Drake (Book 1)

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[63]-If remembering me

London

2:37 p.m.

Lynda Valeska swept the newly renewed floors of her ballet studio. The construction crew packed up their equipment and did one last safety check before retiring for the day. The studio neared completion and would soon be open for business. But ballet would not resume. Lyn promised herself one thing: She had to find Drake and reconcile with him no matter the cost.

Godfrey wasn’t the same man when he returned from his journey to the sewers. She could have mistaken him for a mute at first glance. He cleaned, made her tea, cooked supper, and excused himself afterwards until morning, repeating the process.

Kalen remained his usual self, drinking throughout the day, reeking of alcohol and sleeping. Regardless, she remained grateful for his servitude; when the need arises, Kalen always delivered. This was enough for her, so if he wanted to enjoy a hearty beverage (mostly whisky) who was she to stop him?

The door rang as Kalen entered, a paper sack cradled in his arms with a bottle poking out. As if he could feel Lyn’s penetrating gaze, he turned and made a face. She crossed her arms and tapped a foot.

“I thought you were out patrolling…”

Kalen shrugged. “I was! Just thought I would pick something up on the way back.”

Lyn scoffed but reminded herself that this was nothing unusual. Her face softened to a smile, and she resumed sweeping. The studio reeked of cement, caulk, and sheetrock all of which also scattered across the unfinished studio. With Kalen being a werewolf, she could only imagine the intensity of the odors flowing through his nostrils. He had explained it once: how after time he became less sensitized to certain odors.

She never knew renovations could be so tedious — or messy. She only wanted two things right now: one, she wanted her man back, and two, teach ballet again and complete her play Swan Lake.

Godfrey and Kalen were creatures of habit. They despised chaos while emphasizing the importance of order and authority, which they displayed in their actions. Whether Godfrey organizing parties or Kalen enforcing Drake’s will on their enemies; they executed each task with perfection and extreme prejudice.

She liked that about them, being predictable and all. Drake and Sullivan were the opposites, agents of chaos. The thrill they incited in her was addicting — insatiable.

The doorbell rang again, and she never expected to see Sullivan Grundy step foot in her studio with Rain behind him. She froze and dropped her broom.

“Hello, Lyn,” he said, smiling.

Kalne growled and stepped forward to intervene. However, Lyn stopped his stroll as he prepared to transform, whiskers already covering his face. Rain stepped aside, keeping her gaze on Kalen, her hand ready to draw her great blade at any moment. Sullivan glanced at her, grinned, and then turned back to Lyn.

“You’re still mad about what happened on the yacht?” he asked. “Understandable. My dear Lyn, I never intended to kill you.”

Lyn glared and squeezed her fists, her rain-like eyes fierce. “You lying bastard…”

Sullivan’s face twitched with evil and grimace. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry.”

His eyes widened, and he ambled around the studio, arms crossed behind his back as he inspected the building’s architecture. He slid a finger down a wall of sheetrock, still drying, and punched a massive hole. Lyn blanched as chunks of rock fell and rolled across the ground.

Sullivan faced her, a sardonic smile on his face. He sauntered to the mirror panels attached to the walls and shattered them, one by one. Lyn yelped as he continued decimating her studio.

“Why are you doing this!”

He sneered and felled a scaffold, watching it shrink into a pile of limbs. Rain and Lyn shared a glance, a silent battle being fought between them. She could challenge Rain even without her bow, Styx. But Sullivan remained their most formidable foe, able to annihilate life with the snap of a finger.

Godfrey emerged from the door upstairs, perplexed and struck with terror. He realized the gravity of their predicament and rushed to Lyn’s side, placing himself between her and Sullivan.

“This studio means a lot to you doesn’t it Lyn? I’m sure the butler and that werewolf do, too. Tell me where Drake is.”

Sullivan’s body glowed, crimson flames emitting from him, pure light replacing his eyes. Bright orbs formed in his hands, each of them resembling a tiny sun. Lyn could feel the heat emitting from him even with Godfrey and Kalen between them. He snapped a finger and set a section of the studio ablaze.

Kalen growled and shifted to full form. Before he could pounce Sullivan, Rain swung her blade, cutting him in half. Blood splattered the floor as Kalen’s halves went their opposite ways. Godfrey gasped and Lyn stifled a scream with her hands. Rain planted her blade and returned to Sullivan’s side.

The pyrokinetic man waved, spreading his deplorable flames, which consumed half the studio. “Tell me where he is or I’ll burn this place down. I want Drake to know you betrayed him one last time before his demise…”

Lyn fell to her knees. “Please stop…”

Sullivan turned to Godfrey, and with another snap, snuffed his flames. The shadows returned to the studio, and the flames dispersed, leaving no evidence of their existence.

“My flames only burn what I want them to. Burning your studio won’t be enough. So, I’ll do this instead.”

He nudged towards Rain and she stepped forward, snatching Godfrey’s neck and lifting him in the air. Godfrey squirmed as Rain’s overwhelming grip siphoned the air from his lungs.

“GODFREY!”

Suffocating, Godfrey muttered in broken words. “Lyn- don’t tell him anything-!”

Rain secured her influence until Godfrey’s face turned blue. Lyn’s tears christened the floors, her face painted with misery. She looked up, faced Godfrey and said: “Godfrey, it’s okay. Tell him.”

Rain tilted her head and released him. Godfrey gasped, taking a moment to catch his breath. The color returned to his face as Lyn massaged his back.

“Leading him to Drake will be our best chance to kill him…” Lyn whispered, disguising her voice under Godfrey’s coughs.

Godfrey nodded warily. “The sewers. He’s hiding in the sewers…”

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