Page 48 of Addicted in Blood
“You can’t think of that person or their reasons.You have to think of yourself.You might never have come out of that coma.”
I nodded and drank the espresso.The caffeine gave me a jolt, and I glanced at the customers.“Do these people even know we’re here?”
“No.And you have enough to think about than to worry about the customers.Be patient.”She fidgeted in her seat.“You could have considered more comfortable chairs.”
“Next time.”
She clucked.“Your medallion channels your power.Focuses it like a laser beam, allowing you to spend less energy on the construct so you have more power to call people from their dreams.Up to now, you’ve been doing it while you’ve been sleeping, your powers coming from strong emotions.Now comes the time for the constructs to come when you call them.Eventually, you’ll know when it’s safe to call others.In the more advanced stages, you’ll be able to reach out to other dreamwalkers.”
“Other dreamwalkers.”The thought was interesting.“So, what?Do all the dreamwalkers get together a few times a year for backyard barbecues, tailgate parties, and the holidays?”
She ignored my sarcasm, but her eyes twinkled, making me think I wasn’t far off.The thought delighted me.
“Is it possible for a non-dreamwalker to initiate a dreamwalk if they had the medallion?”I was thinking of Lyra.I thought the nightmare of the shifter massacre had been my doing, but what if it had been Lyra’s?
“Why would you ask that?”
I shrugged.“Just curious.”
She eyed me for some time, but when I returned my best poker face, the one that drove Devon mad, she relented.“It has been known on a couple of occasions that a non-dreamwalker, one who had been previously introduced to a construct, can create one if they have a medallion.But they can only call the dreamwalker with whom they’ve dreamwalked with.”
It was an interesting concept but didn’t answer how Lyra ended up in that dream.I hadn’t even known who she was at the time.
“You must learn to block others from taking over your constructs.They can be invited in, but may never take control.”
“How will I know I’m strong enough?”
“When you can block my attempts for control.”
That deflated all my expectations for an easy lesson, and I drained the espresso.When I thought about having another, a fresh cup appeared.I picked it up, drew in the intoxicating scent of the brew, and smiled at Colantha.
She winked, and we were sitting on top of a mountain peak.The wind blew the snow around us, and, within a minute, we were covered in white powder.I glanced down to find my cup of espresso still in my hands—frozen.My teeth began to chatter, yet Colantha looked warm and toasty in Sherpa gear.Bitch.
Next, we were at the beach.A small cove just south of Santa Cruz.I’d driven down with a bunch of kids from high school, and we stayed until almost midnight, roasting marshmallows and getting drunk.I’d been grounded for a week when I climbed up the trellis to my room to find Christopher waiting for me.But that day had been one of the happiest in my life.
I wasn’t holding the espresso anymore, and to my irritation, Colantha wasn’t in her snow gear.She was dressed in a white summer dress, lying on a chaise lounge while I sat in the sand.She turned and gave me a shit-eating grin.There was a goddamn flower in her hair.
No doubt about it.This was war.
I woke with a splitting headache.The first session with the medallion lasted three hours.We would have still been going, burning ourselves out, if Frederick hadn’t doused the flames before turning on the room lights until they were so intensely bright they snapped us out of the construct.
Colantha’s irritation melted quickly, and when I glanced at Frederick, his face was etched with concern.It was my best guess considering this was the first time he’d ever shown any emotion.We broke for food, juice, and two hours of sleep.Jamison kicked my bed an undetermined number of times to wake me up.Two more glasses of juice and another two-hour session.
Even though Colantha continued to overpower my constructs, it wasn’t all bad news.I couldn’t figure out how she adapted so quickly to each new construct, but I was improving at a fast pace, changing wardrobe, chairs, colors.I even created an ice cream cone.Did they have the same caloric impact as the real deal?Colantha dashed my hopes on that one.
The one thing I couldn’t do was take control of the construct.After two more sessions, I was carried to my room, where I slept like the dead.The only reason I’d woke now was the beam of light from the window stabbing me with its intensity.I sat up, looking for the juice Jamison always left on my nightstand, but nothing was there.
I stumbled to the bathroom and started to shake.It was mild, but enough to make me notice.When I made it to the coffeemaker, I found the note.
Meet us in the common dining room.
The headache and shivers stuck with me as I stumbled across the grassy path to the center bungalow.Each step was like dragging a twenty-pound weight.I heard voices when I entered the building.
Sergi was at the table with Colantha and Frederick.I was surprised to see him, but it probably came across as the pained grimace it was.He was at my side before I could register the movement.He helped me to the table, and I caught his glare at Colantha, which earned him a cluck.
“The next couple of days will be difficult.She’ll need plenty of bed rest, hydration, and no dreamwalking.”
“Why is she shaking?”He lifted my chin to look into my eyes, and when I couldn’t tolerate the bright light, I pushed his hand away.Or tried.It was like pushing a snowplow out of the way.After another few seconds, he relented and let my chin drop.“She has a headache.”
