by Meg Ripley
Jadon winked and a voice behind them proclaimed, “I see Becca couldn’t resist your special white sauce.”
Turning around, Becca smiled at Jeremy as he came into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a trail of kisses along her neck.
“What have you been up to,” she asked when she pulled away.
“Just checking out my old room. Wanna come see?”
Becca smiled and allowed Jeremy to give her the full tour while they waited for Jadon for finish making dinner. She enjoyed listening as he recalled stories from his childhood both here and from New York. They found his mother’s old picture album stowed away in a cabinet and decided to look through it.
The sheer number of photos that she had taken was a testament to her wealth. Becca was in awe as she looked over the old photographs, so well taken care of all these years. Jeremy told stories about the ones he remembered.
Becca got the feeling they were being watched and turned around to see Nicholas standing in the shadow of the doorway. Jeremy was so engrossed in his story that he didn’t notice. Nicholas and Becca shared a smile before he disappeared down the hallway, Jeremy none the wiser of his father’s watchful adoration.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Weeks passed and the weather continued to turn colder as Becca continued seeing Victor Drake. Her panic attacks became more infrequent as she faced some of her bottled up emotions. She also started a regiment of breathing exercises that helped prevent her from going into shock when she felt like she might have a panic attack. It wasn’t foolproof, but most of the times it helped to calm her quite a bit.
Becca still had nightmares, but Jeremy and Jadon were always at her side to soothe her when she woke up. They were always diligently prompting her to record her nightmares in her sketchbook so she could go back and figure out what was triggering them.
Her sessions with Dr. Drake helped immensely, and after a month she decided to be brave and brought her sketchbooks in with her. Before her appointment, Becca sat in the waiting room and did her breathing exercises while Jeremy held her hand, assuring her that it was all okay.
“Remember, you don’t have to confront what’s in these books yet,” he reassured her as he kissed her cheek. “This is only so he can have a better idea of what you’ve been going through.”
Becca kissed Jeremy back as she picked up the stacks of small books and headed back to the office. She smiled at Victor as she entered and presented the sketchbooks to him, making sure she kept eye contact as she placed the stack in his hands. He looked down at them in amazement and then back up at Becca.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m not ready to talk about them yet, but I’ve looked back over them a hundred times and I want you to look at them.”
Victor nodded as he stowed them in a locked drawer in his desk to keep them safe and out of the way. Turning back to Becca, he asked what she’d like to discuss.
“I’m not ready to talk about the kidnapping, but I keep having nightmares about the night I saw that man die. I’ve gone over it so many times in my sketchbooks, but I don’t know why my mind just keeps going back to it.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me about one of these nightmares,” Victor suggested.
Becca nodded and began to tell him about the latest nightmare she had had two days ago. In her mind, she could still see every detail as sharply as if she was still living it.
“I was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace,” she began, and in her mind, she was back there, in the little house that they had moved into just a few miles down the road from the elder Mr. Ladon.
Her sketchbook had been on the coffee table in front of her, opened to a blank page. A sharpened pencil sat next to it, begging to be used. She could smell the Christmas cookies that Jadon was baking in the kitchen and heard him humming Christmas carols. Sure enough, he peeked around the corner of the doorway to give her a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Becca picked up a pencil and idly began to draw in the sketchbook. The lines were soft and delicate to start with, but gradually turned to hard, jagged edges. Her hand was possessed as it filled in the details. She’d seen the outcome so many times before that there was no doubt in her mind what was going to happen next. She wanted to look away, but it was like a train wreck, the horror too striking to avert her gaze.
The image turned from sweeping lines into a fragmented form that crumpled in on itself. Flashes of the memory, of a dead body curled up in a bed of shattered glass, flashed in front of her eyes.
“What are you drawing?” she heard Victor’s voice like a far-off whisper in her mind.
“The body,” she said to herself. “The dead body I saw that night.”
Victor asked another question, but he was too far away in her mind for her to hear him. Her ears were ringing, a high persistent pitch that continued to grow more and more intense as it continued. The pencil moved in furious hatched lines and Becca could feel the tears streaming down her face as the image developed fully, the broken body snugly nestled between the shards of glass that stuck out in every direction.
She was crying because the body was not the man she had seen at the motel those months before. It was just as she had seen when she was at Victoria’s house. It was Jeremy.
Her tears were flowing in full force and she knew what part was coming next. The droplets fell onto the page, highlighting the wounds of the body and turning the paper bright red. Becca sobbed freely as the tears filled up the world around her, suspending her in the dark void of her mind.
A shimmer streaked past her and a dragon with flaming blue eyes reared up in front of Becca, sending her tumbling backwards. As she fell through the space, she saw the car beneath her. It was approaching fast and there was nothing she could do to stop it except to throw her arms in front of her face and brace for impact.
Becca resurfaced to Victor shaking her awake. She couldn’t identify what had happened, but when she looked down, Dr. Drake’s journal was in her hands and she had drawn the image from her dream. Her whole body trembled as she continued to stare at the image. The crumpled body was an exact likeness of Jeremy.
Victor took the journal away and placed it on his desk. “This is more than just a dream.”
“What do you mean,” Becca asked.
“I have no idea,” Victor said. “The closest thing that I’ve seen to this behavior is people who have premonitions, but they usually don’t have them as recurring nightmares.”
Becca sat silently in the chair while Victor jotted down notes in the journal page next to her drawing in a mixture of curiosity and anxiety.
“What am I supposed to do,” she finally demanded.
Victor looked up from his writing. “For now, just try to sleep. I’ll have to look through your sketchbooks to see if I can glean clues as to what’s going on.”
Becca nodded and then stood to leave. As she reached out to grab the doorknob, Victor called out.
“Yes,” she said hopefully as she turned around to face him.
“It’s just a dream,” he insisted as he gave her a stern look. “It’s strange and may seem like it could be more, but it is just a dream.”
The corner of Becca’s mouth stretched awkwardly as she attempted to smile. “Yeah, just a dream.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Becca walked into the waiting room, Jeremy rushed forward to take her in his arms. He held her close as Becca fought back the tears that were welling up inside her.
“What’s wrong,” he asked as he stroked her hair.
“Nothing,” she lied. “Just a lot of emotion to go through today.”
Jeremy held her for a moment and rubbed her back. “It’ll all be okay.”
They stood in the waiting room a little while longer before they finally opted to leave. As they headed out to the parking lot, Jeremy’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Becca could see the confusion on his
face as he looked at the number and answered.
Faintly, she thought she heard crying on the other end as Jeremy’s face contorted to calm anger, his countenance taking on the appearance of a man with a mission as he hung up the phone and stuck it back in his pocket.
Now it was Becca’s turn to ask, “What’s wrong?”
Jeremy stared straight ahead as he answered through tight lips. “Mimi.”
They wordlessly got into the new Corvette he had bought and Jeremy screeched out of the parking lot before Becca even had time to put her seatbelt on. She could feel the anger radiating from Jeremy in waves of heat. It was scary to see him like this and Becca unconsciously cringed in her seat, trying to make herself invisible to him in case his anger lashed out unexpectedly.
Every turn made the tires squeal with displeasure, and a couple of times, Becca felt the car tip onto two wheels. She held on for dear life as Jeremy sped down the road without the slightest concern for safety, much less traffic laws.
Jamming on the breaks, the tires screamed against the pavement as the car turned into the driveway, leaving black skid marks in its wake. The car had barely stopped, or might have still been in motion when Jeremy opened his door and stepped out, leaving the keys in the ignition.
Becca scrambled out after him, calling his name as he headed inside.
“Wait,” she begged as he threw open the front door and she ran in after him.
When she got inside, Jeremy was standing next to Jadon, their heads were close together and they were speaking in low voices. Becca’s own temper flared as she strode forward and demanded to know what was going on.
Jeremy walked away in silence as Jadon revealed, “The Order. They have Mimi and they’re using her as bait for us to come turn ourselves over.”
Becca stood there in shock for a moment while Jeremy continued to pace back and forth through the living room. He never had gone for that haircut, and now the shaggy black mass hung in front of his face, hiding his thoughts from her.
“Well? You have to go save her,” Becca said in hopes of stirring Jadon and Jeremy to action.
“It’s not that simple,” Jeremy tried to explain.
“But it is,” Becca insisted. “She’s your little sister, and you have to go and save her.”
“This is the Order of Saint George who has her,” Jeremy argued. “They know what we are and what we’re capable of.”
“Then they were fools to think they could ever harm your sister,” she said is a quiet and deadly voice that sent a chill racing down her own spine.
Jeremy’s jaw was clenched tight, but she saw the twitch of a proud smile threatening to show. His eyes on the other hand, gave it away as they glowed with pride and love.
Becca stepped forward, following the script of every action movie ever as Jeremy took her by the waist and kissed her deeply. His lips were filled with so much raw emotion that it felt like a shock of electricity running through her body. She pressed for more, but he pulled away.
“Stay here,” he said as he followed Jadon’s footsteps out the door. “Stay hidden, and don’t let anyone in the house.”
“But I−”
“Stay!” He instructed as she tried to follow him.
“Jeremy−”
Groaning with exasperation, he came back and took her by the shoulders. “Becca, I can’t have anything happen to you. I need you to stay here, where it’s safe, while we go and rescue Mimi...I’ll come back. I swear.”
He gave her another swift kiss on the lips and was out the door before she could protest any further. Becca hung onto the doorway, watching the sky as the two black forms raced in the direction of the Ladon estate.
As she watched them go, a million thoughts ran through her mind. All of them returned to her nightmare and the image of Jeremy’s broken body. Her heart began to race, but this was not a panic attack.
Digging inside her purse, she finally laid hands on her own phone. Scrolling through her contacts list, she found the number for Victor’s office and called, hoping that he was still there.
The phone rang, and rang again. Becca closed her eyes and prayed as the next ring ended. A fourth ring started, but was cut short by the clunk of the phone being picked up.
“Hello?”
“Victor, they have Mimi! The Order, they have Mimi and Jeremy and Jadon just left to rescue her!”
He listened silently, immediately understanding her concerns. When she finished, he calmly replied, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Becca thanked him through choking sobs and attempted to wipe the tears from her face as she turned off the phone and sank to her knees in the doorway. The sky was darkening quickly overhead and a pair of headlights in the distance caught Becca’s attention.
She slowly stood and stepped back into the house. Easing the door shut, Becca made sure all of the lights were off. She sat next to the front window and watched as the vehicle approached; a black pickup truck pulled into the driveway, its headlights shining brightly into the front window.
Becca scurried to the kitchen as she heard one man shouting muffled orders to the others. There, she pulled out two large knives from the wooden block that sat on the counter next to the stove. She stayed crouched behind the counters, ready to defend herself as she heard the crash of someone kicking in the front door.
She took slow, deep breaths as the footsteps filled the living room. Beams of light from flashlights bounced around the rooms as the strangers’ voices gave orders.
The first footsteps reached the kitchen and Becca pounced on the stranger, knocking the gun from his hands as she slashed at him wildly with the knives. The next man in the formation tried to pull her off of her victim as he wailed in agony, and Becca struck out at him as well. Another man stepped forward to help the second injured man finally wrestle Becca, who was screaming like a wild animal, to the floor.
As they pried the knives from her clenched fists, she kicked and bit at them, refusing to be subdued. They finally managed to hold her down once a third man came to their aid, stuffing a dish towel in her mouth to quiet her screams.
CHAPTER NINE
After checking the rest of the house to make sure that Jeremy and Jadon were not present, the men decided to load Becca into their truck, another piece of bait for them to taunt the dragons with.
She kicked and struggled as they wrestled her out the door, giving no inch willingly as they moved her towards the vehicle. The first man she had attacked was already in the back seat, his wounds being attended to with bandages and topical antibiotics. Becca fought against the dish towel gag and stomped on nearby feet—anything to slow the progression.
Her delays finally paid off as a black shape descended from the dark clouds and the men who held her found themselves flung back hundreds of feet, their vocal cords exposed through great gaping holes that had been torn in their necks. Their bloody fate did not phase her as she watched the shimmering black mass tear all of the men out of the vehicle, distributing the same punishment with equal relish amongst them.
When all of the men had been taken care of, the dragon turned to Becca, red eyes aflame as it drew itself up to its full height and looked down at her.
“Thank you, Nicholas,” she said. He bowed his head before taking to the sky and darting in the direction of his home.
Becca felt the instincts of watching too many actions movies—and playing too many video games—overcome her as she checked the bodies of the men from the Order of Saint George. She took two handguns and tucked one into the front of her jeans, and the other against her back side. From another fallen enemy, she took a shotgun and extra rounds of ammo. Back in the truck, an assault rifle laid across the front passenger seat where it had been dropped. She set the shotgun next to it and slammed the door closed.
Becca quickly made her way around the front end of the truck, hopped into the driver’s seat, turned the key and peeled out of the driveway. As she headed towards the
Ladon estate, Becca noted the shapes that moved in the clouds above her in the last of the evening light.
When the house came into view, she saw the product of her phone call. A swarm of dragons circled the house where men dressed in black aimed their weapons at the sky. She checked her seatbelt and slammed her foot against the gas pedal—all the way into the floor.
The truck accelerated as she turned into the driveway and headed straight for the blockade of trucks that had gathered in front of the entrance to the house. Before impact, she jerked the emergency brake and spun the wheel of the truck so that the passenger side slammed into the other vehicles.
Becca was shocked by her own actions as the airbags deployed, knocking her back in her seat. For a moment, she sat in the wrecked truck, stunned, until the yells of the small army outside spurred her back into action.
Undoing her seatbelt, Becca reached over for the shotgun. The assault rifle had fallen under the seat and she didn’t have the time or inclination to look for it. She wrestled the door of the truck open and jumped down, holding the shotgun at the ready.
She tried to recall what she had learned the one time an ex-boyfriend had taken her to a shooting range, but nothing came to mind. Anything she did remember was pure muscle memory.
Her aim was terrible, but the shotgun spread did the work for her as Becca caught the members of the Order of Saint George unaware. While they looked up to the sky for the dragons to attack, she took them out with her own animalistic bloodthirst. She wrought enough confusion that the men lowered their eyes from the sky and gave the dragons opportunity to attack as well.
Becca ascended the stairs of the house as the great serpents swarmed about her, ripping bodies apart and tossing them aside. She ran out of ammo for the shotgun as she reached the front door. Tossing the shotgun aside, she pulled out the handguns as a dragon tackled one of the armed men into the front door, shattering the wood and gaining Becca entrance.