Page 31 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

"If she's slaughtering humans, that means someone broke in again. We shouldn't have left her there alone. We should have listened to Micah," Aleric growls, echoing the thoughts that are plaguing my mind. The guilt I currently feel for stupidly thinking she would be fine for one night almost consumes me, the feeling pricking my skin like a hundred needles digging into my flesh. It’s an extreme reaction for someone I don’t even know, but… it almost feels like I do. It’s weird and hard to explain, but something about this all doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel exactly… new? I don’t know.

"We won't make another mistake like that again," I tell him with conviction, nodding firmly to cement my proclamation. We certainly won't be making any kind of mistake again, even if that means we have to suction ourselves to the woman we're here to look after. Gesturing to my cell in Aleric's hand, I tell him, "Dial Willow's number."

He does so and hands it over. I put the cell by my ear, and it rings for a sickening amount of time before Willow finally answers. A breath of air leaves me when the call is accepted. "Willow?"

The only sound that can be heard from the other end of the call is ragged breathing.

"Willow? Is that you?" I ask, concerned that someone else might have her cell and we're too late to protect her. Once again, I receive nothing but fast breathing and a whimper. I know the sound of that whimper, so it's definitely Willow on the other end. But why isn't she speaking?

Before I can say anything else, the line gets fuzzy and a loud clattering sounds from the speaker. Something thuds, then suddenly, it goes quiet. "Willow? Willow!"

No answer.

I step on the accelerator harder, practically demanding the car go fucking faster. My beast would have been able to do it, but we can’t be too cautious in a town full of people that believe in the supernatural.

"What's going on, Bishop?" Aleric asks, gripping the handle on the ceiling of the car when I take a turn too sharply. More than anything, I'm hoping Micah isn't too far away.

"I think she's having a panic attack," I tell him grimly, realization dawning on me much too late. It's all I need to say for him to understand the severity of the situation. If she panics, she changes. If she changes, then there's no telling what she will be capable of. She won't have control, and her mind won't be able to survive the potential destruction she could cause by mistake.

We reach the house in time to see the Devil disappear from outside the front door with a parting glare and a billow of smoke. Micah's car is already parked haphazardly on the road, the driver's side door wide open despite the harsh rain.

I park just behind Micah, and Aleric and I dart out of the car, dashing toward the house. The door is already open, broken off the hinges completely, so we run through the doorway and come to a skidding stop.

At the end of the hallway that stretches before the front door lay four men. Dead men. Their skin has turned ashy and wrinkled, their eye sockets sagging low and their skin hanging off their bones. They look as though they've been sucked dry and left to rot.Willow did this?

Aleric and I share a look of concern before darting up the stairs to Willow's room. I take the stairs two at a time, Aleric not too far behind, and rush into the room, finding myself coming to a sudden stop again.

On the floor, Micah sits with a sobbing Willow clutching at his shirt. She's covered in soot and ash, caked in the remains of her destruction. Her clothes are burnt and barely hanging on to her body, most of her skin blackened, small specks of cinders coating various places of her body. She no longer seems to be burning, and Micah remains the same. Of course they don’t burn. After all, we’re beings made of hellfire.

When she looks up, her eyes are empty, the tear streaks lining her cheeks leaving white marks through the dark soot on her skin. She looks absolutely broken, and the guilt I'm feeling only burrows deeper.

"Fucking hell," Aleric whispers over my shoulder, his voice as strained as I no doubt believe mine would be. My chest hurts, seeing her tear-stricken and clinging to Micah's shirt like it's the only thing keeping her here, the way her tightened knuckles are bloody and raw, the ash clinging to her like a second skin. We should have been here to look after her. We should have protected her better, been here to prevent any of this happening. How fucking stupid am I to have believed she would be safe?

Micah looks up from the woman in his lap, his eyes hard as his nostrils flare when Willow whimpers and shoves her face into his neck. I can tell what he's thinking by that look alone. He knows we should have done more; he tried to do more, and it still resulted in disaster.

We won't make that mistake again.

"Stay with her. Aleric and I will deal with the mess downstairs," I tell him, my voice barely above a whisper. He nods and hugs Willow tighter to him when a new round of tears streams down her cheeks. I have a deep gratitude for my brother's sense of empathy right now since I can do nothing but nod and look away while the guilt eats at me.

I walk down the hall and turn my head when I realize Aleric hasn't followed. I catch him watching Micah and Willow, regret flashing in his eyes before they drop to the floor, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown. He shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his chest, and I look away before he notices I've witnessed something I likely shouldn't have.

We both head down the stairs, back to the hallway that's ruined beyond repair. Fire has scorched the walls and ceiling, nothing left unscathed, and the dead bodies against the wall look to have seen better days.

I walk toward them, deciding we need to rid the house of the corpses before anything else. Upon closer inspection, I see the men all have large holes in their chests, exactly where their hearts should be. Only, the spaces are empty, small piles of dust resting in the rib cages I can see from where I stand. If there's one thing that proves Willow is the daughter of the Devil, it's definitely this. I know of only one other being who burns hearts to ash, and that's Satan himself.

"Holy shit. Did she do that?" Aleric asks from beside me, eyeing the scene before him.

Nodding, I tell him, "Looks like it. She has her father's flair for the dramatics."

Aleric snorts, though there's no humor in the sound. "Yeah, you don't say. Doesn't it worry you that she did this after only just beginning the transition, though? I mean, that shit is crazy."

I pause and think about it. She's strong if she managed to take down four men on her own, and it's terrifying to think about what could have happened if she’d been weaker. I find the only worry I have is keeping her safe. I know, with our help and guidance, she'll learn to control the power she possesses. How do I know that, though? No idea. But I can feel it in my bones. "I'm not worried. She's powerful, sure, but she'll get the hang of it. You forget, the blood that flows through her veins is the same as the Devil’s. We knew she was going to be strong."

He nods, eyeing the dead men and the hallway before shaking his head and muttering, "Strong is putting it mildly."

Shaking my head and blowing out a deep breath, I gesture to the bodies and say, "Help me get them outside. We'll get rid of them and then see what we can do about the house."

My brother nods. "You get the two on the left, I'll grab the ones on the right."

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