Page 65 of The Imaginary Friend's Obsession

I turn to Ezra, still fighting disbelief. He looks back at me with a tentative smile, and then we both stand and hug one another.

“You really did it,” I say. “You got him released.”

“You saved my life. I think we’re more than even.”

Ezra might not be quite as emotional about this as I am, but I know he invested a lot of energy and heart into Dorian’s release as well. And after years of struggling to do some good in this horrible place, it seems he’s finally made some real change.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says.

“Thank you for deserving it,” I say.

“Now, let’s go get Dorian out of that cell.”

I nod. “Do you think…would you like to meet him, before we go? Officially, I mean?”

Ezra blinks, surprised, like he hadn’t considered that. After his experiences with Godric, I wonder if maybe he’s had enough monsters for a while. But to my surprise, he smiles. “I think I’d like that very much.”

* * *

“Huh,” Ezra says, looking at the door to cell 15. Or, rather, the empty space where the door once was; it’s sitting on the floor in a twisted heap of metal. “I don’t think you mentioned this part to Director Wright.”

I wince. “Kind of forgot that detail.”

He chuckles. We both look inside to find Dorian sitting on the bed with his hands folded in his lap, waiting patiently.

I smile, holding out a hand. “Come here.”

A blink, and he’s there, gloved hand enveloping mine. I step back, leading him out of the room.

“I’ll just have to deactivate the barrier and grab his…” Ezra trails off, watching me. He blinks as I step back from the threshold, my hand still holding Dorian’s. He may not be able to see Dorian clearly, but we’re not exactly being subtle. “Ah. I see that wasn’t the only detail you left out.”

I shrug, unapologetic. For Ezra’s sake, I wanted to give the MRF a chance to free Dorian the right way and pave a new path for the facility and its monsters. But I was never going to be leaving this building without Dorian at my side.

“Dorian,” I say, squeezing his hand and looking up at him. “I’d like you to officially meet my friend Ezra.”

Dorian gives me a skeptical look from behind his mask. I shoot him an exasperated one. He sighs.

Ezra lets out a small, startled noise, eyes going wide as Dorian flickers into visibility beside me.

After a long moment, Dorian extends one gloved hand. “How do you do?”

“Er…nice to meet you face to…face?” Ezra sucks in a breath and reaches out to grasp it in his. The handshake is polite, perfunctory—but then Dorian reaches out to clasp Ezra’s hand with another, and then the other two, till he’s holding him with all four. While Ezra stands there, baffled, Dorian inclines his long body in a bow.

“I am very grateful for your assistance in my release,” he says. “And for your looking after Daisy while I was unable to. I’m glad she has a…” His eyes narrow slightly as he forces the word out. “Friend.”

“Oh. Er…My pleasure. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Grinning, I step forward and throw an arm around each of them, pulling them into a hug.

“Thank you both,” I whisper. Then I take Dorian’s hand in mine and smile up at him. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Iwake to a sudden draft. My eyes open in the darkness as the blanket slides down over my body. It reveals my scanty nightgown, my bare legs, until I am left entirely exposed and covered in goose bumps. The blanket slides off the end of the bed. By the time it’s pooled on the floor, I’m fully awake. I prop myself up on my elbows and blink sleepily at my empty bedroom.

The mattress dips beneath an invisible weight, and I feel, but don’t see, fingers ghosting up over my calves, my knees, my thighs. I try to sit up, but two hands grab my wrists and pin me down. Two others slide my panties down my thighs. I gasp and squirm as he pushes my legs apart and my nightgown rucks up around my waist, leaving me bare and exposed in the cool air. Then an invisible tongue licks a hot stripe over my core.

I whimper and arch my back, wrists struggling in vain against the invisible grip. To anyone else’s eyes, I would be completely alone in my room, writhing beneath nothing on the bed. I probably look insane. But I’m beyond caring about things like that at this point, especially when Dorian’s ministrations are driving me toward an inevitable peak. He licks me slowly, savoring me, teasing me. The entire time, all four hands are exploring my body—cupping my breasts, clutching my hips, pressing down on my stomach to hold me in place. Only when I’m a whimpering mess does he close his invisible mouth over me and give me the steady pressure I need. I cry out loud enough to echo in the house’s empty halls, and then sag back against the bed, panting.

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