Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Avery

Bed never felt so good.

I had finally made it to the end of the day, showered, and was now curled up on my hard, kind-of-itchy mattress.

By the time Theo and I had finished in the library, it was nearly the end of free time. He stopped pushing for the real reason why I was trying to stay away, but his words still replayed in my mind.

"Whatever it is, I promise that I'm the bigger threat."

I don't know how I feel about it. Of course, I don't want to stay away from him. But I'm terrified of the consequences. I know he said he's the bigger threat, but we don't have the power here. Hell, we don't have anything.

It was a momentary lapse in judgment, but I needed him.

I can't do this alone.

Lilydale is already an isolated place. The only reason I've survived this long is because of the people I've met here—even if I do deserve the punishment for my actions.

Sleep starts to drift over me, every single muscle aching as I fade into black. I'm nearly out when a small click reaches my ears. It's so faint that for a split second, I convince myself I was imagining it, until I hear the familiar creak of my door opening.

My eyes shoot open instantly. Peering through the dark, I spot a figure step into my room. My heart beats rapidly, with a small fraction of hope, as I try to pinpoint recognizable features.

There's only a few people who can do that…

"Avery," a voice draws out through the darkness.

I groan, shoving my face into my pillow. "Oh, God."

"Not God," he laughs. "The Devil."

"What do you want now, Damon?"

He laughs quietly to himself, his darkened frame leaning against the wall opposite me. "Are you trying to sleep?"

"It would be nice," I grumble, frustrated that I can't seem to catch a break.

"Too bad I'm not nice," Damon says. "Your attendance is required tomorrow."

I sit up in bed, crossing my legs under my body. Why?"

"Because I said so," he replies simply. "Despite your... indiscretions ... the society still requires you to contribute for now. I'll send someone to collect you tomorrow."

"Grey?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Damon scoffs. "I don't think so. He wants nothing to do with you. Your contact with him will be minimal at most. Besides, no point being greedy. You're obviously still getting your fill from other sources."

The way he says it confidently, the knowingness behind his tone, I already know that he's referring to me and Theo today. He knows everything, after all.

"It's nothing to do with that," I mutter, trying to regain confidence. "I care greatly about Grey."

"How stupid of you."

"We might be done, but that won't change how I feel," I shoot back. "So, whatever sick comments you want to make, you can keep them to yourself. If he wants nothing to do with me, fine. But I still care about him."

Damon's footsteps echo around my room, and I swallow hard, knowing he's getting closer to the bed. "You dug your grave, Avery. Now you can be buried in it. I only say things once. I warned you not to fuck with him, and you didn't listen. So now you pay the price."

"And serve you?" I huff in disgust. "I'll pass, thanks."

"I only allow people of worth to serve me. You do not fit that criteria. However, do not mistake my mercy for weakness. I can end you— and your little boyfriend —whenever I like. But I'm more interested in your relationship with Arthur. Therefore, you're temporarily useful to the society."

I fall silent, shocked that he knows about my little conditions. But the real question is... how much does he know?

Damon continues. "If you try to cross me, I will make you regret it. I don't need you. You're being given mercy that most will never see. But make no mistake—this is for my benefit, not yours. If you're smart, you'll play along."

"And if I'm not?" I reply bluntly.

He laughs, a sinister threat lurking in his tone. "I'll nail your casket shut myself."

"Fine," I snap back. "But if it's for the greater good of the society , know that I'm doing this for Grey, not for you."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Clearly, it's not you. Now, if you'll please leave, I'd like to get a few hours rest."

Damon laughs under his breath, footsteps slowly heading toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Avery."

Somehow, I manage to get a little rest. But like yesterday, I'm awoken by a guard, storming into my room.

As he grabs me from the bed, I'm still exhausted and drained, but thankfully, not as much as yesterday.

We bypass the bathrooms this time, and I say a silent prayer. But unfortunately I speak too soon, finding myself in the communal toilets, a brush being shoved into my hands.

I resist the urge to throw it in disgust, but reluctantly, do as I'm told and start scrubbing toilets. When we're finished there, I'm forced to clean the male urinals too, grumbling to myself at how putrid men are. You'd think after two decades they would know how to aim.

My hands are still red, but at least I can separate them from the bleach, giving them a good wash when I'm done before breakfast.

I won't let them break me.

If they think cleaning some bathrooms and toilets will make me snap, they are dead wrong.

At breakfast, I decide to defy them all, sending a big fuck you to the higher ups, sitting across from Theo. I can feel eyes on me, but it's just the other patients. It's normal—I'm used to the stares now.

The guards watch carefully too, and I know they are going to report back to Whittingham—but let them.

For the most part, we eat in silence, but I can see Theo's more relaxed today. He seems happy that I'm sitting there, and when the bell rings, I'm promptly escorted off to Dr. Smith's office.

The appointment goes slowly. I answer the bare minimum, but he doesn't seem surprised. Dr. Smith relays that he passed on my psych assessment results to Mr. Whittingham and I can only nod in response.

My head is elsewhere today.

A quick stop at Dr. Markel's for some ointment, followed by more history lessons, then free time. Theo and I hang out in the empty room where we tattooed each other, and make small talk. If he's suspicious of my behavior today, he doesn't call me out on it. And thankfully, he doesn't press for information again.

I spot Grey lurking around during free time, walking the halls, but he ignores me, sticking close to Damon. The latter gives me a knowing look when we head back to the hall after free time, and I keep myself calm and composed.

Fuck you, Demon Boy.

The rest of the afternoon passes by, and after dinner and showers I wait on my bed, cross-legged. I have no idea what time I'm going to be summoned , but I don't bother to try to sleep.

Finally, when everything falls quiet outside as people go to sleep, I hear footsteps stop in front of my door.

I stand up, watching as the door swings open. I glance at the familiar face, giving him a small nod. Byrone gestures for me to follow him with two fingers without muttering a single word, and I follow him to the library like old times. Except… I'm missing a crucial part of the routine.

As we enter, I'm greeted with the usual setup. The curtains drape over the ends of the aisles, closing off the book shelves. The smell of freshly prepared food hits my senses, and I can already see a bunch of people sitting at the tables which have been pushed together to make one long surface.

Damon is sitting at the head of the table on his throne of invisible thorns, casually talking to Grey as we approach. They both look up, giving me a hardened glance before I wait for instructions.

"Sit next to Jillian," Damon directs bored, waving me off with his hand.

My eyes find Jillian's and she gives me a tight smile, putting me slightly at ease. As I round the table, I have to pass Grey, and it's like a shock of electricity between us.

Sitting down, I do my best to ignore the burning desire to look over. I focus on the table of food in the corner, gazing over the fresh fruit, warm little finger foods, and various beverages.

More people arrive, filling the empty spaces at the table, until finally, we're a full house.

"Good Evening," Damon starts, leaning back into his chair. "I appreciate you all attending on such short notice. As you are aware, we have some pressing matters to discuss."

A handful of people nod casually, the room silent except for Damon's deep voice.

"While this evening is all about business, you will note that we've set up the private rooms for your enjoyment. Before we begin, Grey will fill you in on the information you have been waiting for."

I can't help it. My gaze snaps down the table to him at the mention of his name, heart palpitating when we lock eyes for a brief second. He looks away quickly, smiling sweetly at everyone.

"Samuel Hallman's membership has been permanently revoked due to his unfortunate death. While I'm sure some of you will miss the floppy fucker, rest assured that his death wasn't in vain."

A few quiet laughs echo around the table and I shift awkwardly. It's obvious that he wasn't well loved, but if he was a member of the society, he must have meant something to them.

Or, at least, had some quality contributions.

Everyone here is worth something to Damon. While I can't understand what Sam's appeal was, it's obvious he was needed for Damon's grand plans.

"Jillian was able to confirm that Operation Clown has been a success. We've gained control of the camera feeds in the facility and currently, the Lilydale staff have not been able to get it back. At present, we're feeding them what we want. This includes the footage from Hallman's room which featured the night of his demise."

Some people look surprised, which makes me feel a little better. At least I'm not the only one that this is news too.

"So, it's been ruled as suicide?" Byrone asks casually.

Damon nods. "Yes. And as you can see, Andy Jemison has taken Hallman's place in Cirque des Morts."

A few gazes land on a new figure at the end of the table. I look him over carefully, eyes lingering on the long scar down his left cheek. His dark brown eyes are on Damon, his pitch-black hair messy and unkempt. He nods, giving everyone a little wave.

"But this was already in motion before his death, correct?" someone asks. "Due to his indiscretions."

"Correct," Damon confirms. "And his girlfriend has been permanently banned. However, I don't suspect her to be a problem from here on out."

Vivian?

I feel eyes burning on me and I turn my head, finding Grey watching me carefully. Even though we aren't speaking, I know our minds are on the same track. I wonder if they know that Vivian tried to kill herself. They would have to—they know everything.

"We anticipate that the Lilydale board will replace Hallman shortly. Any opportunity to get more money in the door," Grey says, not looking away.

My eyes shift to Damon as he watches me carefully. I look away from both of them, staring at the table.

"Moving on to Operation Ringmaster," Damon continues. "Now that Jemison is on board, we will be pushing ahead. Phase one was successful, so now we are confident we are able to move to phase two."

A few people make notes on paper and I suddenly feel out of place again. I guess it's a 'you'll know if you know' situation, so I don't dare ask for information. I'm still not even quite sure why I'm here exactly, but something tells me it will become apparent soon.

"Jemison," Grey directs. "I will speak to you tomorrow about your tasks. Leighton will also be your contact."

"Rightio," Andy answers coolly. "And we established the issues with the files I was told about?"

Damon looks at me, leaning forward on his hands. A dark smile crosses his face, making me hold my breath.

"Yes. While we are aware that Christopher provided the society with the incorrect key, the files were nonetheless broken into. Upon review of Jillian's footage, we were able to ascertain that Capello leaked the file."

My eyes widen. "What?" I blurt out, causing everyone to look at me. "Vivian was the one who stole my file?"