Page 85 of Salem's Fall
For a fleeting moment, something shifts in Lucien’s expression. A crack in his cold indifference, a flicker of something almost like regret. But it’s gone in a breath, his mask snapping back into place. “Leave,” he hisses, his words barely audible over the roar of the flames. “Before I change my mind.”
Lucien waves us toward the shadowy doorway I entered earlier, his presence still crackling with danger, even as he grants us our escape.
Damien takes off, gripping my hand tightly as I reach back and pull Maddie with the other, her hand clammy and trembling in mine. We weave through the frantic crowd, dodging bodies as the fire blazes around us. Heat scorches my skin and I cough, eyes streaming, as we slip back into the cold, shadowy tunnel. Behind me, I can still hear Lucien barking commands, trying to control the madness, but his words are lost in the sea of screams.
The smell of earth and stone fills my lungs, blissfully replacing the choking smoke from the chamber. The dampness inside chills me to the bone, pressing in from all sides, amplifying every sound and every heartbeat that pounds against my ribs. Damien’s hand tightens around mine, grounding me, steadying me in the dark, twisting tunnel. Maddie clings to me, her breathing fast and shallow beside me.
The tunnel stretches longer than I remember, each twist and turn identical to the last. A part of me fears we’re only going deeper, that this endless maze will swallow us whole, but Damien’s steps are confident, purposeful. I force myself to trust him and focus only on the warmth of his hand, on the rhythmic squeeze of his fingers. Finally, a faint sliver of light appears up ahead.
Damien quickens his pace, leading us through the narrow passage and into the cool night. I gasp, the fresh air filling my lungs in sharp relief as we emerge into a secluded clearing near the edge of Strega’s Hollow. Nearby, a sleek black Lamborghini sports car waits by the fence line. Damien unlocks the doors with a flick of his wrist, gesturing for Maddie to take the back seat. She scrambles in, exhausted but alive, and I slide in next to her.
“I knew you’d come for me, Jamie!” She lets out a sob, shaking in my arms as Damien fires up the engine. “No matter how scared I got, I just… I knew it.”
“I’ll always come for you.” I hold her tight against me. “It’s going to be okay now, Mads. I promise.”
Damien is silent as we speed through the gates and down the narrow, winding road. Trees blur. Every twist of the road tightens the grip of fear in my chest. I imagine each passing shadow is one of the Veil, still after us, unwilling to let us go free.
“Where are we going?” I glance at Damien, still trying to catch my breath.
“Blackthorn Manor,” he says, his gaze focused on the road ahead as we weave through the darkened streets.
I stare at him, incredulous. He can’t be serious.
“We need to get out of Salem’s Fall,” I say. “We have to get as far away as possible, somewhere they can never find us.”
“Trust me.” A hint of that familiar, infuriating cockiness returns in the curve of his mouth. “Blackthorn Manor’s the safest place we can be right now.”
“You keep asking me to trust you, but how am I supposed to do that when you’re always hiding things from me?” I owe him my life—again—but that doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still keeping secrets.
“Not now,” Damien says tightly.
“Now is the only time we have,” I shoot back. “Because once we’re there, who knows what you’ll say—or hide—next.” I fix my eyes on him. “I found Mark’s access card at Blackthorn Manor. And Vivienne’s missing engagement ring. Why do you have them?”
His jaw tightens. “You shouldn’t be going through my things.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “I wasn’t snooping!” I snap. “I just—found them.” My frustration boils over as I remember exactly where they were. He’s the one who hid my things in the first place. And now he’s mad at me? “They were rightnext to my cell phone and laptop. You know, the ones you took and hid from me?”
For a long moment, he says nothing. His grip on the wheel tightens, knuckles flexing, but his face remains maddeningly calm.
“James, I’m not always going to do things I can explain—or want to,” he says. “Either you trust me and how I feel about you, or you don’t.”
I lean back, tension still thrumming beneath my skin. As frustrating as it is to be kept from the full truth, especially for someone like me, there’s something in his tone—an unwavering certainty, a quiet force—that makes me second guess myself and my need to always know everything. Besides, haven’t I learned my lesson tonight?
I almost died. Maddie too. And Damien… he threw himself into the fire—literally—for us. It was so close. Too close. If I’d just listened to him, none of this would’ve happened.
I know he’s not innocent. There was the staged attack my first night in Salem’s Fall. Not to mention the whole drugging-my-wine-at-dinner and Mark’s stolen access card. After finding that card, I feel certain Damien knows far more about Mark’s “accidental” death than he’s let on. And there’s Vivienne’s missing ring too. And a thousand other unanswered questions, all adding up to something I’m not sure I really want to know.
But… I do believe Damien about one thing.
Whatever he’s guilty of, it isn’t killing the women he loves. And as twisted and morally gray as his actions have been, I know it was only meant to protect me.
The exhaustion of the night presses down on me, draining any remaining argument. Maybe, just this once, I don’t have to fight him. If he says Blackthorn Manor is safe, perhaps I should listen. At the very least, it’s safer than being out in theopen.
As we pull onto the winding driveway of the compound and the towering gates close behind us, a strange sense of calm settles over me that I can’t explain. There’s an unspoken power surrounding this place, something ancient and steady that feels almost protective. It’s like stepping into a protective bubble, sealed off from the chaos and fear that has chased us all night. For the first time this evening, my pulse slows, my breathing evening out as we near the main house.
And then, I spot Lucky.
He sits on the front doorsteps, his golden eyes catching the light as he watches us pull up. His black lips tilt up, almost like a smile.
