Page 28 of Exile (Dance with My Demons #4)

Damon

I should have known he'd pull something like this. And I'm punishing myself for not being two steps ahead because he could have easily hurt Avery. There's no doubt in my mind that he wanted to, but by proving he could take her from me at any time, he's sending a message.

War has begun.

I'm exceptional at finding loopholes, but he didn't get to where he is by playing clean and by the rules.

When Grey pulled me out of that bullshit class, it only took one glance in Avery's direction to realize what had gone down.

Theo was with them, but the expression on his face indicated he was just as uninformed as I was at first. None of us are ignorant fools though.

We can piece together events by observing and reading between the lines.

There's only one person who would send Avery back into the devil's lair in formal business attire. Only one person who would willingly keep her alive for now when he needs and wants her dead.

The fact that I allowed myself to believe she was somewhat protected is beyond forgiving. Even with all our measures in place—cell phones, guards in our pockets, access to the facility cameras, our own streams—he still bypassed them easily.

We clocked that she was missing by breakfast, and immediately sprung into action. Our first initial fear was that they had taken her downstairs again—but that theory was quickly dispelled with the assistance of Connor and applying logic.

To no one's surprise, the majority of Arthur's guards are pathetic gossip seekers.

A few inquiries from Connor and we were able to confirm that she wasn't even in the building at all.

But other than that revelation, no one knew where she was.

That part they had intentionally kept under wraps.

Nothing is accidental when it comes to my father.

Every decision, every choice is part of his master plan.

He had wanted us to figure out that she was gone.

He knows we'd catch on quickly, leaving just enough breadcrumbs in a trail until it goes dead.

I had already spoken to Christopher and set up a plan for him to search for her, but she was back before we could implement it.

Typical Alexander Dale strategy—he had this organized down to the millisecond.

While he may or may not have deduced that we would enlist Christopher's assistance, he focuses on timing and procedure.

It was no surprise that they dragged her out of bed before everyone else, to allow time for them to enact their plan before we even knew she was gone. And he'd know exactly how long it would take us to follow the clues and ensure that she was back at that specific moment.

The four of us are squared away in my room for this conversation.

I no longer trust that the library is secure, even if Byrone and Jillian are able to send the cameras offline during our meetings.

We need a plan, and we must start moving.

Things are already in motion, and now that he's pulled off this stunt, it's going to send him on a power trip which is dangerous.

He'll be adamant he's untouchable, and while I disagree, it means he will stop at nothing to bring us down.

We're still waiting for the specifics. My patience is already paper thin, but these two assholes ganged up on me, demanding I wait before interrogating Avery. It's frustrating watching Grey coddle her. Not because I want answers, which I do, but because Avery doesn't need it.

While it's clear that this morning rattled her and she's troubled by whatever went down, she's not on the verge of a nervous breakdown. If anything, I'm probably more inclined to suspect she's going to rage blackout judging by her tense posture and irritated expression.

"Can we move this along?" I finally snap, directing my question at Grey.

He coolly glances over his shoulder in my direction. "Chill, Deadman. Give her a few minutes to process things."

"Avery," I say sternly, shifting my attention to her. "Do you need processing time? "

Her light irises lift to meet my face, expression softening.

I'll never admit this out loud, but that simple gesture alights something in me.

To know I have an effect on her mood and demeanor, to have her look at me so fondly despite whatever turmoil is happening, it's addictive in a way I never anticipated.

I suppose that's a good thing since she's now stuck with me in unholy matrimony. It would be rather awkward if we returned to me threatening to wipe her from existence, and Avery slapping me whenever she got riled up by said threats.

"No," she answers after pondering the question for a few seconds, much to my amusement.

Grey laughs quietly, almost pouting like the competitive bastard just suddenly realized I'm on his level now and he'll have to try a lot harder to persuade Avery to take his side.

He stands, holding up his hands in defeat.

"Fine," he mumbles cheerily. "We'll do it the classic Damon way. Information first, therapy later."

He at least earns himself a laugh from Avery, who reaches forward to squeeze his hand.

"You can help fix me later," she teases.

I close my eyes, agitated that we're heading backwards on the fucking merry-go-round with these two again. They both get distracted by shiny things, which is counterproductive when they are both like black diamonds on a sunny, cloudless day—a never ending cycle .

My sanity must truly be slipping through the cracks because a second later, I find myself glancing in Theo's direction, silently requesting some assistance.

Theo stares back at me with a blank expression, but luckily, someone in this room still has some focus. He steps forward, slapping Grey up the side of the head. "Snap out of it, asshole. We've got work to do."

"Ow."

"Thank you," I muse before facing Avery. "Now, what did my father do?"

All playfulness vanishes from her face in an instant and it makes my blood boil.

It's clear that whatever happened has unnerved her, but still, she persists, filling us in.

As she details the ordeal, from the guards dragging her out of bed, to being forced to change in a room full of vile creatures, I secretly hope that it doesn't get much worse because I'm already on the edge of hunting my father down and being done with rationality.

But alas… that is never the case with him.

"… he made me sign some majority agreement so that we outvote you, as well as taking the liberty of organizing my affairs ," she spits out in disgust.

"Affairs?" Theo asks.

Avery locks eyes with me. "A Will—leaving everything I own to him and excluding you. "

"Deadman, we need to kill him—now," Grey mutters angrily. "No more delaying. Even if it means changing the plan."

"Fuck the plan," Theo interjects. "I don't give a shit about anyone else. He's planning on coming for Aves. We do something—now. I'm done fucking around and waiting."

On the outside, I'm managing to keep my composure while digesting this news.

But inside, I'm in complete agreement with them for once.

I'm probably seconds away from detonating and losing control, but I have to remain focused.

That's what he's counting on. My father will be laying in wait, hoping I take the bait and charge in with guns blazing.

When you act on impulse, things become murky. There's no sense of judgment. No ability to see danger or control over your actions.

I still haven't spoken when Avery walks over to me, straddling my lap.

"Hey," she murmurs quietly, grabbing my face in between her hands. "You've got this."

I find myself searching her eyes, quickly registering her words.

Control. You've still got control.

Placing my hands on her waist, I don't bother to speak because truthfully, she can already hear me—read me like a fucking book.

There's a silent conversation passing between us—Avery knowing my true reaction buried deep, and helping me stay grounded, and me, promising that no one will dare lay a finger on her and I'll protect her with my life.

Grey and Theo stay back and watch our exchange quietly, but incredulously there's nothing awkward about it.

Nor do I feel threatened by them witnessing my mental recalibration.

There used to be a time that I'd probably ensure their silence for viewing what could only be considered a vulnerable moment.

But despite my best instincts and everything that drives and embodies me , these three broke through those walls. We're family now—connected and founded by death. Just like Cirque des Morts .

Except where Cirque des Morts is my greatest creation, the weapon that will bring down Alexander Dale once and for all, this right here, this is my biggest achievement.

This is my family.

"We'll kill anyone that touches you, mon petit feu."

Avery's eyes sparkle. "You better not have just called me a little docile sheep or anything like that or we're going to have a problem, Demon Boy."

I chuckle quietly, lifting her shirt up. "The only problem I have right now is that I'm not buried inside you, Avery."

She shivers as I drag my fingers up her sides, but when something that wasn't there before catches my attention, I pause. "You have a new tattoo," I remark in surprise, tracing the black ink on her ribcage .

Grey moves closer, curious to see, but Theo stands in place, clearly her partner in crime.

"I do," Avery breathes out, still quivering slightly. "Do you want to know what it means?"

I nod, though it's fairly obvious what it is on a simple level. The significance on the other hand is still a mystery.

Avery places her hand over mine, flattening my palm against her skin. "It's your heartbeat, Damon," she says softly. "Taken the day we got married while you were fighting to come back to me."

To me…

Not to us or Lilydale . Not even the society. But to her—my wife.