I’m doing this for Poppy. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Poppy. For her, the fear of the unknown is worth it.
Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulls up to a large house—one within the limits of Castine, but not one I’ve been to before.
Caldwell moves to my side of the car, popping the door open andoffering a hand.
“I thought this place was abandoned,” I mutter, taking the outstretched hand.
“Did you?” His lips twist—an urge to smile that he continues to fight off.
“I did. My parents always told me not to come here…”
“That was wise of them.”
My fingers slip out of his, worried he’ll feel my sweaty palms. He’s taking me to a creepy house, one he won’t confirm is abandoned. Everything about this—about him—is bad news. There’s nothing to do except follow him inside, fighting against my instincts as he leads me.
“You really won’t tell me what we’re doing?” I whisper, my heels clicking against the cracked pavement.
“You’ll see.” He pushes the door open. “You aren’t very patient, are you?”
Noises flow from the dark space—music, laughter, and chatter. We aren’t alone. I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
“No,” I say. “I can’t say I am.”
“Surprising, considering that you left my texts on read for three days.”
“Was it three days?”
“It was.” He gestures ahead of us. “Go on. You first.”
He’s throwing me into the pit, and I don’t know if I’ll return. I itch to reach for my phone and text Margaux, fighting the nagging feeling that I need backup.
It’s too late. I step inside, looking around as the door closes behind me with a click.
Caldwell’s presence is heavy and prominent. His hand rests on the small of my back.
“Well?” He bends low, the words whispered into my ear. “What do you think?”
The scene in front of me is lavish—reminiscent of an old jazz club, though the music is modern. The attendeeswear their finest, draped in jewels and nursing glasses of liquor.
The music is softer than in a typical nightclub, so low that people can still speak. The dull hum of communication thrums through the room.
“I—” I’m at a loss for words, still uncertain of what I’m looking at. I recognize a few faces—students I’ve seen around campus.
“It’s a club,” he says softly, answering my question without me asking. “But if this isn’t your idea of an adventure, we can go somewhere else. I have a few backup plans.”
I’ve been to clubs before, but this is different—a club full of vampires who likely have blood in their glasses. Vampires who want to have their fangs at my neck—or maybe that’s too presumptuous. There’s always a chance my blood isn’t their type.
I can’t leave. Uncovering new supernatural spots is useful. This place may be related to the murders. What if the murderer comes here to find their victims? What if the murderer isinthis room? I have no proof that it’s Caldwell, but if it is…
Margaux and I have a new place to snoop on him.
“No,” I say smoothly, turning to offer a smile. “This is exactly what I need after a stressful first week.”
“Are you sure?”
I summon what remains of my courage. In a fluid motion, I push myself closer, my hand surprisingly steady as I rest it on his chest.
“You’ll keep me safe,” I say. “Won’t you?”