Drake (Book 1)

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[41]-A whisper in the storm

London

12:45 p.m.

Godfrey knew Drake’s mortified expression all too well. He stood from the chair and ambled over to the dangling phone on Drake’s desk. He grabbed it and placed it back on its base with firm deliberation. It caught Drake’s attention and broke his pensive state. He and Godfrey exchanged a glance; a pigeon continued to peck on the window outside before flying off.

Godfrey crossed his arms. “Well?”

Drake sighed. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a single revolver, loading exactly six shots into it, and flicked its cylinder back in place. He stuffed the spare rounds in his coat pocket. Godfrey wore an accusing glare.

“I have a feeling you’ll need more than a revolver, sir…”

Drake shook his head and brushed a hand through his disheveled curls. Godfrey reached in his pants pocket, revealing a golden scarab. He presented it to Drake.

“What’s this?”

The scarab was already in his palm as Godfrey closed his fingers over it. He stared at Drake solemnly and said: “When the time is right, you’ll know.”

Drake adjusted his coat one last time before heading towards the door. He looked over his shoulder as Godfrey picked up the empty tea cups and tidied the office. The old butler paused for a moment and smiled.

“I’ll let the office know you won’t be in tomorrow.”

Drake returned a smile, a faint one but still a smile. “I better get going-”

He opened his door to see Lyn standing just outside it. Kalen accompanied her as they invited themselves into his office. Lyn shut the door behind her and gestured to Kalen. He nodded and locked it; then he sauntered over and closed the blinds to the window, closing the office in darkness. Drake brushed past Lyn towards the door but was blocked by Kalen.

“What are you doing!”

He attempted to weave around Kalen, but the werewolf stood his ground. Drake continued to bounce off his body. The man was like a brick wall, and Drake’s face grew dark with anger.

Sweat rolled down his face. He turned to Godfrey and then to Lyn. Neither one of them uttered a word. He released an angry growl and reached for the revolver in his pocket, centering its sight on Kalen.

“Don’t make me do this…”

Kalen snatched the revolver in an instant. Drake stumbled back and watched as the werewolf crumbled the revolver in his hands. He took a few steps towards Drake and cornered him against his desk. Lyn and Godfrey surrounded him. To Drake, their figures looked more like specters in the shadows with no shape.

“Drake,” Lyn said. She pulled out a dagger from her boots and sliced her palm. “We can’t let you go alone…”

“Lyn, what are you-?”

Kalen’s arms folded around him and pinned him against his body. Drake contended and squirmed, but Kalen’s grip wouldn’t yield. He could hear Lyn’s blood dripping across the floor as she approached him. As her hand entered a beam of light from the blinds, he could see the deep gash in her palm, gleaming red. He turned away from her.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, defeated.

He turned his head away again from her bloody hand. But Kalen wouldn’t allow it. His frying pan sized hands gripped Drake’s head and turned it towards Lyn. That was when he got a glimpse of the spiked collar around Kalen’s neck. It distracted his thoughts a mere moment. But the coppery smell of blood became irresistible.

“No. No. No. Lyn, please don’t do this… please-”

She covered his mouth with her bleeding palms. Drake’s body jolted and recoiled with sudden violence, but Kalen stood fast and tightened his grip. Lyn looked away but pressed her hand against his mouth as blood trickled down his chin while he drank. She couldn’t bear to listen to his muffled cries.

Please forgive me…

Drake’s body became limp, his legs no longer kicked and his cries ceased. Lyn nodded and Kalen released his grip, carrying him to a sofa. Godfrey took a handkerchief and wiped the blood stained across his lips. Drake slept like an infant, his arm dangling off the couch. Lyn knelt beside him and gave him several kisses on his head and cheek.

Her face was visibly troubled as she turned to Kalen and Godfrey. “He’ll be angry with us when he awakens. I will take the blame for it…”

Godfrey placed a hand on her shoulder. “No, he will understand. It had to be done.” He averted his gaze to the shelves of law volumes behind the desk. “This life he’s been living, it isn’t his. You are what his life revolves around Lady Lyn. He needs you.”

She forced a weak smile. “We need to take him to Hampshire.”

Kalen shrugged. “What if he doesn’t wake up in time? And where the hell in Hampshire are we supposed to go?”

“Where it all began,” Godfrey tersed.

Lyn lowered her head as if in penance. “The country-estate, home…”


11:40 p.m.

Agonizing screams filled his head, and Drake groaned. He looked out the window of the rolling train where the city limits had turned into lush forests and rolling hills. Hamlets nestled across the countryside where farmers harvested grain or spread seeds in their fields. The sky became a blood red with a hue of orange and purple as the sun made its descent. He felt like he was watching a movie reel, the way the countryside moved and changed.

But he reminded himself it was just the motion and speed of the train. Nonetheless, it felt that way every time he boarded a train. Disturbing thoughts continued to swarm his mind; Irene the snow covered maiden and Anna, the beauty kissed by fire with their anguished faces. He saw a glimpse of Lyn before the thoughts intensified, almost palpable to him.

She sat across from him in the first-class cabin, staring out the window sullenly. He took a moment to admire her beauty. No one in the world harbored such fine eyes that resembled rain or forest green hair that shimmered in every light. She was well endowed with full breasts, a tiny waist and athletic thighs. The perfect ballerina. He pondered a moment, thinking: Is she really mine?

“You’re awake,” she said, smiling. “That’s good. How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” he answered curtly.

She chuckled. “That’s expected. We’re nearly there.”

“Why bother taking a train to Hampshire? It’s so close?”

“Because you’ve always liked train rides. Remember when we took one across Europe? For our honeymoon?”

Lyn left her seat and made herself comfortable on top of him. Her eyes met his, and she blushed, turning a hundred shades of red. She took his hands and placed them on her bottom and began kissing his neck.

Drake gasped, and his face was perplexed. He conceded to her affection and relaxed his body. Lyn rubbed the terrible brand embedded into his chest.

“You are- my husband, after all.” She rested her head on him. “Hold me like you used to; so long ago, when it was nothing but our love. No plotting. No fighting. Just us…”

A tear rolled from her eye.

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