Only in Her Dreams (17 page)

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 years 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.”

“Men are a hassle. You can’t live with them and you can’t bury them in the back yard. That is just not good for the flowers.” Her mother’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Most people mistook Marie for a nurse at the home when she was responsive. Her hair was still a rich brown and her skin was wrinkle free. “Do you love both of these men?”

“It isn’t like that, M--” Lucessa caught herself before she called her mom. The doctor said that when she visits it’s important she didn’t upset or confuse Marie. This could cause harm to both her mother and the staff. “One is my husband and the other is a man I’ve known for over twenty years. They’re both staying with me, but there’s a lot of tension. Almost like they feel threatened by each other.”

Lucessa studied her mom knowing she’d have no reaction. She wouldn’t have remembered Greg’s death.

“Tell me about them, dear.” Marie shifted her position on the chair to face Lucessa.

“Well, Greg, my husband left for Uganda over a year ago and he died of malaria two months after he got there. He was shipped back to me in a box and it was too painful for me to verify that it was indeed him in the casket.” She sighed. “Then he shows up on my doorstep last night, beaten and bruised with no explanation of where he’s been for the last year.”

“You’re not happy to see him?” Her mother was a very perceptive person.

“That’s the problem. I should be overjoyed to have him back.” A part of her hated using her mother as a sounding board—a way to get her own thoughts straight.

“But you don’t feel that way, and that troubles you.”

“Exactly, I think it has something to do with the arrival of Maxim.” She paused, looking to see if she’d confused her mother yet. “That is the man I’ve known for over twenty years.”

“I figured this,” Marie huffed. “He must be a very handsome man.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you blush every time you mention him.”

Wow, a mother will always know her child’s heart of hearts.

Lucessa pushed ahead, choosing to ignore her mother’s last comment. “Maxim thinks Greg will hurt me again. He’s very protective of me.” This was an understatement. His only responsibility was to protect her.

“He sounds like a very special man. These types of men don’t come along very often. I once had a man, Guy, he was the same as your Maxim, very protective of me and our daughter, Lucessa.”

Lucessa saw the wheels turning in her mother’s head, connecting her name and her daughter’s name. Lucessa prayed for these moments every time she walked into the nursing home. But the light of recognition faded as quickly as it appeared.

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

# # #

Maxim stood in the hall, listening to the conversation between the women. His soul hurt for Lucessa. How she bore her weekly visits at the care home, he didn’t know.

“Can I help you, sir?” a voice asked behind him.

“No, thank you. I’m waiting for a friend. She should be out momentarily,” Maxim replied.

The young nurse looked down at her watch and back up to him. “She’ll be another thirty minutes. There’s a waiting room down the hall and to the left if you want a cup of coffee.”