The Basilisk's Lover Read online

  The Basilisk’s Lover (Fairview Chronicles 8)

  Alexa Piper

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

  BIN: 009925-03220

  Formats Available:

  Adobe PDF, Epub

  Mobi/PRC

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  315 N. Centre St.

  Martinsburg, WV 25404

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Jean Cooper

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  Adult Sexual Content

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  Table of Contents

  The Basilisk’s Lover (Fairview Chronicles 8)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  Glossary

  Alexa Piper

  The Basilisk’s Lover (Fairview Chronicles 8)

  Alexa Piper

  Cy is not the kind of guy who wants true love. Life and work keep him busy, and while he's happily gay, he's never yet ventured into relationship territory with anyone. When a tall, dark, and very handsome stranger talks to Cy on the night train to Fairview, his life starts taking a different turn.

  Leon is a basilisk, a snake-demon. He is also a teacher and used to hiding his true nature, that dark secret that has always kept him apart from others. When he meets Cy, what Leon thought would just be a fling quickly turns into more. Cy and Leon may be from different worlds, but with a dangerous creature feeding on the students at Fairview University where Leon teaches, those worlds soon collide.

  Cy finds himself pulled into a world of mages and shapeshifters, of seductive snake-demons. To help find what is murdering students at the university, Cy, along with the St. John Investigations team, decides to go undercover. He ends up a university student once more -- and Leon is his hot teacher.

  Cy will need to come to grips with the supernatural and with his feelings for Leon. If opposites truly attract, the cold-blooded basilisk and the warm-blooded human might just find their way to a happily-ever-after, but not before they figure out what haunts Fairview University -- and put a stop to it.

  Chapter One

  The train rattled and hummed with that train noise that was so well suited to becoming just background static, a near invisible pressure on every passenger’s eardrums. Yet, it was loud enough to pull Cy from his daze every other five minutes or so which was probably a good thing, considering that Fairview was the next stop. The train was less than a third full, quiet, and Cy was tired.

  Cy had meant to take an earlier train out of Morrowvale, but then he’d been fool enough to answer his work phone and had spent half an hour talking to one of his clients about another stained-glass window and what it was supposed to look like, and could Cy get it done very soon, please. He’d told the client it would get done as soon as he could humanly manage it, and he’d absolutely come out to take a few measurements. Which he had done, and then the client had just talked and talked about what she wanted in her new window, and Cy had nodded and smiled as he downed no less than three espressos from her fancy machine.

  And now it was late, the world outside the train car was ink black apart from the occasional glow in the distance that marked out a lone house or a road. The artificial light that lit the inside of the car was grating on the eyes. Cy looked out, though the windows were more like dull mirrors, showing him his reflection, washed-out and pale. He was beginning to feel another wave of tiredness come over him.

  “Long day?”

  At first, Cy wasn’t sure he’d been spoken to. He turned his face away from the window and immediately found the speaker’s gaze meeting his, bronze eyes inquisitive, face curious, and a smile playing at the corners of the man’s lips. He sat diagonally across from Cy, a book open on his lap. One long finger was teasing the pages.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said. His voice was smooth and reminded Cy of the warm hues of the reds he loved to use, never mind how expensive they were because it took gold to give the glass that special shade of red.

  “No, it’s fine,” Cy said. “And it was a long day.”

  The man’s smile stretched a bit at that, which drew Cy’s eyes to the lips, rosy pink with coral undertones. The man’s lips looked very soft.

  “Hm, those are the worst,” he said. “Are you going back home?”

  A part of Cy’s mind tried alerting him to the fact that a complete stranger was striking up a conversation with him on a near-empty night train. Even if that stranger was the kind of pretty that easily drew Cy’s attention, the man could still be a perfect weirdo. Heavens knew Cy had hooked up with some weirdos over the years. Except this guy was reading, and a glance to the book in his lap told Cy the man was reading Homer in the original Greek, which struck Cy as even odder than the pretty stranger’s interest in him.

  “No,” Cy said. “I’m visiting my sister.” At least that way, if the stranger was the murderous kind of weirdo, he’d know Cy was expected, even if he wasn’t. This was a surprise visit, and Cy had the generalized, uncertain feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would end up just as surprised as his sister by the end of it. That was a whole different can of wiggly worms that he didn’t want to dwell on just now.

  The stranger nodded and closed his book after running one of those long fingers down the center where the signatures were glued to the spine. He didn’t even use a bookmark. “That’s nice. Family is so precious,” the stranger said.

  “Clearly you don’t have any siblings,” Cy commented. His voice sounded a bit drier than he liked. He told himself that was because he was tired.

  The stranger tilted his head. He had perfect, tawny skin and ink-black hair which he kept long enough for a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. He had no accent that Cy could detect, spoke instead cleanly and clearly like someone who’d been moved around too much as a child or someone parked in some exclusive boarding school for most of their adolescent life. He didn’t look exactly Asian either. Even the coarse hair had a bit of a wave to it, and the eyes, while almond-shaped, lacked the monolid Cy would have associated with someone of Asian descent. The closer Cy looked, the odder the stranger seemed.

  “You’re right, I don’t,” the man said. “But I imagine it would be nice. Do you not like your sister?” One of his eyebrows rose, and he turned his upper body toward Cy to show interest.

  Cy rolled his shoulders. “Sure, I do.” Except I don’t trust she always makes the smartest decisions. “But younger sisters are just born knowing how to get on your nerves.” By being plain stupid or pretending to be. “You read Greek?” Cy asked, indicating the Odyssey with his chin.

  The man looked at the book and back to Cy. “I do. I also speak it. Miláte epísis Elliniká?”

  “Uhm, sorry? I know the letters, but that’s it,” Cy said. “Classics professor mom, you see.”

  The stranger smiled. “I apologize for presuming,” he said. “I just asked if you spoke Greek, which you answered all the same.”

  Cy cleared his throat. He could feel himself blush at the sight of that smile, sharp and soft as a line drawn onto a sheet of pale glass. And those pretty bronze eyes and that voice like red glass warmed by sunlight didn’t hurt either.

  “I do like hearing it spoken,” Cy said. “It’s a melodic language, you know.” He shrugged. “Just listening to someone read the Odyssey out loud has to be more fun than sitting through a dinner lecture on it.”

  The stranger chuckled. “I wouldn’t know, never having experienced a dinner lecture.” He straightened in his seat. “My name is Leon.”

  He held out his hand, and Cy shook it. The skin was cool and dry, very smooth. “Cyril.”

  Leon smiled. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cyril,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Cy said. “Nice to meet you. You live in Fairview?”

  Leon shrugged. “Not as such. But I have business there. I’m a guest lecturer.”

  Cy nodded. “So you only ever give dinner lectures about the Odyssey?”

  Leon chuckled. It was a warm, comforting sound, like the crackling of a fire. “Har
dly. If anything, organic chemistry.” He leaned his head on the hand Cy had just shaken, but his eyes remained fixed on Cy’s. “I just like reading.”

  Damn, but he looks young for a professor. “Everyone likes reading,” Cy said. He really wasn’t in his best conversational form this evening.

  Leon’s eyes flickered, and he ran them down Cy’s body, up again. “That has not been my experience. Would you like to get some dinner once we get to the city, tell me all about what things you like to read?”

  Cy wasn’t sure, but that voice of Leon’s had gone a shade darker, deeper, the red of velvety rose petals. He could feel that voice brushing over his skin, stirring something within. Cy’s mouth was watering, and not because he hadn’t eaten in hours.

  “I --”

  The conductor announced their imminent arrival in Fairview Central then. Cy had completely missed that the darkness outside had shifted to artificial light, the brightness of the city eating the night away. The train was slowing. Cy could feel that in his body, but it wasn’t why his heart was beating so fast all of a sudden.

  “Cyril,” Leon said. He worked the word over in his mouth, stroking the syllables with his tongue and caressing the ‘r,’ giving it a lilting roll. It worked like a kind of spell that drew Cy’s attention and made the blood rush to his crotch.

  “Just a quick bite,” Cy said. “And I should text my sister.” He pulled out his phone, pretended to be typing a message, just in case Leon was not a harmless, well-mannered chemistry lecturer and something else entirely. Although maybe he is just a harmlessly horny chemistry lecturer.

  “Wonderful,” Leon said, his voice brightening with excitement. He stood and pulled his bag from the overhead compartment, zipped his book away in a side pocket. Cy took in Leon’s body, long and lean. “Yours?” Leon said, bronze eyes meeting Cy’s expectantly. Leon was pointing at Cy’s bag in the overhead compartment.

  “Ah, yes, thanks,” he said, even as Leon pulled it down effortlessly and put it on the empty seat next to Cy. Cy put his phone away and stood. Leon was taller than he, but not by much. The train rattled to a slow stop.

  “Welcome to Fairview,” Leon said.

  Cy found his eyes drawn to the other man’s lips all over again, that beautiful blend of pink and coral, that seductively smooth skin. “Right, welcome to Fairview.” He had to look away and hid it by reaching for his bag. But as close as Leon had been, there was no way he would have missed Cy’s blush.

  * * *

  Leon was glad he had given in to the temptation of the gorgeous human who had distracted him from his book for the better part of two hours. Leon was glad he’d talked to him. The man was in his late twenties, early thirties maybe, and Leon wanted to run his hand through the chocolate brown hair that reached a little past the human’s ears. It looked invitingly soft.

  What Leon also wanted to do was taste the air with his tongue, get a better sense of what the human was feeling. But as they walked to the train’s doors, there were too many people, and then at the platform and the station, there were even more of them. So instead, Leon looked up at the arching iron roof of the station, the beams visible in the warm lamp glow.

  “Fairview Central Station has all the charm of the roaring twenties, doesn’t it?” Leon said.

  Cyril turned his blue eyes to Leon. “I never thought about it that way. But I guess it’s always been a big hub. Where are you from?”

  That was a difficult question, so Leon chose to evade it. “I travel a lot. I also lecture a lot at various universities. It keeps the mind sharp, you know.”

  Cyril nodded. “So… organic chemistry.”

  Leon wished he could stare at everyone in the station all at once, make them stop with the force of his gaze, then finally he’d fully taste Cyril’s emotions with a flick of his serpent’s tongue. “All the funny little molecules that have carbon in them.” He looked back at the sky past the ironwork of the station. “And reactions such as fermentation, of course, which gives us wine among other things.”

  “That sounds less dry than the relationship between Odysseus and Penelope,” Cyril said.

  Leon laughed out loud. “I myself quite prefer wine to an absent husband.” He looked to Cyril. “But then, who wouldn’t?”

  The human blushed very prettily, the deep pink easily visible in his sun-kissed skin. Leon could think of about a half dozen other things that would deepen that blush. “So what type of food do you like?” Cyril asked as they walked out of the station through the large stone atrium. The entrance had impressive Roman sandstone arches and a high roof, which Leon appreciated, though not as much as his current company.

  Leon shrugged. “I’ll try everything. You sound as though you have something in mind?”

  Cyril looked to the right. “If we walk down that way, we’ll go past a nice selection of places. You can say what you want about the Fairview weather, but the city’s food offerings are cosmopolitan, and most everything I tried here was really, really good.”

  Leon slung his bag over his shoulder. “I agree about the weather, but I’m looking forward to being introduced to the food. Lead the way, Cyril.”

  “Just Cy is fine, actually,” the human said. The wind turned, and Leon could finally taste just a whiff of him on the breeze. Leon licked his lips, knew then and there that he wanted more of Cyril than just dinner.

  “I’ll call you Cyril, if you don’t mind. It’s such a beautiful name.”

  And Cyril’s cheeks flared with brightness at that. He swallowed visibly, and Leon saw the desire in the human’s eyes. “Uhm. Sure, that’s fine.”

  Leon looked forward to the rest of the night, more than he had in a long time.

  * * *

  They ended up in a basement pizza place with a low ceiling and small windows. The whitewashed walls had been adorned with murals that were done to resemble the old Roman style as it could still be seen in Pompeii and other places, but the texts accompanying the images were done in English and ranged from Carpe Pizza to Tip Your Server. The service, just like the wine and food, were excellent.

  “What made you decide you wanted to work with glass?” Leon asked the hungry human sitting across from him.

  Cyril swallowed a mouthful of his pizza before responding. “I liked the colors, and while it’s not all two-dimensional, it’s still more… well, more clearly defined in my head, if that makes any sense. Sculpture would have been my second choice. Chiseling life from stone, you know.”

  Leon almost choked on his wine at that. He coughed.

  “You okay there?” Cyril asked.

  “Oh, fine,” Leon said. You almost ended up working with stone. I suppose if you actually were a sculptor, me finding you dozing on a train would be wholly ridiculous.

  Or perhaps this was a sign. Leon shook his head, exasperated with his own idiocy. Signs and portents were not real, just a quaint fantasy and a good storytelling tool. The human right in front of Leon, he was real. Cyril was easy on the eyes, easy to talk with, and clearly he found Leon attractive. But beyond that, what could they have, other than a fling? Not that a good fling wouldn’t be as satisfying as a good book. More so. But Cyril was human, and humans either feared or loathed the other the closer they came to it. Leon had seen and felt and experienced that, and he had no desire to repeat it.

  Speaking of reading and good books… “You wanted to tell me about your reading habits,” Leon said.

  Cyril bit into the crunchy crust, chewed thoughtfully. “I read pretty much anything, but romance is my guilty pleasure.” He looked down to his plate, which did little in terms of hiding that slight reddening of his cheeks that had absolutely nothing to do with the wine or the food. Few humans managed to make blushing such a sweet seductive trait, but Cyril did.

  “You don’t say,” Leon said. “I take it you are not talking about Jane Austen?”

  Cyril shook his head and drank some of his own wine. “My sister is to blame for that one actually. She reads all those vampire romances, and for some reason they all have covers that consist mostly of naked male chests, and so I saw one and simply had to have a look…” He shrugged. “The rest is embarrassing history.”