Page 4 of Obsessed in Blood
Devon paced behind his desk. “Did anyone call Decker?”
Before answering, Sergi glanced at Lucas, who, even as he continued his conversation, shook his head. “No.”
“See if he has time to stop by.”
Lucas finished his call, picked up his tablet, and took one of the chairs that surrounded Devon’s desk.
“Where’s Lyra?”
“She’s in her room.” Lucas glanced at Sergi, who had his head down, scrolling through his tablet. “She went there once news came that Jacques was taken to the safe house.”
“Is the healer here?”
“She left a short time ago.”
“Already?” Sergi piped in.
Lucas appeared paler than normal. “She spent five minutes with Lyra then left, complaining about wasting her time for someone who clearly doesn’t want her help.” When Devon sighed with exasperation, Lucas continued. “She left a few vials.” He nodded toward the bar where a small box sat. “Then she returned to the safe house. Do you want me to call Bella in?”
Devon shook his head. Bella wouldn’t be able to concentrate until she knew Jacques was recovering, and until they had more information she might as well provide as much comfort as she could. “She can stay there until she’s needed.”
He strode to the door. “Gather as much information as you can and notify me when Simone arrives.” He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor. Two guards were at Lyra’s door. Standard protocol when a member of the House was attacked.
He paused, wishing he’d taken the time to think this through more. Lyra must be aware enough if she kicked the healer out. Had she returned to her manic state? She had come so far in the last few weeks. If Lorenzo’s attack had set her back, Devon wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain the beast.
It had been put away, settled, yet it hovered as if it knew there were scores to settle. The beast held affection for Cressa, and until she was home, it would remain close to the surface. He would need blood to keep it at bay.
He shook off his concerns for Cressa and refocused on the matter at hand. The guards knocked on the door as he approached. No answer. He waited, deciding whether to knock again or just go in.
“Stop fretting and come in, brother.”
He lifted a brow. Apparently not manic.
He closed the door behind him and took tentative steps until he could peer around the divider to glimpse the main room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and three easels were positioned in front of the windows, each facing a different part of the backyard.
Lyra stood at the third easel, positioned to face the ocean. She wore a black, full-body, sleeveless leotard with a paint-stained apron tied around her waist. Sun streaked across the room, adding a touch of gold to the scene. The canvas was one of her larger ones, and it was smeared in broad red strokes. A shadowed figure stood just off-center, its gender undetermined. She dropped her paintbrush and picked up another. This one was heavy with blue paint, and she added short bursts at various spots, ending with long trails like the tail of a comet.
He watched her until she set the brush down then wiped her hands on her apron.
“Is she alive?” Lyra stared out the window.
“As far as I know. She wasn’t at the scene, and the fire hadn’t reached the passenger area.”
She took a huge breath and let it out. “Lorenzo.”
It wasn’t a question, but he responded anyway. “That’s my opinion. The sedan was rammed from the side. A semi blocked the escort car.”
“How is Jacques?”
“The healer and Bella are with him. He should make a full recovery in a couple of weeks.”
She nodded and rubbed her hands together—over and over. “I understand why you asked Madame Saldano to visit, but she shouldn’t have left Jacques.”
“The request was to see you after she was finished with Jacques.”
She nodded.
“How are you, sister?”
