Page 47 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

Throwing my cell to the side of the bed, I drop down to my back, bouncing slightly on the soft comforter. Blinking slowly, I decide to close my eyes for a moment to gather my wits before heading out to the living room to gather the answers I need.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I know, Bishop is standing over me with a small smile, brushing a hand over my shoulder to wake me. "Hey, sleepy head. Thought I'd check on you and found you sleeping. Still want those answers? Or do you want to rest some more?"

Blinking my eyes, I turn my head in search of a clock. Already knowing what I'm doing, Bishop holds his hands out for me to take and tells me, "You haven't been asleep long. Only about an hour. We thought you were still on the phone, but then Aleric realized it was too quiet in here."

Snorting, I slip my hands into his much larger ones, letting him hoist me up until I'm sitting upright. I instantly note the difference between his hand and Micah’s, Bishop’s being rougher and much larger than his brother’s. I stretch my back out and, with a raspy mumble, admit, "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just preparing to grill you three for answers."

"Must have been exhausting work," Bishop teases, still holding my hands. Funnily enough, I don't feel the urge to pull them away, finding the heat that's wafting off his skin soothing. It's so comforting that it washes my worries away like water down a drain, leaving me all warm and tingly on the inside.

Huffing out a laugh, I roll my eyes and nod. "Guess so."

The man offers me a grin, flashing perfectly straight white teeth in the process and sending my heart into a frenzy. I'm so distracted by his smile that I completely miss what he says, his chuckles drawing me back to the present.

"Hm? What did you say?" I ask, feeling my cheeks warm embarrassingly.

Still grinning, he says, "I asked if you needed help to get back to the living room."

What? Why would I need- Oh, yeah. My legs are burnt to hell. Damn it.

With a grimace, I hesitantly nod. "Help would be nice. I'd rather not fall flat on my face when I have someone willing to offer assistance."

Bishop outright laughs, scooping me up without further words passing between us. When a surprised squeak escapes my parted lips, I know I flush beet red and roll my eyes at myself. Bishop sends me a questioning look, and I'm forced to explain. "Sorry. Didn't expect to be carried. You caught me by surprise."

I wrap my arm around his neck, getting comfier in his hold, and I almost lean my head on his shoulders before I think twice about that desire. The last thing I need is to get cozy with the guys who have too many secrets for me to count.

Without another word, Bishop easily carries me to the living room where Micah and Aleric already sit, watching the television. The moment they see us, Aleric switches the TV off and Micah turns his beautiful smile on me. Why the hell do they have such pretty smiles? And handsome faces? And, from what I've gathered, really great personalities.

It's a damn shame they all decided to lie to me.

As that thought runs through my mind, Bishop lowers me to the couch beside Micah. I steel my spine and look them all over, finding them watching me carefully and with varying levels of worry. Strangely enough, it's Aleric who's looking the most concerned. They all should be, because I'm about to play the hardest game of twenty questions I've ever played in all of my life.

Chapter 25

Willow

“Who are you?” I ask without preamble, deciding to get this shit show rolling. Might as well rip the band-aid off right away, get the sting over with and all that.

Already, the three of them look wicked uncomfortable, shuffling in their seats and avoiding eye contact.

Huffing, I cross my leg over the other without really thinking about my healing wounds and wrap my arms over my chest. "If you guys can't even answer the first question, this is going to be a waste of time, don't you think? How about I tell you all what I already know? Then you can fill in any gaps that you can."

"That would probably be wiser," Bishop agrees, nodding and leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees as he clasps his hands together to prop them under his chin.

Micah nods and taps my leg, keeping his hand on my knee like he can't help himself. Fuck me sideways if butterflies don't erupt in my stomach, that feeling of familiarity between us flaring to life. Seriously, what even is that? There has to be an explanation for that. Maybe I can throw it into my line of questioning later if I find it in myself not to be embarrassed to even ask. I mean, how weird will that be? Asking these guys if they're feeling the same things I've been feeling? Maybe I should ask when I've had a few drinks instead.

Aleric watches me closely, his green eyes so piercing that I almost squirm in my seat. I keep eye contact, waiting for him to agree before looking away. Slowly, he finally nods, sliding to the edge of his seat much like Bishop. The only one who looks relaxed now is Micah.

"Alright. So, the guy with the silvery black hair? I'm clearly related to him somehow," I start, staring them down. Once again, they tense and start looking anywhere other than at me. "Well, that answers that. So he's related. Okay. I'm guessing you won't tell me who he is if I ask outright?"

My answer is three headshakes and two mumbles of 'no.' Micah taps my leg in apology, but I ignore it, deciding to get it all out there before I get frustrated. No point getting pissed from the get go.

"Fine. Moving on then," I declare, watching their shoulders sag with an eyebrow raise. Yeah, this conversation is going to get old real fucking fast. "I'm something other than... human. I don't know what, but I know it's dangerous since I managed to kill people."

I get affirmative nods, though none of them offer to tell me what I am or why I'm dangerous. They're clearly letting me steer this train with no intention of lying on the tracks. Of course they're not going to utter a word when it could land them in trouble. That's fine. I'll just have to drag it out of them.

"Okay. I'm dangerous because I can't control whatever it is. I'm dangerous because whatever I am is powerful,toopowerful, and I'm only just... what was the word used? Transitioning?" I ask, a little confused by that part.

Three heads snap in my direction, varying frowns of startled confusion plastered on all three gorgeously handsome faces. Rolling my eyes, I grouch, "If you're going to talk about someone while they're only a room away, might I suggest only doing so when you’re certain they're passed out or can't hear the conversation at all?"

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