tongue protruding as though to mock the man. She reached up and ran a finger along the length of the snake, a gesture of thanks. Simon Black, as he was colloquially known, met his end after 400 years on this Earth at the hands of Samantha Haine, a barely hundred year old mage. Now, with prize in hand, Samantha prepared herself for the first true step along her quest. She placed the ring on her right hand. She used her magic to reach into the ring, expecting to touch a well of pure, infinite power. Instead, she felt not but an empty pit. "B*****d!" she cried out, ripping the band off her hand and throwing it at the still body of her adversary. She had been cheated this night along the River Thames. With a groan of frustration, she reached up, loosened her tie and undid her top shirt button. She stepped to the railing and with a wave of her hand, the snow disappeared, leaving a place for her to set her arms. She stared out at the frozen lake, her face a mask of rage. Her snake began to slither away from her face and down her neck, flowing down her skin and warming her body. She closed her eyes and leaned forward when the snake found her thighs, moaning as her body responded to the sensation. She had lost tonight. She could admit it, even respect how Simon had cheated her. Had she not slipped in the bit about her service ending upon one of their deaths, she would still be magic bound to honor her oath. She had clearly given the elder Black too much credit. He'd never been known to cheat another Lord. In fact, no Lord had ever been known to cheat another Lord. It was suicidal, as their community was so small, there was no way to avoid it getting out. To have risked so much on her trusting him...which, in fairness, she had. A mistake, one that had nearly put her into conflict with his younger sister. That was not a fight she could win...not presently, anyway. There would be other chances, though. She would find all seven and be prepared to truly remake the world. By morning, Simon Black would be covered in snow, only to be found by the first thaw. Before then, Samantha would find herself someone to console her suffering. It could be a college boy or a sultry model, or both, she was not picky. After that, she would resume her hunt. She would find the ring...the lantern...the bottle...she would find them all. There were no stars that night, and not even her power could manifest those heavenly lights. But one day, stars bearing her name, marked with her own power, would be seen from the River Thames.
© 2016 Jesse W.Author's Note
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