“How’s the book coming, Mr. Jacobs?” Lucessa asked a man hunched over a laptop, his fingers flying across the keys.
“It’s a screenplay, young lady. As you well know!” Mr. Jacobs huffed. His fingers barely paused to give Lucessa her daily reprimand. It was their private joke. She pretended not to take an interest in the old man, and he enjoyed calling her ‘young lady.’
“You don’t say, Mr. Jacobs?” She raised an eyebrow with her usual response.
She’d been told on her first day at the Queen Bean to expect Jebediah Jacobs every day from one o’clock in the afternoon until five-thirty in the evening. And, like clockwork, he never missed a day. Rumor around the coffee shop was that Jacobs had a breakout screenplay turned into a movie and had been directed by none other than Roman Polanski back in the early 1970s. Since then he worked tirelessly on another screenplay--the next great revolutionary film.
It should be extraordinary after he’d slaved away on it for over four decades. She continued outside through the open back door and onto the patio. People were already arriving, choosing tables with a good view of the make-shift stage but far enough from the speakers to protect their eardrums.
Julie’s voice floated across the tables from the open order window. “Hey, can you come help take orders inside? This is a large crowd for a Monday night.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
As Lucessa re-entered the coffee shop, she noticed Mr. Jacobs had departed for the evening; she glanced at the rooster-shaped clock on the wall, yep...five-thirty.
Another man sat in his place. It only took Lucessa a second to place the clothing and those clear blue eyes. She gasped, her stomach clenched. It was him.
In her town.
Sitting in her coffee shop.
And he was staring straight at her.
Chapter 2
Maxim watched her enter the room through the back door. She looked so different from when he observed her in her dreams. They were not his to control, only to observe from a distance. Most of them took place before her father died; therefore, she appeared as a child of about seven. Gone were the long, stringy brown pigtails, and in their place was a mane of rich mahogany hair that swung just past the middle of her back. Her oversized childs’ pants and flowered t-shirt were replaced with a pair of skin-tight jeans and a blue polo that read ‘The Queen Bean.’
His first trip to Earth in twenty-two years, and all he could do was stare at the girl he’d watched over for more than two decades. Maybe his brother was right; the Oneiroi weren’t meant to interact with humans. It wasn’t safe--for humans or for his kind. This must be why his father, Morpheus, forbade the Oneiroi to pass between the two worlds centuries ago. The temptation was just too great.
She looked up at the clock and then her eyes met his. In them he saw recognition, confusion, fear, and then panic. His thoughts of remaining as an invisible, silent observer were gone. Her eyes seemed to be drawn to him. It was time to go; he’d done enough damage. Guy expected him to stay hidden and unknown to the girl. He stood and walked out the front door of the coffee shop, resolving to find a better way to keep an eye on her.
# # #
The elegant woman behind the desk at Windows of Hope Counseling Center sat the phone on its cradle and turned toward Lucessa. “Miss Sarcona, Doctor Applegate will see you now.” The smile on her face did nothing to soothe Lucessa’s unease at having to return to this office after all this time.
Lucessa popped off the couch, wiped her palms down her black slacks and slowly made her way through the reception area to the doctor’s office. What am I going to say? Since the day before, the question had pressed on her. The thought of telling Dr. Applegate that the man from her dreams had now moved into her reality made Lucessa sweat. She’s going to think I’m crazy. Hell, Lucessa was beginning to think so herself.
After all the hours of counseling she’d been through since Greg’s death and all the time spent working on herself--cultivating a new life without him, she feared Dr. Applegate would be disappointed in her. As she walked through the doorway into the doctor’s inner sanctum, the familiar couch comforted her. How many hours have I spend crying on that couch, proclaiming the injustices of the world?
When she sat on the leather seat, her left ring finger immediately found the crack in the worn material and she began rhythmically dragging her nail along its length.
“Hello, Dr. Applegate. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“I keep time open each day for just this sort of thing.” The doctor sat across from Lucessa. With her notebook and pen in hand, Dr. Applegate was always ready to start right into each session with her clients--even a session that wasn’t officially a session.
Lucessa relaxed. “Well, thanks.”
Dr. Applegate looked puzzled. “I’m surprised to see you today. I thought we were both comfortable with you moving on from therapy. It’s been six weeks, correct?”
It was true. They had agreed almost six weeks prior that, as a grief counselor, Dr. Applegate had done all she could for Lucessa. She’d given her the tools to handle her grief and move forward in her life. The doctor was the only person she’d spoken to about Greg’s death, her mother’s sickness, and the car crash that took the life of her father. Well, besides Julie.
Lucessa decided to break the silence and possibly provoke her psychologist to refer her to the psych ward at the local hospital. “I started seeing the man again.” The words tumbled from her mouth in a rush. Again, her finger sought the comfort of the defect in the couch.
“We talked about this, Lucessa.” Dr. Applegate spoke slowly, pronouncing every word as if she were explaining the need for brushing one’s teeth to a toddler. “You knew the likelihood that you would dream about him again was fairly high. When a person like yourself conjures such an image,” she paused, “these figments of your imagination...that is a better term, are often there to take on a protective role in one’s life and act as a safeguard when one feels alone or vulnerable.”
Dr. Applegate set her pen down on her pad of paper, apparently uninterested in recording anything further from Lucessa’s unofficial session.
“No, I mean I actually saw him. At the coffee shop. He was wearing the same clothes from my dreams, and had the same intense stare.”
With a lift of one meticulously groomed eyebrow, Dr. Applegate asked, “How did you react?”
She asked the question as if she hadn’t heard a word Lucessa had said. As if she didn’t think Lucessa was crazy.
“I was shocked, of course. I just stared. I felt paralyzed,” she sighed. Her shoulders slumped; a large weight settling on her. In the past, her appointments with Dr. Applegate had helped her put her life in perspective, ridding her of doubt, confusion, and loneliness. This session was different.
“Then what happened? Did he speak to you?”
“No, he got up and left, just like that. Not a word.” Standing, Lucessa began pacing the small room. “He’s haunted me since my father’s death, and when I come face-to-face with him, he walks out.”
Dr. Applegate’s brow scrunched. “Why didn’t you approach him?”
“I-I-I couldn’t.” Lucessa took her seat, defeated. The idea was ludicrous. She didn’t relish the idea of making a fool of herself. What if she’d been imagining him? The seat could’ve been empty. She would’ve been talking to thin air. It was safer--easier--to sit and talk this through with a professional.
“Then we’re right where we started,” she said, as she made to rise from her chair, officially ending the non-session.
With a slight twisting in her belly, Lucessa realized the woman was right. She had the opportunity to find out who the man was and what he wanted with her. But she’d frozen, unable to ask a single question--resolving nothing. He was gone, but she had a sinking feeling he’d be back.
# # #
“What do you mean she recognized you?” Guy’s voice echoed through the room.
“I mean she stared right at m
e, Guy!” Spittle flew from Maxim’s mouth, landing among the papers scattered across the large desk. He didn’t usually address his brother in such an informal way. “I thought you said humans do not remember when we visit in their dreams.”
“They don’t.”
“She clearly recognized me.”
“That is impossible.” Guy rose from his seat behind his desk and walked to stand in front of the fire. His eyes gazed blindly into the flames.
Maxim returned to Erebos quickly after his encounter with the girl. He needed answers from his eldest brother, time was of the essence. “How shall I proceed?” he finally asked.
Chapter 3
Darius watched the girl enter her home. It seemed to fit her, tan with dark green shutters and a well-manicured lawn. An aged, quaint bungalow in a well-maintained neighborhood. Two neighbors had waved to him as he drove down the street, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t out for a Sunday cruise. What would the neighbors do if they knew his true intentions for invading their peaceful slice of suburbia?
His source had finally proved useful. I may have to spare his life when the time comes.
The sight of it--the house, the neighborhood, the families--all made him sick. This could’ve been me, should be me. Instead, he was stuck on this godforsaken Earth, most of his powers stripped, forbidden to return to his rightful place in Erebos. And his only option was the girl. This weak female held his fate in her hands.
And she hadn’t a clue.
He moved across the street and slipped into her backyard with only a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one watched. Her yard surprised and repulsed him just as much as the front of the house. The front was straight from a promotional brochure, while the back yard gave the appearance of a Better Homes and Gardening showpiece. There were flowers, shrubs, and trees covering every square inch. The serenity of it reminded him of all he despised.
This was almost me! Good thing I dodged that bullet. Peace, tranquility and harmony are way overrated. One word: boring. Thankfully, she had rejected him. After that embarrassing episode he’d shelved his heart--there was no room for feelings left.
It was time to shake things up and restore order. His order.
“Master, she has retired to her bed chamber,” Alexander said.
Darius turned to see his man standing beside him. Alexander’s ability to move without alerting others to his presence was what drew Darius to him. After he was banished from Erebos, he convinced Alexander to join him in his crusade to right the wrongs of his father and support his new Lord’s cause.
“Enter and report back to me. Find the connection to my brother,” he said.
With a nod, Alexander vanished as silently as he’d appeared.
# # #
Maxim studied his brother from the shadows deep within the girl’s backyard jungle. His twin had aged since he’d seen him last, but their likeness was unmistakable. Darius’ clear blue eyes glowed in the darkness, a side effect of Earth’s oxygen on their demi-god eyes. Maxim pulled his baseball cap lower to hide his own glowing orbs.
Why did I assume he was bluffing with his missive?
Maxim wasn’t sure what drew him to the girl’s house after the disaster earlier at the coffee shop, but he had to know more about her. The call to protect her was overpowering. But was it because of his promise to Guy or because of his own inner feelings?
That he could be attracted to a human was unthinkable. His knowledge of the girl was limited, besides her being Guy’s adopted daughter--his brother’s daughter. Granted there was no blood relation, the girl was unaware of her true heritage. Guy and his wife had continued the charade and misled the girl her entire life.
At that moment, Alexander returned from the house, a small item in his hand. He returned to Darius’s side and they appeared to argue quietly. The pair then slipped out of the yard through the same gate they’d entered.
Alexander hadn’t been inside the house long enough to harm her. Plus, Maxim would bet all he owned, which wasn’t much, that Darius knew the severe consequences he’d face if he harmed the home’s occupant.
With his brother and Alexander gone, Maxim moved toward the house. He navigated through the foliage, careful not to damage the delicate plants, his pants became damp with the dew that adorned the leaves and blossoms.
Chapter 4
She ran in terror. The trees lashed at her face, her arms and her legs as if seeking blood. They ripped at her clothes. They tore her skin. Her bare feet pounded the uneven ground. She fought to get away. The bottom of her feet ached from the jagged rocks and logs she scrambled over. Fear coursed through her veins and leached the warmth from her body. Darkness had fallen long ago and still the man followed her, stalked her.
She hurried through the forest toward an unknown destination. The dark forest didn’t conceal her and it appeared to urge him on. She darted a look behind her. Darkness. Only darkness.
Her foot snagged on the root of an overturned tree. And she crashed face down in the muddied leaves. Move! Don’t give up! Get up!
She rolled and grasped a vine to pull herself upright, but a body stood over her--blocking any means of escape. He had caught her.
Lucessa writhed out of a deep troubled sleep, her body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat; the memory of the nightmare was fresh in her mind. The dream was the same, but the predator was different somehow. He looked like the quiet watcher, but he no longer appeared harmless. Threat radiated from his being, this was a predator and she was his prey. So she’d run.
A door closed below. She sat up in bed, waking Goosey, who slept next to her. The dog hadn’t made a noise. Damn dog!
Slipping from bed, she made her way to her bedroom window and drew the shades aside. Two men stood in the shadows next to gate that led out of her backyard. One man held an object in his hand, reflecting the glow from the moon. The object looked vaguely familiar and with a start she realized it was the framed photo of her and her father. The picture was one of the last taken before the car accident. As she watched, the men hurried out the gate taking the treasured picture with them.
A movement deep in her yard attracted her attention. Another man appeared from the shadows, headed toward her back door. Lucessa drew back from the window, panic seizing her insides. Her stare darted around her room. Where’s my phone? She’d left it charging downstairs. What the hell was I thinking? Idiot!
She peeked out the window again, but the man was gone. The sweat from her dream had not yet dried on her scalp when a new one broke out.
Goosey hadn’t made a sound behind her. Lucessa turned; her faithful watch dog was fast asleep, snuggled deep within the covers on the bed. “Damn dog.”
She heard the scuff of the man’s boots as he moved through the kitchen and into her living room. With deep-seated dread, Lucessa started toward the bedroom door, careful not to make a sound.
# # #
Maxim inched through the quiet house. He lightly ran his fingers over obscure items adorning every nook and cranny. While he didn’t know much about the things humans collected, most of the knickknacks appeared from an earlier time. He continued his progress through her living room and started up the stairs. The first step creaked. The staircase was lined with pictures, many featured the girl at a young age, from when her father resided on Earth. The weak street light guiding his steps revealed images of a happy childhood filled with love and laughter.
A pang of jealousy pounded through his heart. He wished he possessed happy memories. He pushed this from his mind and continued up the stairs that wound to the second floor. As he rounded the last curve and stepped onto the final landing, a creak sounded to his left.
A shadowed shape hovered there for a moment and then moved with lightning speed. His head exploded in fireworks of pain. Losing his balance, he fell backwards down the stairs. The shape retreat into one of the rooms, slamming the door shut. He continued his fall down the stairs repeatedly hitting his head and elbows as he rolled, unable to stop his downw
ard trajectory.
# # #
Lucessa’s breath came out in a rush, as she closed the door and flipped the lock. Greg’s baseball bat clutched firmly in her hands, she listened. Over the pounding in her chest, a thumping echoed through the house. Either the man fled down the stairs, or she’d knocked him senseless, and he’d tumbled back down the way he’d come. The thought of him falling down the stairs brought a smile to her face. The man deserved what he got; he’d put her through so many sleepless nights. For years she doubted herself--her memories. Had she seen the man somewhere? Should she know him? Why had he broken into her house?
Lucessa’s heart slowed, along with her breathing.
A moist warmth touched her leg and she turned, ready to swing the bat at another unknown enemy. Only Goosey stood there. Lucessa leaned the bat against the wall and patted the dog’s head. A new confidence filled her. “Where’ve you been, girl?”
With the dog at her side, she cautiously unlocked and opened her bedroom door ready to slam it again. She reached out and flicked the hall light on. The man had fallen down the stairs, taking every picture off the wall with him.
She advanced down the stairs, Goosey at her side, wishing she’d grabbed the bat on the way out of her room. The man lay at the bottom, his arm and neck bent at awkward angles. This was the last thing she needed right now, him lying dead in her house. She had to be to work in four hours. There’s no way I can handle this in four hours!
She wanted to flee back to her room, barricade the door, and hide under her bed. But that wouldn’t solve her problem. Goosey sat next to her in the hallway, her tongue hung out of her mouth. The boxer didn’t seem to recognize the trouble they were in. “Our home’s about to become a crime scene, Goosey.”
Only in Her Dreams Page 2