CHAPTER ONE #2
Adam pointed between two racks of costumes to his most beloved, and oldest, animatronic.
It couldn’t do much more than wiggle at the waist and occasionally flash its eyes red, but he’d had Imhotep since taking over the store.
The stranger leaned closer to take a peek.
It was such a tight squeeze, he nearly brushed his cheek against Adam’s extended arm.
Those soft, ebony waves wafted over his black shirt.
Adam stopped breathing. The longer the man stared, taking in every little detail from the foam ankh to the very real cobwebs, the more it hit Adam how much time had passed since he’d been this close to any man, much less a ripped teddy bear.
Don’t breathe in his scent. Don’t breathe in…
Damn it. Myrrh and sandalwood—a deadly combination.
“Did you use gauze or cheesecloth?” He swiveled his head, and those enchanting, soul-trapping eyes beamed right into Adam’s.
“Linen. Had to be. Authenticity is key.”
“I assume you pulled out his brains with a spoon as well.” The stranger laughed, and Adam’s brain went pinging around inside his skull. All conscious thought turned into a tiny rubber ball bounding off into the ether, leaving Adam capable of chuckling and nothing more.
“You have others too? Are they as well crafted?”
Say something. No, idiot, don’t try to grin.
Dear god, don’t do that weird half smile that makes it look like you’re stroking out.
Charming, attractive men tended to cause half of his face to paralyze.
The one time he’d gotten the courage to talk to the man he saw at the gym every day, the guy turned out to be an EMT and rushed Adam to the hospital.
It was either admit he’d been failing at flirting to the man with a girlfriend, or pretend he’d actually suffered a transient ischemic attack.
“Um…” Be cool. Casual. “Yup.” Adam shot him a finger gun, then tried to use all of his swagger to lean against the table. His elbow went straight down through a cowboy hat, turning the ten gallons into a pint.
I give up.
A low, derisive snicker caused him to pop up and turn. Chrissy gave him a look that caused entire civilizations to ward against the evil eye. He had this. It was another customer with a problem. Just like every other day.
“A monster in a box?” the man exclaimed. Wide-eyed, he ran over to the old shipping crate that rocked back and forth as chains rattled. A side was sawed off to reveal the furry werewolf arm inside. He ran his hand across the top, setting off the mechanism. “These are so cool.”
“Adam.” He jerked forward, hand out less like a greeting and more to claim him. Just before he approached the man, he froze. “My name. It’s Adam. People, they call me Adam.”
“Hey, boss.” Chrissy walked past with a pricing gun at the ready. She pretended to mark up the angel wings, then stared him dead in the eye. “Why don’t you tell him your name?”
“Ha. Stein. Adam Stein, is my full name. And this is my store.” He flung his hands up like he was Willy Wonka showing off the candy factory. Alas, no rivers of chocolate formed, nor did any children bungle themselves into mortal danger. “You wanted to see the masks. They’re this way.”
“Raj.” He placed a hand to his chest, those luscious lips knocked into a wry smile. “Raj Choudhary. Pleased to meet you, Adam.”
Those two syllables, an “A” then a “dam,” burned down Adam’s spine like liquid gold. It wasn’t just hearing them. Watching them—his name—form on Raj’s lips made him want to fall to his knees and show what he could do with his lips and tongue.
Dear god, man, get it together.
Coughing, Adam tried to shake off the nerves of a thirteen-year-old boy having to face the locker room showers for the first time. “If you wouldn’t mind following me? They’re in the back.”
He had enough brain cells left to not reach over to take Raj’s hand. Instead, he guided him around the shoppers unaware that an entire world existed outside of themselves. As Raj trailed behind, he kept asking about his stock.
“I always like to have one wiggling rat in the pile of latex ones, for fun,” Adam said, approaching the curtain. “To tell you the truth, I don’t show many people the masks this early. You’re…quite lucky to get to see them today.”
“Oh. Should I not have asked? I just heard that I had to check out your Halloween masks. They said they’re amazing.”
Smiling, Adam flung back the curtain and stepped inside. As he flipped the light, he said, “No. They’re the best.”
To the unprepared eye, the entire back wall was something out of a serial killer’s wet dream.
It was divided into a grid of six rows and eight columns with square shelves to hold his most precious.
Each alcove was painted in faux stone with flickering lights to mimic the fat, dribbling candles in a castle dungeon.
But what made Adam smile and Raj’s breath catch were the heads inside.
Skin the color of putrified flesh, eyes sewn shut, lips dangling as if a breeze could tear them off—he had the kind of zombies that would haunt Romero’s nightmares.
Bears, foxes, wolves, raccoons—an entire forest of animals gazed glass-eyed from the third row.
Their fur and latex flesh were so lifelike, half the time Adam expected to hear a howl or roar from their cells.
But Adam’s raison d'être were the masks in the two top rows. Eldritch horrors plucked from the edge of space, underwater demons lurking in depths unimaginable to the human psyche, monsters without eyes, lips, noses—or ones with far too many. Tentacles bobbed off of the squid-like monster’s heads with such a glistening sheen it was easy to think they’d just been plucked from the water.
In the center was his pride and joy—a mask that looked exactly like flesh flayed from numerous people and knitted back together to form the head of the modern Prometheus.
Most striking were the hints of red muscle below where the stitches didn’t quite take.
Those were the masks that people whispered about. The ones they’d clamor to get a glimpse of come every October first. Guaranteed to win any costume contest and scare the soul out of passersby on the trick or treating route.
There were also clown masks on the bottom row.
“What do you think?” Adam asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Raj stumbled forward as if being beckoned by demonic latex. “They’re… I’ve never seen anything like this.” He reached for the chameleon mask. It didn’t look like the lizard, but—thanks to a mix of shiny paints, crystals, and glass—it gave the illusion it was always blending in with the background.
“And you never will,” Adam said.
His voice must have been enough to jerk Raj from his spell. He dropped his hands before he touched the mask, then bundled them behind his back. Adam could understand the feeling. It was also why he made sure to keep the masks behind glass when they were on sale.
Walking forward, Adam smiled. “They’re all one of a kind, created by a demented mad genius who’s isolated from society.
Every year, they make a new set, unlike anything they’ve done before.
And—” He reached in past Raj to pick up the styrofoam head displaying the chameleon mask.
”—I’m required by contract to destroy whatever doesn’t sell. ”
“That’s…” Raj’s eyes were wild, his mouth hanging open as he leaned closer to inspect the detail on the mask.
The flesh had been imprinted with scales while the top of the head was ribbed with a mix of gemstones and resin.
He nearly ran his finger across the gleaming alexandrite when he glanced up. “You don’t really destroy them…right?”
“If I want to keep appeasing the artist—” Adam said. “They’re quite…”
“Particular?”
“I’d say madder than a wet hen, but particular works. Here, do you want to try it on?”
“I…should I?”
After patting his fingers with baby powder, Adam slipped his palm under the mask and pulled it off the styrofoam head. “Why not?” Like the incredibly devoted storeowner he was, Adam helped Raj into the mask. And it was not just an excuse for him to stand behind and breathe in his hair.
As Raj placed a steadying hand to the mask’s face, Adam tugged the top over his head.
Myrrh and a spicy Turkish resin wafted in the air.
Shivers climbed up his back like Nosferatu’s shadow scaling the stairs.
“Hmm, you’ll probably want a bald cap to help tame your luscious locks, but this should work for now. ”
The tips of black hair tumbled from the back of the mask behind his neck.
Even still, as Adam swung around and reached for a mirror, his breath caught.
A prism of light beamed across the ceiling as Raj shifted his head.
Hidden holographic scales lit up, changing color in a pattern chasing over Raj’s cheeks.
The sculpt gave Maleficent cheekbones to the already well-carved man.
It was only the eyes that made Adam purse his lips.
Oh, they were beautiful—a haunting mix of colors over two bulbous orbs.
But they completely hid Raj’s ensnaring ones.
No amount of holographic glitter could compete with those.
“Have a look.” Adam passed over the mirror shaped like an apple. As Raj stared at it, Adam leaned back to watch. He always let them try it on, get a feel for the quality, the glitz, the glam before he dropped the boom.
“This is the thinnest latex I’ve ever worn and so detailed. It feels like a second skin,” Raj said.
“The artist uses a secret blend of materials. Even I don’t know exactly what they are, but with this mask you can spend hours dancing the night away and not even break a sweat.”
Raj patted his cheek, causing the colors to shift from an aqua blue to a mysterious purple. “Oh, no worries there. I am awful at dancing, and parties, and people.”
Smiling, Adam leaned in. “You just haven’t been to the right parties.”
Even though the mask hid Raj’s skin, Adam felt the blush burning across his cheeks. Oh, hot teddy bears were one thing—but awkward nerds into scary masks… The universe was testing him.
“How…” Raj’s breath stuttered, and he wafted a hand near his face. “How much?”
Time to rip off that Band-Aid. “Seven hundred and fifty. But, since it’s so early in the season, I’ll take twenty-five off.”
“Seven hundred and twenty-five…” He said it like everyone did when they heard the cost for a one-of-a-kind, never-before-seen masks. These were designed to last a lifetime, and came with the price for it too.
“I understand,” Adam said as Raj tried to worm his way out of the mask. “It’s quite an investment, but these are—”
“I’ll take it,” he cried out, twisting Adam’s tongue into a knot.
“Beg pardon?”
“Oh, and that tiger one. The white one. How much is that?”
“The furred ones are eight hundred. I’m sorry, you want two masks?” Adam stuttered, fairly certain the world was ending.
“Yes. And if you have a bald cap.”
He’s hot, he’s sweet, and he’s loaded.
And he is one hundred percent straight. Probably got a wife and three kids at home, white picket fence, golden retriever.
Well, I may not get laid, but at least I’ll get paid.
“Right away.” Adam rushed back. With care, he took down the tiger mask—a gorgeous one that wasn’t lifelike.
Instead, it mimicked a woodcut image of a tiger with thick lines around the edges.
When he’d unboxed it, he’d thought that one was destined for the fire.
After placing the mask in a special case and tying up the ribbon for carrying, he took the chameleon one.
For a beat, he turned it around in his hands. “I’m almost sad to see it go.”
“Oh…?”
“But am glad that it’s found such a wonderful home.
” He boxed that one up, too. “Every purchase comes with a styrofoam display head, a spray to maintain the mask, and a card from the artist explaining their inspiration.” As he slipped the card in place, he gazed at Raj, wishing he could add his number into the box.
“I’ll include a bald cap and hair nets free of charge. Come this way.”
With all the grace of a king guiding visiting royalty through his kingdom, Adam led Raj to the counter. Chrissy looked up for a second as he shoved her aside. “What are you…?”
“The good man is buying two masks. I don’t see a reason for him to wait.”
“Whatever.” She walked away, her hands up.
Okay. Adam paused before the register as Raj stepped in front of the counter and smiled. What am I…? Oh, right. Numbers. I can do numbers. They’re an eight and a seven. Just keep pressing them.
As Adam struggled through basic math, Raj peered around the room. The masks may not induce sweating, but Adam felt like a puddle as he tried to remember how to include sales tax. There was a button…
“Is that you?”
“Hmm?”
Raj pointed behind Adam toward the wall. As he swiveled his head, Adam realized what was back there the same second he remembered how to do his job. “Oh. Those old things.” He shrugged a shoulder at the four framed newspaper clippings.
“What’s a King of Halloween?” Raj asked.
“Just something Anoka does. The whole town gets together and votes on who’s the…well, king of Halloween. I’ve had the honor of holding that title for four years in a row.”
“Wow,” Raj said. Is he impressed? Adam caught movement just as Chrissy finished her perfunctory eye roll.
“Fingers crossed I’ll pull off number five. No one’s ever gotten it five years in a row.”
“‘Cause it’s only been a thing for twelve,” Chrissy whispered.
Adam glared at her before he glanced at the total just as Raj handed over his credit card. Even Chrissy paused in her passive-aggressive restocking to watch the numbers going through. As Adam returned the card, he asked, “Will you be going to the parade this afternoon?”
“I hope so,” Raj said.
After tearing off the receipt, Adam added it to the bag, then handed over the masks. “If you do, you’ll see me riding on the biggest float at the back.”
“Really?” Raj held his masks.
Snickering, Adam couldn’t stop a blush as he held his hands up. “I am the King of Halloween.”
“Oh shi—” Two kids rammed into a rack of costumes. Like dominoes, three racks smashed to the floor.
Chrissy bowed and handed him a broom. “Your sword, your majesty.”