Page 30 of Salem’s Fall (Dark Seasons Thriller #3)

“I’m fine, Katie,” I say, forcing a level of calm into my voice that I don’t feel.

“I’m just scared for you. Everything I’m hearing about Blackhollow.

.. it’s bad. Really bad .” I can hear the worry in her voice.

“You know I can’t tell you much, but from what I’m hearing, things are moving fast on the DA’s side.

It’s looking worse for Blackhollow every day, and now they’re saying there could be another murder tied to him. An ex-girlfriend or something?—”

“Wait, other murders? What do you mean?” I interrupt, trying my best to sound naive, like I haven’t spent the entire day researching this myself. But I want to hear what the DA knows while being careful not to give away anything myself.

“I don’t know all the details,” Katie says, choosing her words carefully. “But rumors are flying that there could be more murders connected to your client than just the dead fiancée. From what I hear, this could be just the tip of the iceberg.”

I pause, processing. It sounds like the DA is sniffing around, but they haven’t put the pieces together yet. That means I may still have the upper hand.

But I can’t tell Katie that.

Even if Katie is my best friend and I have my own suspicions about my client’s innocence, I can’t share any of this with her.

Even if Damien Blackhollow is some sort of crazed serial killer, I still feel some messed up sense of loyalty toward him, not to mention an ethical responsibility to keep his confidence.

At least for now.

She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Come back to Boston, James. No job is worth your life.”

“I need a little more time. I promise I’ll be careful.”

“You’d better be,” she warns. “Oh yeah, and Quinn’s been calling me. He’s worried about you too. Maybe give the poor guy a call back before he has a heart attack.”

The mention of Quinn makes my stomach churn.

I feel terrible for how I’ve been ignoring him.

And it’s not just because he’s my boss or my job is on the line.

It’s Quinn. I hate the idea of him being angry with me, but I don’t know what to say to him.

I know he wants me to come back too, and I can’t do that just yet.

“Thanks for calling, Katie.” My voice comes out tight, controlled. “I have to go now, but we’ll talk later, okay?”

I end the call right as the library lights begin to dim.

It’s closing time. With a sigh, I gather my things and step into the cool night air.

Tourists pass by, laughing and snapping pictures, playing make-believe in their witch hats and brooms, oblivious to the real darkness lurking beneath the surface.

They have no idea what’s really going on in this town.

Back at the Cottage, I stroll through the lobby and head for my room. Holding my breath, I glance around, half expecting to see Damien in front of me, waiting for me with that smoldering gaze, but there’s no sign of him. No sexy dark figure lurking about.

I feel a pang of disappointment.

Though I’m the one who told him to leave me alone, I didn’t actually expect him to listen. He doesn’t seem like the type to listen to anyone. I sort of thought he was more… I don’t know—invested in me? If not in me, at least in his own murder case.

Lucky hops up to greet me as I walk inside my room, curling against my side while I settle onto the bed with my laptop.

My fingers hover over the keys as I try to force my thoughts into coherent sentences to finish Quinn’s case memo, but my mind is everywhere but the screen.

The events of the last few days are a tangled mess, a web of secrets and lies that I’m still trying to unravel.

Lucky flicks his tail, sensing my unease, but doesn’t leave my side.

I should order dinner—room service, maybe—but I’m not hungry. It’s like I have no appetite.

After I finish my memo, I check my inbox again and am a little surprised to see there’s nothing new from Quinn. He hasn’t called or texted in hours either. Last night and earlier today, he was bombarding me with messages, demanding I come back to Boston. But now... now the silence feels ominous.

What if something’s happened to him? What if he’s been attacked like Mark?

My stomach clenches with worry. Mark was an asshole, but Quinn—Quinn is different. He’s more than just my partner and mentor. Quinn is special to me. Maybe more special than I’ve allowed myself to feel because he’s my boss…

I shake my head.

No, Quinn is fine.

He’s probably just waiting for my memo before launching into another round of “urgent” messages about me leaving Salem’s Fall. Despite the seriousness of it all, I can’t help the tiny grin tugging at my lips as I attach the memo to an email and hit send.

Quinn is going to lose his mind when he reads all this—the Veil’s presence in Salem’s Fall, not simply a relic of the past but an ongoing force; my conversation with Detective Harris and the library archives confirming a pattern of ritual murders stretching back decades; and worst of all, Lucien’s revelation that Damien isn’t just entangled in this world, but destined to lead it.

A hard knock at the door snaps me out of my thoughts. For a second, I almost hope it’s Damien. I shouldn’t want to see him after everything that’s happened, but I can’t help it. I take a deep breath and open the door.

“Quinn?” I blink in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Quinn rushes forward and sweeps me into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around me, strong and warm, pulling me against his muscular chest. It’s so unexpected, so unlike the usually composed and professional man I know, that I freeze for a moment.

“God, Woodsen,” he mutters against my hair. “I thought something happened to you. You haven’t answered any of my calls or emails for days!”

I pull back slightly, trying to process the intensity in his voice. Quinn is not a man of grand gestures or emotions. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable, shocks me.

“I’m fine,” I say. “It’s just been crazy here. I’ve been so busy with this case.”

He pulls back, though his hands remain on my shoulders, his eyes scanning my face.

“Busy?” His tone is sharp, frustrated. “You can’t possibly be so busy you can’t even check in. I was worried, Woodsen! You don’t get to do that—not when you’re working for me. ”

I step back, folding my arms across my chest. “I’m handling it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He looks down and sighs, almost defeated.

“This is all my fault. I never should’ve gotten you involved in all this.”

“You don’t understand, Quinn,” I say. “I want to be on this case—I need to be on it. There’s so much more at play here than we thought.”

“Then tell me.” Quinn steps closer, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me what’s going on, and we’ll figure it out together. But you can’t do this alone. It’s not safe.”

I hesitate, glancing at my cat, who’s watching us from his spot on the bed, his eyes thoughtful, unblinking.

“I’m not alone. I’ve got Lucky,” I say, only half joking.

“I’m being serious.”

I hesitate, shifting uncomfortably. “Well… Damien’s here too. He’s staying next door.”

Or at least he was …

His whole expression darkens. “He’s what ?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he asks, his voice tight. “What the hell is he doing here?”

I sigh, rubbing my temple. “I don’t know, Quinn. He’s Damien Blackhollow. He does whatever he wants.”

A muscle pulses in his square jaw. For a moment, it looks like he’s about to argue, but then he shakes his head, exasperated. “Of course he does,” he says, his tone quieter now, but there’s still a frustrated edge.

“Quinn, listen. This is so much more than just one murder,” I say. “Damien, his family, the Order of the Veil… there’s a pattern here that dates back decades—maybe centuries. I can’t leave now. I’m too close to the truth.”

“And what truth are you hoping to find? That Damien Blackhollow isn’t the monster everyone thinks he is?” Quinn’s face hardens. “Because I’ve been talking to the DA, and I’m starting to worry that he may be.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Or are you just trying to prove something to yourself?”

I wince at his words. They hit closer to home than I’d like to admit.

For a moment, we stand in silence, the weight of everything pressing down between us. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, almost pleading.

“I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. That I’m the one putting you in danger.” He steps closer, reaching for my hand. “I care about you, James. More than I should.”

His voice breaks with emotion, and I look up, meeting his gaze. There’s something raw in his eyes, something that wasn’t there before.

“Quinn, I?—”

“No, let me finish,” he continues, his words slow and deliberate.

“I care for you in a way I probably shouldn’t—for a whole lot of reasons—but I do.

How can I not? You drive me crazy, Woodsen.

” He drags a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening like he’s fighting against himself.

When his gaze locks onto mine again, there’s no hiding the raw intensity there.

“I can’t just stand by and watch you in trouble.

” He steps closer, voice lowering. “Let me protect you. Come back to Boston with me.”

I stare at him, the room spinning as his confession hangs in the air, thick and heavy. I don’t know how to react. Part of me is elated. This gorgeous, successful, brilliant man likes me ?

Quinn Alexander Kensington is everything I should want in a partner. I should be bouncing off the walls knowing how he feels about me. And I’ve thought about him this way too. I admit it. Who could be around Quinn and not think of him like that, at least once in a while?

And yet …

Though my heart is racing, it’s not in the same way it does whenever Damien is near. This is comfortable but not electrifying. Safe but not consuming.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Leave with me—now. Tonight.” Quinn reaches for me again, grasping my hands in his. “I’ll have someone get your car in the morning.”

“Quinn, I can’t,” I say, pulling back. “This case… I–I need to see it through.”

He nods. “Just think about it,” he says, his voice filled with quiet hope. “We can talk more in the morning. I’m staying here. I’m not leaving you alone in Salem’s Fall.”

I nod slowly, still reeling from his words. “Okay. Tomorrow then.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on me for a long moment before he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Goodnight, Woodsen.”

I close the door behind him and lean against it, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. Quinn wants to protect me, take care of me, take me away from all this madness. And maybe I should let him. The safe choice may be exactly what I need…

I’m just not sure it’s what I want.