What is that supposed to mean?
He didn’t try to stop or follow his brother. There was no point. Darius wouldn’t talk unless he wanted to talk. And short of killing his twin, which he’d never be able to do, he couldn’t stop him. The best he could do was to protect Lucessa.
Maxim continued through the house in search of Alexander; he deserved a punch in the face as well. Anything could’ve happened to Lucessa with four Melas in the house.
Unable to find Alexander, Maxim left his brother’s hellhole, a sense of loss revisiting his soul.
Chapter 15
“What information do you have for me?” Darius asked.
“Master, my sources say he is not deceased,” Alexander said, his head held high, his eyes alight with confidence. “His Oneiroi viewed the picture and confirmed he still lives.”
“Interesting. Is he sure?”
“He has never led us astray before. We would not have known the location of the girl if it had not been for my source.”
Very true, but it’d taken years to locate her. The Dark One was close to relieving me of my head!
“Your continued loyalty hasn’t gone unnoticed.” He wasn’t use to praising his men.
His second in command’s shoulders straighten with pride.
“Leave me now.”
Alexander departed, closing the door behind him.
So, the man isn’t dead.Does my brother know yet? If not, he had a head start finding him. They’d leave for Uganda immediately. These were the times he wished his powers extended beyond the ability to transport to the Dark One. They’d be forced to travel as humans do, slowly, by air. This was what he missed the most: thinking of a place, closing his eyes, and appearing there. The day would come when he’d have more power than Guy and Maxim could dream of.
But first, he needed supplies.
# # #
Lucessa walked the short distance to the café around the corner from her office. The place sold the best sandwiches in town--her boss was particularly fond of their egg salad sandwiches. The tedium of her work day freed her mind and gave her a feeling of normalcy in her recently hectic life. So much had changed in the last two days. She was now central to a war between the Oneiroi of Erebos and the Melas Oneiroi on Earth. Nuts! What did I do to deserve this?
She’d also learned she could be physically, and possibly emotionally, attracted to another man. Something she hadn’t anticipated. Her mind swirled with the possibilities.
As she stood in line, she thought about her dream. While her wantonness embarrassed her, she was glad it’d happened in her dream and not in her guest room with Maxim. Her pulse quickened and her breathing became shallow and fast. Pull it together, Lu! You’re in a damn café, for gosh sakes.
Her mental pep talk wasn’t working.
The line moved quicker than usual and before she knew it, it was her turn to order. “What’ll you have today, Lucessa? The usual?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay, one egg salad sandwich, one turkey sandwich--no lettuce, tomatoes or onions, and a bowl of chili. Any drinks?” Lauren asked from behind the counter. Lucessa shook her head and the girl continued, “Your total’s $15.72.”
Lucessa handed over a twenty dollar bill, told the woman to keep the change and waited for the sandwiches at a nearby table. She wanted to call home to see if Maxim was there. But he hesitated when she’d asked what his plans were.
Clearly he wanted his privacy.
She wanted the comfort of knowing he’d be there waiting when she returned home.
Her dependency was irrational and ungrounded, but he’d been the one constant in her life since her father’s death. After realizing Maxim wasn’t a figment of her imagination, she didn’t want him to disappear. Appearing in her dreams wasn’t enough for her anymore. She’d gotten a taste of Maxim in the flesh, and she had no intention of letting him walk away.
The shock and then the depression after Greg’s death was something she didn’t think she could live through again. This connection to Maxim would only lead to disappointment. What other outcomes were there? His place was in Erebos not here on Earth--with her.
“Order up!” Lauren called. She clasped a brown paper bag in her hand.
Collecting her food, she started back toward the office, drawing the lapels of her coat up to fight against the chill. Her heels clipped quickly across the cement. She rounded the corner and ran into a man, which sent the bag flying from her hands. The sandwiches slid across the sidewalk and under the moving feet of people walking by. She watched as they were trampled. Great! How am I going to explain this one to Eugene?
“Sorry,” the man mumbled, grabbing her arm to steady himself.
“Dang it.” She turned to face the offender, with every intention of giving him an ear full. “What the hell...” Her voice stuck in her throat. The man staring back at her looked oddly familiar.
“Again, my apologizes,” he repeated. His eyes bore into hers. Abruptly he released her arm wheeled around and rushed down the street.
Those eyes! She stared after the man until he rounded the corner. He was skinnier, possibly much older but the resemblance was still startling.
“Excuse me!” a female voice said behind her, the woman’s irritation clear.
It was hard to make herself move, to take her eyes off his retreating back. “Sorry,” Lucessa said and moved against the nearest building.
Lucessa pulled her cell from her purse to phone her boss.
The receptionist picked up on the first ring, “EGE Advertising. How may I direct your call?”
“Hi, Abbey. Its Lucessa. Patch me through to Eugene, please.” Her eyes traveled back to the corner, a part of her thought the man would reappear.
After two rings Lucessa’s boss answered the phone, “Where are you? My next meeting is in five minutes. That leaves me three minutes to eat my lunch.”
“I know, I know and I’m sorry. A guy crashed into me outside the office and I have to go back and get new sandwiches. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m sorry.” The pleading in her voice mortified her. Every day she had to convince Eugene that she could handle all the responsibilities of her job.
“Forget it, Ms. Sarcona. Return to the office and get my PowerPoint presentation ready.”
Dickhead! A mundane life was overrated.
With the PowerPoint doubled checked and delivered to Eugene, Lucessa settled into her cubicle. Shaking the mouse, her computer came to life and she clicked the Internet Explorer logo on the screen. She’d been dying to do a little research. Since Eugene was busy for the next hour, it was now or never.
Use of company computers for personal use was a major no-no, but she didn’t have a choice.
In the search box she typed ‘Oneiroi Greek mythology’. The first link sent her to a page with a starry background. “Very Greek mythology-ish,” she mumbled to herself.
“What was that, Sarcona?” a voice answered.
Minimizing the search screen, Lucessa stood to address her co-worker in the next cubicle. “Nothing, Sarah. Just this song that’s playing. It reminds me of that movie...what’s it called?”
Sarah cocked her head to listen to the office music. She stepped into Lucessa’s area. “I don’t recognize the song. Give me a hint on the movie.”
Lucessa didn’t need this. She was already on Eugene’s shit list, the last thing she needed was Sarah, the office gossip, turning her in for using company time and her work computer for personal web searches.
“You know the one I’m talking about. It has the girl with the big nose.”
“Big nose? Greek? I got it! My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” Sarah said, seemingly proud of herself.
“That’s the one. This song is from that movie, right?”
“You got me.”
“Oh well, I better get back to work. The Sport’s Authority ad mock up is due tomorrow.” Lucessa turned back to her computer, hoping Sarah would get the hint and move on. Before she could move her
mouse to bring her screen to life again, Lucessa heard Sarah greet another girl down the line of cubicles.
With a sigh of relief, she turned back to the screen again. Her breathe hitched, lodging in her throat. A man, if that’s what the figure was called, stared back at her. His eyes glowed against the dark background of the monitor. Underneath the picture read, ‘Oneiroi, the personification of dreams, known to dwell on the dark shores of the western Oceanus or Erebos, outside the gates of Hades.’
Those eyes! They belonged to Maxim. The image reminded her of a night, long ago. The night that forever changed her life.
The oncoming headlights filtered through the foggy windshield. Squealing tires echoed inside the car. The Cadillac Deville spun on the wet pavement. Lucessa clutched her tattered copy of Little House in the Big Woods. Her small body spun with the force. Her lap belt cut into her stomach. Pain radiated up and down her limbs.
The car collided with something and the spinning stopped. Her body wrenched forward from the force of the impact, and then slammed back against her seat. Confusion riveted her; every breath barely escaped her chest. She maneuvered out of the seat belt, increasing the pain in her mid-section, and risked a look into the front seat.
Water dripped on Lucessa’s hands that wrapped around her treasured book. She wasn’t sure if the moist warmth came in through the smashed window or if tears escaped her eyes. The sight of her parents, bloody and unconscious, pulled a sob from deep within her throat. Blood streamed down her father’s forehead, over his closed left eye, and into his parted lips. A moan escaped her mother as her hand twitched where it rested on the seat.
“Mom...Papa!” Lucessa screamed. She barely heard herself over the pounding rain.
The flash of red lights drew her attention from the scene around her to an approaching fire truck, its progress blurred by the rain streaming through the broken windshield. Help sped toward her, seemingly taking forever to reach them.
As she focused on the fire truck’s slow progress, strong arms reached into the car and lifted her through the shattered driver’s window. A sense of floating came over her as she drifted over her father into the cold, penetrating rain. As mysteriously as the hands picked her up, they released her to lie on the ground several yards from her parents’ damaged car. She searched the face of the man above her. His eyes glowed in the darkness.
Her attention was drawn back to the car, smashed against a towering tree. A silver truck was embedded in the car’s hood. The smell of burnt rubber invaded her nose.
Another man rushed her mother’s still form to the opposite side of the accident. He deposited her still form on the wet ground as the car burst into flames. The explosion caused Lucessa to avert her eyes from the bright flash. She lost sight of her mother.
Pain, searing and hot, shot down her neck. She focused on the person who had removed her from the back seat. A man dressed in dark jeans, a hooded sweat shirt and baseball cap hurried in the opposite direction of the approaching fire truck, untouched by the rain.
Glowing eyes stared at her from the computer screen--Maxim’s eyes! Eyes that also matched the man she’d collided with on the street. She and Maxim definitely had things to discuss when she got home.
Chapter 16
Darius’ skin was sticky due to the high humidity of the area. The journey to the remote village was treacherous, full of barren deserted land. After the eighteen hour flight from Sacramento to Uganda with two layovers, the last thing he expected was another four hours packed in a primitive bus from Entebbe to Gayaza. After this horrendous trip, this Flynn guy better be there. With fucking bells on! If not, when Darius did find him, he’d make him suffer.
For being such a godforsaken country, the village of Gayaza housed an all-girls school, agricultural research facility, and a newly opened medical clinic, or so the brochure from the airport informed him. His men were particularly enthusiastic about the all-girls school and the distractions they’d find in the arms of willing, or unwilling, African princesses.
He doubted there would be much of the free time his men anticipated, but there was no need to tell them. Their returning flight to the States left in less than twenty hours.
And come brimstone--or fire--he’d be on that plane, with or without his men. It didn’t matter to him, as long as he fulfilled his mission.
At the first sign of daylight cresting over the horizon, the bus creaked down a dirt road into a rural town. He was ready to disembark the flea and dust infested bus jam-packed with his men, several locals, six chickens and a goat. How these people lived was beyond him. The smell alone would kill the un-killable within a few more hours. The bus pulled up outside an open air food market on the edge of Gayaza.
Darius and his men exited the bus to the relief of the increasingly nervous driver. As they walked down the main street of the village, his men flanked him, two on each side; he was glad for the early hour. The sheer size of his men, not to mention the whiteness of their skin, labeled them as outsiders. Then, the chance of any villager giving them information about the man he sought, would be slim. With luck, I won’t need help locating my target.
“Let’s get to the medical facility,” Darius said. His men, dressed in new dark fatigues with matching steel-toed boots looked official.
Alexander held the crude town map a man on the bus had scribbled for them on the back of an airlines upchuck bag. “This way, Master. The facility is at the end of this road, on the left.”
As they approached, Darius saw that the facility was already open. The line outside confirmed the building was likely the only one within thirty miles. Women and children lined up around the makeshift, mud-packed building; some were sitting and others were standing, but all appeared half-starved. The swollen abdomens of the infants and children were predominant. Pathetic humans.
To the left of the main building, a smaller hut stood with a sign labeled ‘Office.’ If any information was to be found here, this would be the place.
Darius signaled his men to wait outside and he pushed through the red-stained metal door. The white female who greeted him was unexpected. He expected the facility would be staffed by African women and that the language barrier would be hard to overcome.
The woman stirred something deep in his trousers and a long suppressed memory raged to life within him. He pushed the memories back where they belonged. The resemblance was striking but not completely accurate. He’d been celibate too long and his mind was playing tricks on him.
Her hair was the color of golden thread, her body slim, and her eyes the shade of a meadow in spring. But she was too young, impossibly too young. He forced a smile to his lips in greeting.
“Can I help you, sir?” The melody of her voice brought his eyes from her unnaturally plump lips and to her curious eyes. Their color was close to the one he thought of, but the shape was all wrong. This girl’s eyes were almond shaped, while hers had been round. And so innocent.
“I believe you can, Miss. I’m looking for a man by the name of Greg Flynn. Do you know where I can find him?”
Her stance turned from open and welcoming to guarded and hooded, with the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry. He passed away over a year ago.” She crossed her arms in front of her, flattening her breasts under her shirt.
“Is there a director I can speak with about Mr. Flynn? It’s very important. I’m traveling back to Entebbe tonight to catch a flight to the States,” Darius said, waiting for any look of understanding to cross her face. Her speech pattern was Californian, and he was sure she knew more than she was saying.
“That’s me, Dr. Sandy Adams.” She recovered and smiled.
Not Lauren.
“I’m Agent Lucas of the CIA.” At her acknowledging nod, Darius continued. “It’s come to the attention of the US government that Mr. Flynn didn’t pass away, as you say, but is very much alive. Any information you can pass on will only help with my task.” The mention of the US government should shake the truth out of her. The thought of disconti
nued financial aid from the United States, for her clinic, would certainly mean doom.
Darius had pegged her right. A smile spread across her face. “Of course Agent Lucas, I’ll give you what information I have.”
Smart girl!
She scurried over to a cabinet against the back wall, and returned with a file that appeared empty. “Dr. Flynn was only here a few weeks before he fell ill and was transported to a larger hospital by the international airport in Entebbe as the file will confirm.” She flipped through the few papers in the file. “While he was here he attended his duties with efficiency and adequate bedside manner. I’m sorry you wasted your time coming all the way here.”
“Thank you, Dr. Adams.” His eyes traveled the length of her hospital scrubs, longing for more of a likeness. Get your head back in the game. The one I seek is safe, back in Modesto.
She pushed the file in Darius’s direction and turned toward a door marked Eddwaaliro. With file in hand, he followed her to the door and slipped through behind her, before it shut. She must’ve sensed his presence because she whipped around, her golden hair brushed across his face. He hadn’t realized he followed so close. The smell of vanilla filled the space between them.
“Can I help you with something else?” Her voice dripped with a new hostility.
“You don’t mind if I have a look around, do you? Maybe speak to some of the staff who worked alongside Dr. Flynn. They may be able to give me a little insight into his intentions.”
“Intentions, Agent? Dr. Flynn died from malaria. I don’t think anyone can tell you more than I already have.”
“All the same, I’d be remiss not to further investigate the matter.” Darius walked further into the busy clinic. Half-dressed women and children lay on examination tables or sat in chairs around the large room.
Staff members hurried around the room, taking temperatures, handing out food supplement packages and preparing examination tables for new patients. Several white men, who met the age requirement and description of the girl’s husband, roamed the room talked to patients, listened to heartbeats, and studied the inside of ears and throats.
Only in Her Dreams Page 8