Beauty had been an elusive concept for centuries.
Some liked the roses, while others liked the crimson staining its thorns.
If one dared to define beauty, there would be as many answers as there were hearts still beating.
Of course, to Alexei Vetrov, there was only one kind of beauty.
The kind that made you forget your goddamn name.
And right now, that beauty was walking toward him in a red shirt with the upper button left open, almost like an innocent flirtation.
He wasn't bulky like the guy walking next to him, nor was he loud like all of them.
But somehow, that only made him more noticeable.
Black hair framed well-defined cheekbones, and his face was so fair it looked carved from marble by some overachieving saint.
A cross pendant hung loosely from his wrist.
There was this… stillness to him. The kind that made people quiet without realizing it. As if even the air didn't want to be disrespectful.
"Doesn't he look so ... ethereal and benevolent?" Cindy whispered into Alexei's ear.
Those words didn't belong in his world.
And yet, he found himself unwittingly looking straight into those grey eyes.
It wasn't seductive at all, yet it was damning all the same.
Like his cold grey eyes, framed by those long eyelashes, could see through his clothes, past his skin, straight inside his soul.
That one glance made him feel stripped naked in public, but instead of running, he just stood there.
Flushed, embarrassed, and yet he wanted those eyes to look at him.
Hastily forcing his gaze to wander around, Alexei scoffed at himself. His brows furrowed as irritation bubbled inside him.
Who would have thought that he would actually meet someone who looked so ... what was the word again?
Ah, yes. Fucking divine.
When that gaze moved away from him to someone behind him, Alexei stupidly took a step to the side as if chasing after those eyes.
"Alexei?" Cindy was quick to follow. Her hand inched closer to his forehead, only to be avoided.
Used to his hot and cold behavior, Cindy pressed on, "Why is your face red? Do you have a fever? Maybe we should take you to the infirmary."
"No," Alexei replied while touching his own face. It felt hot.
"I'll see you later."
After leaving that sentence for the dumbfounded Anton, he bolted toward the gates where his car was parked.
Intuition blared at him, warning about the approaching danger, and these feelings were never wrong.
"When in a situation you can't understand, the best course is to run. Save your life first. Rest can be dealt with later."
His father's words rang in his ears.
Yes, distance was better. He had to figure out what the hell just happened.
While the young Vetrov was having a sudden crisis over his overwhelming fear, Elijah, too, found himself in a peculiar situation.
With his special ability, it was far too easy for him to see what kind of lives these people were leading.
Which also meant that, unlike psychics who could only glimpse a few final moments through touch, he could see the entire life of the subject without much trouble.
Just one look in those deep blue eyes, and he knew the kid was surrounded by some heavy, vengeful ghosts.
These kinds of ghosts would provoke the humans to act on their impulses, pushing them down the path of corruption until there was no turning back.
Only someone with lingering karmic debt could draw in spirits like that.
Considering the boy's age, karma couldn't all be his alone. His family was involved, too.
However, despite being surrounded by such dirty things, there was still a thin layer of golden light around the child. Almost like a protective barrier.
How can someone have such darkness and virtue at the same time?
Before he could take another look, the boy ran away. It was only then he recalled about his broken charm.
"Let's hurry," Eli murmured to Chase while giving one look at the kids who were surrounding the strange blue-eyed child.
"Sure. Arvy says she will send us the details once she finds something."
"Hmm."
Arvy was Chase's cousin and also his informant.
Chase Maddox was heir to one of the oldest and richest families.
After having a fight with his parents, Chase, like a stupid teenager, ran away from home.
As luck would have it, he somehow managed to find his house in Brindle Row.
It had been nearly three years since, and this twenty-two-year-old man-child still hadn't reconciled with his parents.
Maybe he did, but he still refused to return.
With a broken Saxo VTS that would make his sibling frown in disgust, he had been living at the edge of Brindle Row.
Sure, his house was much more luxurious than anyone else's in the area, but Eli had never set foot in that place.
In his field of work, which resulted in carrying residue ghostly air, it was better to be alone.
Much to his dismay, that personal space he'd worked so hard to preserve crumbled that very night.