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Damon
Her tiny, wringable neck bobs as she swallows hard. It's laughable, watching her feign confidence—trying to hide her fear.
Props to her. It's almost believable except her arms and legs are trembling ever so slightly as I tower above her. Still, she surprises me from time to time. Especially when she had the nerve to slap me across the face.
I see her eyes flash indignantly, her mind finally catching up to the situation. I wait, knowing something is coming.
"It doesn't matter," she says firmly. "I'll keep out of your way."
I survey her carefully, almost surprised at her resignation. It's as if she's accepted everything entirely, willing to overlook my so-calledbetrayal.
"Will you?" I ask casually.
Avery looks up, finding my face. "Yes."
"Hm." I pretend to think, fingers tapping on the table. "That doesn't work for me."
"What?" she sputters out. "Why not?"
I slowly walk toward her, noticing the way her legs fight the urge to scramble away. When I'm within reaching distance to her, I lift her chin with my pointer finger, tilting her face up.
"Because I'm not done with you yet."
Surprise and fear crosses her face, making my lips twitch in amusement. I love seeing the effect I have on people. Who needs violence to control people when you can control their minds and emotions? That's the thing about people here—Avery, especially—they are not in control of their emotions. They think that they are, but if that were the case, they never would have set foot inside Lilydale.
Emotions are useless.
Unless, of course, you have perfect control over them. If you can manipulate them, you can do anything. It's why I don't fear anything—why I don't feel sadness. It's weak, pathetic… some emotions do not deserve recognition. I don't care if we're supposed to behuman—some make us vulnerable, and the second that happens, you give people the opportunity to control you.
Which is why I love to control.
Sure, I could lay hands on people. But eventually, we have the mental power to block out physical pain. Psychologically being in charge? That's much harder to fight. Plus, if we need to spill blood, I have Grey for that.
"Not done? What do you mean 'not done'?" Avery asks hesitantly.
I tilt my head to the side innocently, holding her gaze. "Despite everything, I still have use for you for now. But you'll only deal with me."
Her eyebrows crease together, my words processing through her fragile little mind. Yes—she won't be speaking with Grey. What I need her for is irrelevant to whatever sick little relationship they have. He can find new pussy to fuck with—preferably one that won't send him into a deadly spiral. I need him in control, focused.
"I really don't want to."
"I really don't give a fuck."
Avery's eyes gather tears, but she clenches her jaw, fighting back the urge to let them fall.
"And if I refuse? Are you just going to frame me again? Kill me? I don't care anymore, Damon. If you're going to do something, just do it."
I laugh, her small body jumping. "Oh, Avery. I wouldn't give you death. It's obvious you would welcome it. No, you'll work for me. You can refuse if you want, but it won't save you."
"Fuck you, Demon Boy," she suddenly spits out. My hand snaps down to her neck, my fingers wrapping around her skin.
"Don't test me," I warn her. "I'm not above getting my hands dirty. I'll subject you to a fate worse than death. Just consider this a courtesy call. I'll be in touch. Now, if you'll kindly leave the library, I think you'll find Connor waiting for you."
I release her neck with a shove. She stumbles slightly, regaining her footing. A quick glare is sent my way before she turns, storming out of the library. I watch her leave, the door swinging closed behind her, before it opens again less than a minute later.
"Grey," I greet coolly, watching as he walks toward me with his hands in his pockets. "I wasn't expecting to see you until this afternoon."
"What was that about?" he asks suspiciously.
