Vendetta {The Serpents of Veilwood #1}

THIRTEEN - SERAPHINA

"I have a feeling this isn't your only car," I said.

"What gave it away?" Damian asked.

The car we were in was a silver convertible. It was sleek, and fast, and Damian drove it through the streets of Veilwood like a maniac. He sped through the dark, his hair whipping around in the wind, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

"You're driving it like you stole it," I answered, my eyes closed, my hair flowing.

I heard him laugh and I couldn't hold back my smile. The cool breeze caressed my face and a sense of calmness spread through me. I could see the stars clearly in the night sky, twinkling like they were laughing at me for sitting in a car with the boy I hated the most in the world.

Damian seemed more relaxed, less guarded. When I had seen him, his knuckles had been bandaged, his hair damp, and his shirt stained. His skin had been slick with sweat.

He had been hurt.

I opened my eyes and looked over at him. His lips were curled up in a smile, a content look on his face. I wanted to reach out and touch his hair, feel the silky strands. I wanted to run my fingers down the column of his throat, feel his pulse.

I wanted to be the one who made it stop.

"A year ago, when I got part of my inheritance, I was very obsessed with cars and bikes, anything that had a motor. I bought the latest models and tear them apart just to put them together again," Damian said. "You could say I'm some sort of collector," he added, taking a sharp turn and heading toward the woods.

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen," he answered.

Two years before that, he had murdered my father in cold blood. At sixteen, Damian Delacroix had been a killer.

My hands clutched the edge of my seat as he drove us deeper into the woods. There were no buildings, no lights, no other cars.

"Where are we going?" I asked, glancing at him.

He took a deep breath, his gaze focused on the road. "To my home."

My chest constricted. This was a bad idea. Being alone with him, was a really bad idea. My mouth felt dry, my skin hot.

"Do you not want to?" he asked. "You said-"

"I mean, I did say I wanted to be in your room," I said. "I didn't know you didn't live in the academy. I assumed with you being the head of house Sage-"

"Technically, no student is allowed outside the academy," Damian said. "But I'm not just a student, I'm a Delacroix."

He pulled up to a wrought iron gate and stopped. He leaned out the window just as the gates swung open.

"Welcome to my Manor, little ghost," Damian said, driving the car past the gate.

I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped me.

The Manor was lit up, like a beacon.

There was a fountain in the front, the water illuminated by the golden lights. The building itself was four stories tall, the front made of glass, the walls painted red. It looked like it was out of a movie.

"Wow," I whispered, leaning back.

Damian parked the car, and we walked up the steps. A woman stood in the doorway. She was in a maid's outfit, a pleasant smile on her face. "Mr. Delacroix, welcome home."

"Thank you, Marie," he answered, stepping inside.

I followed him, my jaw dropping. The inside of the manor was just as impressive. The floor was marble, the walls a pristine white, the furniture a mix of dark and gold.