Page 87 of Addicted in Blood
“I’d considered it once before the heist, but you were still healing.And we had such little time, it seemed more important to focus on the job.”I wanted to add that he hadn’t made me feel welcome enough to share a dream.Although it wasn’t any better now.The rift between us seemed to be widening, and this was a last-ditch effort to close the divide.
“Sergi tells me you were successful in New Orleans, so I suppose this shouldn’t surprise me.”He spread his arms out to encompass the construct.
“I’m not sure what he means by successful, but I have learned some control when wearing the necklace.Colantha pushed hard to take over my dreams.It’s not foolproof.I’m strong enough to repel anyone trying to take over my mind, and I can retain control of my construct from those weaker than me.I’m not sure that’s saying much, but it’s a start.”
I couldn’t look at him.The longer he was here, all I wanted to do was run into his arms and beg his forgiveness.The problem was, I wasn’t convinced there was anything to forgive.I turned to face the ocean.The wind had increased, and the waves grew turbulent.I pushed away my frustration that was bleeding into the construct.My mood could effect it, and I should have remembered that.
“It doesn’t seem as if three days was enough to become an expert.”He sounded closer.
“She wants me to return for additional training.I told her it would have to wait until my debt had been paid.There’s a larger mission, assuming you still need my skills.”I wanted to say if he still needed me, but I wasn’t brave enough, terrified what his answer would be.
Warm hands caressed my shoulders and ran down my arms.They wrapped around my waist and pulled me against his hard frame.I closed my eyes and let my head fall against his chest.
“If anything, I need you more now.Our timeline has compressed.Lorenzo will be upping the game, so we have to be more aggressive in our approach.You are still very much needed.”
Then his lips touched my shoulder and traced a path up my neck until he nibbled my ear.They hadn’t been the exact words I wanted to hear, but something told me it might be a long time before we shared another moment like this—if ever.I wasn’t willing to miss it.
I turned and kissed him with every ounce of desire that yearned for him.If he didn’t grasp the depth of my affection and understand why I would risk the beast, then maybe this would tell him.
I let his return kiss linger as I pulled him to me.Some things hadn’t changed.He was just as eager, pushing the straps of my sundress down.I ran a hand through his disheveled hair as his tongue met mine.I worried for a nanosecond that my mindless lust might lose grip of the construct, but it hadn’t before, and that was when I had no clue the dreams had been of my own making.
The grass was cool against my skin when Devon laid me down.For a moment, his movements were tender, almost reverent.His touches scorching as he slid the dress off me.Then he became more frenzied as he ripped off his own clothes, his gaze never leaving mine.His eyes glowed with their preternatural icy blue before warming into the color of a lake at twilight.
I arched when he entered me, and as I threw my head back, day turned to night.Stars filled the night sky.Millions of them that most never see.I could almost sense the other worlds before I returned to him and this moment.
We were in a whirlwind, making up for lost time, as if pushed by a fever until there was nothing but entwined arms and legs forging into one.
It wasn’t the slow lovemaking we shared on other occasions, but it was no less passionate.When I laid my head against his shoulder and watched the heavens with him, I clutched my medallion.
He kissed my temple.“Did you discover what the symbols on the necklace mean?”His voice was rough from exertion.
“Yes.”I held the medallion in my hand so he could see it.“I don’t remember her exact words, but I think I can get close.The first symbol is the Blood Poppy.”I felt his body tense at the mention, which didn’t surprise me; I’d had a similar reaction.“Colantha called it the flower of life and knowledge.The bird is an ibis.Its meaning seems to be the most contested, but she believed it was a combination of rebirth, healing, and fertility.”
He shifted, but didn’t say anything.
“The last is the Dagger of Omar.”
“I’ve heard stories.Most believe it to be a myth.The believers, who keep to themselves, thought it to be lost centuries ago.”He repositioned himself to see the medallion better.
“There’s a symbol on the hilt that symbolizes the connection between dreamwalker and vampire.There wasn’t enough time to hear the stories, or so she claimed.Anyway, as you know, the symbols repeat on the back side but in reverse order.It represents a balance between dreamwalker and vampire.I wish I knew more about the dagger.”
He was silent as he turned the medallion over, and his fingertips no longer held the warmth from earlier.They were stone cold.
“There’s something else,” I continued.“I asked if it was possible for a non-dreamwalker to create a construct if they wore the medallion.”
I waited to see if he had a reaction, and I was intrigued that he picked up on its meaning so quickly.
“You mean like Lyra did when we saw the wolf massacre?”
I nodded.“She seems to think that once a non-dreamwalker is connected to a construct, they have the ability to do it themselves as long as they wear the medallion.”
“But when did Lyra visit a construct?Did you have a dreamwalk with her?”
“No.”I sat up.I didn’t want to get to a point where I had to lie to him.I wasn’t even sure Lyra knew she’d revealed that Hamilton, her lost love, had been a dreamwalker.He would have to get that direct from her.It wasn’t my place to share.
I pulled on my dress.“That does seem to raise questions.”
When I turned around, Devon was already dressed.He stepped toward me, and I didn’t move.It was his turn to tell me something.Like why he was so mad at me, and as much as I wanted to ask, it was up to him to explain his unreasonable behavior.Let alone explain why the cadre had become so distant with me.Were they equally mad that I saved him, that because of it he’d been left in a fog, or were they so tied to his emotions that they were simply mirroring his behavior?
