Chapter 36 Salem
CHAPTER 36
SALEM
The week after the gala was a whirlwind.
Caz ended up raising a whopping hundred million for his entire collection, sans the two he kept. He donated everything to the charities, and took her mother up on her invitation to spend the end of the year together.
It felt odd, having him in the house she grew up in, but that feeling was trumped by the fact that he got to spend this time of the year with love after so long. They had both been so lonely, that being together had just made life better. The acceptance in her heart that he loved her was still new but it was solid, unwavering, just like her own knowledge that she loved him too.
Her mother loved him as well, even though he was a new acquaintance of hers. Selina Salazar took him under her wing and Salem wondered how she would react if she ever got to know who he really was. Maybe she was better off not knowing.
They spent the week together, and then, after New Year’s they went back to the campus. She knew it was to meet Baron and do whatever it was he was doing. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. She preferred to at least be there when he returned.
The residences were mostly empty at the time, most students already home with their families. It felt odd being alone in the building, almost eerie after Caz left to meet Baron, making her promise that she wouldn’t follow him, saying that it could be dangerous for her.
She wouldn’t follow him, but she had her own investigation to do. Caz might be keeping secrets from her but she had been keeping her own. It was a full moon night after New Year’s and she was going to go to the lighthouse and try to see if she found anything.
Salem slipped out of the residences, dressed warmly in her all-black attire, making sure the main door to the building didn’t creak behind her.
Snow cushioned the ground beneath her as she walked, making her wish there was a way to clear her tracks so no one could follow them. Under the bright moonlight, as she made her way across campus to the main street, the one that would take her to the lighthouse, Salem huddled into her jacket. It was more than just the cold, biting wind. It was the fact that at this time of the night, enveloped in the dark and wrapped in snow, it all looked like a ghost town, like something frozen in time for centuries.
If she were superstitious, it would feel ominous.
Shadows seemed to be moving and she kept herself alert, crossing the street, her breath puffing in front of her face, the snow crunching under her boots loud in the otherwise silent night. Salem wished she could do something to keep it all quiet but she had neither the skill nor the environment for it.
As the lighthouse came into view, her heart began to pound harder. She turned the corner and walked down the incline toward the rock face, grateful that the lighthouse was out of order. Out here, the only light she had to be careful of was that of the moon, an almost burnt moon, just like her great-grandmama had written about.
Her body shivered, with the cold, with the dread, with the uncertainty, she didn’t know. She just shivered as she walked, finally coming to a stop at the entrance to the tall, imposing structure that jutted spookily from the cutting rocks.
There were heavy sounds coming from somewhere deep inside the lighthouse.
Curious but cautious, Salem pushed on the door with her gloved hand, surprised when it gave and opened an inch.
A loud creak filled the air and she froze, waiting to see if something would happen.
Her heart seemed to be thundering in her ribcage as she stayed poised, ready to flee if need be. Moments, heavy moments, passed. Nothing happened. The sounds coming from inside never stopped.
Salem opened the door slightly wider and slipped through, not daring to close it lest it creak again, and took in her surroundings.
It was what one would expect of an old abandoned lighthouse, nothing spectacular. Empty, large space, some broken furniture pushed to a side, and a dilapidated spiral metal staircase leading up to the top. What was more interesting to her, though, was a spiral staircase leading down. Down where?
Salem followed it with her eyes as it went down, seemingly into some dark hole, just a narrow set of stairs leading into it. Obviously, the space was under the rocks and right by the sea. Could it be some kind of a tunnel or a cave? Only one way to find out.
Glad to have written a note before leaving, just in case things didn’t go her way, Salem pushed out all the rumors about ghosts and hauntings from her head and started down the stairs.
The space was so narrow she was barely able to even lift her arms to hold the railing or move to balance herself in the tight space, somehow, slowly, making her way down the steps without breaking her neck. Light from the moon disappeared as she went deeper, the sounds she had heard getting louder. Some kind of song?
Finally on flat, soft ground, Salem balanced herself and looked around, trying to get some sense of where she was. It seemed to be some kind of tunnel. The air felt damp and much colder than it had been upstairs. Though she had her phone and she could use the flashlight, she didn’t want to alert anyone unnecessarily.
A light at the end of the tunnel, cliché as it seemed, was her only guiding light. The sound seemed to be coming from there too, as did a sound of water and a gentle breeze. Taking a deep breath in, the cold seeping into her lungs, Salem made her way as quietly as possible to the end of the tunnel, careful not to trip on something.
The sounds of water and wind and voice got closer, as finally the tunnel opened into a large cave.
Salem crouched down at the mouth of the opening, hiding behind a large rock to the side, and took it all in. The cave had an extremely high ceiling that had an opening to let the moonlight in, the opening she was hiding beside, and another on the opposite end leading to what looked to be another tunnel. The rays of moonlight fell right in the middle, on a stone altar very similar to the one she had been on in the woods. Fire torches on metal poles were dug into the ground around the altar at a distance, lighting up the area.
A group of five men wearing dark cloaks that completely covered their frames, and skeleton masks similar to ones used in horror movies, stood around the altar. It all looked extremely disturbing, surprisingly stereotypical, and archaic. The only modern thing in the whole setting was a tripod with a camera set up, facing down at the altar.
And the worst, most surprising part was the girl on it.
Melissa. Her friend. Her unconscious friend. The one who was supposed to be home with her family.
What the hell?
“Welcome, Mortemians,” a familiar voice spoke. Salem watched with mild surprise as Dr. Bayne removed his mask. The rest continued to wear them.
What shocked her more was the name. Mortemians. She thought the group was dead.
Dr. Bayne turned to everyone else. “While tonight our old brethren initiate new recruits in their old, spineless ways, we initiate a new member, one chosen out of many to come into our ranks. Let us initiate him with a gift, a ritual worthy of being a Mortemian. Let us welcome him like a man.”
He pointed to a tall figure to the side, beckoning him forward.
Salem was so involved in watching the proceedings that she completely forgot to be alert. A hand grabbed her arm, dragging her out from behind the rock.
“We have an infiltrator, professor.”
Salem didn’t recognize the stranger’s voice, but as she struggled to get free his grip on her arm slipped an inch, enough for her to get free and turn to run. He grabbed her by the hair this time, pulling her to the altar as she struggled and shouted, the pain in her scalp telling her some of her hair was ripped out for sure.
The man threw her on the altar next to the unconscious Melissa, and Salem sat up, glaring at his masked face before turning to level Dr. Bayne with a look.
“I should have known you were involved when I saw Lara in your office that morning,” Salem spit at him.
Dr. Bayne shook his head almost fondly. “You’re smart, Salem, but too curious for your own good. Lara being in my office was a coincidence.”
Salem looked around at the group. “And what of her death?”
He shrugged. “Some people are just weak.”
Salem could feel the fury mount inside her. “My sister wasn’t weak.”
A voice broke through. “No, she wasn’t.”
Merlin.
She knew the asshole had been involved.
She watched, unable to move, as Merlin took off his mask and stepped closer to her. His face twisted in a sneer as he looked her up and down. “That’s exactly why it was so much fun breaking her.”
Salem felt her jaw set, her teeth grinding in an effort to keep herself still and not claw his face off.
Dr. Bayne interjected. “We need to proceed.”
“Let me at least tell the bitch what we did to her sister. She has it coming for the way she’s been with me all semester,” Merlin complained, more childlike than man, and Salem could see the dynamic of the group emerging. “It’s not like she’s going to get out anyway.”
She would. Somehow, she had to, and take Melissa out safely as well.
“This—” Merlin pointed to her friend. “—is exactly how I had your sister. The first time, at least,” he told her, setting off a surge of rage in her body as she imagined how helpless her sister must have been.
“We got her for an initiation much like this one, you see.” Merlin walked around the altar, and Salem kept her eyes on him. “It’s all about the group psychology, remember? We all do something together to feel the bond. She was unconscious for most of it. Poor thing was so disoriented when she came to.” He stopped next to Melissa, moving her hair to the side, exposing her face to the moonlight.
“What did you give her?” Salem asked through her disgust, re ferring to both her friend and her sister, wanting as much information as possible.
“A homemade drug.” He laughed in her face. “Our resident genius Dr. Bayne grows it himself. It’s a type of datura flower, very potent. High doses can cause hallucinations, higher doses can cause death. They have caused death.”
Datura. Jimsonweed. Devil’s trumpet. She knew the flower was extremely potent, the scopolamine messing with the nervous system in the body. Although she hadn’t known it could make someone behave the way he was claiming. But if Dr. Bayne had developed it, he might have added in another chemical and customized it to his needs.
“Why?” she asked, the most important question perhaps. “My sister was innocent. She was good. Why her?”
Merlin stared back at her, the evil she had seen in him lurking out, naked. The others simply stood around, waiting for him to be done.
“That’s why, Salem,” he told her, his eyes filled with glee. “The initiation was just a part of it. I went to her after, blackmailed her with the videos, saw her break slowly. It was beautiful. And when she decided to be brave, I told her to end it. The human mind is so malleable, you see. It’s such a wonder to play with.”
He was sick. Seriously, sadistically sick.
And she needed to get out with her friend.
How?
She kept her stare level on Merlin, not like she had another choice, and he sneered at her. “You can’t ruin what I have built here, Salem. You think you’re some hotshot, coming in here, wanting to find answers? Get the awards started again? We got the awards cancelled, little girl. We picked the best girl from the applicants every year, used them for initiations. They died, until our older brethren had no choice but to let them go.”
Salem wanted to ask him what he got out of it. The small dick energy emanating from him was enough of an answer about his ego, but she wondered if this so-called group, that was clearly made of the more radical elements of the legacy societies, had any other mission than to replicate and cause trouble.
“Enough,” Dr. Bayne said. “Let’s get on with this.”
Salem looked around frantically for a weapon, trying to find a stone, something, anything that she could use. Except the fire torches there was nothing, and those were too far away.
“Dr. Bayne,” Salem appealed to him, hoping he had more of a shred of humanity than the sadistic monster responsible for her sister’s death. “You had a daughter once. You wouldn’t have wanted this for her.”
Merlin and a few others began to laugh. Salem looked around, trying to figure out what she’d said that was so funny.
A masked member of the group spoke from her right. “His daughter was the first one we initiated, girl.”
Horror ripped through her as she looked at another kind of monster, the kind that hid behind a warm smile and fatherly comfort.
“We all have our pleasures, Salem,” Dr. Bayne offered with a smile, one that was still kind and warm, making her feel nauseous. “Let’s get on with it.”
The new recruit, the one Dr. Bayne had pointed to, walked to Salem and picked her up. She began to struggle, her hands going to his mask to rip it off, her legs kicking out trying to hit him, but he locked one arm around her torso, effectively immobilizing her, carrying her to the other end of the altar and placing her on it rather gently.
Heart thundering, she looked up at the opening in the cave, body rigid, and wondered how she was going to survive what was about to happen. She wondered how her sister had, if she had truly forgotten or actually remembered. She wondered if she had killed herself that night, driven by the way her mind and body had been broken, or if it had been pure murder.
She remembered the words, that they were making her do it.
Her sister had remembered, enough for her to write it to Salem.
Salem blinked up, unable to even close her eyes as terror unlike any she had ever known engulfed her, tears leaking out from the corners of her eyes and into her hairline.
A body covered hers, and her heart shriveled, her frozen state making her hate herself as the new recruit, still with his mask on, kept her arms trapped by her head and bent over her, his nose going straight to the side of her neck.
Salem stilled.
The nose, the spot, the weight, it was all familiar.
Now that she was focused, she could catch a faint whiff of his scent under the cloak.
Paint and petrichor.
Caz.
Salem felt her shriveled heart beat a pulse, her tight muscles slowly relaxing as the fear dissipated, almost.
What the fuck was he doing there?
She didn’t know, but she was certain he had something up his sleeve. He was supposed to be with Baron. They were supposed to be planning something. Was this it? Was this what they’d been planning? To infiltrate the last of this nuisance group and end them? Was this a part of their legacy group initiation?
She had so, so many questions and no way to ask them.
“Though we didn’t plan on you being here tonight,” Merlin told her from the side, “this is a better turn of events than we expected. Do you recognize him? You should, given how often he’s had you under him.”
The group chuckled and Salem gritted her teeth, her eyes going to them as Caz stayed on top of her, silent.
“Seducing you was a part of his task,” Merlin admitted, letting it all out in the open. “He was assisting me to become a part of our society, and I saw how you were with him in class. What better way to destroy you than to have him seduce you and then break you? I like watching people break.”
A few weeks ago, Salem might have believed him. But the girl she was now—the girl who loved and trusted this man, who believed him, who knew he had gone to prison for avenging a wrong done to her by this very group, who was on a quest to avenge his brother who may or may not have been killed by this very group—she didn’t believe a single word.
Oh, she believed Merlin had tried to recruit him, and she believed that he had played along, but she didn’t believe she was a game to him. He loved her, and the fact that the first thing he had done here was nuzzle her neck, a move she knew down to her marrow because of how often he did it, just to reassure her, cemented her own belief.
He kept kissing her neck, pretending not to listen to Merlin, but the tightness in his body gave him away to her, who knew his body inside out. He was listening. No, he was waiting. What for?
Suddenly, someone screamed in the cave and Caz jumped down from the altar. She moved her eyes to see him take hold of Merlin’s neck and slam his head hard on the rock, making the man go unconscious.
Noises were happening around her, and she stayed frozen until he came to her.
“Move, Salem,” he told her, and the stiff muscles in her neck screamed in relief. She scrambled up and looked around the cave, seeing the cloaked guys on the ground, knocked out. There were some other men in the cave, led by Baron, dressed in suits and wearing masks that looked like a bird’s face with a beak curving over the nose, protecting their identities. The suited group went about dragging the cloaked guys away, one of them picking up Melissa. The stranger turned to Salem. “I’ll get her medical care.”
“No,” Salem started, moving to protect her friend, but Baron intercepted her.
“Trust me, she’ll be safe.” Salem looked at him, turning to see Caz who nodded at her. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly.
One of the suited men, who looked to be in charge, gave a nod to the guy carrying Melissa. “Thank you. Please make sure she’s safe.”
The man left with Melissa, and the guy in charge looked at Baron and Caz, who stood next to her.
“Welcome to the society, Mr. Whitmore and Mr. van der Waal. You have both effectively finished your initiations. Please leave while we deal with this… nuisance.”
Caz picked her up again. “What about the drug?”
“It will flush out of her system in the next twenty-four hours,” the man looked at Salem. “For what it’s worth, my apologies to you, Miss Salazar. We knew your father very well, and cared for your family. Please take care.”
He nodded at the boys and Caz walked out the tunnel with her, Baron leading the way, helping her up the stairs and out in the open.
“A little later and you would’ve messed up, dude,” Caz told Baron, holding her close as they walked back.
Baron shrugged. “I got there on time, didn’t I? You’re fucking welcome.”
These two would never be friends, even though they were allies now.
“You okay?” Caz asked her, and she just looked up at him, unable to give words to everything. Physically, she was okay, but her head felt muddled.
“You can speak, Salazar,” Baron said, as though ordering her to do so would make her break her silence.
Caz pressed a kiss to her head. “It’s okay. She’s okay. She’ll just sleep and everything will be fine.” He seemed to be saying that to convince himself more than her.
She let it be as they walked back to the campus under the full moon, leaving the questions for tomorrow.
The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too.
—Vincent van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh