Page 31 of Obsessed in Blood
“Where are your vampires?” Sergi asked.
“In Devon’s office with the rest of us.” She lifted her hands in a calming gesture. “They are there as protection since our bodies will appear unresponsive.” She sat back and studied Lyra. “I sense you’ve dreamwalked before.”
Lyra, who smiled as if enthralled by the change in scenery, nodded vigorously. “Several times.”
“And not just with Cressa.”
Her smile faded. “No. Not just with Cressa.
“Our bodies were left defenseless in the office?” Simone gripped the arms of the chair and though made of stone could be easily crushed.
Devon laid a hand on her arm. She didn’t remove her hands, but her grip lessened.
“Quite so,” Colantha answered. “Which is why Frederick and Jamison always remain behind.”
“Have you been able to connect to Cressa?” Devon hadn’t shared his last experience with anyone. He wanted to speak with Lyra first, but he was still processing it, almost believing it had been a true dream rather than a construct.
“I haven’t tried. But you have. And I believe your latest attempt was more fruitful.”
He shrugged and ignored the stares from the others. He squeezed Lyra’s hand, and though her expression was more than curious, she squeezed back. “I’m not sure I was successful.”
“I believe you were.” Colantha glanced down at her hands, her brows furrowed. “I don’t think most of you are ready to hear what I have to share, but as I said, time is of the essence. Dreamwalkers have a connection to a psychic nexus that can turn energy into matter. Some believe it to be spiritual in nature, others believe it comes from the links that form the constructs of the dreamworld. Who’s to say which is correct? I believe it’s a bit of both. Those with great power who have practiced their art and honed their skill, can, under the right environment, connect with other dreamwalkers to share a construct. If powerful enough, they can sense another dreamwalker and gauge their connection to the nexus.”
She glanced around the table, and Devon followed her gaze. The initial concern and confusion had been replaced by curiosity, except for Sergi and Simone, who still appeared unsettled.
“From what Devon tells me, and by my current demonstration, this next part should already be evident. It is possible for a dreamwalker to bring what we call an Outsider, someone who isn’t a dreamwalker, into a construct at will.”
“What if we choose not to participate? There must be a way to break free of your hold.” Lucas appeared more curious than fearful, but his question was key, and Devon was just as interested in hearing the answer.
Colantha sighed and focused on her hands for a minute before facing the group. “It is difficult for an Outsider to remove themselves from a construct without the proper training or a more powerful will. I feel one of you now on the edge of breaking free.” Her gaze turned to Simone. “And it was the knowledge of this single ability that vampires began to distrust us. I will admit, there were a handful of rogue dreamwalkers who took advantage of that ability.” Her face turned as hard as the stone table. “But rather than wait for us to bring those dreamwalkers to punishment, the Vampire Council acted hastily.” Then her voice lowered and muttered, “To their own detriment.”
She took a deep breath as if to calm her rising anger. “But that is a discussion for another time. I simply mention our abilities for two reasons. First, to be open in our communication as to what dreamwalkers are capable of. Second, I have reached out to Cressa to test her connection to the nexus. In my first attempts, it felt smothered, which I assumed was a side effect of the mesmerizing.”
She turned her gaze on Devon. “You dreamwalked with Cressa again and found a time when Venizi’s mesmerizing was at its weakest. Even under Venizi’s spell, she has a strong connection to you. I believe wearing the medallion increased the rate of your success. Though the mesmerizing continues to impact her abilities, I sense an awakening.”
“Then why are you here?” Devon asked.
Her grin was wide as she rubbed her medallion. “To help power your connection to her.”
ChapterEleven
I wokeand pulled the covers to me, rolling over to watch the intense blue sky out the bedroom window. Puffy clouds promised a splendid spring day, but I wasn’t feeling it. For a reason I couldn’t explain, I thought there would be another dream last night, but there hadn’t been.
There were remnants of the strange dream with Devon Trelane, but I was fairly certain that was my own subconscious playing tricks with me. As if trying to force me to determine fact from fiction. I wasn’t going to find out anything sulking in my room, so I threw the covers off and sat up. I stretched and considered a workout, but that would be problematic.
From what one of the human servants told me, the only gym was in another building used by Lorenzo’s security teams. There wasn’t a chance Lorenzo would allow me to go there. I’d have to be satisfied with my martial arts routine and ask if I could go outside for a walk around the grounds.
The clock said I had an hour before I was expected for breakfast, so I found the largest empty spot in the room and stood straight, arms at my side, and closed my eyes. I thought about martial arts, and a series of images came to me. After they repeated, I joined in, letting my body move languidly from one pose to the next. Before I could question them, additional movements urged me on.
I followed each one with precision, moving faster—ducking, jumping. When I dropped and rolled, I ran into an end table, knocking the lamp off. I grabbed it just before it hit the floor and hugged it to my chest while I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling and breathing hard. The laughter couldn’t be contained. It sprang out of me and seemed to release a pressure valve I hadn’t known was there. I jumped up and set the lamp on the end table, feeling energized when the door burst open.
I spun around to find Asshole giving me a nasty scowl. He scanned the room, searching for a threat, then marched to the bed and drew back the bed covers, tossing them back when he saw nothing was there. He spun toward me, his face an angry mask, and instead of being afraid, I planned which moves to use if he came at me. I wish I had my dagger.
I froze and stared at my hands. Why would I expect a dagger to be in them? Did I keep one with me to protect me from Trelane? If so, I would have given as much as I received. But I didn’t have any cuts or scrapes. At least, not recent ones. I did have scars. Something didn’t feel right. Nothing made sense.
“Where is it?” Asshole took a step closer.
I refused to budge. “Where’s what?”
