Page 79 of Obsessed in Blood
Lyra made Hamilton sit with her on the sofa, and they held each other as Hamilton honed the details—where the door and window were, what he saw when he looked out the window, and what he remembered of the hallway he’d been taken down when he was moved from his first cell.
After that, he needed a break, and we met back after an hour. He continued with the hallway he stumbled down when he was taken upstairs several decades earlier for what he called Lorenzo’s sessions, which he remembered being the first floor. Then he provided a snapshot of a door that we suspected to be the main entrance into the facility. Slowly, the building I’d seen on the island began to take shape.
It was during this last session that Hamilton was introduced to Devon. He seemed hesitant around Lyra’s brother and what his intentions might be, but it wasn’t long before he fell under Devon’s magnetism. It reminded me of how old Devon was and the battles he and Sergi spoke of during Family meals or evening drinks in the library. He’d commanded battalions, something I couldn’t quite wrap my head around—hundreds if not thousands of men following him unquestionably into battle.
Once, Hamilton had called Devon "Guildford,” which had stopped the conversation. Then Devon smiled, seeming to take it for the respect with which it was given, and the two seemed to find common ground. When Devon began to ask more detailed questions, suggest weak points, then wait for Hamilton’s opinions, the rest of the session moved rapidly.
Not long after that, Colantha put a stop to the construct.
It had been two days since we began the sessions, and while it was taking a toll on me, Lyra grew strength from it.
“This has to be hard on you.” I picked at a blade of grass and watched a small caterpillar make its way over a small stretch of dirt.
“Even harder for Hamilton.” Her tone was bright and cheery, which seemed at odds with their situation.
“You believe we can get him out.”
“Don’t you?”
I nodded but refrained from looking her in the eye. “It won’t be easy. We need to wait for everyone to report back and see what plan we can piece together, but in the end, we have to try.”
“It would be easier if Colantha could bring Lorenzo into a construct and tie him in chains.”
“If only. But Devon’s right. Unless Lorenzo has a willing dreamwalker working with him, making him aware of what we can do, we need to keep our abilities a secret until we need them. I don’t know what Devon has planned after we rescue Hamilton, but his larger mission with Remus is still the ultimate goal.”
“I know. Though I still say it would be cathartic if we could each have ten minutes with him.”
I laughed, not able to disagree with the sentiment. A sailboat headed north along the coast with four people visible on the deck. It stuck with me for a reason I couldn’t explain, and I tucked it aside to consider later. I changed topics, ready to ask a question I’d been putting off.
“Hamilton seems to be accepting all this rather easily.”
“I don’t know. I think it was difficult for him in the beginning. From what he’s shared with me, he didn’t know what to make of you and Colantha, but he was aware of being in a construct. He thought Lorenzo might have found another dreamwalker and this was a new form of torture.”
I winced. “It was pretty obvious he didn’t feel comfortable. I think he was a bit freaked when he found himself in Guildford’s study, but at the same time, it seemed to bring him comfort. But I’ll never forget his face when he saw you.”
“Everything seemed to click at that moment. Maybe it finally became real and gave him an ounce of hope.” Her voice cracked a bit, but she shook it off, her gaze seeming to focus on the same boat I had. “I swear it was like those hundred years never happened.” Tears rolled down her cheek, and she wiped them away. “I’m sure he didn’t see the same frivolous creature who cared about parties and fashion. He says I’m stronger, more assured. He pointed out a small wrinkle.” She laughed. “I was devastated.”
And that made me laugh.
“But it was meeting Devon that solidified our intentions. He sees my father in my brother. I never looked at Devon in that same light. Certainly not as clearly as Hamilton sees it. This might sound strange, but I feel like I’ve been in the same prison as him.” She glanced up at her third-floor apartment. “I’ve been locked away in the same room for as long as Hamilton’s been in his prison. The only difference was that mine was self-inflicted.”
“That’s not entirely true.” I ran a hand down her arm. “In fact, I’m positive it’s not true at all. You were in an accident that took everyone you loved. Then, before you could make sense of it, you were brought into nightmare constructs that twisted your reality. No one knew what Hamilton could do. No one even considered the fact he could still be alive or that someone kidnapped him. If you didn’t have your painting and midnight walks, you might still be locked away in your mind. That’s not frivolous or self-inflicted. You were a victim as much as Hamilton was.”
Lyra took my hand, her tears once again brimming on the edge of her lashes. “You’re a good friend, Cressa. As I’ve said before, you were always meant to be here. You’re our salvation.”
Devon checked the library,theater, gym, and widow’s walk, then made a second visit to the kitchen before running up to Lyra’s room. As a last resort, he circled the outside of the house, but he couldn’t find Cressa anywhere.
He checked his office before climbing the stairs to the second floor, kicking himself for not checking the solarium and pool, but was too tired to go down and confirm. It seemed foolish to call her cell to find out where she was in the house. He should install an intercom system. He grinned. She’d probably be averse to wearing a GPS tracker.
Instead of turning right toward his room, he turned left on impulse. He should have checked her room, but she had wanted to move about because she said the manor felt confining. He knocked lightly, not expecting an answer. He held his ear to the door and heard breathing. He’d found his thief.
He cracked the door open. She was on the bed, mostly dressed, lying on her belly. Her head faced the hearth, and a few tresses stirred with each long, slow breath she took. She had to be mentally wiped from the last two days. Though she had drunk less juice than when she’d been in New Orleans, the extra sessions with Hamilton and withdrawal from the juice should have prepared him for her eventual crash.
He kicked off his shoes and lay on his side next to her while he watched her sleep. Somewhere, early on, she’d become more than an asset to help him reach his goal. She’d become an integral part of the Family and his cadre.
He remembered their first major fight. It was the night of Gruber’s tea party when she took it upon herself to steal a document she’d overheard Gruber talking about. Devon had been upset she’d taken such a risk. If she’d been caught, it could have jeopardized his mission, yet she’d discovered an important document that was one of several required to remove his censure. She’d done that for him. She could have just as easily told him about it after he’d returned from the impromptu Council meeting. He knew she did it because she’d been bored and her instincts to snoop were too great to ignore, but at the same time, she wouldn’t have done it unless it was something that would aid his cause.
It was also her way of showing him her worth. Her fear of being returned to The Wolf, or worse, Sorrento, had plagued her. He could smell the scent of her fear and uneasiness in those early days. But still, it had touched him. They’d been through a great deal together, and there was so much more to come.
