Page 28 of Salem's Fall

“I’m not some damsel in distress, and I don't need a bodyguard.”

He exhales, shaking his head. “I would’ve thought last night—your little scare—would’ve sent you packing. It should’ve been enough for any sensible person with even a shred of self-preservation, at least.”

“Some random mugger?” I frown. “Why would that make me leave town?”

His gaze flickers, lingering a second too long.

“Oh. Is that what it was?”

Something about the way he says it makes my stomach twist. I think back to last night, to the way the masked man had appeared out of nowhere. He hadn’t tried to grab my purse or anything. Just lunged straight for me. That was strange for a mugging, sure, but what else could he have wanted from me?

I back away from Damien and his fancy car. “Listen, thanks for your chivalrous offer, but I’m staying. Besides, I have my own ride,” I say. “I drove here with Lucky, and he’s still sleeping.”

Something tightens in his jaw. “Lucky? I wasn’t aware you were… attached.”

If I didn’t know better, I would think Damien was jealous.

I smile lightly. “He’s my cat.”

“Oh.” His expression brightens. “I love cats.”

“Really?” I raise a brow. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Is that so? And what type do I seem like to you?”

Dark. Dangerous. Possibly murderous.

But, of course, I can’t say any of that out loud to a client. Instead, I shrug and avoid his question.

“Thank you for your help last night and for checking on me today,” I say, inching away from him. “But I’m afraid I must be on my way now.”

“And where exactly are you going?” he asks, lips twitching.

“Strega’s Hollow. I was told it might be important to your case.”

His eyes narrow. “Strega’s Hollow, you say? I’ll go with you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“I must insist,” he says. “If I can’t persuade you to go home, then I’m coming with you.”

Annoyance flickers at me, but I have to tread carefully.

“It will be faster if I go alone. Clients don’t usually accompany us on investigations,” I say. “Besides, I don’t want to bore you. This is just a kitschy little witch memorial. A tourist trap.”

“Strega’s Hollow is more dangerous than you realize.”

I feel the hairs on my arms rise.

“Dangerous, how?”

“During the trials, it was a place where witches performed some of their most brutal rituals. That kind of…activity…leaves scars on the land.”

“There were no witches.” I scoff. “Just innocent people accused of crimes they didn’t commit.”

“Is that right?” His gaze sharpens, his voice dropping lower. “If you keep poking around Salem’s Fall, digging into things you don’t understand, bad things will happen.” He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his touch lingering. “You need to be more careful. I wouldn’twant anything to happen to you… not like what happened to poor Mark, your coworker.” A slow, deliberate tongue click. “Pity.”

My breath catches. “That was an accident.”