Chapter 13 Christopher doesn't appear surprised to see me when I darken his proverbial doorstep. But he does shoot me an annoyed glance, eyes darting to the patient across from him. 'I'm happy to wait,' I say casually, leaning against the doorframe. 'Bit late in the day for professional appointments, isn't it?' To be fair, it's not all that much of a shock. After the latest events, the staff will be run off their feet consoling patients. At least, that's what they will be telling themselves. The meek woman in the guest chair jumps at the sight of me, her timid frame almost curling into itself. She has nothing to fear or worry about though. I know all about Charity Williams. Nothing more than the usual charity case that is sent to Lilydale, she's been here for nearly a year. Like Avery, Charity suffered a lot of abuse by parental figures until one day she snapped, blowing someone's head off in the middle of the street. But unlike my little killer, this victim of society is just apprehensive in general. There's no spark or fire that harbors like it does within Avery. No anger or need to prove herself. She's just, by medical standards, introverted and broken in their eyes for lack of a better word. There's nothing wrong with being seen as broken. I love being underestimated, and if Dr. Smith is worth his paycheck, he'll be able to make her see that-learn her worth. As with most patients here, Charity is too lost to the system, eaten alive by guilt and stuck in a cycle that no one is trying to help pull her from. They don't believe anything anyone says about them being good, but she will believe that I'm the danger that everyone warns about. 'You know as well as I do why we're still hosting sessions this late in the afternoon,' Christopher mutters firmly. 'Wait outside. I'll be finished in ten minutes.' Turning my attention to Charity, I give her a friendly smile. She recoils still, eyes blown wide with fear. 'No need to tremble, Charity. I won't bite.' 'Grey!' 'Alright,' I laugh, holding my hands up in defeat. 'I'll be outside.' I deliberately leave the door open when I step into the hallway, leaning against the adjacent wall. Christopher stalks over and slams it closed to my face with a glowering look. Amused, I do wait as promised. It gives me time to survey the hallway, noting the blood stains on the walls and floor. I wonder which poor sucker had to clean up our mess. After the allotted ten minutes have passed, true to his word, Christopher walks Charity out. She gives me another shy glance before following Connor. 'You can't just be walking around like this,' Christopher scolds, beckoning me into his office. 'Of course I can.' Taking the guest seat, I spread out, resting my arms along the top of the chair. Christopher sits at his desk, running his hand through his hair. 'Damon will be back tomorrow,' he says suddenly. 'Stanley briefed me.' 'And how is dear Dr. Markel?' I ask. 'Ready to take on Damon's care?' An annoyed glance comes my way, the two of us well aware that Damon won't be letting Markel touch him, even with a ten foot pole. According to Avery, it's also unlikely that Damon will take any drugs offered by the old bat. Which means we're going to have a very cranky Deadman on our ass. I don't blame him though. I wouldn't take the drugs either after what happened to Avery. Arthur would jump at the chance to drug any of us. 'Funny,' comes the blunt reply. 'Anyway, get to the point, Grey. What do you want?' 'Aww, trying to rush me? And here I thought you loved my company.' Christopher cocks an eyebrow. 'You have three seconds.' 'Fine,' I sigh dramatically. 'I take it you and Elsher confer at times?' Even the mere mention of that cunt makes my blood boil. He's lucky he's still breathing. I can't help but notice that I never seem to be able to catch him alone. Always with a guard or storming off in the opposite direction when I approach. But that's okay-I love to hunt. He can only run for so long before I catch him. 'Not as much as we should be,' Christopher informs me. 'Even less now since my so-called termination.' 'Well, that's about to change,' I tell him. 'I need you to find out whether or not the missing patients signed those forms. Avery tried to come ask you but you weren't here.' I leave my sentence there, letting him fill in the blanks. When his face scrunches up painfully, I get my answer. Christopher suspects they are experimenting on them too. 'They have been cornering patients,' he says quietly. 'One on one, seeking signatures still.' 'What?' I snap. 'Did you not think to perhaps relay this information?' Christopher's eyes shoot up. 'Watch your tone, Grey. I'm already on the outs because of you and frankly, not everything concerns you.' I nod my head toward the canister on his desk. 'I'll jam that letter opener through your eye, Christopher. It works well. Ask the guard that caught Avery and I in Arthur's office. Oh, wait. You can't-he's dead.' Alarm crosses his face. 'Stop killing people,' he orders. 'I don't take demands from you, Christopher,' I say delightfully. 'You're not my father-who I also killed. And you might have the same blood, but you're not Damon either.' 'Normal people don't go around murdering others.' 'Thank fuck I'm not normal then.' The two of us enter into a stare off. I refuse to give in, just flashing my teeth as I grin at him. Finally, he relents, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh. 'I'll see what I can find out. But be on guard. Now that Damon is en route to return...' 'Arthur and Alexander will be getting ready to strike,' I finish confidently. 'I'm aware of this, Christopher. Give me a little credit.' He nods. 'Unfortunately, I'm not sure where the patients are.' 'Yes, you do,' I point out. 'We all know where they are and with whom. But the assholes have upgraded the system to ensure we can't rescue them short of knocking walls down.' 'This was never meant to happen,' he mutters quietly, and it's almost like a statement to himself. This time, I raise my eyebrow. 'Really? Did you really think that Alexander had a personality change and would genuinely want to help people? Be smart about this, Christopher. Your whole career has been a sham. You were just a pawn in his game-someone to use for his benefit.' I half-expect him to argue, to disagree, but he doesn't. Disappointment shines back at me, and for a brief moment, I feel a little sorry for the bastard. 'You're right,' he says, defeatedly. 'That doesn't change what's happening.' 'It doesn't. But you can't just sit back and let them pull this bullshit. Track down those forms and see what you can find out about Arthur's beloved extra-access card. We suspect that it's the key to getting downstairs. Teddy used to have a copy too.' Christopher nods slowly, voice gaining traction again. 'Alright. Leave it with me.' 'Put it in harder,' I growl. 'Thrust it in. Put your damn back into it.' 'I'm fucking trying,' Theo snaps. 'Why don't you do something instead of standing there and attempting to look pretty? By the way, it's not working.' I grin. 'That's because I'm already fucking gorgeous, brother-in-law. Even you aren't immune to my charms.' Theo stops, lifting the blade to my neck. 'Want to make a bet? I can give you another little scar.' My eyes dance in amusement, the cold blade pushing against my throat. Anyone else in this situation would be terrified. But me? This shit is the stuff dreams are made of. Theo doesn't look away, the two of us staring straight at each other with matching expressions. I raise my eyebrows, wiggling them. 'Come on then. I'm waiting. Impale me on your knife.' 'You sick fuck,' he grumbles, pulling it away and jamming it into the side of the access pad again. 'Says the man who fucked Avery in a mortuary cabinet,' I tease. 'Didn't know necrophilia was your thing.' Theo continues messing with the metal access pad, attempting to find weakness in the structure. 'I'd fuck Avery on your dead body.' 'If she's naked, I'd die a happy man.' I start working on the other side, annoyed when it doesn't give. We're at the door near the stairwell, sussing out the new access pad in closer detail. Both of us have discovered that punching it is fruitless, so we've resorted to the old faithful of trying to rip the cords out. Except, the metal is practically fused to the hard walls. There's an extra layer of steel securing the panel to the reinforced concrete walls to protect the box. The screws affixing it are tiny, making it near impossible to get the tips of our blades into. 'Maybe we just need to kick the door down,' Theo suggests, gripping his handle tightly. 'Been there, tried it,' I murmur, remembering how much it sucked trying to break through the door in my room. 'Blowtorch?' 'Hey,' I drag out. 'That's not a bad idea. Maybe Christopher can sneak us in a blowtorch.' Theo cocks an eyebrow. 'I was joking. Somehow I doubt that it would work.' He's right. Cell phones are one thing but dear old Chris bringing in tools and machinery? Likely to be seen and confiscated by the old cunt known as Arthur since Christopher can barely keep a straight face and act inconspicuous. I toss the knife, the blade reflecting and dazzling in the light as it spins before I catch it in the palm of my hand. 'We'll just have to find a new Plan C if we can't get hold of an access card.' 'We just gut Whittingham and steal his card?' 'I like the way you think,' I grin at him. The more I get to know Theo, the more I start to wonder why I ever really hated him. I mean, sure, there was the little issue of him stealing Avery from me, but I guess we can say with confidence that she has a type and perhaps she knew on some level we'd be good friends. Mentally deranged, psychotic, unhinged. Even Damon fits into the category. Although I still often consider killing Theo for the thrill of it, I don't think I can imagine life without him now. He's the violent brother I never had-slipping in easily with our little group of blood-loving lunatics. Straightening up, Theo narrows his eyes at me. 'What? You have that stupid look on your face.' 'Just remembering all the sweet times I wanted to kill you,' I say lovingly. 'Still do.' 'The feeling's mutual, asshole,' he replies, but lacking the usual venom. I open up my arms, palms as wide as the grin on my face. 'Hug?' 'Fuck off.' 'I love you too,' I snort, tossing my arm toward him and jabbing him with the tip of my knife. Theo looks down slowly at the blade resting into his shoulder, lips tugging into an amused smirk. See-brothermates. Not quite soulmates, but something along those lines. 'Remove your damn hand before I give you a rectal massage with it.' 'With the knife or my own hand?' 'Take your pick.' Flipping it back toward my chest, I catch the blade in my palm, enjoying the small sting it gives as it threatens to pierce my skin. I pocket it, motioning that our work is done for now. 'Come on, little psycho. Let's go find our girl and tell her the good news about Damon.'