34. Presley
Presley
I take Hades’s hand and step out of his truck, feeling like a dark Cinderella being escorted to the ball. Except this is the annual Hollow Creek Halloween costume party at Greycourt.
I stare at the imposing structure in front of me, my mouth dropping open slightly.
Greycourt looks like something straight out of a gothic novel. Which, considering I spend most of my days surrounded by books, is probably the highest compliment I can give a building.
The sprawling estate rises out of the darkness at the end of a long, winding drive, all weathered gray stone, black shutters, and tall windows glowing amber against the night.
Hundreds of carved pumpkins line the drive. Some have traditional jack-o'-lantern faces. Others are carved into elaborate witches, ravens, skulls, and haunted houses. Candles flicker inside them, casting dancing shadows across the lawn. Fog curls over the ground.
“Holy shit.”
Hades looks at me. “Impressed?”
“This is amazing.”
“I'll take that as a yes.”
“You've never been here?”
“No.”
“Me either.” He flashes me a smile that makes my knees weak. “I haven't exactly spent a lot of time attending Halloween masquerades.”
I turn toward him. Hades is an unfairly hot Gomez Addams. Just like he was last night. Only tonight, he looks even better. And this time, I let him wear the mustache.
I smile.
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Even though we recycled our costumes from last night, Gomez never looked so good.”
He smiles, and I swear, my panties grow damp.
His gaze moves slowly over me.
I'm wearing a long black dress that hugs every curve before flaring slightly near my ankles. My dark hair hangs straight down my back, and Gracie spent far too much time making sure my makeup was appropriately Morticia.
Hades takes my hand. Without breaking eye contact, he lifts it to his mouth, his lips brushing my knuckles.
My stomach flips.
“You make a better Morticia.”
Jesus.
“You're really committing to this tonight.”
“Completely.”
“You know you can stop being Gomez now, right?”
His thumb moves over my fingers. “Who said I'm pretending?”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. The way this man affects me should be illegal.
My body is still pleasantly sore from this morning, and the memory of exactly how I got that way flashes through my mind.
Running through the woods. Hades catching me. His body against and inside mine. The way he looked at me afterward, like I was something precious and something he wanted to devour at the same time.
I squeeze my legs together.
His eyes drop. “Problem?”
“Nope.”
“Liar.”
“Come on. Let’s go inside.”
He chuckles.
Greycourt is even more beautiful inside. And creepy as hell.
Exactly as Halloween should be.
Candles cover nearly every available surface, although I'm pretty sure most of them are battery-operated, considering setting a historic mansion on fire would probably put a damper on the festivities.
Black roses fill enormous silver vases. Cobwebs stretch between chandeliers. Old portraits lining the walls are draped with black mourning veils. Music drifts from somewhere deeper inside the house.
Everyone is in costume. Some are elaborate. Some sexy. Some horrifying.
Almost everyone wears some kind of mask. Which probably should bother me after the past couple of weeks.
Strangely, it doesn't.
Maybe because Hades's hand hasn't left the small of my back since we walked inside. Or maybe because I'm finally beginning to understand that being afraid of something and enjoying fear aren't necessarily the same thing.
“Drink?”
I look up. “Please.”
He guides me toward one of the bars set up beneath an enormous staircase.
The bartender is dressed like a vampire.
I order something involving apple cider and caramel that’s probably eighty percent sugar. Hades gets whiskey.
I take a sip of mine. “Oh my God.”
“That good?”
I hold it toward him. “Try it.”
“No.”
“Come on. It’s delicious.”
“I can smell the sugar from here.”
“You're no fun.” I take another sip.
He leans closer, lips grazing my ear. “I chased you through the woods this morning.”
I nearly choke on my drink.
Hades calmly takes a sip of whiskey. His eyes gleam over the rim of the glass.
“You're an asshole.”
“You weren't complaining this morning.”
My face burns. “Hades.”
He leans closer. “It’s Gomez, Morticia.”
I laugh and shove lightly at his chest. He catches my hand, then kisses my knuckles again.
Goddammit. I'm falling for Gomez Addams.
“There you are!” I recognize Gracie’s voice a second before she appears beside me wearing a black witch’s dress and a pointed hat that’s leaning dangerously to one side.
“What happened to your hat?”
She touches it. “Nothing.”
I stare at her.
“A doorway happened.”
Hades makes a choking sound beside me.
“That’s enough, peanut gallery.” Gracie points at him, then grabs my arm. “Come on. There are people you need to meet.”
I barely manage to keep my drink upright as she pulls me across the room.
Hades follows.
His hand settles against the small of my back again the second we stop beside two couples and a blonde woman wearing black cat ears.
“Okay.” Gracie points toward a brunette in a red hood. “Presley, this is Ivy. The terrifying man pretending he isn’t completely obsessed with her is her husband, Sebastian.”
Sebastian reaches up and tugs at one of the fake wolf ears. “I'm taking these off.”
Ivy smiles sweetly. “No, you’re not.” She turns to me. “Hello, Presley.”
He scowls at her. His hand drops from the ears, then he grumbles, “Hi, Presley.”
I try to hide my laugh. “Hi.”
Gracie points at the gorgeous redhead beside them, standing beside a man. “Violet and her fiancé, Drew.”
Drew adjusts one of the white ears on his head with a deeply suffering expression. “She got to be Jessica Rabbit.”
Violet takes a sip of her drink, her figure clad in a sexy red dress. “Because I have the legs for it.”
“I also have legs.”
“Not Jessica Rabbit legs.”
Drew looks at me. “This is my life.”
I look at his white shirt, red suspenders, and bow tie. He makes a good Roger Rabbit.
“And this,” Gracie continues, pointing at the blonde in cat ears, “is Callie. Violet’s sister.”
Callie lifts her glass. “Meow.”
Violet groans. “Please stop doing that.”
“I’m committed to the costume.”
“You’ve been doing it for an hour.”
“And I have several hours left.”
I immediately like her.
Hades steps beside me, his arm going around my waist.
Gracie looks at Hades. “Everyone, this is Hades.”
Several pairs of eyes move over him before the round of hellos begins.
Callie looks between our Morticia and Gomez costumes. “Love the costumes.”
“Thank you,” I beam at her.
Before I can say another word, a male voice interrupts.
“Jesus Christ.”
Hades closes his eyes.
The man approaching us looks enough like Hades that I know immediately who he is. There’s no doubt they’re unmistakably related.
He's slightly younger, his features a little less severe, his expression considerably more amused.
He's dressed entirely in black, although I'm not sure whether that's supposed to be a costume.
Gracie shepherds everyone away with a “Come on, I want to show you the dessert table,” leaving Hades and me with the guy barreling toward us.
He stops in front of us and stares at Hades.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Hades sighs. “Presley, this is Wilder.”
I smile. “Hi.”
Wilder's attention remains fixed on his brother. “You actually dressed as Gomez.”
Hades looks at me. “She wanted Gomez.”
Wilder stares at him, then looks at me, his brows raising. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
Hades's eyes narrow. “Wilder.”
Wilder raises both hands. “Didn't say a word.”
“You said several.”
“None of them were the words I'm currently thinking.”
I laugh.
Hades looks annoyed. Which only makes me laugh harder.
Wilder grins at me. “I like you.”
“You've known her for about thirty seconds,” Hades mutters.
“Twenty of those seconds were spent watching you dressed as Gomez Addams because she asked you to. That's all the information I need.”
I bite my lip.
Hades points toward the other side of the room. “Go away.”
“No.”
“Wilder.”
“I'm socializing.”
“You're irritating me.”
“That's also how I socialize.”
I look between them. And suddenly I understand Hades's answer when I asked whether he and Wilder were close.
He's my brother. I'd do anything for him.
It's there, under the insults. Under Hades's annoyance and Wilder's obvious enjoyment of causing it.
Something solid. Something unbreakable.
Wilder looks at me. “Did he tell you anything embarrassing about me?”
“No.”
“Excellent. How about I tell you something embarrassing about him?”
Hades grabs his shoulder. “Don't.”
Wilder grins. I laugh again.
And for the first time tonight, I realize I'm not thinking about the Masked Man.
Not even a little.
An hour later, I'm dancing with Hades beneath a chandelier covered in black roses.
Actually, calling what we're doing dancing might be generous.
I'm dancing. Hades is holding me while occasionally moving his feet.
“You're terrible at this.”
“I warned you.” His arm tightens around my waist. “I have other talents.”
My cheeks heat. “I'm aware.”
His smile is pure male satisfaction.
I roll my eyes. “Don't look so proud of yourself.”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“Hades.”
He spins me unexpectedly.
I gasp, grabbing his shoulders when he pulls me back against him.
“See?” he murmurs.
“That was one move.”
“It worked.”
I laugh, then he dips me.
I squeal. “Hades!”
He pulls me upright. “Two.”
“You've been practicing.”
“I have not.”
“Liar.”
His hand slides along my back. “Maybe I'm a natural.”
“At being Gomez?”
His eyes hold mine. “At worshipping you.”
My breath catches.
The teasing disappears. For several seconds, neither of us moves.
People dance around us. Music fills the ballroom. Someone laughs nearby.
But all I see is him.
Smoky gray eyes. That sexy smirk.
The man who stayed when I asked him to.
The man who listened while I talked about Grandma.
The man who chased me through the woods because I asked him to.
The man I'm falling in love with.
Or maybe I already have.
Hades's thumb brushes my cheek. “You okay?”
I smile. “Yeah.”
For once, I really am.