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Standing in front of Decima’s door, Sam waited with his hands behind his back. He knew first hand how highly tuned Decima’s senses were.

He’d made them, after all.

She was well aware of the fact that he was here. Knew that he was standing at her door waiting.

Pulling his hand around, Sam flipped his hand over and glanced to his wrist. He only had thirty seconds left or so before the time Decima requested.

Smirking to himself, he put his hands back behind his back.

If he was a betting man, he’d put quite a bit of money on Decima pulling the door open. In fact, his wager would be that she’d open the door right as the seconds ticked over to the time she’d requested.

Unable to help himself, Sam’s mind ticked back to a handful of minutes ago. Watching Jes and Aster’s heavy and sexually invigorating kiss.

Somehow, with a great deal of mental fortitude, Sam had pulled himself away from them and made his way here. If he had stayed, he’d likely have ended up having Aster, Jes, or both, on the table.

Likely for far longer than he had as far as time went.

Sam felt Decima’s presence on the other side of the door. Standing there, her hand on the door hand.

Is… she actually going to wait to open the door after all?

“Deccy, we both know each other is here,” Sam murmured softly, a wide grin on his face. “Do you really want to wait for the last second?”

“I’m… yes. I need those seconds to prepare myself,” Decima said through the door. “You make my heart run wild and my thoughts scatter. I have to prepare every time I see you.”

“Well. I love you, too,” said Sam with a nod of his head. He knew he was completely lost to his emotions now. He cared deeply to the women in his harem. Even a number of women in his feed harem.

His stone cold Planar Lord heart had cracked. Somewhere between Irma and Abigail it’d become something far different.

The door thumped lightly, as if Decima had put her forehead against it.

“Sammy, you have no idea how you make me feel,” complained Decima. “It’s an almost sick feeling at times. A sick feeling that leaves me weak and sweaty.”

“Of course I know how I make you feel,” he replied with a chuckle. Turning his shoulder he leaned up against the door frame, speaking into the point where the door would open now. “Because I often feel the same way about you. Just not at the same time as you do.

“It’s more when I think about… about the possibility of losing you. Something happening to you, or you deciding that you want no part of me when your contract time runs out.”

“When my-wait, really?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“Of course. I worry in my own way. I’m not human, after all,” explained Sam. “But I do wor-“

The door jerked open and he found he was nearly face to face with the beautiful ex-templar. Now that he was much closer to her than earlier, he found that her make-up was very well done.

Somewhere along the line she’d learned how to do it all on her own and well.

“I would never abandon you, Husband,” declared Decima. Her pretty eyes glaring at him. He could feel the gorgeous house-wife and templar witch-hunter auras from her in equal measure. It was a very strange thing to experience. “When my contract to you expires, nothing would change. Nothing will change.

“As I am your wife and that supersedes all other obligations. There is nothing that could ever change that. Our bond is eternal.”

Sam felt his heart lurch to one side and then beat hard several times. He could feel the absolute conviction and weight in her words.

Snatching him at the shoulder, Decima pulled him into her home and then closed the door behind him. She threw the lock and then promptly kissed him.

Kissed him in a way that was similar to how Jes and Aster had been kissing. A demanding kiss that was pushing him to devour her right here in her entryway.

Breaking her own kiss, Decima sighed and took a step back.

She shook her head minutely then smiled at him. As if she’d cleared something away from her thoughts.

“Now, you said you wished to gift me something,” she said, her thoughts clearly in order once again.

“Indeed. I do have a gift for you. Though we’ll need to go to your bedroom,” said Sam with a smile.

“You said it wasn’t-” pausing mid-sentence, Decimal huffed, grinned, then held her arm out toward her bedroom. “After you, Husband.”

Taking the opportunity Sam for what it was, Sam went ahead. Calling up the small fragment of the portal he’d left behind, he was already spiraling out the Essence and spell-work he’d need.

Entering her bedroom, Sam lifted his left hand and casually stripped Decima’s bed. Pulling off the pillows, comforter, sheet, fitted sheet, and topper. With a flick of his fingers he cast them all to the corner.

“What-I just put all those on for us. I literally just got them out of the laundry,” growled Decima, coming into the bedroom behind him.

Considering she couldn’t even work a washing-machine not long ago, that’s worth praising her for.

Just not right now.

“Well, it would be rather difficult to put those coverings on your marital bed, if I didn’t pull them off first,” Sam declared and promptly vanished the existing bed to the warehouse. At the same time he pulled forth Decima’s marital bed.

As soon as he made the swap, he felt a completeness in his actions. From the moment the house had been burnt down, Sam had been keeping an eye on the home.

Watching PID, the Fed, and the state government for the moment he’d get the chance to get in there.

Turning, he looked to Decima.

She was looking at the bed with raised eyebrows. Her mouth slightly open.

Without a word she got up into the bed and laid down. Right in the spot that she slept in. Rolling onto her side she went still.

“It really is our bed,” she muttered. “The same damn spring is stabbing me in the hip. It’s—”

Decima grunted, shifted around, and then laid unmoving once again. A slow breath escaped her, her body relaxing into the bed.

“You actually got my marital bed back for me,” murmured Decima.

“Of course I did. It was the single space in time and reality where you accepted your life, and me into that life,” said Sam. “There was no way I was going to let that escape.”

Decima had gone through a radical transformation in a very short period of time. One that marked her as an entirely different person than she could ever actually link to her old name.

“First, I must say that in this short period of time, in my new body, I feel I have lived as I never did before.

“Despite it being such a short time, I have lived more fully now, than ever before. Regardless of the amount of time spent.

“Second, I find you entirely far too romantic and caring for my poor heart to keep up with,” whispered Decima. It sounded almost as if she was practically speaking to herself. “That before this moment I had been contemplating wanting children and a fully family with you. That now my heart quivers at the idea of it. That I cannot wait to hold Abby’s or Irene’s child in my arms. They will also be my family.”

Well, that’s certainly surprising. Especially given that Irene is a Witch.

“Lastly, husband,” Decima said in a tight tone now. She lifted her head from the bed and stared hard at him. “You’re getting in the bed with me right now. I need you.”

Sam didn’t argue.

***

Standing in a small room with Carissa and Irma, Sam yawned. He hadn’t slept much in the last two or three weeks.

Most of his evenings were spent trying to turn Imps and Cambion inside out. From bed to bed he would go.

It was part of his duty as their Planar-Lord and Essence provider. Doubly so now that Jena’s scheme had fallen apart.

Last night had been different though as he’d spent the entirety of it with Tiffany and Stacia. From the moment he joined Tiffany and Stacia in their home, till he left it this morning, had been a never-ending series of three-ways.

Except whatever they did, always ended with him emptying himself into Tiffany with unlocked possibilities on impregnating her.

Now that I think about it, have I actually slept at all in six days? I don’t think I have.

“Are you not sleeping again?” asked Carissa.

Turning his head, Sam looked to the cyclops.

She was an excellent specimen of her race. Dressed in business attire that

Her short raven-hued locks were styled and pulled up and back from her face. Her honey-colored eye was staring forward at the point where the portal would open for them.

She had a build similar to Tiffany though though her disposition was nothing like her. Where Tiffany was quick to talk about her feelings after a fleeting defense, Carissa was often silent.

Reaching up she pulled at her waistline, adjusting the business wear she was in. She looked like she would be going to a corporate headquarters for an interview.

Apparently she felt his eyes on her and glanced at him then quickly away.

She was often watching.

Especially people.

To see if others would watch her. Or more accurately, her eye.

She was particularly sensitive to the stare of others at her single eye. More so that those who could see her for what she was, often looked away when she looked back at them.

“Not really,” Sam admitted. Not having looked away her. “Busy. Always working in one way or another.”

On his other side, Irma let out a long sigh.

“I wish I could say I don’t wake up at night, realize he’s gone, and wonder who he’s sleeping with,” complained the Imp. “But that’s the life I signed up for when I agreed to being his wife.

“And before you apologize, Sammy. I’m not upset. Nor do I expect an apology.”

Looking over to Irma, his first Imp, the woman who had made his life possible, had given him the ability to love and care for others, he felt rather guilty.

Incredibly so.

Meeting his eyes, she gave him a grim smile and raised her eyebrows.

Her long red hair held together in various clips that the whole thing hung behind her in a style that was her own. Something everyone tended to expect her to look like.

Her eyes were blue with long, thin, green strands of color coming out from the pupil. Sam often found himself staring into her eyes and finding them incredibly beautiful.

Today she was wearing what he’d call a business suit, a very similar one to what Carissa was dressed out in.

Glancing down at himself, he couldn’t deny that they were dressed all in similar colors and style. Irma had the clothes out for him, which meant she had likely done the same thing for Carissa.

I wonder if she would consider the clothes our battle-uniforms in this.

“Any questions? Meeting is set to begin any second now,” asked Irma.

“None. You’ve brief us quite well,” Sam said honestly.

Without Irma, none of this would be possible. He’d likely still be going from contract to contract like he used to. Living on his plane, treating the mortals like a disposable currency, and never realizing how empty his life was.

“Thank you, Irma. For giving me this life,” said Sam as that sudden moment of clarity dawned on him.

“I… well, Sam, I never—”

Before she could finish speaking, a summoning portal opened up in front of them. It was keyed to Sam and his brand.

Reaching out with his Essence, he could feel that it was the summoning they expected. The one they sent to all would be clients.

Everything was exactly as it should be as Sam had designed.

“Feels right,” Irma muttered, looking toward the spell as well. “What is beyond feels correct to. Sam?”

“Yes. It does indeed feel correct. Nothing out of place and everything as it should be,” he agreed.

Regardless of how many times these opened up, they would never step through one without inspecting it. It would be asking for trouble if one didn’t look into it.

“I’ll go first,” Carissa volunteered even as she strode forward. Not waiting, she stepped through the summoning spell and appeared on the other side.

The cyclops didn’t give Sam or Irma a chance to disagree with her or suggest something different. Acting deliberately and without waiting.

After entering the room she looked around, clearly made eye contract with someone, and nodded her head toward them. Breaking her gaze away she inspected the rest of the room.

Nothing seemed to be amiss.

Looking back to Sam, she gave him a subdued smile.

Waiting only a moment after that, Sam stepped through the summoning spell. Followed by Irma afterward.

The rest of the room was exactly what he’d expected it to be. A type of meeting room with a table, chairs, several decorative pieces, and a phone.

Light came in from a single window and Sam had the impression they were in a rather tall building in some type of downtown area. For the moment he couldn’t actually remember if Irma had told him where they’d be going.

Looking to where Carissa had ducked her head in acknowledgment, Sam found a trio of people. They were all dressed in what looked to be expensively made suits. Hand tailored to each person from what Sam would guess.

Staring at them now Sam had a strange feeling. Like he was gazing into a fun-house mirror. The longer he stared at the trio the more intense the feeling felt.

Building and growing, second by second. To the point that he felt like it’d become a kaleidoscope that was spinning rapidly.

It almost looked like one of the trio had just pulled something out of their jacket. But at the same time, it looked like they were standing absolutely still.

Neither Irma or Carissa was reacting. In fact they were having a casual conversation with the trio of people.

All the while Sam felt like sweat was beading up on his face and starting to roll down his skin. Even the shadows began to bend and shift wildly.

At the exact same time that everything came into focus for him, the summoning spell snapped shut.

It was a trio of golems. All without souls and powered by Essence alone. He hadn’t been able to see them because their was an incredible number of glamors on them.

Perhaps hundreds of them in fact. Hundreds for each golem.

All stacked atop one another. With slightly different features, looks, poses, clothes, and expressions. Over and over and over and over.

The intense and dizzying sensation Sam had felt was these glamors. His personal skill and natural ability had been tearing through it all. Breaking it down, ripping them apart, and casting them aside.

“It’s you,” said a voice. It appeared to come from the corner of the room, but there was no-one there. He knew the voice after a second of thought. A voice he hadn’t heard directed at him in a long time. “Sameerixis Fidenis Xilin Fisch Elh.”

The use of a good portion of his true name confirmed who he believed it was. Who he knew it was.

Jenaphila.

Damn. We actually walked into a damn trap.

Thankfully, Sam’s countermeasures to being locked away from his plane were working. He could gather Essence from it, send Essence back, even feel it.

All his connections to his people were all still active, working, and there.

“My, my, my. You look as delicious as ever. You haven’t changed at all. I honestly expected you’d have died by now. Dead on your plane.

“Certainly not here. Certainly not… certainly not stealing my things. Breaking my toys. Hurting my empire!”

Sam lifted his hands and lashed out with a spellwork of Essence. Trying to attack before this went any further.

Except that had apparently been the wrong action to take.

Rather than be destroyed, the golems rapidly were sucked into themselves. Everything of themselves being buried into their cores.

Building up on themselves and then suddenly exploding. Their Essence that’d been held inside them detonating and blasting outward along with all the material that they’d been made out of.

Essence made fire, bits of their bodies, and what looked to be literal pounds of ball-bearings that’d been in their stomach was shot out.

Throwing out a Essence shield around Irma and Carissa, Sam reached out at the same time. Pushing himself into the world around to feel what was built up around them.

“You stupid asshole! You’re triggering this too soon! I haven’t even had a chance to gloat over you yet!” screamed Jenaphila.

Endless numbers of intricate Essence spells had been scrawled into the floors, ceilings, and walls all around them. In all directions, including upward and downward, were filled with Essence work.

There was nothing in any direction that bode them any goodness. The only possible option that Sam could figure was the window. While they were likely quite far up, it was something they could do, that’d get them out.

Just gotta grab them both up and get my wings out!

Grabbing Irma Sam threw her up over his shoulder. Before he had tro say anything, Carissa had already spun on her heel. Heading straight for the window she dove through it.

Apparently she’d come to a similar conclusion to the situation that Sam had. It didn’t matter that they could be on the upper floor somewhere.

Staying in the building was asking to be killed or captured. That left only the window as a plausible exit that’d work.

He followed her out the window. Even as more of the spellwork laid out into the building went up in fiery eruptions.

Through the explosions, he could hear Jenaphila shrieking at him all the while. Screaming, ranting, and raving at what he’d done to her, and how she was going to kill him.