Nevermore, the Complete Series Read Free Page B

into dense forest and rock.
    “Where are we going?”
    “You will see. It is just a little further,” he said, gazing out the window at the scenery, although he must have seen it lots of times before, or so I assumed.
    I thought for a moment about just turning around. Had I been tricked by some serial killer or rapist in my moment of vulnerability from this morning's events? I glanced over at the stranger in my car for a brief moment; he seemed harmless enough, sitting there with his ever-present grin. I shook the thoughts from my mind for now and focused back onto the road and listened to the directions I was being given.
    I became increasingly anxious as we rode down the twisting, thin road. The asphalt suddenly evolved into a dirt road that felt like it went on for miles and miles ahead of us. I hadn't noticed the turn to our left until he pointed it out. I slowly jerked the car down the new path and we were soon approaching a tall, beautiful Victorian house planted in the middle of the blossoming foliage.
    “Where are we?” I asked in an awed voice.
    “My home,” he said pleasantly. “But, before we enter, I made you a promise. My name is Salem Young,” he explained bitterly, which by the look on his face I assumed he hoped I hadn't noticed.
    “You don't like your name?” I asked.
    “I suppose that is what you would say,” he answered, “it is somewhat contradictory.”
    “Contradictory to what?” I asked, confused.
    “You will find out soon enough,” he said. “Your name is Alexis Hobbs.”
    “I take it Karen told you that, too, did she?” I asked with a grimace.
    He ignored my question, climbed out of the car and quickly walked to my side, opened the door and offered me his hand.
    I thought for a moment before I reluctantly took his hand, barely noticing the difference in his skin's temperature. He smiled as he gracefully led me to the alabaster stairs. We climbed up the stairway and I stared, mystified, at the tall white doors. The windows were stained glass images of what I recognized to be Celtic knots in beautiful shades of blues and greens. Salem grasped the brass door handle and swiftly opened the large doors, revealing an immaculate living area. The walls were painted a dull gray that perfectly contrasted the white sectional sofa pushed up against the furthest wall. Behind the couch was a wide window overlooking a lake. In front of the couch lay a large black rug that covered the otherwise white tiled floor, and atop the rug was a rectangular glass coffee table. I was somewhat surprised not to see a TV anywhere.
    On the other side of the room was a vast bookshelf, every inch of which was crammed with books of all sizes. An armchair identical in color to the sectional sofa sat nestled in a small nook beside the bookcase. Beside the chair was a tall, silver floor lamp. As I was admiring the room, Salem came up behind me and grasped my shoulders. I jumped, startled by his touch, but relaxed as he spun me around toward a spiral staircase that led upstairs. It wasn't the staircase that caught my attention, but the large, white grand piano that sat to the right of it.
    “It's beautiful...” I said in a mere whisper. “Is your family rich or something?
    “What?” he looked shocked at my assumption, but his expression turned soft and he smiled as he seemed to do more often than not. “I don't live with my family.”
    “Then you are rich?” I laughed, staring at him in awe.
    “Not at all.”
    “Then how do you afford to live here?”
    “You'll find out soon enough,” he repeated and turned toward the kitchen, waving me to follow.
    Mahogany cabinets lined the back walls, and a black refrigerator and stove stood out amongst them. A small dining table was set against a broad window. The curtains were drawn, but the room was still bright despite there being no lights on.
    After I allowed myself to admire the house, I realized how soaked my feet still were. “Do you care if I take these off?”