She receives the flowers with one hand while placing the other on his forearm. He beams at the contact like he’s a golden retriever puppy who’s just been told “good boy.”
“Thank you, Finley. You look beyond handsome.”
He quirks his head to the side, but then he seems to let whatever it was go.
“Here, Lor. Will you put these in the vase on the kitchen table?”
Finley’s eyes follow Lucy’s stare and land on me like lightning striking a metal rod in the sand. Even from across the well-lit room, I see something flash across his eyes. He shakes his head as if to shake off a thought.
On unsteady legs, I close the distance between me and the couple. “Hi, Finley. It’s good to see you again.” Even my voice is trembling. What is wrong with me? Am I getting sick?
“You as well, Lorelei. What are your plans while I whisk your sister away?”
I’m stuck on the way he says my name to my face, addressing me for who I am for the first time. It does something funny to my brain.
“Er, thank you,” I say without thinking.
“Thank you?”
Wait. What did he say?
Lucy nudges me, and I snap out of whatever the mess that was.
“She’s going to watch a documentary on Ted Bundy,” Lucy answers what must have been a question Finley asked.
He nods with a smile, those twinkling blue eyes focusing on me. “Fascinating. American serial killers are a different breed. I should introduce you to a few that we’ve had in Korsa.”
I choke.
“Not in person!” he corrects himself, though that’s not what I thought he meant. I’m just over here dying under his intense eyes and the offer to discover new serial killers to dissect theirbrains. “Just the records and how we dealt out justice through our system.”
“Our system is messed up. We could probably learn from your process. Do you realize how many innocents we have jailed over the years? It’s been—”
Lucy clears her throat, interrupting me.
“Right,” I say, flicking my eyes between the two of them. Finley looks engrossed and slightly perplexed while Lucy is frowning. Is it me or is it getting too warm in here? “Well, you two should probably be on your way!”
“Yes, let’s get going,” she chimes in, her gaze shifting between me and Finley, who still hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
Finley takes my hand and applies a gentle kiss to my knuckles as I stand there like an ice sculpture teetering on the edge of melting under the presence of a burning star.
“A pleasure, Lorelei. Thanks for entrusting me with your lovely twin.”
“Mhmm,” is all I manage to get out before finally gaining mobility and ripping my hand out from his. Not because of an ick, but because of the lack thereof.
Lucy guides Finley out the door, taking one last look at me. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
The door clicks shut, and their footsteps rescind down the stairs.
My head spins, my heart races, and judging by the sudden spike of heat in my body, I think I have a fever.
I’ve got to stay far away from Finley Andersson.
That man is carrying some sort of eternal sickness, and he’s spreading it to me every time I’m in his presence.
Chapter Eight
Finley
