Page 38 of Obsessed in Blood
In a flash, the man was in a different cell. Light streamed in from a bare window. His hair was long, greasy, and tangled. A straggly beard hung to his chest, yet his eyes were as clear as a river stream, with no lines on his face to give away his age. He smiled. A beatific smile of another time and another place.
Then, his eyes refocused and stared at me, pleading. “Help me, Cressa. Help me.”
I sat up and grabbed my head, but the headache was gone. The covers had been kicked off, and I was still in the torn slacks. My knees stung, and my upper arm felt bruised from where Asshole had grabbed me to drag me through the manor.
Brigette.
It was becoming apparent I wouldn’t find a friend in this place. And I didn’t know if the building she showed me was meant to terrorize me or prove a point. I was a threat to her. Lorenzo’s new plaything. Was I living in a dream of cliches, or were all vampire Houses like this?
Memories of Trelane suggested otherwise. If he had been my abuser, assuming Lorenzo hadn’t lied, why didn’t I have nightmares of it?
I shuffled to the bathroom and stripped off my clothes then stood in front of the standing mirror. I turned to view my left side. There wasn’t a mark anywhere I could see. I faced the mirror where the only visible blemishes were the bruising on my knees—the result of the fall from the blinding headache.
When I turned to view my right side, the bruising that covered my skin from shoulder to thigh was now an ugly yellow, tinged with a dark purple as they began to fade. Even so, the marking still appeared uniform. The only new bruise was the one forming on my upper arm, as I suspected.
What would leave a uniform bruising? A beating from an abuser or being thrown against something. It had to have been a violent movement for my body to slam against something hard enough to leave the marks. A vampire throwing me against a wall? Or an accident?
The shower was hot and luxurious. After drying off and taking care with my hair and makeup, I walked into the closet and did two things. I pulled out my secret floor plans and made updates based on my walk earlier in the day, adding the outside buildings and a general recollection of the paths. They weaved through the landscape, but the dimensions seemed right.
Then, I reviewed my wardrobe. Images of another closet superimposed over this one. In addition to dresses, pants, and blouses, there were workout clothes, jeans, and cozy sweatshirts. I shook the other closet away and focused on the choices in front of me, pulling out a robin-egg blue sleeveless sheath dress and a light sweater. I ignored the four-inch neck breakers and found a pair of kitten shoes.
If Brigette wanted to play games, so be it. It was apparent I was on my own. Something nagged at me, convincing me this was far from the first time I’d been in this type of situation.
I’d just slipped on a necklace when the headache came again. This time, I found a chair before the images came.
“Stop it. Whoever you are, stop it. I’m here. I see you.”
I didn’t know why I said it, but it felt right. When the man’s face first appeared with his unwashed hair, his gaze flitted about, wide-eyed. Then he was clean-shaven, and his gaze was clear but still pleading.
“Find a way, Cressa. Find a way to free yourself, and then free me. Tell her I love her.”
The outer bedroom door burst open, and the image and headache vanished as if it never happened. Someone stomped around—most likely Asshole.
“What are you doing in here?”
Yep, it was him, and when I glanced up, he appeared surprised.
“I was getting dressed. Isn’t it almost dinner time?” I stood and brushed off my dress and stormed past him, bumping his shoulder hard as I went past.
“I thought Millie was running late.” He trailed behind me.
“I haven’t seen her.” With hands on my hips, I gave him a long look. “Believe it or not, I’ve been dressing myself since I was a little girl.” When he just stared at me, I shook my head. “Wow. All of a sudden not a single witty response. You’re beginning to disappoint me.”
I took a last look in the mirror over the dresser and waltzed out the door not bothering to wait or get his permission. It was impossible not to smile as he hurried to catch up. I ignored him as I wondered what game Lorenzo was in the mood to play tonight.
ChapterFourteen
Dinner was becoming a routine,boring affair. I ate with more purpose than usual, which made Lorenzo lift a brow as I accepted a second helping. My improved appetite was blamed on the fresh air from the garden. Since he didn’t mention Brigette, I didn’t bring her up.
We were drinking after-dinner cappuccinos when Lorenzo sat back and gave me a long look. “I hear you’ve been doing well with learning the house schedule.”
That surprised me. “Really? I didn’t get the feeling Mrs. Newbridge liked me.”
He smiled. “Oh, she doesn’t. But that doesn’t prevent her from giving me the facts. She admits your etiquette skills are adequate. And don’t pout. That’s high praise from her. I also understand she’s taken you through the main functions of the house.”
“I didn’t realize how complicated running a house could be. It got a little overwhelming at times.”
“Well, it didn’t seem to show.” He clapped his hands and leaned toward me. “I think some form of celebration is in order. I have some free time before a late-night meeting. What would you like to do?”
