CHAPTER 113: CHAPTER 113: THE ALLIES

GRAYSON’S BODY WENT RIGID, every muscle coiling like a predator preparing to strike.

The energy radiating from him intensified, making the air crackle with barely contained violence.

Mailah could feel it against her skin like static electricity, raising goosebumps along her arms.

"Move aside," Grayson said, his voice deadly quiet. "We’re leaving."

"Are you?" Carson’s perpetual smirk widened, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t match his casual tone. "And here I thought you might want to say goodbye before your dramatic exit."

"Carson," Grayson’s voice dropped to a growl that made even Mailah’s spine stiffen. "Elin told us about the collective. About the meetings. About you being there."

The accusation hung in the air like a blade, and for once, Carson’s smile faltered.

Behind him, Lucson and Mason exchanged glances that Mailah couldn’t quite decipher.

"Ah," Carson said softly. "That."

"Yes, that." Grayson took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists. "So before you try to stop us from leaving, you should know I’m not in the mood for games. Not tonight."

"Stop you?" Lucson’s laugh was sharp and unexpected. "Brother, you’ve misread the situation entirely."

Mailah blinked, confusion cutting through her fear.

The three brothers didn’t look like they were preparing for a fight. If anything, they looked... concerned? Was that even possible for demons who seemed to delight in chaos and manipulation?

"Then enlighten me," Grayson said, though his defensive posture didn’t relax an inch.

Mason stepped forward, his dark eyes serious in a way Mailah had never seen from him before. "The helicopter is waiting on the rooftop helipad. Our service will take you to the estate. You need to leave. Now."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"I’m sorry," Mailah heard herself say, her voice sounding too loud in the tense quiet. "Did you just say helicopter? As in, there’s a helipad on the roof?"

Carson’s smirk returned, though it seemed more genuine now. "Of course there is. Did you think we’d host an anniversary gathering without providing air transportation options? What kind of manor do you think this is?"

"The kind that apparently comes with more amenities than a five-star hotel," Mailah muttered, then caught herself. "Wait—you’re helping us?"

"Don’t sound so shocked," Lucson said, though there was amusement in his tone. "We are family, after all."

"Family that’s spent centuries trying to manipulate me back into feeding," Grayson countered, his voice still edged with suspicion. "Family that sent a half-succubus to break his abstinence. Why would you help us now?"

"Because," Mason said quietly, "what you did with Varrow—challenging his claim, publicly breaking ranks with supernatural tradition—it sent a message. One that’s going to have consequences."

"Consequences you want us to escape?" Grayson’s eyes narrowed. "Or consequences you want to control from a distance?"

"Both, probably," Carson admitted with characteristic honesty. "But mostly the first one. Varrow isn’t going to let this go, brother. He’s already gathering allies. If you try to leave by conventional routes, he’ll have ambushes set up at every exit. Roads, docks, even the private gates."

"But not the air," Lucson added. "He won’t expect you to use the helipad. Most guests don’t even know it exists."

Mailah looked at Grayson, trying to read his expression. His jaw was tight, his eyes still burning with suspicion, but she could see him calculating, weighing the risks.

Behind them, Elin had gone very still, her breathing shallow with barely contained panic.

"Why should I trust you?" Grayson asked finally. "Any of you?"

The three brothers exchanged another of those silent communications, and then Carson spoke, his voice unusually serious. "Because blood is thicker than water. Even when that blood is demon."

"That’s not an answer," Grayson said flatly.

"It’s the only answer we can give you. Here." Mason’s gaze flicked meaningfully around the corridor. "There are things you don’t know. Things we can’t discuss in a place where walls have ears and shadows have eyes."

"Cryptic warnings and family sentiment," Grayson said. "How reassuring."

"Look," Carson stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "About the collective—yes, I was at that meeting. But not for the reasons you’re assuming."

"Then why?" Mailah asked before Grayson could. "Why would you be there if you weren’t part of it?"

Carson’s eyes met hers, and for once, there was no mockery in them. "Because I needed to know what Varrow was planning. And now that I do, I’m trying to prevent my stubborn brother from walking into a trap."

"He’s telling the truth," Lucson said. "As impossible as that seems coming from him."

"Hey," Carson protested without real heat.

"We don’t have time for this," Mason cut in, his voice carrying an urgency that made Mailah’s pulse quicken. "Every minute you stand here arguing is another minute Varrow has to organize a proper response to what happened. The helicopter is fueled and ready. Our pilot is waiting. All you have to do is take the private elevator and go."

Grayson stood motionless for a long moment, and Mailah could see the war playing out behind his eyes.

Trust versus suspicion. Family versus self-preservation.

The demon who’d spent centuries in isolation versus the man who’d just publicly chosen connection over safety.

Finally, he turned to Mailah. "What do you think?"

The question surprised her. He was asking her opinion? In the middle of a supernatural crisis with his brothers standing right there?

"I think," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "that if they wanted to stop us, they would have done it already. And I think that helicopter sounds a lot better than trying to fight our way out through demons who probably want to see what happens when someone breaks tradition."

Grayson’s lips quirked in what might have been a smile. "Practical as always."

"One of us has to be," she replied, then added more softly, "Besides, your brothers came to find us when they could have just let Varrow handle it. That has to count for something."

"She’s smarter than you deserve," Carson said to Grayson, though there was approval in his tone.

"I’m aware," Grayson replied, then looked back at his brothers. "Fine. We’ll use the helicopter. But if this is a trap—"

"You’ll kill us in creative and painful ways," Lucson finished. "Yes, yes, we know. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the centuries."

"The elevator is at the end of this corridor," Mason said, already moving to lead them. "Third door on the right. It requires a code—7734."

"Creative," Mailah muttered, recognizing the numbers as "hell" upside down on a calculator.

Carson’s laugh was surprised and genuine. "I’m beginning to like her, brother. Much better than the last few wives."

"The last few wives weren’t real," Grayson said quietly, his hand finding Mailah’s and threading their fingers together. "She is."

The simple declaration sent warmth flooding through Mailah’s chest despite the tension of the moment. He’d said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were an immutable truth rather than a romantic sentiment.

They moved as a group down the corridor, the three brothers flanking them like an honor guard.

Or maybe like wardens, Mailah thought, though she pushed the paranoid thought aside. If they’d wanted to imprison them, there were easier ways.

"One more thing," Lucson said as they reached the elevator. "Vivienne knows you’re leaving. She’s the one who suggested the helicopter route."

Grayson paused, his hand hovering over the keypad. "Vivienne helped arrange this?"

"Don’t sound so surprised," Mason said. "She’s our guardian, so she’s not blind to what’s happening in our world. The collective Varrow’s forming—it’s bad for all of us. If it succeeds, it changes the entire dynamic between demons and humans."

"How?" Mailah asked, though part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

"It will be explained in due time," Lucson answered.

Grayson entered the code, and the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime that seemed absurdly mundane given the circumstances. The interior was all brushed steel and mirrors, large enough to comfortably hold a dozen people.

"Go," Mason urged. "The pilot’s name is Chen. He’s been with our family for two decades. He’ll get you home safely."

Grayson stepped into the elevator, pulling Mailah with him. Elin followed, still trembling but managing to stay upright.

As the doors began to close, Grayson looked at his brothers one last time.

"Why?" he asked simply.

The three of them stood in the corridor, looking almost like a Renaissance painting in their formal wear and supernatural beauty. It was Carson who answered, his voice stripped of its usual mockery.

"Because you’re not the only one who’s growing tired."

The doors slid shut, cutting off whatever else he might have said.

The elevator began to rise, smooth and silent, and Mailah felt her ears pop as they ascended.

She looked at Grayson, seeing the tension still coiled in his shoulders, the suspicion that hadn’t fully released its hold.

"Do you believe them?" she asked softly.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "But I believe they believe what they’re saying. Whether that’s the same thing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Blood is thicker than water," Mailah said, repeating Carson’s earlier words. "Do you think that’s true? For demons?"

Grayson’s blue-gray eyes met hers, and in them she saw centuries of complicated history, of betrayals and reconciliations, of family bonds that had been tested and broken and somehow still endured.

"I think," he said slowly, "that family is more complicated than any single saying can capture. For demons or humans."

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened onto the roof.