Deep within an underground cavern hidden below Harker Manor, in Scarlet Creek, New York, lies the enchanted circle to which Rhyaad had attempted to portal with ethereal magic once used by Elven mages. But Rhyaad is not a mage. Sam was the first to fall through the badly drifting hole in space, which had appeared near the ceiling of the cave. Rhyaad’s arrival was not quite as smooth, and involved a collision between his right arm and an iron bar, requiring the arm to be ripped off and re-attached. Fortunately Elenor Campbell, who is about as strong as any other werewolf, was there to help. Normally such a procedure would have been a very bad idea, for a human. But Rhyaad knew that cutting the arm off and then reattaching it would trigger that special vampiric regeneration. That didn’t make it any the less painful though. Our scene is in the cavern, where the screams of Rhyaad’s arrival have been replaced with the gently and bubbly sound of the cold stream that flows through these subterranean vaults.
Rhyaad lay by the stream moaning after a woman, who seemed far too strong to be human, had sewed his arm back together. Samantha crawls out of the underground stream cursing magic to high heavens. “Where the hell are we?”
“Hell . . . that could have been worse I suppose. But we’re in the caves under Harker Manor. In Scarlet Creek. New York.” Rhyaad tells her as he sits waiting for more curses to come raining down upon him, none of which could be worse than the ones he has directed upon himself. “S**t!” What could I do? What could I do? My responsibility was to you, Samantha. I had to do it. But I left Nikki behind. How could I ever do that? I made YOU do that. I am an ass.”
He sat up by the stream, staring into the water and cursing something in Elvish.
“And I could have killed you. Who am I to decide it’s better for you to jump through a hole in space then to spend the next 20 years in jail?
She stands hip-shot looking at him, “Well, I wished you had thought of that before,” she growls.
Rhyaad holds his head in his hands. “Sometimes you don’t have TIME to think. You just DO, and people who *think* are dead. But this wasn’t such a time for you. You would have lived anyway.”
“I could’ve talked you out of prison I’ve got lots of experience with that.” she tells him as she winces and holds her arm oddly.
“Talked me out of prison? How would you do that? What if they put us in a room with a nice sunny view?”
She looks at him, “Well, those rooms are just myths. But it would have been easy enough,” she groans, her face growing pale, “You have a clean record, I don’t and in the end setting fire to an old building is something a crazy woman does, not a Maine tea shop owner.”
“They’d forgive us for breaking into a building and setting it on fire? We were all in it together. Oh, and add running from police cars at 80 mph. No, I don’t think you’d talk them out of it.”
She staggers over and places 1856 Navy Colt the against his temple- “See how easy it is to get them to believe me.”
“Maybe you should just shoot me.” He groaned. “I deserve it for leaving Nikki behind.”
Samantha sighs and lowers the gun, “Fine, wallow in self pity!” She turns and begins heading down a passage way whose air inexplicably felt fresher.
“Self pity? Self…. stupidity! I should have thought of a better solution.”
“I’ll see you when I get back from Boston.”
“Sam?” He turned to watch her, wincing and holding his bloody arm. “You’re not going out there? With broken bones and” He suddenly stopped. “No . . . you’re right. I’ve been perfectly stupid. Maybe you’re right this time. It will be day by the time you get back to Boston.”
Samantha thinks of what a day can bring for someone like Nikki and stops . . .
“I hope Nikki has found a place to hide the camera. I hope she’s safe…”
She turns back to give him a hard look, “Well, knowing Nik, I would say for the moment she is safe, but probably not for long.” And then, she turns away and starts limping towards the fresh air again, disappearing into the darkness.
“Be careful. There are a lot of people who’d like to get their hands on us. Blair, for one. But he doesn’t expect you to be in Boston. Good luck, Samantha.”
He turned and stared morosely into the stream.
Cue Music End of Episode