The Blood of a Nightlock

Chapter Six

The right side of the room surprised me more than the left. Damian Hamilton stood there with his eyes on me and a polite smile on his lips. He had a doctorate in psychology and was Dr. Harden's professor. He and Mitchel went to school together and graduated at the top of their class in opposite fields. One in combat and one in psychological warfare. Hamilton was a handsome guy. Clean cut, suit and tie, and an easy smile. Light brown hair that he kept short and had a wave to it that swooped back to the back of his head. Like the classic fade you found on most male celebrities these days. The problem with Hamilton? He was an asshole. His family was wealthy investors in the school and because of that, he felt entitled. He could do what he wanted when he wanted. He vacationed where he wanted no matter the concern. He took a large number of Chosen security with him leaving some spots light in defense. That was something Mitchel hated him for and for good reason. The two never seemed to get along regardless.

Three years ago, Raven and I had witnessed a fight between the two men in the courtyard. They hated each other. I was surprised they were actually in the same room as one another at that exact moment. Another reason to not like Hamilton, he was the number one advocate in declining my acceptance to Briarwood. He was the reason the board even started a trial for it.

"Miss. Grayson," Dr. Walsh said from behind his desk, "thank you for joining us. I hope we didn't disrupt your day too much?"

I glanced around the room. "No, I was working on Dr. Harden's psychology assignment in the courtyard with Emmet Mason."

Dr. Walsh lifted his gaze to Dr. Harden and they shared a polite smile.

"Wrenlee, my name is Damian Hamilton." He held a hand out to me.

I stared down at his hand and nodded. "I know who you are."

"You do?" He asked, his hand still outstretched.

"You had a strong advocacy against me having proper training here at Briarwood." I said. "When I was a sixteen-year-old orphan, days after my family was murdered, you said you "didn't want people to think we were an orphanage taking in estranged children to save face"."

Hamilton's hand dropped away as he stared at me. He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure that's exactly what I said."

"I'm one hundred percent sure it's accurate." I said. "You also said that I was a flight risk and a suicidal statistic waiting to happen. I wouldn't make it to eighteen."

Hamilton stared at me.

I bent towards him and lowered my voice. "I'm twenty-three, Dr. Hamilton."

Dr. Hamilton straightened up and loosened his tie a fraction. "Well if these were things I said, I apologize. There were clearly signs that you were giving off indicating a lack of readiness."

"Do you know the textbook definition of a narcissist, Dr. Hamilton?"

"Of course." He said with a small smile, a light questioning tone to his voice.

"Do you realize you exhibit nine of the ten characteristics?"

Hamilton's face fell completely. "Miss. Grayson, if I felt your mental state was unfit to continue with a strategic and depleting training course, then I stand by that. It doesn't make me a narcissist to see what you've been through and think that maybe it'd be too much for your young mind to handle at the time. You've experienced a horrible tragedy that the rest of us couldn't even think to endure let alone persevere at such an alarming rate. I simply suggested we give you time to heal before throwing you into a rigorous training expedition."

I nodded. "Maybe that doesn't classify you as a narcissist, but I believe the media coined you as a 'mental breakdown waiting to happen' for any woman who dared a future with you and if that doesn't scream 'red flag', I don't know what would."