The Dragon Prophecy Read online

  The Dragon Prophecy

  Carly Fall

  Edited by

  Divas at Work Editing

  Cover Design

  Qamber Designs

  Westward Publishing

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  * * *

  Does true love transcend death?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

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  Epilogue

  Also by Carly Fall

  About the Author

  The Dragon Prophecy © 2017 Carly Fall

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  1

  As he stared at his boss across the desk, Eric Thomas knew what would come before the man spoke.

  He was going to get fired.

  “I’m sorry, Eric, but we’re going to have to let you go.”

  Eric’s shoulders sagged, and he exhaled a long, slow breath. Rubbing his hand over his face to hide the smile that threatened to appear, he realized his fingers still trembled, just as they’d been doing for weeks.

  He gazed out the window at the company parking lot, biting his lower lip and hoping the grin didn’t spread across his face.

  After a moment, he met the gaze of his boss, Joseph Burtman. To anyone else, getting fired from an eighty-thousand-a-year job would be a huge disappointment that brought on high-octane stress.

  For him, it was the opposite.

  “I understand,” he said as the tension in his neck eased further, and he reached up to quickly massage the muscles. He hadn’t been able to turn his head to the left for a few months now, and the news of his firing seemed to be easing the area better than any muscle relaxant he’d been given.

  “You were doing great up until a couple of months ago, Eric. What happened?”

  As a computer programmer for Richards Industries, a tech company located just outside Roanoke, Virginia, his work had been stable and productive the first six months he’d been employed at the firm. In fact, his manager had called his performance ‘stellar’ in his six-month review.

  That had been before the nightmares had started. Since then, he’d been off his game for he struggled with insomnia and dreams so intense and disturbing, he often woke up screaming, his heart thundering, and every tendon in his body taut as he fought creatures that didn’t exist. While awake, he found it hard to concentrate on anything besides the visions in his sleep. However, trying to describe the raw fear he experienced during his few slumbering hours a night wasn’t something he was comfortable doing with anyone. Hell, he’d even been reluctant to discuss it with his therapist, who still couldn’t tell him if he was crazy or not.

  “I … I don’t know, Joseph.”

  And he truly didn’t. Besides the bloody images he saw while sleeping, he also couldn’t explain the woman with the white hair, pale skin, and bright sapphire eyes who also haunted his dreams. Beautiful in an ethereal way, she both terrified and intrigued him as she beckoned him to follow her, but she never said to where. However, he’d pieced together that she was somehow tied to the horror because her pretty face left his visions, then the bad shit started.

  “Are you still seeing the therapist?”

  Eric rubbed his palm over his face and shifted in his seat. He’d been through so much damn therapy, he wanted to put his head through a wall.

  Dr. Gardner was the best therapist in the Roanoke area, according to Joseph. He treated many of the employees at Richards Industries, mainly for stress and depression, from what Eric had heard around the water cooler. The company only employed the finest programmers, and getting hired by them was considered a great accomplishment. However, they also expected nothing but the best from their employees, and turnover weighed in on the high side. The jobs at the tech firm were demanding, requiring long hours and some weekends. It wasn’t unusual to put in a fifteen-hour day. The competition among the ranks tended to be pretty cutthroat, and he’d learned very quickly after taking the job that most of his coworkers wouldn’t think twice about putting a proverbial knife in his back in order to get ahead.

  Even so, he didn’t feel depressed. In fact, he felt completely normal, except for the nightmares and the daytime stress the lack of sleep brought on, not to mention the inability to concentrate. Dr. Gardner agreed that he didn’t suffer from depression but thought maybe the dreams had come as a result of some unsolved issues in his life, or even represented the environment of Richards Industries. Eric had given that some thought because he could see how nightmares of dragons, blood, and killing might resemble his workplace. Competition in the company was fierce, and most of the employees were back-biting ruthless bastards, but comparing them to mythical creatures didn’t jive for him.

  The dreams were too real, too vivid, as was the white-haired, blue-eyed woman. When she came to him, he saw every detail of her pretty features, such as her high cheekbones, full mouth, and the scowl she wore, almost as if she was frustrated with him when he didn’t follow her. He’d also noticed the angry scar that ran down the right side of her face that looked as if she’d been clawed by something.

  The intensity of her piercing gaze caused chills to run down his spine and sweat to break out over his body. He’d never been afraid of a woman before, but this one had him trembling every time she visited his dreams.

  After five months of therapy, they still hadn’t found any reason for the crazy, nerve-wracking dreams, so he’d quit going. If the therapist couldn’t say if he was crazy or not and couldn’t help him figure out why the dreams haunted him so frequently by now, Eric wouldn’t waste any more money.

  “Not any longer,” he said, meeting his boss’ gaze. “It didn’t seem to be helping.”

  “What about other medications? Have you seen your doctor?”

  He nodded, but didn’t offer any further information. The ten-minute visit to his primary care physician had garnered him blood panels claiming all his bodily systems were in perfect working order and a prescription for Ambien, pills to help him sleep. He’d taken one on a Friday night and woken up the next afternoon in the backseat of his car wearing only his boxers, with no idea how he’d gotten there. After researching the drug online, he found his experience somewhat mild compared to others’. Some people claimed they had woken on a neighbor’s lawn, and one man said he broke into someone’s house, end
ed up in jail, and had no recollection of any of it. That had been the last time Eric had taken the pill.

  “Well,” Joseph said, getting to his feet. “I’m really sorry about this, Eric. We had high hopes for you.”

  He also stood, and wished he felt some sort of regret or remorse, but he couldn’t drum up any. He’d been so twisted up and stressed about losing his job because of the nightmares, it had only made his anxiety worse. With the firing, he felt liberated.

  “Thank you for the chance to work at Richards Industries, and I’m sorry I let you down,” he answered, shaking Joseph’s hand.

  On some level, there was a bit of disappointment in himself, but he didn’t really feel bad about leaving. He’d given enough of his time to the company. Now, he needed to get his mind straightened out. He had no idea how to do that, but with Richards Industries out of his life, he could concentrate on what his next steps would be.

  “I hope you find out whatever it is that had you so frazzled. Take care of yourself, Eric.”

  He nodded and turned to leave the office.

  “Make sure you check out with Human Resources. Usually, they are the ones to let someone go, but I like you, Eric, and I’m concerned for you. I wanted to talk to you in person.”

  “I appreciate that, and I’ll head down there after I clean out my desk.”

  Joseph gave him a sad smile. “It’s already been done. Your things are in H.R.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. Others in his position would most likely find the invasion of privacy rude or intrusive, but he appreciated it. At this point, the less time he had to spend in the building, the happier he became. “If anything, Richards Industries has always been efficient.”

  “Very true. Take care.”

  He shut the door behind him, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone in his work pod. Frankly, he’d never really liked many of them, anyway.

  After signing paperwork in H.R. and grabbing his things, he walked out into the bright fall sunlight. The air held just a touch of the cool winter approaching, and the sun warmed his skin. He had the urge to skip across the parking lot as a happy child would do but refrained from doing so. Instead, he kept his steps quick and steady as he headed for his car.

  Slipping his sunglasses from his box of possessions gathered from his desk, he couldn’t fight the smile that curled his lips any longer.

  I’m free.

  Well, free of one stressor in his life. Now, he just needed to figure out what to do about the other one—the one that was making him question his own sanity.

  He clicked the key fob to the gray BMW X1 and slid inside, setting his box on the passenger seat. Then, he stared out the front window and wondered what his next step should be. Where did he go from here?

  Home would probably be a good place to begin.

  He started the car and drove toward his small apartment complex about twenty minutes away, listening to some R&B. With each mile he put between him and his former job, the better he felt. He rolled his shoulders as the knot in his gut began to unfurl and his eyelids grew heavy with relaxation.

  Thankfully, traffic flowed well, and he made it to his home in record time. As he unlocked the door to his apartment, an idea began to take form.

  Since getting his job at Richards Industries, he really hadn’t spent much money, his car being his only large purchase. He lived well below his means and threw the rest in the bank account. With no family to support, he’d be able to go without a job for six months.

  He walked in and threw his keys on the kitchen counter. The quiet, sparsely furnished one-bedroom apartment had met his needs for the past year while his focus had been on his job. Now that he’d been fired, he looked around with a critical eye.

  All the furniture was second-hand; things he’d picked up through Craigslist. There certainly wasn’t anything wrong with it, but he now realized it was as if he’d purchased it with the idea of being able to easily discard it. With something more expensive that he could certainly afford, he wouldn’t have been able to do so.

  The apartment complex sat in a fairly safe part of town, one he’d chosen at random due to its close proximity to the freeway. He spent so little time at home, he didn’t know any of his neighbors, and when he did socialize, it had been with people from work. He’d participated in drinks with them simply to keep his ear to the ground and find out who sat on the top of his co-workers’ shit list. They had always been willing to bring another worker to their knees and climb on their backs to get ahead, but that seemed to be the norm at the big tech companies across the world.

  He caught his reflection in the bathroom hallway as he made his way to his bedroom and stopped.

  Standing at six-foot-two, he kept his physique muscular by taking his lunch hour at the gym almost daily. His eyes held a deep onyx color, and he wore his curly hair short. What was going on with him?

  He walked into the room and leaned his hands on the sink as he continued to study his reflection. Why was he so relieved to have his life completely upended? He had to be losing his mind.

  A little over an hour ago, he’d had a great-paying job with a good future, yet, he hadn’t been able to handle the stress of Richards Industries combined with the nightmares.

  Maybe it was time just do a lot of nothing. Maybe if he just took some time to relax, he’d be able to get his head on straight, get some much-needed sleep, and in a few months, figure out his next step.

  The past twelve months had taken a lot out of him. It could be his dreams had simply been telling him it was time to rest, to do what he wanted when he wanted.

  “So, what do you want to do?” he asked his reflection as he unbuttoned his shirt. “You’re not depressed, and the jury’s still out on whether you’re losing your mind. Hopefully, we’ll be able to find the sanity that’s been lacking lately. You don’t have anywhere to be, no one to answer to. So, tell me, my brother, what are you going to do?”

  Saint’s Grove.

  The soft voice whispered in his ear and caressed the back of his neck as if a breeze had just blown through the bathroom, sending a chill down his spine.

  He gasped and turned, gripping the doorframe as he glanced at the living room to his right and then at the bedroom to his left, fully expecting to see someone there in the apartment with him.

  His heart thundered in his chest while the rest of his body seemed paralyzed. He listened closely for more voices, but after a few moments, none came. Unaware he’d been holding his breath, he exhaled heavily.

  Perhaps he was losing his mind, now that he seemed to be hearing voices.

  “This shit has to stop,” he muttered as he turned back to the mirror and grasped the edge of the sink again, while studying his reflection.

  For some reason, it was almost as if someone were on the other side of the mirror, staring back at him. He opened the medicine cabinet, feeling foolish that he’d even had to verify he was alone in the bathroom. After closing the panel, he sat down on the edge of the tub and placed his head in his hands and shut his eyes as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Saint’s Grove. Now, that may not be a bad idea.

  Since moving to Roanoke a year ago, he’d explored the area quite a bit during the little off time he’d had. About six months ago, he’d taken a car ride up through the Blue Ridge Mountains and had found a quiet little town named Saint’s Grove. It had looked like something out of a movie with its Victorian buildings, the shops lining the town square, the friendly people. The town had been steeped in urban legends—everything from a pack of werewolves living in the forests to witches living among the residents. While there, he’d always been able to find someone more than willing to share the stories at the Mountaintop Bar and Grill, especially if he bought them a beer.

  Maybe he just needed to relax and spend some time there—possibly do a little camping … try something new. A vacation might be all he required to get his brain functioning on all cylinders.

  He stood and moved ba
ck in front of the mirror. The feeling of unease had passed, and he took a deep breath. A change of environment would be good for him, and he’d always wanted to spend more time in the small, mountaintop town. Growing up a city boy in Chicago, the opportunity had never presented itself to do something like this.

  “Okay,” he said to his reflection. “Saint’s Grove it is. Let’s go pack.”

  As he strode into his bedroom and pulled out his suitcase, satisfaction he’d made a good choice filled him. It was a step in getting him out of this constant stress.

  Afterward, when he’d grown tired of fresh air, trees, and friendly people, he’d come back to Roanoke, and with his credentials, he’d have no trouble finding another job.

  2

  “Did you finally contact him?”

  Tirvu pressed on the thin barrier that separated her worldly dimension from Eorricris, or Eric, as he called himself in his current lifetime. The film moved, as if made of a clear, rubbery substance, but no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to break through. It was the barricade that kept her world separated from all the other dimensions in the universe.

  “No,” she murmured as she looked at Eric.

  Sometimes, she wondered if he could see her, especially in times like this when he stared at himself in the mirror. When he leaned in to study his own reflection, she saw every detail of his dark and handsome face, his lips close enough to kiss, the longing to reach out and caress his cheek overwhelming.