Page 38 of Echoes

I shrug, not giving a shit. "You're welcome to find out. I did promise you a venting system. Just try not to push her too far."

Grey snorts. "That's not fair."

"Did you speak to Christopher and Markel today?" I ask, ignoring him.

He nods, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a few pieces of scribbled notes. "Good luck deciphering Markel's handwriting. It's a disaster. As for Christopher—he promptly locked me out of his office."

"Of course he did," I roll my eyes. "Dramatic flare is his style. I'll speak to him myself. I'd love to see him try to lock me out."

Grey laughs warmly. "As powerful as you are, Deadman, I don't think Christopher will open up to you."

"He'll have no choice," I respond casually. "Besides, I'm better at mind games than he is. All that money and education still can't beat me."

"I believe it."

While Christopher is slightly older than me, he didn't pursue the art of mind control early on. He spent too many years flaunting his wealth and getting his dick sucked. Myself on the other hand, my family used to joke that I came out of the womb arguing. By the time I was in elementary school, I'd already learned to switch my emotions off. I knew how to read people—teachers included.

Christopher might think he's intelligent, and while he is, he had to learn the skills from somewhere. And it sure wasn't that so-called prestigious university. No—I know he was obsessed with monitoring me. It's probably why he got into psychiatry in the first place—I was his first ever test subject.

It's just a punch to the gut that he chose to come here of all places. Any chance to try to have one up on me. Still… I don't care if he hasstaffpower. That means absolutely nothing. In the real world, power is demanded, just like respect is earned. I've done both. No matter what he says or does, he will never have power over me. He will never control me.

And that extends toCirque des Morts.

My Circus of the Dead.

That's what we are here—dead.

Dead to society, dead inside. And sometimes, like Hallman,actuallydead.

I'm their fucking leader. And the best thing about us?

You can't fight death. It's inevitable.

Now, I just need to figure out what to do with Grey. I may have been wrong with my initial observation. This whole mess with Avery is rocking the boat. I thought if I kept them apart, it would be easier for him. Apparently, I was wrong.

Every time he has anything to do with her, he's a loose cannon—destroying everything in his path. But with her… he's a nuclear weapon.

Except, she had to go and fuck everything up. We could have made this work, but she dragged Ashwood into the mix. Now, I'm stuck trying to control a rogue missile while dealing with Arthur's bullshit.

But, all that aside, Grey is one of the only people I genuinely tolerate. I care about him, which is more than I can say about most other people.

I know there's a fine line here. We cross it all the time. But now, I have to decide whether or not I can allow such calamity into my business. Not just for the sake of keeping things calm, but also for the sake of Grey. He's never doubted me—never crossed me. And despitemyfeelingsabout Avery, I perhaps owe it to him to pull back on the reins.

For some clusterfuck of a reason, he cares about her.

It's bad—I know it, he knows it. But still, he wants her. And I can't have him distracted, stalking after her just to catch a glimpse or start a fight.

Maybe I need to kill Ashwood. Or at the very least, remove him from the equation.

Something tells me that would also backfire. It would create a ripple effect—anything I do to Avery, will in turn set Grey off… which leads right back to my original problem.

There's only one real solution here.

And I fucking hate it.

"Christopher," I greet coldly. "So generous of you to make time for me."

He looks up from his desk, a bored expression on his face. He hides his surprise well, but I can see it in his eyes.

---