Page 22 of Bitten By the Basilisk

“Oh, I…” She sighed. “I’m too busy to paint anymore. And too broke.”

Were art supplies that expensive? He didn’t truly know but assumed that was the case. “What’s keeping you busy?”

“Just a lot of long hours at work. Gotta pay the rent.”

“What sort of work?”

“Oh, it’s not that interesting,” she said with a self-effacing laugh.

He turned his head toward her, gesticulating for emphasis. “Tell me anyway.”

“You really want to know? Even though we’re just hooking up?”

Silas couldn’t quite describe how her response made him feel, but it wasn’t good. Shouldn’t he be grateful to know now what to expect rather than find out too late?

“Is it wrong to want to know more about you?”

“I…suppose not, no.” Her shy tone intrigued him.

“I’ll bet you my job is more boring than yours,” he prodded.

She gave a short laugh. “Well, I’m in marketing, so most of my day is spent managing social media for the clients assigned to me. The rest is emails and analyzing campaign data. I thought I’d get to do more creative design, but anything I make gets revised beyond recognition.”

“That does sound pretty unfulfilling,” he had to agree. In fact, it sounded soul-crushing.

“Hopefully not for much longer. I’m expecting a promotion that’ll give me more creative opportunities. You?”

Silas found himself downplaying his job, as it sounded more impressive than his day-to-day actually was. “I work for my family’s company. We’re in the mining business, but I mostly read long reports and sit in long meetings.”

“Oof. Yeah, you might have me beat.”

“Let’s call it a tie.”

Next, he drove them a short distance to a three-story office building with a mural of Indigo Cove’s famous lighthouse, painted to fill the gap between the building’s stacked windows. A tree blocked the light from a nearby streetlamp, so he had them get off his motorcycle, then lifted the front end to shine the headlight upward.

Alice spun around to gape at him, her eyes wide within her open visor.

“Art’s that way, kitten,” he teased, gesturing with his chin toward the building.

“R-right.” She spun back around to observe the art, her head tilted back.

This second mural had more of a stenciled look—solid white on the building’s red bricks. Alice wondered aloud how the image had such clean lines despite the uneven surface.

“I’m almost done,” she assured him a short moment later, seeming flustered.

“Take your time. I can hold this as long as you need.”

Her mic picked up the barest whisper. “God, that’s so hot.”

He would’ve smiled, but her comment went straight to his thickening erection.

Their next destination was south, by the water. Once they reached the boardwalk, he pulled over to point out some of the popular spots.

“That place looks interesting,” Alice said through the intercom, pointing at Brightwell’s Antiques and Rare Books.

“It’s run by a powerful artificer and his daughter,” he explained. “They’re more than willing to sell mundane items to normies, but they mostly sell the magical variety to supes.”

On occasion, the mines his family owned provided Brightwell’s with the raw metals, minerals, and precious stones they required to create some of the artifacts they sold. In fact, the signet ring he wore had been forged for his great-uncle, a previous Basilisk, by Darius Brightwell himself.