Only in Her Dreams

by Christina McKnight

  “Yes, a guest. That’d be why you slept on the couch last night,” Maxim said. He wasn’t sure why he was getting so mad and antagonizing Greg. He just couldn’t stand the sight of him. He’d disappeared and now returned only to do the bidding of his brother, Darius. “Anyway, don’t hurt the dog or you’ll be answering to me. You’d better get that mess cleaned up before Lucessa comes down and sees it.”

  The words had no more left his mouth when he heard her light footsteps coming down the stairs. Both men turned in her direction. She entered the kitchen, dressed in a stunning black dress, her hair pinned up, and her eyes sparkling. The sparkle left as soon as she saw the mess on the floor.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Ask him,” Maxim said, pointing his thumb in Greg’s direction.

  “I wanted to make you breakfast.”

  “I can see that, but did you have to use every pan in the kitchen? And why is that on the floor?” she asked, her eyes wide in shock.

  Maxim mumbled one word, “Goosey.”

  The shock melted from her face and was replaced with a huge smile, her bright white teeth showing between light pink lips.

  “Where is she? She must’ve scared herself. She didn’t even hang around to eat the food?” A giggle escaped her lips and Maxim found himself staring. Her eyes moved to him and a knowing wink was shot in his direction.

  “I put her outside before Greg here could kick her.”

  “Kick her? Greg wouldn’t do that,” she said, turning in her husband’s direction. “Would you?”

  “Of course not. I was just upset that my hard work went to waste and you’d leave for work hungry.”

  “Well, I’m off to work...hungry. You boys clean up this mess.” Lucessa gave Greg an intense stare and walked toward the front door leaving both men staring after her.

  “You heard the woman, clean this mess up,” Maxim said and headed up stairs.

  # # #

  Goddamn waste of my time! Greg stood over the mess on the floor and watched Maxim disappear up the stairs.

  The resemblance between Maxim and Darius was unnerving. They shared the same cold, steel-blue eyes and the shaggy brown hair as well as a devil-may-care facial expression that he’d like to wipe off their faces.

  If Darius already had someone in the house, why was he needed? Lucessa seemed to think highly of Maxim and acted very comfortable around him. The man even had a key.

  He had the urge to follow him and inflict a bit of retribution for the beating he’d taken at the hands of Darius.

  Grabbing a towel off the counter he surveyed the disaster on the floor. Food mixed with glass, mixed with bacon grease. What a mess.

  He’d ask Alexander about Maxim when he came to check on his progress. Until then, he’d keep his eye on him. For now, he’d have to settle with cleaning up his mess. That would make Lucessa happy and he’d stay on her good side.

  Forget staying on her good side. Throwing the towel back on the counter he headed for the stairs. He had nothing to lose.

  He propelled himself up the stairs two at a time and onto the landing outside the guest room. He halted in front of the door, his momentum fleeing. Should he knock or just barge in?

  Grasping the knob, he knew taking the man by surprise would be his best option. Especially if he had a right hook like Darius.

  “Who are you to tell me--” Greg started, but the room before him was empty.

  Chapter 21

  Darius strolled into the castle, a new spring in his step and he suspected a sparkle in his eyes. The cause could be the anticipation of completing his goal and getting the overbearing Dark One off his back or his growing feelings--Feelings? What the fuck!--for Sandy.

  Their meal had gone better than he’d expected. She’d been polite yet feisty, exactly what he looked for in a potential fuck buddy. The experience had been refreshing after the wounds of the past.

  He stopped at the closed door of a room he’d never entered. He better get used to the layout of this domain. It would one day be his.

  He raised his hand to announce his presence. His knock echoed through the endless corridors of the massive estate.

  “Come in,” the raspy voice called from within.

  The door swung open on well-oiled hinges, revealing a colossal bathing suite. Funny, he didn’t picture the ‘Prince of Darkness’ as a regular bather.

  “My Lord.” Darius bowed. Fucking degrading! This pretense will end soon.

  Darius lifted his eyes and searched the room. The Dark One reclined in a claw-foot tub. It must be over nine feet long to accommodate his large frame. Water lapped at the edge, threatening to overflow onto the black tinted tiles. The rest of the room held showers, a huge communal soaking bath and lounging beds. The room puzzled Darius, so pristine in a land so covered in filth and pollution.

  “I see you’ve infiltrated her home. Good job.”

  “Thank you. I anticipate the fulfillment of our agreement very soon,” Darius said. Then your ass is out of my life.

  “It doesn’t pay to be overly confident. By the way, how’d you convince him to do my bidding?” he asked.

  The fucker is reading my thoughts now!

  “A little violent persuasion, mixed with some hostage taking.”

  “Darius, you will fit right in here. I love a man who isn’t afraid to use the means necessary to achieve what he wants.”

  Fit in? A part of him wanted to rebel and disprove this statement. He wanted to proclaim his goodness. But he hadn’t been ‘good’ for many years. He’d lost any redeeming quality he possessed the night he caused his father’s death. And over a silly, stupid woman, nonetheless.

  “I look forward to following in your stead, my Lord,” he replied. Not because he wanted to be like the Dark Lord, but his response was expected.

  “Now, tell me about that adorable little lady friend you’ve cozied up with.” He stood from the bath, unashamed of his nakedness. Grimy light filtered in through the clouded window and reflected off the hard angles of his massive body. His equipment hung limp but long.

  “She is my bargaining piece, no more.”

  “Is she truly just that?” he commented, wrapping a towel around his body. He turned back toward Darius, his manhood finally covered. “Then you wouldn’t mind me getting to know her a bit better when she’s out worn her usefulness to your cause?”

  Fuck!

  “Whatever you desire is yours.” He had no choice. The Dark One took what he wanted, rarely asking permission.

  “Good answer. I’d hate a woman to come between us. It would be quite ironic though, wouldn’t it? Darius, son of the great Morpheus, losing yet another kingdom...over a woman.” His laugh echoed off the walls.

  Ironic as hell.

  Chapter 22

  Hera stood, gardening sheers in hand, as she surveyed the vast sea of roses in front of her. It was her wish to share the lovely blossoms with all the worlds, Olympus and Earth, alike. Alas, that was not to be. She delicately cupped a single pale pink blossom, sheers poised to relieve the stem of the flowers weight when a commotion erupted behind her.

  Several servants hurried down the garden path toward her. The group came to a halt mere feet from where she stood.

  “What ever is the commotion about?” she asked.

  “Our Lady of Hearth and Home,” the three women chimed together as they bowed their heads.

  “Please, get on with what you have to say.”

  One woman, short but sturdy, stepped from the group. “Our Lady of Hearth and Home,” she addressed Hera again.

  “Adelle,” Hera said, giving the woman a stern look. “What have I told you? When we are not in his presence there is no need to stand on such formalities.”

  “Yes--Hera.”

  “Now, what is all the fuss?” Hera prodded.

  “It is he. Zeus, our God of Sky, has beheld something that disturbs him in the scrying bowls. He wishes your immediate presence.”

  “At once.” Hera handed her
shears to Adelle and followed the ladies’ return path. There were so many things that angered Zeus, it was hard to keep track of his many grievances. As she drew near, Hera heard her lover’s voice raised in outrage.

  “This is unacceptable--” Zeus turned to her as she entered the palace through an opening draped in sheer yards of silk. “You have finally arrived.”

  “I was tending my roses. What has caused you grief, I shall seek to soothe you.” Hera directed a sensual smile at him. As most men were, his temper was easily extinguished by the promise of her naked body. She sashayed across the rug-covered floor and stopped at this side. Her eyelids were lowered as she peeked up at his massive form.

  “I will tell you what has caused me grief! That no good brother of mine. He seeks, as always, to irk me at every turn.”

  “How has he offended you now?”

  “He has succeeded in completely, and utterly corrupting Darius!”

  “Remind me who Darius is again...” It was a continuous chore keeping the many demigods straight. They were always conquering, plundering, and bargaining away kingdoms. Their offspring would rise up and take control, killing their sire or relegating them to menial tasks.

  “He is the middle son of Morpheus,” Zeus huffed. “Well, he’s the ‘assumed’ middle son.”

  Yes, the bastard twin boys Morpheus claimed as his own. He was an honorable man, never mind that the twins filled a void the ruler of Erebos desperately needed filled. “Was he not a lost cause many years ago when he turned against his brothers?”

  “The boy was confused, that’s all...but now, I fear he has embraced Hades cause and will endeavor ever harder to displace the current ruler of Erebos.”

  “Is this not how such things go?”

  “You don’t understand!” Zeus thundered. The ground beneath them shock with his outrage. “There will be great repercussions if my brother gets his hands on Erebos. A shift of power like none we’ve experienced will take place.”

  “A shift in power greater than your revolt against your own father, Cronos and the Titan? That I much doubt, my lover.” She trailed her fingers up his arm to soothe his anger, but Zeus’ face paled only briefly and then became enflamed again. His dark mood cast a shadow about the room.

  “You doubt my sincerity and concern, Hera. This conflict has the potential to be of Typhonian scale.”

  “Does not Maxim, youngest brother of Guy, still hold faith that his twin will align with the honorable side?”

  “He has always believed in his sibling, but I fear Hades has played his trump card.” Zeus sunk to the cushioned lounger behind him and returned his gaze to the scrying bowls.

  Chapter 23

  Sandy shifted on the hard surface of the tub, trying to get comfortable and keep the small robe tucked around her body to ward off the chill. The boards over the window prevented her from telling the time of day, but from the ice in the air it had to be early morning. Sleeping in the hard, cold bathtub had been hell, every bone and muscle in her body ached. Not to mention the tub was filthy.

  Giving up, she stood, the robe clutched around her shoulders, she leaped from the tub, her feet barely landing on the small rug in front of the toilet. The floor was just as dirty as the tub, littered with garbage and dead insects; thankfully she hadn’t seen any mice or rats.

  Living in Uganda, over the last three years, she’d encountered many animals, reptiles and insects, but still a rat frightened her more than a man-killing venomous snake.

  The cold from the porcelain seat traveled through the thin robe and the barely-there panties she wore underneath. The chill continued down her body to her feet. She kept her bare toes on the small, dirty rug and away from the floor. It probably carried some kind of fungus. It was hard to suppress her inner doctor, she looked at every situation from a medical standpoint. And whether the floor was in an American hospital, an African clinic, or a dirty crack house, they were all the same--smothered in disease.

  She was back to waiting. Waiting for him to bring her food, waiting for him to leer at her, and ultimately, waiting for Greg to bring his wife to him. A part of her wanted him to say no, that he didn’t give a rats ass about his wife, and that he only wanted to be with her.

  She held little hope Greg would be able to convince Lucessa to trust him again in such a short time. Greg had been unable to tell his wife he wanted a divorce, instead leaving it up to her to find a way around telling her. Which she had, but now the plan had backfired on them both.

  Rubbing her hands against her arms underneath the robe, she thought about their relationship blossoming in the Ugandan desert.

  She’d first fell in love with Greg because of his superior skills as a doctor. He was so level headed during an emergency in the clinic, mending the broken arm of a local villager while delivering the baby of another. Too late she found out he was useless in all other things. He couldn’t make a decision about small things, like what to make for dinner or large things like filing for divorce. But she’d already fallen in love.

  Love is a funny thing.

  She’d been powerless to help herself.

  Now she feared Greg wouldn’t fulfill his duty and instead run. Away from the men and the horrible situation, but also from her. What was I thinking getting involved with him?

  A scratching sound in the next room drew her attention from her hopeless situation. Darius must be waking from a long night of extracurricular activities. He’d locked her back in the bathroom, a false, pitying look on his face and hurried off after their dinner. He’d returned very late.

  The house had vibrated with music, laughter, and feminine screaming before sleep had finally claimed her hours or maybe just minutes before she awoke. Feet hit the floor and moved away from her, possibly to the front of the house.

  “Hello,” she called.

  No answer came.

  # # #

  Darius retrieved the breakfast his men brought him--fresh fruit, bagels, and cream cheese. He’d instructed Alexander to arrange for a nice spread for Sandy.

  It’s as if I’m trying to impress her or something. The Dark One is right, a screw is definitely loose in my head!

  He cursed the cold as he walked back to his room. A heater that actually worked would help, but then again electricity would be nice, too. Once he took his rightful place in his new kingdom, his home would never fall below seventy-two degrees; and cleaned daily. Years ago these things hadn’t mattered to him.

  The remainder of their dinner stood stale on the table, no doubt feeding the mice that lived among them. He swiped the leftover food and wrappers off the table and onto the cluttered floor. As he drew his arm back, a piece of lettuce stuck to his sleeve. He plucked the leaf from where it clung and dropped it to the ground. He heard a small noise, maybe a sneeze, from the other side of the bathroom door. She must be awake and probably very hungry. After unlocking the door, it swung open on rusted hinges. Dr. Adams--he needed to work on distancing himself from her--sat on the toilet, the robe wrapped tightly around her body. I need to warm up this hellhole.

  Her look appealed to him. He enjoyed his women weakened and ready to beg, although he didn’t relish keeping her locked up with no company, no light, little food, and freezing temperatures. But she’d be ready soon to throw herself into his waiting arms and forget all about Flynn.

  “Come join me for breakfast, Dr. Adams,” he said, swinging the bag.

  Chapter 24

  Lucessa traversed the hallways that’d become so familiar to her over the last several years. Nurses waved to her in greeting.

  “Hello, Marie,” Lucessa said, entering her mother’s sterile room.

  “Well aren’t you a pretty little thing. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Lucessa.”

  “What a familiar name, I think I once knew someone named Lucessa.”

  She held back the tears as her mother spoke her name. Ironically, this was the place she could find normalcy as she sat with the woman who cared for her for so many yea
rs and was so familiar. Most days immense sadness filled her. A sadness so complete her heart felt ripped in two, but today she experienced only comfort--and stability.

  “How’s your day going?” she asked her mother.

  “Just lots of resting.” Her mother’s eyes never left the window. “The weather is dreadfully hot outside. I’ve changed my clothes three times.” Her eyebrows rose and fell, her hands did the same. Her mother always did exaggerate her feelings.

  Lucessa wasn’t surprised Marie didn’t know the season. In fact, she refused to leave the main rooms of the home. Lucessa had originally selected this facility because of the extensive gardens around the building, but her mother didn’t venture out to enjoy what she once held dear.

  Finally her mother turned from the window and focused her eyes on her daughter’s. How can she not see our resemblance? A spark of recognition passed across her face, but was quickly replaced with a welcoming smile. “Well aren’t you a pretty little thing. What’s your name?”

  Lucessa was prepared for this, but it still caused her gut to turn and a heaviness to settle on her heart. “Lucessa.”

  “What a familiar name, I think I once knew someone named Lucessa.”

  Greg hadn’t understood why she put herself through this hurt every time she visited. He never understood the love she had for her mother and the responsibility she felt to take care of her.

  “I need to talk to you.” It was unlikely Marie would remember once Lucessa left, but her mother was a good listener and sometimes gave excellent advice.

  “I do hope I can help, dear,” Marie reached for Lucessa’s hand. “Please sit.” Lucessa took her usual seat next to her mother’s rocking chair.

  “My problem has to do with two men.” It was awkward at first, always having to bring her mother up to speed. “I have two men in my life. I’ve known both for a very long time.”