Page 42 of Bitten By the Basilisk

Oh shit. That the two men were serpent-folk seemed obvious, as they had access to Silas’s apartment, but they definitely wouldn’t be expecting to find a total stranger sitting in his kitchen.

She doubted she would be in trouble, but there were far less awkward ways to meet someone, especially someone who had just spent the night.

“Wait,” the second voice said. “Whose is this?”

The first voice didn’t answer, his silence pervading long enough for her to realize they’d noticed her coat and boots by the door.

“Explains why Boss didn’t answer my messages,” the first voice said before sighing heavily. “Wish me luck.”

“You’ll need it,” the second voice said. The crackle of a paper bag and quiet footfalls signaled the voice’s owner was headed her way.

Her body tensed as she wrestled with indecision, the urge to stand up warring with the urge to make herself as small as possible. Whoever entered the kitchen had to be a member of his nest, someone he trusted, who knew him well—much better than she did.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with short sandy-brown hair appeared from the hall, carrying a paper grocery bag in one arm. He was handsome, around Silas’s apparent age, but his features were more rugged, his brow larger and his jaw squarer. His clothes were similar to what she’d seen Silas wear—jeans and a thick dark-purple hooded pullover printed with the words “Indigo Cove University.”

He froze in place the second he saw her, giving her plenty of time to note the intense copper color of his irises.

She smiled uncertainly as she slowly raised her hand in greeting. “Hi.”

He didn’t move a muscle except to flick his gaze about, as if he’d see the answer to whatever unknown question occupied him. “Hello there.”

“I’m Alice.”

His eyebrows twitched. “Bruno.”

As with Silas, her special sight confirmed what she’d already suspected. Bruno was a shifter, almost certainly a serpent-folk, and if his shifted form worked like Silas’s, his scales would match his eyes.

“Coffee’s ready,” she told him, briefly lifting her mug.

He glanced at it, then back to her. “You a…local, Alice?”

She realized he was trying to determine whether she was in on the “masquerade” that the town’s witches maintained. “My mom is. She runs Renart Salon and Spa.”

Bruno instantly relaxed. “Oh. I love that place. I swear Kenji could massage stone into clay.”

His pleasant response diffused some of her uneasiness, a genuine smile quirking her lips. “I imagine he could.”

Bruno approached the island counter from the other side and set down the grocery bag. “So, you’re a kitsune, is that right?”

“I’m descended from one. It’s…not the same.” As she gave him her answer, hating how inadequate it made her feel, he reached into the bag and pulled out a sweating six-pack of bottled alcohol that he carried to the refrigerator.

“My kind is also descended from…greater beings,” he replied, setting the alcohol inside the fridge before closing the appliance. “Various snake deities that got frisky with humans.”

Snickering, she found herself appreciating that Bruno had described his kind and hers as similar. It made her feel…included.

“Happens a lot, doesn’t it?” she said. “Supernaturals getting frisky with humans.”

Bruno nodded as he fetched more mugs from the same cabinet where Alice had found hers. “That it does.”

A deep voice that sounded like Silas, only gruffer, echoed from a distant room. “This time is completely different.”

“How so?” asked Bruno’s associate, the volume of their conversation growing as they drew closer.

“I feel it, Nic. Much stronger than before. What happened then doesn’t even come close.”

The other voice, Nic, sighed. “I’m only saying—our instincts don’t always serve us well.”

Silas entered the kitchen area without responding, closely followed by another tall male serpent-folk. A black silk robe flowed from Silas’s shoulders, the front hanging open, and he still wore the sweatpants he’d fallen asleep in.