Chapter 13
For several seconds, I remain perfectly still beneath the reading table, as if refusing to move might somehow restore the version of reality where Silas has not just caught me trespassing in his uncle’s private library.
The room is silent except for the slow ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere beyond the paneled walls.
Above me, Silas waits with a calm patience that feels more threatening than if he’d started shouting.
Reluctantly, I finally crawl out and find him standing on the opposite side of the table.
His arms are folded across his chest, his expression quietly furious.
It should make him less attractive. Instead, the cold restraint only sharpens everything about him—the silky sweep of his hair, the severe line of his mouth, the dark intensity of his eyes.
Apparently, even my imminent ruin can’t stop me from noticing how ridiculously hot he is.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I say, straightening slowly, brushing dust from my jeans.
His gaze flicks to the restricted shelves, then to the pilfered book still in my hand.
“It looks like you broke into my uncle’s house to steal from him.”
“Okay, you’re right.” I sigh. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”
I can already see the sequence of events unfolding.
He calls Lucien. Lucien calls the university.
I am expelled from SFU before I even finish my first month of classes.
Josh remains missing, Eleanor remains dead, and every answer I’ve fought so hard for disappears behind gates I’ll never be allowed through again.
I glance toward the door, wondering just how quickly I could reach it. I’m fast. Silas is a starter on the lacrosse team, sure, but I’m not too shabby either. If I get the jump on him, I might have a chance. Maybe if I—
“Don’t,” Silas says.
“I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“You were thinking about it,” he says.
“Are you going to turn me in?”
His eyes move over my face, unreadable. “That depends on whether you plan to explain why you’re here.”
“You already know why.” I lift my chin. “It’s for Josh. I’m looking for books he read before he disappeared. I need to understand what happened to him.”
“And naturally, you decided burglary was the next logical step in your plan.”
“I tried the campus library first,” I say.
“A shocking display of restraint.”
“They told me most of the Salem’s Fall occult collection Josh was studying was transferred here.
” I gesture toward the shelves. “Professor Endicott said that’s what Josh was researching before he disappeared.
My roommate, too, before she was killed.
Apparently, she was helping Josh with his game research. ”
Something subtle passes through his expression at Professor Endicott’s name.
“You spoke to Bea?”
“Last week.” I nod. “And now she’s suddenly on an indefinite sabbatical, whatever the hell that means.”
“You suspect foul play?”
“It does seem rather suspicious everyone who seems to know about these books winds up disappearing, dead, or on sabbatical, don’t you think?” I ask, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.
For a moment, he says nothing. His eyes narrow as he looks back at the book I’m holding. “You came with Rowan, then,” he says, jaw clenching. “He’s a reckless fool.”
There’s more fury in those four words than he’s directed at me since finding me beneath the table. I don’t understand it. I’m the one who stole the book. Why is he so angry with Rowan?
“This was all my idea,” I say, not wanting to implicate Rowan.
Snitches get stitches and all that, but more importantly, Rowan has turned out to be a friend.
I’m not about to get him in trouble with Lucien or the university.
“He’s here meeting Lucien. They have university business to discuss. He had nothing to do with this.”
Silas lets out a humorless laugh.
“You must think I’m a fucking imbecile,” he says. “So what was the plan? Ashcroft plays hero, keeps my uncle occupied, and you steal whatever you can carry.”
I have to give the guy credit. He’s far smarter than you’d expect with that pretty face of his.
“I’m… borrowing.”
“Borrowing?” He snorts. “You snuck in through a back door, hid from the owners, and lifted books from a priceless restricted collection of ancient texts.”
“Gee. When you say it like that, I guess it does sound bad,” I say.
“It is bad.”
I brace myself for him to call for someone. Lucien. The police. But instead, he walks past me, closes the library door, and turns the brass key in the lock. The click echoes through the room, sending my pulse skittering.
Suddenly, I remember the fear of weeks ago when I’d been kidnapped and dragged into the woods. Now I’m all alone in a remote gated home with my attacker. In that moment, I realize I’ve made a grave miscalculation and somehow allowed myself to get trapped by Silas Blackhollow.
“What—what are you doing?” I ask, voice trembling, hoping he can’t see how panicked I am.
“Preventing anyone else from walking in, obviously.”
“Why?”
“You’ve already trespassed.” He shrugs. “Sending you back empty-handed would only compound the mistake.”
At first, I can only stare in shock. This is… bizarre. It feels like he’s playing some kind of game, but I can’t figure out what.
“Wait—you’re serious? You’re letting me stay?”
One dark eyebrow lifts. “A little slow for an academic scholarship student, aren’t you?”
“I don’t get it.” I shake my head, unable to make sense of him. “Why are you helping me?”
“I’m not helping you.”
I study him, still searching for the trap. “You just locked the door so no one catches me stealing from your uncle,” I point out. “That seems an awful lot like helping.”
“Not exactly,” he says. “I’m hoping you’ll find something in those books that will succeed where I’ve clearly failed. Maybe they’ll finally convince you to leave town before you get yourself into real trouble.”
I frown. “What do you care? I thought you hated me.”
“Why in the world would you think that?”
I almost laugh.
“Besides the obvious?” I ask. “You’re a complete asshole every time I see you. You keep trying to scare me away.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “And let’s not forget the masked kidnapping where you attacked me with a knife. Does any of that sound familiar?”
Silas’s face gives away nothing.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, whatever. Play it however you want,” I say. “But don’t pretend you’ve been welcoming to me.”
He looks briefly toward the ceiling, as though summoning patience. “I don’t hate you, Mercer,” he says. “Hate requires a level of attention you simply don’t warrant. The truth is, I rarely think about you at all.”
Annoyingly, his words sting more than they should—not that I’d ever let him know that.
“Ouch.” I press a hand to my chest. “Well, there go my wedding plans.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. It’s almost imperceptible, but I catch it.
“Ten minutes,” he says. “Take what you need and don’t make a mess.”
I return to the shelves and pull down a second volume, Ceremonies of the Veil. A few more scans of the shelves turn up nothing else mentioned in the library book’s footnotes. I slip the two books I found into my tote bag as Silas watches from his post beside the locked door.
“I’ll take good care of them.” I glance at him, a new thought occurring to me. “So—”
“No.”
“But I haven’t asked anything yet,” I say.
“You were about to.”
I lean one hip against the table. “I was just going to say that you’re surprisingly human around your parents.”
“Is there a question there?”
“Just an observation,” I say. “You actually smile and laugh with them.”
“I’m aware,” he says drily. “These are normal human reactions. Certainly, you’ve seen them before in your life?”
“I’ve just never seen you do them.”
“Well, then, you don’t really know me at all. Do you, Mercer?”
I realize he’s right. I’ve spent the last few weeks convincing myself I know exactly who Silas Blackhollow is, but maybe I’ve only ever known the version he wanted me to see.
“Why do they want you to leave Salem’s Fall?” I ask.
His gaze sharpens.
“Eavesdropping, were we?”
“Sorry.” I shrug. “It’s hard not to when you’re hiding beneath a table.”
He lets out a slow breath and some of the familiar coldness slips from his face. There’s something unguarded in his dark eyes.
“My parents are wary about me spending too much time in Salem’s Fall.
” His gaze drifts toward the bookshelves.
“After I graduated from high school, they moved to Europe. They’ve spent years trying to convince me to join them.
They have their… reasons.” A faint, humorless smile touches his mouth.
“And I have my own reasons for staying. We don’t see eye to eye on that. ”
“And Lucien stays here with you?” I ask.
“Yes, along with my aunt.”
I think of Damien’s warning.
“But your parents don’t like that he’s the one you’re around?”
“He’s family,” he says simply.
“Why not go with your parents? Sardinia sounds nice.”
“So does silence.” Then he smiles, and I realize he’s teasing me. I didn’t know Silas was capable of joking. “My mother thinks distance solves everything,” he explains. “My father thinks money does. Between them, they’re accustomed to most problems surrendering to their will.”
It occurs to me this is the first real conversation we’ve had where Silas isn’t insulting me, threatening me, or holding a knife on me. I know I shouldn’t push my luck. He’s already been far more generous than I ever expected. But I can’t stop myself from asking about my brother one more time.
“Are you sure there’s nothing you can tell me about Josh?”
Just like that, the mask slides back into place.
“I told you. I didn’t know him.”
“My brother doesn’t lie,” I say. “He told me you were close.”
“What I can tell you is that your brother had a dangerous habit of digging into things he didn’t understand,” he says. “Rather like you. Perhaps it’s hereditary.”
“You’re not answering my question.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting,” he says.
“Why won’t you tell me the truth?”