treacherous, and that he wouldn’t make it.
Sam, too tired to go on, looked up.
“FATHER!” he screamed.
His father smiled down at him, with a look of pure love, as he slowly pulled back his hood. The light was shining off of his face, and Sam could see that the two of them looked alike.
Suddenly, Sam stood in the cobblestone streets of Paris.
It was nighttime, there was a thick fog everywhere, and amidst the torchlight, he saw a huge façade of a church—
and somehow, he knew that it was the Notre Dame.
Sam opened the huge, medieval door, and stepped inside. It was gloomy and empty. He walked down the aisle, and as he did, he saw floating in front of him, a huge silver key. The light shone off of it as it floated, hanging in midair.
Sam reached out, and was about to grasp it. He knew that this was a key that he needed to have. Somehow, he just knew that this key would save his father’s life.
Sam woke up, breathing hard. He looked al around, disoriented, expecting to see his father.
But he was nowhere in sight. Sam spun several times, trying to get his bearings, to realize where he was.
He was lying on the silk blanket, on top of a hil , in a field of grass, and Kendra was in his arms.
They were both naked.
Sam thought back, and quickly remembered. Sleeping with her had been amazing, and he was stil shocked that she had gone from showing no interest in him to wanting to be with him so quickly. Had she been playing games al along?
Or was that just her personality?
Whatever it was, it felt so good to have her in his arms. He looked down at her pale, soft skin, her curly blonde hair.
Her chin was nestled in his chest, a slight smile on her face.
Was she just using him? Or did she real y feel as strongly for him as he did for her? And how was it possible that he could have such strong feelings for someone so quickly?
Was this al real?
Whatever it was, the one thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to be away from her side.
Sam thought of his dream. It was one of the strangest and most vivid dreams he had ever had.
He had never seen his father before, and the dream had felt more like a meeting. He struggled to figure out what it meant. But he had no idea.
Sam suddenly remembered something, and sat up. The afternoon sparring. He heard that Aiden would be there today, and he was determined to be there, too, to get Aiden’s attention whether he was summoned or not. He looked down at Kendra’s watch, and saw it was already 4:30. He was half an hour late.
Sam sat up with a start and hurried to get dressed, determined to make it on time.
Kendra sat up quickly, alarmed from her sleep.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Aiden,” Sam said. “I need to see him. I’m late.”
Kendra frowned back at him.
“I should imagine that your time spent with me is more important than your time with him,” she said, petulant.
Sam looked at her, and saw how upset she was, and he stopped.
“Please, understand. I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just that
—I need to see him. I can’t miss him again today. And I’m already late.”
Kendra looked away, clearly offended.
Sam didn’t have time for this, though. He finished getting dressed and jumped onto his horse.
He looked down and saw that Kendra was moving slowly, taking her time, gathering her clothes slowly and putting them on. It appeared that she was not going to be rushed for anyone.
Sam was impatient. “Please, Kendra,” he said. “I need to go now!”
“Then go!” she snapped, angry. “I’m not stopping you!”
Sam sat there on his horse, looking back and forth from her to the path, unsure what to do. It was clear that she was not going to hurry.
“GO!” she commanded, loudly.
He could hear the anger in her voice, and was surprised by her ferocity.
“Can I see you again?” Sam asked.
Kendra looked away, as she finished buttoning her blouse.
“Go see your little vampire friends,” she snapped. “They are clearly more important.”
Sam could see that there was no consoling her, and he didn’t want to waste any more time. He would have to deal with this later.
He kicked the horse and gal oped off, racing down the hil .
He only hoped Aiden would stil be there and that he could, final y,