27. Theo
Theo
Juliana corners me in my office in the early evening before the event starts, arms full of bags. She’s a Greek Goddess, in a flowing white toga dress with a gold belt at the waist, gold arm cuff, and a delicate laurel crown.
For a moment, the dread about this evening slips away, and all I see is my daughter; beautiful, confident, self-assured.
She looks like her mom, and the reminder is bittersweet.
It’s easy to forget Juliana is grown up now, living her own life.
A life that pulls further and further away from mine.
My heart clenches at the thought, wishing I could go back to the days when she trusted me with her deepest secrets, and I was her best friend.
“Hey, Bug,” I murmur, voice rusty as she closes the door. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She sets her bags down, eyes widening as they sweep over me. “Woah. Alright. I can work with this.”
I look at the clothes she insisted I wear; black Henley, scuffed boots, and faded jeans with a rip across the knees, fraying at the hem. I haven’t worn these jeans in years—I’d forgotten I even owned them—and can’t say I feel comfortable standing in my office in something so… unkempt.
Juliana steers me into a chair and pulls a pencil from her bag. “Okay. I’m going to line your eyes a little, and add some shading under your cheekbones.”
My jaw tightens. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes. It’s what makes this whole look come together.” She works for a moment, assessing my face. “The beard works in your favor.”
“It’s not a beard,” I grumble, and she snorts.
“Yeah, Dad, it is.” She finishes with the pencil, pulling something else from her bag. “I’ve never seen you with a beard. It suits you.” A beat passes while she works. “Where has it come from, all of a sudden?”
“I’ve always been capable of growing a beard, Juliana,” I deflect, deadpan.
“And yet you never have… until now.”
I stare at the carpet, refusing to meet my daughter’s gaze, so close. “It’s for her,” I admit at last, not feeling right saying Eleanor’s name aloud, like that, in my office. I brace for Juliana’s smirk, but it doesn’t come.
“Aww. You big softy.” Her smile is unexpectedly genuine, and any sharp response I might have had dies on my tongue. She pulls another pencil from her bag, moving to my forehead.
“What are you doing now?”
“You’re mid-transformation, Dad. You need to look like you just tore through a forest.” Then she sets the pencil aside, pulling out hair spray, as she tousles my hair.
I sigh. As ridiculous as I feel already, I know she won’t intentionally make me look stupid. It seems she wants this thing with Eleanor to work as badly as I do.
It’s a relief when my daughter is done. I stand, wanting to catch a look at myself, but she reaches into her bag again.
“Here. I found these in theater storage.”
She holds out a pair of fingerless leather gloves with fur and faux claws on the back. I hesitate, then take them. Without the gloves I’m just a guy in ripped clothing and makeup.
“Oh, and these.” She presents a set of plastic fangs, but I shake my head. That’s one step too far.
“No, thanks.”
Her eyes twinkle. “Eleanor will like them,” she taunts me gently, and I grumble again, swiping them from her.
“Fine.” At least she isn’t making me wear ears. “But I’m not going to howl.”
“Hey, what you two get up to is your business.”
I glare at my daughter. Jesus.
She laughs, stepping back to examine her handiwork, lips twisted to one side. Then she rolls my sleeves back to the elbows, adding a red scar to one forearm.
“That’s better.” She laughs, shaking her head as she studies me. “Poor Eleanor will probably forget how to breathe.”
I roll my eyes, stepping past her to inspect myself in the mirror of my bathroom.
I don’t even recognize myself. Gone is the clean order of my suit, and in its place, utter chaos.
My hair is a mess, face dark and dangerous thanks to the makeup, clothing and boots a disgrace.
Adding the gloves and fangs, I look positively beastly.
“This is going to terrify the kids,” I say as I slip back into my office.
Juliana laughs. “Maybe. They’ll wonder who you are and what you’ve done with their headmaster.” She straightens, reaching for her bags. “Right. Let’s go.”
My pulse scatters at the thought of going out there, looking like this. It’s too much. I need to change.
She senses my hesitation, softening. “You look great, Dad. I promise. Stop taking life so seriously, and have a little fun.” Then she tugs me by the arm to the door, and I let her.
I can only hope Eleanor doesn’t think I look as ridiculous as I feel.
The haunted hallway is on the first floor in the long central corridor between the main office and the auditorium, and the decorations are far better than I expected.
Even though the school has run this event for years, I’ve always left it to Danny to handle.
But as I look around at what the volunteers have pulled together this evening, I wish I hadn’t been so quick to dismiss it in the past.
Draped black sheets create a dark, tunnel-like effect.
Lit by the occasional flash of ghoulish images from a projector stationed somewhere, the corridor looks menacing.
A fog machine near the entrance spews mist, and flickering lanterns line the hall.
Pride rushes through me when I spot mine among those created by Eleanor’s class.
I step past the open lockers with glowing eyes in their dark depths, around the overturned desks covered in cobwebs, one with a skeleton slumped inside.
Batting away spiderwebs and the plethora of paper maché bats that hang from the ceiling, I look for my spot near the end of the hall, where Danny assigned me.
He said I’m supposed to be the “final scare” for the evening, and I have no doubt my costume will do exactly that.
“Woah, Theo!” Danny steps out of the shadows, making me jump. I didn’t hear him approach over the sounds of ghosts, evil witch cackles, and howling wind that play from a speaker.
“The place looks great,” I admit. “Well done.”
He grins, leaning against a fake tombstone. “They’ve outdone themselves this year. It was Nora’s idea to have more faculty volunteers to oversee everything, and make sure none of the little ones get overwhelmed.”
I fiddle with my gloves, avoiding his gaze. If I don’t, he’ll see the pure admiration in my eyes. No, he’ll see more. He’ll see something I can barely acknowledge myself.
I glance around, looking for Eleanor. I was hoping to see her before this thing starts, but there’s no sign of her. She’s probably helping someone get into costume, or setting up last minute decorations somewhere.
A couple of teachers wander past, faltering when they see me in costume. One of them actually gawks. I’m tempted to growl in their direction, and not because I’m a werewolf.
Danny chuckles, pushing a bowl of candy into my hands. Or rather, paws.
“Don’t worry about what people are saying. Just have fun.”
My brows come down. “What are people saying?”
But he shakes his head, stepping away. “The doors are about to open. Get into position.” He motions along the corridor and I exhale, picking my way past the various decorations, a teacher in a ghost costume I think might be Rowan, and a haunted pumpkin patch, until I find my spot at the end of the hall.
The darkest corner, where I hand out candy and try to terrify the kids before they leave.
Not much different from my usual role, only with more candy.
The kids trickle down the corridor, laughing and shoving each other, screaming when Rowan jumps out at them, then dissolving into giggles.
I stand in my corner, not saying much, but they jump when they see me, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m hidden in shadow, or because they’re genuinely freaked out by my costume, but either way, it works.
I hand over their candy and wish them a happy Halloween as they leave, turning back to wait for the next lot.
Then I see her.
My breath catches as Eleanor flits into the hallway ahead of me, laughing with a group of kids, a dream come to life.
She’s in a pale blue dress, flowing just above the knees, the bodice gently cinched at her waist. There’s a soft glow to her, from fairy lights woven into her crown, a shimmer dusted across her collarbones.
Translucent wings flutter as she turns to speak to a student, her eyes lit with excitement.
Another group of kids approaches, but I’m spellbound, watching her. My fairy princess. She doesn’t notice me lurking in the corner, her polar opposite in every way. She’s light and laughter and magic. I’m shadow and consequences.
Much like real life.
But I’m struggling to remember the consequences tonight. My blood heats as I watch her handing out candy, radiant and glowing. She’s so sweet, so innocent in that damn costume.
And all I can think about is how she tasted on my tongue four nights ago. What those wings would look like from behind, bent over my desk.
I growl, low and dangerous, more to myself than anyone else.
But a scream at my feet snaps my attention down. A little boy sobs, looking around wildly for his mom. I don’t know this kid, must be a sibling of one of our students. The terror in his eyes guts me, especially as he points to my mouth in fear.
Shit. The fangs.
I whip them out, kneeling in front of the boy, and hold the teeth in my palm.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” I say in a soothing voice. “They’re not real. See? Just pretend.”
He blinks at me, calming down, and I breathe out in relief. I hold out my basket of candy, letting him choose several pieces, but there’s still no sign of his mom, and he looks worried again.
“Hey,” I murmur, setting the basket aside. “Want to hold my hand while we look for your mom?”
He nods, but when I hold my furry paw out, he recoils.
Goddammit. I’m a monster.
I rip the gloves off, shoving them into my pocket.
He hesitates then slides his little hand into mine, and we head down the corridor, looking for his mom.
A rowdy group of kids comes barreling toward us, and the boy presses into my leg, scared.
I scoop him up out of the way, and he tucks his face into my chest.
It’s then that I notice Eleanor watching me, eyes smoldering, biting hard into her bottom lip as we pass. I find the kid’s mom and hand him over, heading back past Eleanor, and this time she follows me to my corner.
“Who was that?” she asks breathlessly.
“I don’t know,” I say, pretending not to notice how dark her eyes are, the deep flush under the glitter on her cheekbones. “But he was scared.”
“You were so good with him.” Her voice drops. “So… patient.”
I shrug, attempting nonchalance as I pull my gloves back on. Her gaze falls to my hands, and she swallows hard. There’s no one else in my corner and it’s tempting, too tempting, to pull her close and press my mouth to hers. To push that sweet little dress up her thighs. To forget where we are.
I try to clear the sudden roughness from my throat, unable to tear my gaze from her. Her chest rises and falls with her uneven breathing. Even in the dim light, I can see the way her gaze rakes over me hungrily. It’s probably the same way I looked at her a few moments ago.
And I know for certain I won’t be able to wait until tomorrow night for her.
I lean in, lowering my voice. “Please meet me in my office when this wraps up, Miss Hart.”
Her breath stutters. When I draw away, she looks up at me from under hooded lids.
“Yes, sir.”
Oh, fuck.
Then she leaves, and I count the minutes until I can get her alone. Inviting her into my office is so wrong, but as I watch her hand out candy, laughing with the kids, I can’t find it in me to care. In fact, the moment cannot come fast enough.
Finally, finally, the evening comes to an end and the lights come on as Danny instructs everyone to begin cleanup.
I scour the hall for Eleanor, but there’s no sign of her.
Need, sharp and urgent, propels me to the stairs.
Passing Danny, I mutter something about making an important phone call, then I take the steps two at a time.
It’s quiet and dark on the top floor, and disappointment plummets through me as I stride along the hall and fling open my office door.
But there she is, waiting in the dark, her fairy lights glowing.
Thank fuck.
I shove the door closed, lock it, and turn to her with a low growl.
“Come here,” I demand, and she rises, crossing to me in an instant.
I don’t wait before taking her mouth, gripping her waist as I pull her in close. She whimpers, arms twining around my neck, and heat consumes me. It’s not enough. I need more.
I should send her home. Stop this freight train before it veers off the tracks.
But I can’t.
Maybe it’s the costume. Or the way she looked at me earlier. Whatever it is, I’m done pretending to be better than this. I’m not the man I thought I was, all control and restraint.
No. I’m dangerous. Reckless. A fucking caged animal who’s been denied too long.
And it’s not only me who wants it. Her hands are already at my belt, tugging with purpose, every trace of innocence gone. Just watching her fumble with the buckle has my cock thickening.
“God, Theo,” she rasps, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along my neck. “You look so fucking hot.”
“Shit, Eleanor.” I growl as she licks my throat. “I thought I looked absurd.”
She huffs a laugh against my skin, then sucks my earlobe into her mouth. “No.” The way she says it, like she’s as desperate for me as I am for her, makes my cock ache.
I reach for her hair, intending to pull it loose, and realize I’m still wearing my gloves. But when I move to take them off, she stops me with a shake of her head.
“Please don’t.” Her voice is a low, husky purr. “I want to be fucked by this sexy werewolf.”
Christ. I love when she curses like that.
“Here?” I ask, and she gives a fervent nod, finally undoing my belt, my zipper, cupping me through my underwear. Lust burns through me like wildfire, and any illusion of control slips away.
It’s late, I tell myself, as I plunder her mouth with my tongue. After school hours. No one’s up here.
And even if this is a terrible idea, there’s no way in hell I can stop.