"Pffttt..."
Chase was the first to crack. A sharp laugh burst out of him, loud enough to startle even himself.
He slapped the steering wheel, grinning so wide his green eyes crinkled.
Alexei lasted for three seconds before folding. He doubled over with laughter, the sound spilling out of him until his ribs ached.
"Hahaha... Who is Margarita... hahaha..."
By the time he managed to catch his breath, his blue eyes were wet with tears. He wiped at them with the heel of his palm, still chuckling.
But when his gaze drifted back to Elijah, blinking in mild confusion, Alexei found his amusement turning into something else entirely.
Alexei had grown up in a world painted in crimson.
He had learned to aim a gun, kill, and not to leave evidence behind before he'd learned to solve for x.
The Vetrov name carried its own brand of madness for their cursed obsession.
If a Vetrov wanted blood, they would get it. Hell itself would have to bar its gates to keep them away.
And he had been raised to open those bars with his bare hands and get what he wished for.
The first lesson was, of course, the deception. To catch it, to breathe it in until it became his second nature.
His handsome face with a charming smile was enough to mask his mild psychopathic tendencies.
They weren't too serious, really. Just the thrill to beat someone to pulp or a group, depending upon the mood.
Without even meaning to, he'd been observing Elijah in the same way.
Yet he got nothing on the pretty priestling.
The more he couldn't read him, the more he wanted to know. The itch in his veins was pushing him to get under Elijah's pretty skin as well.
He was by no means some poet, but if he had to compare Elijah, the priestling was like the peak of some distant, icy mountain.
Untainted and untouchable. And for some reason, that made Alexei want to leave his fingerprints there.
"Damn," he muttered softly, his grin lighting his face up. Without thinking, he reached over and pinched Elijah's cheek. "You're cute."
Without any suspense, Elijah narrowed his eyes and slapped his hand away.
Alexei hissed dramatically, cradling his hand to his chest... though it didn't hurt at all. "Hey, I thought you priests were against violence?"
"Eli ain't that," Chase was quick to explain.
Over the years, it had become his habit to speak up for Eli, who preferred to stay silent most of the time, brooding over only god knew what.
"He has his own rules, and he hates when something dirty touches him."
The moment his words fell, the car instantly turned silent.
"Dirty, huh?" The smile had vanished, replaced by the smirk which spelled trouble.
Elijah merely blinked at the sudden suffocation in the narrow space, forcing Chase to choke on his saliva.
"Not you," he hastily tried to mend the damage.
After visiting his uncle, he was well aware of the identity of this mafia heir. That was the only reason why he had invited him to visit Niko in the first place.
Now he was regretting it with every fiber.
"What I mean is..." he found himself fumbling with the words.
In the end, he could only shoot a pleading glance at his silent friend through the mirror.
Elijah glanced at the hand he had slapped, and then at the owner of blue eyes that were clearly angry.
"You are dirty."
"Fuck!" Chase cursed under his breath. "Not like that, Eli. You gotta explain before he thinks you're calling him trash."
"Ah," Elijah finally realised where the problem was.
Unlike Chase, this teenager wasn't aware of the things they normally dealt with. So, of course, being called dirty would come off as an insult.
Like an elder, he started explaining in the easiest way possible.
"You see, almost every person carries another soul with them. Sometimes they aren't ... good. And they leave a stinky smell. I was talking about that. Not you, per se."
Alexei snorted, dropping his head back against the seat. With his arms crossed over his chest, he asked, "That lust demon again?"
Elijah took a one look at the floating dark aura and decided to skip that question. Instead, he bowed his head slightly and apologized.
"I am sorry for calling you dirty."
Alexei was angry. He truly was. But the way Elijah bowed his head, lashes lowered in genuine apology, took the edge off. Amusement crept in where anger had been.
"What if I don't forgive you?"
Elijah looked back up and then asked with utter seriousness, "You want something from me."
It was a direct statement.
"Will it be okay if I give it to you?" he asked. It must be related to that Margarita or something.
Anyway, he had a day off to deal with a few things. One more wouldn't hurt.
"Yes, I do," Alexei admitted easily.
The speed with which his expression changed was… concerning.
However, it was normal for the people with that kind of aura to be like this. It wasn't like he would be dealing with him for a long time. So, Elijah nodded his head, silently willing him to speak.
Alexei draped his arm along the backrest like he owned the space, almost hugging Elijah while he was at it.
This time, his grin was sharp, the kind of smile that hinted at trouble with a bow on top.
"Go on a date with me."
His casual words landed like a top-grenade.
Chase swerved the wheel so hard at the next turn that the tires squealed loud enough to trigger the law of inertia.
And Elijah found himself plunging headfirst into the arms of the very person he had just called dirty.