by Morgan Rice
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As Sam exited the bar, having had a little bit too much to drink, he took several steps, then ran smack into Polly and Sergei. He stopped short in his tracks, completely shocked at the sight before him: there stood Polly and Sergei. And he was asking her to tell him again how much she loved him.
Sam felt jealousy and anger well up within him. There was Sergei, who had clearly traveled back in time to win back Polly. And there was Polly, who must have just declared her love for him. Why else would he ask her to "say it again?" To Sergei, the creature who had betrayed Polly once, and who had betrayed his sister. The man who had tried to kill them both in the Notre Dame.
And now here they were, standing, talking together. And talking about love.
Sam felt an overwhelming rage well up in him.
Sergei turned and looked at Sam, and for a flash, Sam could see fear in his eyes.
He should be afraid, Sam thought.
"Sam," Polly said. She must have seen the look in his eyes, too.
But it was too late. Nothing she said could stop Sam's swirling emotions.
He lowered his shoulder and lunged at Sergei, tackling him hard, and driving him all the way back through the crowd.
People screamed, carts were overturned, and bodies went flying, as Sam threw Sergei across the road with such force that he went flying, dozens of feet into the air, and into a huge cart of fruits and vegetables, knocking it over.
The entire cart went crashing to the ground, collapsing onto Sergei, who lay there, looking stunned.
"Sam, stop!" Polly yelled.
Sam couldn't understand why she was being protective of Sergei. That only proved that she did care about Sergei. That she still loved him.
And that just made Sam feel even more rage.
Sam charged Sergei again as he lay on the ground, ready to finish him off.
But Sergei quickly jumped to his feet, and suddenly took off into the air, flying away, to the shock and screams of passersby. Sam had almost forgotten that Sergei was one of his, able to fly, and with reflexes nearly as fast.
Sam stood there and watched Sergei fly away, the coward that he was, afraid to fight him. Sam stood there, breathing hard, and could feel the shocked stares of all the people around him.
For now, he would let him fly away. If Sergei was too much of a coward to stand and fight, then he didn't deserve to fight Sam anyway.
Slowly, Sam's anger began to calm.
"Sam, what are you doing!?" Polly yelled.
She was standing next to him, and looked pissed, hands on her hips.
"What do you mean, what was I doing?" he snapped back. "He tried to kill my sister. He tried to kill both of us! The better question is: what were you doing? Why was he here? And why were you talking about how much you love him?"
Sam saw Polly's face darken. He'd never seen her look so mad before.
"I was NOT talking to him about love. You misheard us. I would have hoped that you would think better of me than that. "
"Well that's not the way it looked," Sam snapped back.
"Well then," she said, "if you don't trust me, then let's just go our separate ways. We're not even together!"
Sam felt himself torn apart by his emotions - anger, jealousy, betrayal.
"Fine," he snapped.
"Fine," she snapped back.
Sam turned and stormed away from her, elbowing his way through the crowd, feeling hollowed out. His rage was leaving him, and was being replaced by something else. Sadness. He had felt that he and Polly were really getting close. And now, this. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but he felt that whatever it was, it had ruined things between them.
Sam hurried back down into the tavern, back to his table, and sat across from Caleb, needing a drink more than ever.
As he looked up at Caleb, who sat there, looking woozy, Sam could commiserate with him.
"Girls," Sam said, shaking his head. "I know how you feel now," he said. "It just isn't fair. "
Suddenly, Sam watched as Caleb reached for his own throat, as if choking. His eyes opened wide, and he began to quiver.
"Caleb?" Sam asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"
Caleb's eyes rolled back in his head, and he began to slump over, about to collapse.
Sam, with his lightning quick reflexes, jumped around the table and caught Caleb in mid-air, right before he hit the ground. He held Caleb's limp body in his arms, as the other coven members began to crowd around.
"Caleb?" Sam prodded, frantic, as he shook him. "Caleb?" Caleb did not respond, and his already-pale skin looked as if it were turning blue.
"We need a doctor!" Sam yelled, into the crowd.
But even as he screamed it, as the startled crowd began to gather around him, Sam knew it would be useless. After all, Caleb was a vampire. And only one person he knew of knew how to heal a vampire.
Aiden.
Sam picked up Caleb's limp body and burst through the bar, running up the steps, out the door, and with three strong leaps, jumping up into the air, carrying Caleb. He flew as fast as he could towards the only help he knew.
He only hoped that it wasn't already too late.