Truthfully, I’m not sure it is nice. Every instinct is telling me something is off. Hayes has never mentioned these people to me. Not once. And I knoweverything there is to know about Hayden Basileus Vassilios.
So who the hell are they?
And what are they doing in his house?
“Are you… Hayes’s family?” I ask, eyeing them.
Am I finally meeting some elusive relatives? I wasn’t sure they even existed.
The woman, Selene, doesn’t answer. She just stares, stone-faced and unreadable.
“Something like that,” Nikolas says. The two of them trade a glance, quick and quiet, like they’re used to communicating without speaking.
I notice Nikolas still hasn’t moved from the doorway, like he’s blocking me from entry.
“Can I come in? Hayes told me to come over.”
After a brief, measuring pause, Nikolas steps aside and opens the door wider.
“Did he?” he says, more observation than question. “Well then. We wouldn’t want to keep Hayden waiting.”
There’s a trace of something in his tone. Not mocking exactly, but not totally neutral either. He almost seems… irritated by me. Though I can’t think of any reason why. I’ve known the guy for all of two seconds.
Either way, I find it odd the way he says Hayes’s name, like it means something different to him than it does to me.
I hesitate for half a second, then step inside. The moment I’m in the foyer, the light hits, and I get a full look at their outfits.
And… wow.
Nikolas wears a long black trench coat that hugs his broad, muscular frame like it was tailored just for him. His dark pants are sleek, tucked into heavy, steel-toed boots. He’s like a cross between a sexy biker and a contract killer.
Selene’s dressed similarly. A black latex catsuit clings to her like a second skin, glinting under the lights like oiled leather. Matching boots rise all the way up her thighs.
Other than the fact they’re both in black, it’s not exactly what you’d call proper mourning attire. They look like they just walked straight off the set ofThe Matrix.
“Uh, are you guys going somewhere?” I ask.
“No,” Selene says, blinking slow and blank. “Why do you ask?”
I let out a quick, forced laugh. “No reason.”
Okay. This is officially weird.
I head toward the kitchen, hoping they’ll go back to doing whatever they were doing before I arrived, but instead, they fall into step behind me. Nikolas on my right. Selene on my left. They’re like twin shadows, flanking me in perfect sync, close enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
Something about it feels… deliberate.
As if I’m being herded.
Like prey.
“Oh, you don’t have to come with me. I’ll just hang in the kitchen until Hayes comes down,” I say,turning to pause. They stop, too—at the exact same time.
“We don’t mind,” Nikolas replies, his voice velvet-smooth, a sly, almost-smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. “Do we, Selene?”
“Not at all,” she says.
I perch on one of the stools at the kitchen island, trying not to fidget under their scrutiny. I can already tell Selene clearly doesn’t like me for some reason. Can’t say I’m a fan either.
