Page 20 of Salem’s Fall (Dark Seasons Thriller #3)

“And that’s why you went to law school? To right wrongs?”

I look up, stunned. It’s bewildering, Damien’s uncanny ability to see right to the heart of things. I don’t understand how this man who hardly knows me seems to keep pegging me exactly right.

“It’s not fair,” I say, my fingers tightening around the stem of my wineglass, pressing hard enough that I half expect it to crack. “My mom’s murderer is still out there, and if anyone in the criminal justice system had given a damn, things would’ve been very different for my family.”

“I’m sorry. Truly,” he says. “And now your dad is in prison?”

“For almost a decade now.”

For a moment, silence lingers between us. Damien studies me, brows drawing together in thought.

“Interesting.” He nods, like something is clicking into place. “I can see why you’d be drawn to my case.”

I stare at him, feeling exposed, raw.

“Yes, there are some… similarities.”

Vivienne deserves justice. My mother never got it. And if Damien is innocent, I want to save him—because I couldn’t save my dad. But if he’s not… then he belongs behind bars, like my mother’s real killer should be.

“Well, I told you my secret,” I say, swallowing hard. “Now it’s your turn.”

Damien cuts at his rare steak with precise, deliberate movements. “Very well,” he says. “You want to know about the Veil? Let me tell you about my family.”

His voice is low, almost hypnotic, as he shares the history of the Blackhollow family and how his ancestors joined the Veil during the witch trials in order to stay safe after watching their neighbors and friends being executed, burned at the stake.

He explains how the Veil operates in secret, even today, with the primary goal being the founding families maintaining their power in New England.

He says it all quite matter-of-factly, like the Veil is just another secret society of powerful people, like the Freemasons or the Skull and Bones at Yale University.

I’m disappointed, but not surprised, when he leaves out all the nefarious stuff I’m most intrigued by—the occult ties and bloody rituals, the things Professor Hargrove spoke of.

Not that I thought he’d admit any of that to me.

He explains how his late father, Ian Blackhollow, and his late grandfather, Nathaniel Blackhollow, were both deeply involved as heads of the Veil.

How the Veil has always been strongest with a Blackhollow heir at the helm, its influence rising and falling under their control.

And then he tells me about his older half-brother, Lucien, the black sheep of the family.

“You should talk to him,” he says, his tone casual but sharp. “Lucien can give you more answers than that nutjob professor.”

“Your brother? How so?”

“Lucien was always closer to our father. He may have known things I wasn’t privy to.” He lets out a low, almost mocking laugh. “Closer to my fiancée too.”

My breathing quickens. Is he implying what I think he’s implying?

“Meaning?”

His eyes lock on mine, tellingly. “Exactly what you’re thinking. Yes, they were having an affair.”

Part of me feels for him. I despise cheaters and it can’t be easy to discover your brother and fiancée are fooling around behind your back.

But as his attorney, I have to note this is another bad fact that we’ll have to deal with later on.

Unfortunately, this also gives him a real motive for the killing .

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “I just ended a three-year relationship under similar circumstances.”

“Well, you’re better off without him, I’m sure.” He gives me a sincere smile, almost admiring. “Anyone who’d cheat on you is a fool.”

“Thank you,” I say, warmth rising to my cheeks. Of course, I know William is an idiot, but it’s nice to hear someone else say it, especially someone like Damien Blackhollow. “Your brother, where does he live?”

“Here. In Salem’s Fall,” he says and then pauses, thoughtful. “Come to think of it, he was also in Boston the night my fiancée was killed. You may want to ask him about that too.”

“Will he meet with me?”

“Not willingly.” He lifts a brow. “But, if you agree to forgo meeting with the professor tomorrow, I’ll set it up for you.”

“And you don’t want me to talk to Nick again because…?”

Damien’s smile is cold. “Because I don’t trust him. Hargrove is playing his own game, and I don’t want you caught in the middle.”

“Okay.” I nod along, reasoning that I can talk to his brother first, then circle back to the professor, if needed. “I’ll talk to your brother instead.”

I take a final sip of my wine, savoring the rich, velvety taste before setting my glass down and glancing at my watch. “It’s getting late,” I say, dabbing my napkin at my lips and pushing my plate away. “Can you drop me off at the Cottage? I want to change and head back to the Hollow.”

Something about that sacrifice slab nags at me, like I missed something important earlier. And if the Veil still uses the Hollow, like our tour guide had hinted, then night would be the perfect time to catch them.

Damien stills. “Now?”

“Time is of the essence, don’t you agree?” I raise a brow. “ And I can’t think of a better time to investigate a creepy, possibly cursed location than at night.”

He leans back in his chair, slow and deliberate, arms folding across his chest. “Tell me, James—do you ever listen to anyone?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve already warned you that place is dangerous and now you want to go back by yourself— and at night ? Even that quack tour guide told you, don’t come back after dark.” His voice drops lower, mocking. “But no, you’re going to march right in because you know better than everyone, right?”

“I’m a grown woman, Damien,” I say, heat rising in my cheeks, my irritation flaring. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“You shouldn’t want to be a reckless idiot.”

“Well, I guess I do.” I huff and shove my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. I toss my napkin onto the table and glare at him. “I’ll get a taxi. Thanks for the lovely meal.”

“Come now, James. Let’s not ruin the night over this.

” He tilts his head, watching me carefully.

Then, just as smoothly as he’d gotten under my skin, his demeanor shifts completely.

His posture eases, his mouth curving into something almost..

. agreeable. “If you’re that set on going, I’ll take you myself. ”

I hesitate for half a second, thrown off by the sudden shift. My pulse is still hot with irritation, but something about his voice—low, smooth, coaxing—makes me hesitate.

“Really?”

His lips twitch like he’s amused by my skepticism. “Yes, of course.”

I try to decide if he’s just saying this to pacify me or if he actually means it. I suppose he looks sincere. Or at least as sincere as Damien Blackhollow can look.

“Well… okay, then.”

“Good.” He nods, taking another sip of wine. “Why don’t you use the ladies’ first before we go? Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”

Not a bad idea. The wine and water are already catching up with me, so I excuse myself to the bathroom. When I return to the table moments later, Damien looks up, apology etched in his features.

“I’m sorry for being an ass,” he says. “I just don’t want you walking into something you can’t handle.” He lifts his wineglass and gestures to me. “Truce?”

I nod, cheersing him, even though I probably shouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. But when he looks at me like that—genuine, apologetic—it’s hard to stay mad.

The wine slides down my throat, warm and rich. When I set my glass down empty, a satisfied smile tugs at his lips. He tosses his black American Express Centurion card on the table and signs for the bill.

As we step outside and head toward Damien’s fancy car, a wave of drowsiness creeps over me, slow and heavy, like a weighted blanket settling over my shoulders. My legs feel unsteady, and I stumble for a moment before his hand finds the small of my back.

“You okay?”

I nod, though the movement feels sluggish.

“Seems you’re a bit of a lightweight, hmm, Counselor?” he teases.

I sway again, and Damien steadies me with a firm but easy grip. “Guess I’m out of practice.”

I rarely go out drinking anymore. I’m always in the office, always working.

Damien opens the passenger door and helps me into the backseat, sitting beside me while Bennett drives. Inside the car, the drowsiness deepens. I press my palms against the cool leather of the car door, trying to stay awake. My head lolls slightly before I catch myself, blinking hard .

What the hell?

I only had those two glasses of wine, didn’t I? Or… was it three?

Damien watches me from across the seat, his gaze steady, almost assessing.

“Guess I should stick to one glass while on the job, huh?” I joke, my voice sluggish, thick.

“It was a long day. I’m sure you were already tired.”

I am tired. So very, very tired. Like I want to go back to my room and sleep for days.

“The Hollow,” I whisper, trying to push through the fog creeping in. “I need to get to the Hollow—” The yawn pulling from my chest interrupts my words.

“You’re not seriously still planning on going tonight, are you?”

I open my mouth to argue, but suddenly, the thought of stumbling through the dark woods of the Hollow feels impossible.

“No.” I slump further in my seat. My brain is melting into syrup. “Guess not.”

By the time we pull up to the Cottage, my eyelids are so heavy, I can barely keep them open.

Damien walks me inside, his hand pressed to my back as he guides me toward my room.

His touch is gentler than I thought a man like him was capable of.

As I turn to say goodbye, I find him standing far too close, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

“You’re stalking me again,” I mutter, half-joking, half-serious as I lean against my door for support. He takes the key from my shaky hands and helps me unlock it.

“Just making sure you’re safe.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it from here,” I say, lifting a brow. “And you can’t keep following me back to my room. You’re my client. It’s not… proper.”

“I’m not,” he says, stepping back with a mock bow and pointing to the room beside us. “I’m going to my room—next door.”

I sway, gripping the edge of the doorway. “You… you booked the room next to mine?”

“Of course. If you insist on staying in town, at least this way, I can keep an eye on you.”

He gives me a little wink, then turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, sleepy, hazy, and suddenly unsure of everything.