Page 3 of Bitten By the Basilisk

“Purple?” Alice guessed, eyeing Mom’s lavender purse and amethyst-point pendant. Even the sweater beneath her plum-purple wool trench coat was a pinkish mauve.

Mom preened, grinning. “What can I say? It’s my color. So, how was the trip?”

“Surprisingly pleasant.” Her flight from Chicago to Hartford had been on time and uneventful. She briefly described her unusual seatmate on the bus ride from Hartford, keeping her voice low. She then thought to introduce Yōko to her mom, but a quick scan inside the terminal revealed the mysterious supe had already found another mode of transportation.

“I’ll be sure to let the staff know to expect her,” Mom assured her. “Let’s go get you settled and fed. I made your favorite for dinner.”

“Curry udon?” She groaned in anticipation, her mouth already watering. “I can’t wait.”

She followed her mom outside, where they waited to cross the street. Despite the windy weather, the area was bustling. Here and there among gaggles of tourists were seamlessly blended locals, whose self-maintained glamour Alice attempted to see through. She hardly ever got the chance to use her power to penetrate illusions and wasn’t very good at it.

Up the block a few car lengths was a burly taxi driver who effortlessly lifted enormous suitcases as though they were bags of cotton candy. After a moment of concentration, she saw him for what he really was—a gray-skinned troll.

Across the street, a short, peppy tour guide walked backward as they spoke to a group of human tourists, the air around them rippling like heat waves.

Alice was attempting to see through the tour guide’s glamour when the walk signal cycled on and the purr of an approaching motorcycle drew her attention.

Its long-limbed rider wore all black, from the boot he planted on the street to the full-face helmet on his head. A silver stripe on his tight-fitting armored jacket matched the pinstriping on his bike. He sat almost as tall as she stood, on what looked like an impressive ride.

His tinted visor was down, but as she crossed in front of him, he flipped it up to reveal a truly gorgeous pair of amber eyes that stared back rather pointedly—probably because she was gawking at him like a virgin having a sexual awakening. The first part wasn’t true, but the second seemed pretty certain, based on the way her heart raced and where she felt it the most.

Of course, a gust of wind decided right then to whip past, taking her scarf with it. She barely managed to catch it before it blew away, its length stretching toward the faceless rider, who now had both feet on the ground.

Was he about to catch it for me?

“Nice catch!” her mom exclaimed, laughing. “I guess it’s that time of year.”

With only a few seconds remaining on the walk timer, Alice hurried to the other side of the street before stopping to wrap her scarf around her neck, only more securely this time, her cheeks stinging at what a dolt she’d just been.

When she dared to cast one last glance at the street, the biker was accelerating through the crosswalk, his visor down again, but he sent her a nod that made her knees weak.

“Oh, I’ll be thinking about that tonight,” she whispered in an aside to herself.

She supposed she wouldn’t mind a fling during her stay, assuming she had a chance with someone that undoubtedly hot and almost certainly not human. She had only gotten the vaguest sense of his true nature—that he was shifted rather than glamoured and had some other, powerful form.

Alas, a fling was all she could offer. She had to hope that someday she would see her own red thread. Until then, she had to guard her heart.

Chapter Two

Silas

“Who are you?” Silas breathed.

She had to be a tourist, having emerged from the transit terminal with a four-wheeled suitcase gliding next to her. Her red scarf caught his eye first, before he noticed she was staring at him with the most arresting expression, as though he were a sinfully decadent slice of cake in a pastry shop window.

The attraction was intensely mutual, driving him to raise his visor so he could devour every detail of the lovely creature passing in front of him. High cheekbones, slanted eyes framed by thick lashes, and a small, plump mouth with glossy lips that were parted in fascination. The day’s high winds tossed her dark hair toward him, beckoning him to tear off his gloves and touch it.

She had a great sense of style, as put together as a model for a retail clothing magazine. Sensible boots and a warm jacket with a folded-down shearling collar. Her black jeans perfectly showcased her remarkably long legs and the slope of her hips, which he also wanted to grab, his fingers squeezing the bike’s handlebars in a crushing grip.

When the wind ripped her scarf from her neck and sent it toward him, he moved without thinking, jumping to his feet to snag it. Part of him was disappointed when she grabbed one end of it, as catching it for her would’ve been the perfect excuse to pull over and introduce himself.

However, his better sense told him not to get involved with a tourist, especially now. His kind’s annual multiday mating festival would begin tomorrow night, the first to be hosted in Indigo Cove since his father, Gabriel, had stepped down as Basilisk.

The role now ostensibly belonged to Silas, but his fitness as the nest’s new leader would be tested in the coming days. He couldn’t be seen shirking his responsibilities to cavort with a normie, regardless of his own desires.

Once the traffic light turned green, he flipped his visor back down and forced himself to continue on his way, sending her a farewell nod and grunting as a pang of regret gripped his heart.

He was still thinking about her and the coy glance she’d sent him from the sidewalk when he arrived at the Nest—a gated residential complex consisting of several deceptively modest buildings made to fit in with the town’s historic look.