Page 48 of Salem's Fall
But no, I’ve come too far.
Going back to Boston now empty-handed would mean going back a failure, and after my last screwup, I’d be lucky to get off memo writing duty within the next decade.
IfI even have a job to go back to.
The only option is to get to the bottom of things. If I can figure out what’s really going on and it exonerates Damien, we can win this case. But even if I find out Damien is guilty—if he is responsible for his fiancée’s death—it can still be a win. I’ll have saved the firm and Quinn the embarrassment of losing such an important case. We could strike a plea deal, figure out something that keeps us from getting a losing verdict. I’ll be a hero.
Besides, there’s more at stake now than just this case and my career. I need to find out how the Veil is connected to my mother’s death. If they killed her and I can prove it, I have a shot at freeing my dad too.
I’m so close to unraveling the truth. I can feel it, like a live wire buzzing under my skin.
The Veil.
My dad.
The Blackhollows.
It’s all connected somehow. I just need to keep pulling at the threads until it comes undone.
A soft knock at the door startles me from my thoughts. Room service has arrived. I let the waiter inside and he puts the tray of food on the table by the window. I stare at my dinner ambivalently. I’m not really hungry but forced myself to order something. I’ll need all my energy for what’s ahead.
Lucky rubs up against my legs, purring, as I scoop kibble into his bowl to feed him first. After he’s done, I sink into the chair and grab a slice of cauliflower crust pizza, barely tasting it as I stare out the window. The world outside looks so normal. People walking around, tourists snapping pictures in front of the landmarks, couples laughing as they pass by. But I know better. Everything is wrong.
Lucky nudges my hand with his head, demanding attention.
“I wish I could make sense of this, boy,” I whisper as I scratch behind his ears.
I think back to Lucien and what he told me yesterday about Damien’s role as the heir apparent to the Veil. Lucien had practically dripped with satisfaction when he revealed that nugget of information, enjoying my shock. It isn’t just that Damien is involved in things; he’s at the very heart of it all—their leader. He was born into this darkness, destined for it.
Three sacrifices already. Three innocent people dead.
Who will be the final sacrifice on Veil Night?
Even if Damien isn’t responsible for these murders, there’s no denying that being close to him is dangerous in and of itself. The professor had said as much: the last sacrifice of the Ascension Ritual must be someone Damien’s close with. Every rational part of me screams I need to stay away from Damien, that nothing good can come from this attraction I’ve been trying so hard to ignore.
His charm, his power, that magnetic pull he has—these are the things that ruin people, that lead them down paths they can’t escape from. And yet, every time I see him, it’s like I forget that he’s accused of killing his own fiancée. And not just her. If the professor is to be believed, there are at least two other victims. Maybe more. For all I know, Damien and his family may have even played a role in my mother’s murder.
I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to fight off the cold weight settling in my chest. One thing is certain. Damien Blackhollow is not safe.
He’s never been safe.
As I crawl into bed, I listen for sounds next door, but hear nothing through the thick walls. For someone who’s unusually obsessed with control, it’s a bit odd how radio silent Damien has gone. Despite everything, I feel the sting of disappointment. I sort of expected him to burst through my door the second I got back from the professor’s shop, but there’s been no sign of him. Yes, I was the one who told him to stay away, but some small, irrational part of me thought he’d try harder to earn my forgiveness.
At the very least, I really did think he cared about my safety, at least a tiny bit, even if it was just on a professional level as his lawyer. But he hasn’t checked in at all, even after knowing I went to go see Hargrove, a man he clearly doesn’t like or trust. For all Damien knows, Hargrove—or the Veil,even—could’ve slit my throat tonight, leaving me bloody and dead in the cobbled streets of Salem’s Fall somewhere.
Doesn’t he care at all?
I snort, anger bubbling up inside me. Damn Damien Blackhollow. He has the audacity to act like a possessive beast at times, ordering me around, acting like he’s protecting me, when he obviously doesn’t even care if I’m dead or alive.
I glance over to the wall separating my room from his. Before the clear-minded, rational part of my brain can talk myself out of it, I push back the covers and slide out of bed. I tell myself I’ll just check real quick. Just to see if he’s back.
I tiptoe to my door and ease it open, peeking out. The hallway is quiet. Damien’s door is shut—but not fully. A thin sliver of light spills through the crack. I hesitate, one last moment of sanity begging to take over.
I shouldn’t.
IknowI shouldn’t.
But for someone so obsessed with control, he really should learn to lock his damn door.
