Page 71 of Bitten By the Basilisk

“You’re certain you don’t want another night in my bed?” he softly asked, edging closer. He swore he could smell her slick.

She didn’t respond right away, her throat flexing as she swallowed. “Yes, I’m certain. Do you accept my challenge?”

Though his fangs and cocks ached terribly, Silas could give no other answer. “I do.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Alice

After Silas saw her off and a driver took her home, Alice entered her mom’s apartment to find her mom had already gone to bed, so she was able to take care of reuploading the file without her mom sternly admonishing her.

Before getting ready for bed, she checked the file she’d previously uploaded. It was indeed corrupted, but she discovered the file had been edited in the early afternoon.

Standard procedure was to download a local copy rather than edit it in the cloud and run the risk of introducing errors, so whoever had accessed it was the one who had corrupted it, likely someone working from a laptop with shitty internet service.

And Paul had been out of the office all day.

Though the time was nearing midnight and she was exhausted, Alice spent thirty minutes composing an email to her skip, Mark, requesting “clarification” around the number of revisions allowed on a project, the firm’s PTO policy, and best practices for maintaining file integrity.

Though she had little hope that Mark would actually do anything to rein in her manager, she knew she had to try before escalating things further.

She then carefully packed away the jewelry Silas had lent her, removed her glamour, and changed into a sleep shirt—as well as yet another new pair of panties. For once, she was glad she had packed an insane number of them, although her mom did have a washer and dryer.

Thankfully, she passed out the second her head hit the pillow; otherwise, she would have lain there kicking herself for declining another night of toe-curling orgasms.

The next morning, she woke to a home-cooked breakfast with her mom, who hardly ate anything because she was listening so raptly as Alice recounted her previous evening.

Silas had texted her in the wee hours of the morning, having stayed at Seacliff until the banquet had ended and the setup had been broken down and removed. He’d expected he would sleep through most of the morning, so he’d invited both her and her mom to tour the Hallowe’en Week booths in Town Square in the afternoon.

He had also remembered that her mom’s play was opening that night and asked to join Alice in the audience. She happily agreed to both.

While her mom was at another rehearsal, she got dressed in a mint-green knit sweater and a terra-cotta pleated skirt, wrapped her lucky scarf around her neck, and took herself to the historic district, where she once again admired the enormous mural on the outside of the maritime museum, this time in full sunshine.

Although she enjoyed the inside of the museum as well, she spent most of her morning at the Philmore Gallery of Art, appreciating the works on display and contemplating whether she could paint something worthy of the gallery’s regular art auctions. Perhaps that nighttime view from the lighthouse…

She and her mom met up for lunch at a nearby diner before spending well over an hour browsing the shelves at The Last Chapter, where the ghost of the bookshop’s original owner gave her several recommendations.

Just as Alice was debating how many books she could reasonably fit into her suitcase for her trip home, Silas texted to say he was awake and ready to come pick them up.

His Bentley appeared outside the bookshop moments later. When he got out to greet them, looking unbearably handsome in a long, tailored peacoat, a black sweater, and black slacks, her mom excitedly dug her elbow into Alice’s side as if Alice didn’t also have a functioning pair of eyes.

“I know, Mom,” she hissed. “Cut it out.”

“Beautiful weather today,” Silas cheerily observed as he stepped onto the sidewalk. He kissed Alice on her cheek, sending tingles down her neck, and whispered into her ear, “Although, not as beautiful as you in that sexy skirt.”

While she recovered from what his deep drawl did to her, he turned to her mom and shook her hand. “Mrs. York, nice to see you again. You’ve been doing well, I hope?”

“I’ve been fantastic, thank you,” Mom replied, sounding almost giddy. “And please, call me Grace.”

“You’ve raised a lovely daughter, Grace.” He glanced at Alice. “I’m aware I haven’t known her long, but the more I learn about her, the more I want to know and the deeper I fall.”

Alice could only stare at him, her cheeks quickly growing warmer.

Her mom giggled as she bumped her arm against Alice’s. “I do think she’s wasting her potential at that marketing firm⁠—”

“Mom!” Alice harshly whispered, sending her mom a quelling look.

“—but thank you for cherishing her.”