Page 13 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)

Chapter six

Ashia

I giggle as he helps me down on shaky legs, but as I move off of the desk, I feel my stomach pull.

The pain radiating outward like the aftermath of a punch.

He was right, we probably should have waited, but oh my God, it was so worth it.

The stars are still strobing faintly, and my body feels so languid that I could probably fall asleep right here on the floor, regardless of the pain.

I keep my composure and grit my teeth to hide it from him, though I can tell by his crestfallen appearance and concerned eyes that he noticed.

“Fuck. Did I hurt you?” he asks in a quiet panic.

“No. No, I’m okay.” I pat his chest to try and reassure him, but when I can see that it doesn’t work, I deter the conversation. “You said what we want is on the second floor?” He shakes his head.

“We don’t have to do that now. We can go.” He starts to pull my hand, but I stop him, squeezing it gently and holding him there.

“Damien, we’re already here, and Tyler and DJ are doing what they’re supposed to do. Let’s do this quickly and get back. Okay?” I faintly pull his hand as I start to walk towards the door, watching the defeated look on his face take its place.

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close before opening the door and poking his head out, quickly looking in both directions of the hallway before leading me out.

We veer left, following the rest of the hallway until we come across a staircase that’s much smaller, and not quite as opulent as the one in the ballroom.

He grabs my hand and ushers me up the stairs, looking tense and on high alert as we move quietly.

Though, he’s sure to keep his pace slow and manageable for me, looking back at me every couple of seconds to ensure I'm alright.

I can see the doubt in his eyes, the worry that floods them, but I can’t allow my recovery to hinder the mission.

He would drag me out of here in a heartbeat if I said I wanted to leave, but this is a great opportunity to prove that I can be what he needs me to be.

I want to show him that no part of who he is scares me anymore and place myself at his side, standing tall and prepared. I can’t mess this up.

Once we reach the top of the stairs, he holds his other hand up with the palm facing out, signaling for me to stop.

I comply, of course, knowing that this is not the right time for overconfidence or defiance.

His stance is completely still, but focused, as he takes a moment to deep dive into his senses and conjure possible scenarios in his head .

He turns to me and stills for only a moment, allowing our gazes and undeniable connection to linger.

Then, he runs his hand up my thigh in one fluid, teasing motion, until he’s pulling my small knife free of its sheath and holding it out beside us to look in its reflection.

I’m amazed by his ability to adapt, and how quickly he thinks.

That’s just one of the things that makes him so damn hot and dangerous.

So confident, calm, and collected. He’s a death that no one would ever see coming.

When I lift my head up and peek over his shoulder to see for myself, there is a perfect view of one lone member of security standing by one of the furthest doors in this hall.

Considering that is the only room that is guarded?

I'm assuming that’s the one we want, and as Damien’s stare shifts into a more determined glare, I know he’s already come up with a plan.

My hands start to tingle, and I can feel the anticipation grow in my stomach.

I’m not sure what he’ll do, but I try to remain focused, knowing that I’ll have to adapt quickly and go along with whatever scenario plays out.

Acting swiftly, he pulls his tie clip free of the dangling fabric and throws it to the opposite end of the hallway.

The small chip of metal clinks against the hard floor with a small chirp, and then he moves quickly to place my knife back in its cover, hovering over me like a God in command as he uses his arm to lead me back against the wall, pressing his toned limb against me to direct me.

I follow his subtle instructions, making sure that I’m concealed as the guard’s footsteps grow louder, and clearly move in our direction.

While my heart is pounding in my chest, Damien seems as stoic as ever, breathing so steadily and even that it spreads to me like a disease, affecting me instantly and calming my racing pulse.

Before I can even see the guard come into view, Damien springs into action at a startling pace, lunging for him.

He wraps his arm around the man’s neck and squeezes tight.

As the man gasps and grunts, he tries to reach back and hit Damien in any way he can, but Damien is stronger and tightens his hold on the guard’s windpipe.

His face begins to turn red, brightening every second until it matches the color of my dress.

Though he continues to fight back, I can tell that Damien is working hard to contain him.

His teeth are gritted, and I watch as that metaphorical veil of darkness cascades over him, the resurfaced aura manifesting like a shadow and covering him as a second skin, moving and contorting to every flinch or twitch from Damien’s muscles.

As the guard’s struggle becomes more apparent, I watch as he fumbles for his pocket, clearly fishing for his weapon as Damien takes him to the ground.

The same dread I felt when we were first attacked settles over my chest, instantly throwing me into the deep end of desperation and forcing me into motion.

Moving off of pure instinct, I pull my knife back out and lean on the stairs to slide it across the floor to him, almost cringing at the sound of steel scratching against the marble floor the moment I release it.

He expertly reaches out and grabs it, only to use that distance as momentum to jab it into the guard’s neck.

Wasting no time, he yanks it out and sinks the blade in a second time, but into his chest instead—piercing his lung and instantly silencing the man until the life leaves his body .

My mind can’t help but focus on the red rising to the surface of his skin, staining the guard’s pristine white shirt and running down his collar.

Damien must have stabbed him in the right place, because unlike my previous victim, there is no squirting or squelching.

I’m amazed at how subtle it is, just a gentle flow out of the newly opened flood gates with surprising fluidity.

Shoving my intrigue as far down as I can, I take a deep breath and stand up languidly, trying to ignore the subtle pain in my stomach as Damien drags the body into a nearby closet.

I look around for any sign of our actions and remember the sharp clink from before.

So there isn’t any evidence, I walk over and pick up his tie clip, thinking I’ll be done much quicker than him, but I'm mistaken.

His arms surprise me by gripping my elbows delicately and helping me back up.

Again with the old lady assistance?

“Take it easy, baby,” he whispers.

“You just killed a man, and you’re telling me to ‘take it easy’?”

He chuckles softly in response.

“I didn’t get out of the hospital yesterday.” He slides my knife back into its sheath again and lays his hand on the small of my back, leading me away easily as I return the clip to his tie.

We walk down the hallway that now seemingly has no trace of the previous altercation and quietly make our way to the room.

Damien has to pick the lock, but it doesn’t take much before it pops ajar, surprising me again.

I suppose he got enough practice picking the lock to my apartment, but his skillset would point to years of training.

Upon opening the door, we notice that this office is clearly used more than the one downstairs, even in Hugo’s short time in this house.

A laptop sits on top of the large, paper-covered desk, one that definitely does not normally belong in a mansion like this and is clearly older.

The back wall is lined with shelves filled with books, bookends, a few folders, and what looks like older knick-knacks.

It already looks dusty here, like whatever he brought with him carried the remnants of the other places he’s lived, and he’s adding this one to that collection.

Damien appears to look around the room, but instead, he's looking at the floor as he walks around, seemingly choosing where to step carefully. His face is tense and determined, like he’s afraid one of the marble slats will dip and set off a trap at the smallest weight added to it.

“What are you doing?” I murmur.

“They definitely didn’t expect anyone in here, so they didn’t clean.

There are subtle prints from all of the foot traffic here.

It’ll tell me what exactly they’ve been looking at.

” He smirks and whispers back before following the steps over to the shelf.

I can’t help but shake my head at his grin, loving how smoothly he stalks—like a dance with the devil .

I attempt to be helpful and move to the desk to look it over. The laptop, while a newer model, is clearly used often. The keys are worn, with some of the lettering starting to disappear, and as I look at the sides, I see that the USB port is barely bent inward.

“Should we take the laptop?” I ask quietly, and I feel slightly defeated as he shakes his head.

“There’s no way we’d get it out of here unseen.”

“Well, this port looks used, like he pulls something in and out of it all the time. Maybe it’s laying around?”

“I doubt it, baby girl. With all of these people here? If it's out in the open, it’s not useful.” I nod and keep looking, as my gut tells me we need whatever is on this computer. I could be wrong, and it could be filled with nothing but porn, but I'm not sure we're going to find anything else.

While Damien rummages through the shelves, I start looking through the drawers, finding more files, that actually look like site plans and permits, pens, some weird Russian medallion, and proof of sale documents.

I'm about to give up and help Damien look through the shelves, but as I close the drawer, it bumps strangely and doesn’t close all of the way.

I can’t leave it like that, or he’ll know someone was sifting through his desk.

So, I pull it out again and attempt to close it, but it catches for the second time.

Determined to fix it, I place my hand on the wheel track to see if something is blocking it, but then I feel a strange, raised chip in the wood and huff to myself.

Of course, I would break the damn thing when I’m trying to be discreet.

As I go to move it enough to close the drawer, praying to whatever higher power that I don’t break it completely, it pops and clicks, drawing my attention to a now open compartment just below the main surface.

“Damien?” I get his attention, and it’s a fraction of a second before he’s next to me again.

Though I’m not surprised by his urgency to stand by my side at my beck and call, I still shake my head again, practically swooning at how he treats me so tenderly.

I gesture towards the three USB drives in the newly unveiled, hidden box.

“Have I told you that I love you today?” He smirks, and I giggle at his question, because obviously .

I grab the three drives and secure them in my bra, much like I did his earpiece on our way in.

“Damn. Women really do have constant pockets.” I can’t help but laugh, a little louder than I intended, momentarily forgetting that we’re supposed to be stealthy right now.

I move to cover my mouth, but he just chuckles with me and grabs my hand, leading us out of the room and back down to the party.

I feel like we’re a couple of high school kids sneaking around after prom with how playful and light he’s being.

Regardless of us snooping around for information on a deranged, wanted criminal, and him just killing a man about five minutes ago, it’s insane how normal it feels.

How relaxed and calm I am now that we’re joining the rest of the guests and blending back in.

If anyone asks, we were just having some privacy. Or fighting. Maybe both .

The loud, projected voice of Dranan Hugo talks through the speaker system, instantly fraying my nerves once again.

It sounds as if he’s started his presentation already, and I’m anxious.

Did it take too long? Did he notice we were gone?

Are they going to find the body before we can leave?

The paranoia makes my stomach cramp and churn, but I squeeze Damien’s hand and keep it together, knowing that our night is almost over.

As we walk back in, Tyler, a guy who I’m assuming is Tyler’s boyfriend, DJ, Emmett, and Linette are all in the back of the crowd towards the door, like they were waiting for us.

I’m not sure how long Tyler was supposed to distract Dranan, or how much time we were really going to have, but I assume my little jealous stunt messed that up regardless.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Tyler turns and asks Damien, clearly annoyed.

“Well, it depends on when you’re talking about,” Damien replies slyly, and I playfully nudge him as he chuckles.

“You’re missing the whole presentation.” He angrily gestures to the stage.

“Oh, like I give a fuck about that,” Damien quietly retorts.

“Well, you should. You just missed where Hugo announced that Washington State Senator, John Avery, supports his community action plan.” Tyler nudges his head towards the right side of the stage, gesturing to the simpler looking man among Dranan’s close friends tonight.

“What?” Damien jerks his gaze back to the stage and narrows his eyes, visibly caught off guard. He clearly wasn’t expecting such a high official in the government to attend, much less publicly state that he supports someone like Hugo.

“What does that mean?” I ask him quietly.

“That this just got really fucking complicated.” He looks back down at me, and I watch as the worry takes over his face again before turning back to Tyler.

“I’m going to take her home. Take notes and relay back to me.

None of you sign a fucking thing until we figure this out.

” They all agree and focus back on the presentation as we turn to leave.