Normally this would have me finding the nearest exit, but right now I wanted to give everyone I came in contact with a hug.
The ecstasy blessed me with the ability to see the allure of Faust with a fresh set of eyes. The aesthetic was wicked. Each corner was done in a different horror theme. People were half-naked and covered in fake blood, crying for help through the bars of medieval-type cages suspended above the crowd.
An entire wall was made up of dimly lit Ouija boards and satanic symbols. The remainder of the bar’s interior was bathed in neon lighting that kept changing colors. And the music? It felt like it was coming from inside me.
I took a step forward, tugging Bellatrix with me as the line for the bar grew smaller. Glancing over my shoulder to check on the others, I blinked in surprise when I saw who was right behind us.
Two of the men we’d all openly stared at earlier were right freaking there. I hadn’t noticed either of them when I looked back a few minutes ago. I swept my eyes over their bodies before quickly turning to face the other way, wavering in place.
One must have thought I was going to fall because suddenly he was gripping either side of my waist as if to hold me upright. He had ridiculously large hands. They felt like heating pads being applied against my already warm skin. How could he feel so hot through a layer of clothing?
“Thanks,” I tossed over my shoulder, unable to turn back around. My thoughts flitted between telling me to look at them again and demanding that I didn’t. With each passing minute, it felt like I was literally about to float through the damn ceiling.
I laughed and laid my head on Bellatrix’s shoulder.
The man’s hands fell away as he moved forward and repositioned himself beside me. His friend moved to the right, making room for himself on the other side of Amber.
He was tall--they both were--easily towering over all three of us and that was a feat. Amber may have been pushing five-two but me and my sister weren’t considered short. At five ‘six, we barely came to these men's shoulders. Typically, we were only a few inches shorter than men we came in contact with, if not taller.
“I’ve seen you before.”
As soon as he spoke my head lifted and turned towards him on its own accord. “What did you say?”
“We’ve met.”
I had heard him the first time. He didn’t need to speak all that loudly to be heard over the music or crowd. I just needed to hear his voice again to make sure I wasn’t imagining the way he sounded.
His accent was thick, his tone so deep and gravelly every word could’ve been one of seduction or menace. I didn’t know if I wanted to rub between my thighs or kneel submissively at his feet. The receptors inside my brain were going off in rapid-fire succession, demanding I do both.
My gaze shifted between him and his friend, noting the obvious similarities.
They had to be related.
“You said we’ve met, but I don’t know your name.”
“Nico, and that’s my brother Malachi.” He gestured with his large hand to the man with hair nearly the same shade as Bellatrix’s.
Brother? I was right then, they were related. I looked back at Nico, almost certain the comforting scent of warm honey and smoky tobacco was coming from him.
Wasn’t someone missing, though?
“There were four of you,” Bellatrix recalled as if reading my mind.
“Three,” Malachi amended. “You’re thinking of Damian, our other brother.”
“Wasn’t there…?” Bellatrix looked at me for help.
“Elizabeth,” I supplied
“She isn’t one of us,” Malachi replied nonchalantly.
Oh…she had sounded almost as American as we did that made sense. “Damian, Nico, and Malachi, then? Those are cool names.”
“Not something you hear every day,” Bellatrix agreed animatedly.
Nico smiled, revealing more of the razor-like teeth in his pretty mouth. Standing as close as I was, I could see that his costume make-up hadn’t slipped or smudged in the slightest. It looked even better than it had earlier.
Maybe it was the lighting or the drugs but, so did he.
His head full of hair looked like freshly woven silk. With that jawline and perfect facial structure, he could be the blueprint for a Greek statue. The whole skeletal thing was working for him too. He was beautifully grotesque, a macabre piece of perfection.
As I stared at him, an odd sense of familiarity needled into my subconscious, harder to ignore with each passing second.
There was no way I’d seen him before he walked into that restaurant. I had barely spoken five words to Nico and he to me, but that was more than enough to know he wasn’t someone you’d easily forget. His eyes alone had a depth to them that went far beyond the physical.