Thinking brave thoughts, she drew in a heavy breath, starting through the maze before she could talk herself out of it.
Soft music played in the background, a hauntingly lovely melody that didn’t sound as if it belonged in a place like this.
And now that she thought about it, something did feel suspiciously off about the room she was in.
The first thing she noticed was just how quiet it was. While it had been a few minutes between the kids she saw going in and her entering, she at least expected to hear their laughter of screams or something.
Instead, there was only silence and music and the sound of her own blood racing in her ears.
The thought of being alone in here—or maybe it was the thought that she was the last one to enter—only made the feelings of anxiety worse.
She really needed to get out before she had a panic attack.
Following the glowing symbols on the floor, she gave them her full attention, only allowing herself a moment to see her reflection in the distorted mirrors.
“AHHH!”
She wasn’t sure who screamed louder—her or the man who jumped out at her in an IT costume, a mask covering his face.
Eleven years old or in her twenties, her reaction was the same.
Mariya took off, running as fast as her feet could carry her toward what she hoped was the exit. She could still hear the clown close at her heels, his footsteps impossibly loud.
Never again.
There was no amount of money in the world that would ever make her agree to do this a second time.
And when she finally burst through the exit doors, surprising the pair of men standing on the other side enjoying their hot dogs, she gulped in as much air as she could, feeling as if her heart was about to beat right out of her chest.
But it wasn’t until the blood stopped rushing in her ears that she finally perceived they weren’t alone—that someone else was standing near and laughing.
She looked up only to find Christophe standing there, a familiar mask dangling from his fingers.
Murder.
She was going to commit murder.
“Come on, don’t tell me you’re still upset.”
It probably didn’t help his case that he was still smiling and fighting not to laugh despite the hour that had passed since they were back from the fun house. But the disgruntled look she was shooting him now was almost as good as her scream of terror from earlier.
He had to admit, a part of him hadn’t believed she was actually afraid—that maybe once she finally experienced it again now that she was older, her reaction wouldn’t be nearly as strong.
How wrong he’d been.
Mariya wasn’t docile by any means, but even he had to admit that when she’d started cursing him out in Russian, her language had been far more colorful than his own was on any given day.
But now that his fun was over, he knew he needed to make it up to her.
He ran his fingers over the soft skin of her ankle, glancing up to see if he could inspire a reaction out of her, but she was determined to ignore him and that just wouldn’t do.
Tightening his hold, he used her relaxed state to drag her down the bed before flipping her over, almost smiling at the wide-eyed look on her face.
But where there had been fear was now something else—something that made his jeans feel hella uncomfortable.
“I’m not above groveling,” he whispered, mentally working out how quickly he could get her out of that leotard and whatever she was wearing beneath.
But her breathy laugh made him look up.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, gesturing for him to get on his knees. “You haven’t begun to grovel yet.”
Christophe grinned.
It was still worth every second.
FIN
Chapter 6
Back in NYC …
It didn’t matter how long she’d been sitting at her laptop, when Winter Banes was working, everything else was forgotten. She might have been elbow deep in code, her fingers barely keeping up with how fast her thoughts were going, but even in moments like these, there was nothing else she would rather be doing.
And for the last week, this was all she had been able to think about. As soon as she finished, she’d be able to actually take a break and maybe have some time off to do something other than code, but for the time being, nothing else seemed remotely important.
Even when she had taken a vacation with Răzvan some months ago and her feet had been buried in the sane and she’d been able to appreciate the magnificent view Răz made coming out of the ocean water in board shorts, she’d still been—unbeknownst to anyone else—working on an algorithm that would make her search, and what she was doing now, easier.
It was only weeks ago when she hadn’t been sure when she would ever finish with this job—if she would ever finish it considering how daunting the task was—but now, she was a few keystrokes from completion and there was nothing that could tear her away from her keyboard.
Not only because she was almost done, but also because this was the biggest secret she’d been keeping from the man she loved.
From the first time she’d met him, Răz had never been much of a lurker. If she said she was working, he never interfered and he never delved into her work without her express permission first.
And even when they were in the same room together, he never looked over her shoulder.
He was a patient man—the complete opposite of her, really—and he’d rather wait for her to come to him with whatever it was she was working on in her own time.
That was just one thing she loved about him.
But the problem with that kind of trust … she hd no idea how he would take the secret she’d been keeping from him, especially because it was more about him than her.
He didn’t know she was still looking into the orphanage he had lived in for a few years during his adolescence—a place of horrors that had not only caused him such pain and turmoil, but it had also affected the others as well.
Men that had become something like brothers to her too ever since she and Răz had become a thing.
If she could, she wanted to bring them closure, especially Răz because unlike the others as far as she knew, he still suffered in ways the others didn’t.
Night terrors plagued him almost every time he attempted to sleep, agonizing him in ways she couldn’t imagine, even as he had no memory of them once morning came.
There was a chance, of course, that he would still suffer despite her efforts to slay his demons, but she had to at least try because nothing hurt her more than when she saw him suffering.
And if there was anything she could do to stop it—if she could find the men responsible and make sure they paid for what they had done—well … it was a reckoning they certainly had coming.
Winter had just finished entering the last line of code when the alarm on her phone went off, stilling her fingers over the keyboard.
Once a year, she had a very particular song set to go off at exactly midnight on Hallow’s Eve.
A song that made a smile bloom on her face as she thought of the movie it came from. Because really, could one even say they’d lived if they had never seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?
Most people loved Christmas and thought it was the most magical time of the year. They took great pride in putting up their trees and donning the limbs with shiny baubles and tinsel. They loved to sit around the fire roasting marshmallows and chestnuts while opening presents surrounded by family.
To Winter, there was no greater holiday than the one when everything spooky was celebrated and revered—when the world reflected everything her black heart adored.
Finally, it was her time.
Now, more than ever, she was thankful to be finished because now she could devote her attention elsewhere.
Her fatigue forgotten for the time being, she grabbed her phone—the chorus just starting as the song continued to play—and hurried out of the roo
m Răz had converted into a giant office for her, her sock clad feet sliding over the polished concrete floors.
She could hardly contain her excitement as she took the stairs down two at a time, humming the song beneath her breath as she went. Nearly to the bottom, she spotted Răz coming around the corner, oblivious to her rising excitement as the Time Warp reached its climax.
Or at least he was oblivious until he caught sight of her.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw her, even as he remained blissfully unaware of the significance behind the song she was listening to.
He knew she had eclectic tastes when it came to music—he’d even commented on it a time or two whenever she found a new song to listen to—but this was their first Halloween together and he had no idea what he was in store for.
But he’d find out.
Right as she reached the bottom step, Winter launched herself at him, laughing when he caught her.
His hands were impossibly warm on the strip of skin exposed by the crop top she wore.
“Do you know what today is?” she asked, silencing the music before she moved her fingers to the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
From the very first time she’d met him, he had always kept his hair short to the scalp, but over the course of their relationship, he’d decided to grow it out after she confessed her curiosity as to what it would look like.
Răz still had his reservations about it—she didn’t miss the way he tended to stiffen a bit whenever she touched it—but he was coming around.
Shaking his head at her question, he carried her into the kitchen, sitting her on the island before walking over to the fridge.
“We’re officially less than twenty-four hours away from Halloween,” she stressed. “We have to celebrate.”
He offered a soundless chuckle at that before he lifted his hands to sign,—If you want.—
Her gasp made him look up, but he didn’t seem to understand her surprise. Her hand over her heart, Winter asked, “Are you being serious? Have you never celebrated before?”
Răz shrugged—shrugged!—as if it was no big deal at all.
“How have you lived this long on your own?” she asked, genuinely aghast.
In their time together, she had started to notice he smiled more when he thought what she was saying was cute … and illogical.
But how could he not see that he’d been missing out?!
“Well, as Chairman of the Halloween Committee—”
His lips turned down at the corners as he contemplated that. —How many are on this committee?—
“Totally not important, but—”
—How long has this committee been around? I have questions.—
She punched his shoulder as he passed, though she might as well have been hitting a brick wall for all the damage she did.
“What we need to focus on is the fact that you haven’t had a proper Halloween. You should let me fix that.”
He seemed to consider that a moment before nodding. —What do you have in mind?—
At that, Winter could only smile.
He had no idea what he had just agreed to.
Chapter 7
Răz
There were two things Răzvan was absolutely sure of.
One, he would die for Winter if there was ever a time that called for it.
And two, he had seriously underestimated her love for Halloween.
The most he or his brothers had ever done to celebrate any one holiday was the year Thanatos took it upon himself to find the smallest, scraggliest thing he could find and prop it up as a Christmas tree.
He was the only one sentimental enough to do as much. The rest of them … well, after the life they lived, what was there to celebrate?
Which was why he felt a little perplexed standing in the middle of the store dedicated to all things spooky—as Winter had described it—as she navigated the aisles, packing the shopping cart full of enough decor they could start their own store.
“And this one?” she asked, popping out holding a giant spider that looked impossibly real and a Starbucks tumbler in the other hand with the words, Yes, I’m A Witch inscribed along the side of it.
When she mentioned throwing a party, he hadn’t given it much thought before agreeing.
What she wanted, she got.
But now that they were in this store working on a third basket full of items, it was clear he’d underestimated what she had in mind.
—Is that one absolutely necessary?— he asked, thinking about the three other giant creepy things she was buying that would get the job done.
Her smile was placating as she strolled past him, patting his hand as she went. “Precious man.”
Which made it clear her questions were rhetorical. Whatever her vision, she was going to implement it regardless of what he had to say about it.
Not that he was complaining.
He couldn’t remember the last time he or any of his brothers had truly celebrated anything. And as far as he could remember, he had never, in all of his life, celebrated this one.
In large part because he had always assumed it was a child’s holiday meant to gorge on sweets, but Winter was determined to show him there was more to it than that.
She had gone back to browsing the shelves, picking out the last of what she wanted, oblivious to everything around her.
Including the idiot that hadn’t stopped staring from the moment they arrived.
Răzvan liked to think he had learned patience over his long life—especially with the trials he’d had to go through—but he found he had none when it came to things like this.
Men ogled Winter.
He understood why—even he couldn’t take his eyes off her most days—but that didn’t mean he wanted to share. The very idea made his palms itch.
The man, who had picked up and browsed over the same magazine twice didn’t seem to realize he was in danger—that his life was hanging on by a fucking thread of—
“No, Răz,” Winter said with that same sing-song quality that calmed the worst of his anger. Her voice also prompted the man to look in his direction. “You can’t kill anyone today. It’s too much of a cliche.”
She might have been joking, but the man didn’t know that as he visibly paled a scurried away.
For the best.
It took more than seven trips to bring everything up into the loft and that was even after he summoned Thanatos for help.
“What the hell is all of this?” he asked, peering into the bags with interest.
“We’re throwing a rager,” Winter called from somewhere upstairs.
Thanatos’ brows shot up in surprise as he looked to Răzvan for confirmation. The only thing he could do was shrug.
“Are we having … guests?” he asked, as if the very idea was repugnant. And considering he was the friendliest of all of them, one would expect him to be happy about this.
“Just a couple of friends,” Winter said as she came downstairs, her outfit changed to a pair of Răz’s sweats that were rolled several times at the waist. “You know, nothing major.”
—Which means?—
Winter had the unique ability to downplay things, but he saw right through that innocent act as she started unloading the bags.
“Not too many?”
—How many?—
“To be fair, I only sent out about thirty-six invitations.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“But I think Diego posted the invite in the forums and maybe a smidge more are going to show up, but I totally have it under control. No worries.”
Răz had no time to argue that before she was putting them to work, alternating between helping and making a few calls.
Three hours was all it took to convert the loft from an average living space to something out of a Halloween lover’s dreams.
There were fake spiderwebs that Thanatos despised, much to Invictus’ amusement, who’d shown up near the end and hadn’t hesitated in
helping though he probably had no idea what was going on, and even an inflatable witch that greeted Răz the moment he walked out of his bedroom afterward.
She’d outdone herself in more ways than one.
Răz was just coming downstairs when he spotted Vic coming out of Thanatos’ room wearing an outfit that made him blink twice.
—What the hell are you supposed to be?—
Invictus looked down at himself, not seeming bothered at all that he was in red and black spandex with a pair of swords strapped across his back.
“I think she said a superhero.”
“Anti-hero,” Winter called from the top of the stairs, prompting Răz to turn in her direction. “Wade Wilson is an anti-hero and don’t you forget it.”
Răz heard every word she said, had even watched her lips move during the beginning of what she was saying, but when he got his first good look at what she was wearing, nothing else factored in.
Her gray haired was up in two pigtails, the ends dyed red on one side and blue on the other. But unlike the character she was meant to represent—because it had been one of many movies she’d forced him to sit through—her outfit had been slightly modified.
It was every bit as revealing. And the shorts were glorified panties that had his hands clenching into fists. And strapped to each thigh were black garters and a set of his throwing knives.
“Wow.”
Thanatos voices the thought repeating itself in Răz’s head, but while his first instinct was to nod and agree, the next was to frown over at his brother who had no qualms about staring.
Logically, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Thanatos had never been the sort to make a move on a female unless both he and Invictus were interested, but that didn’t stop the raging thing inside of Răzvan to react to the sight of him staring.
“I’d be careful there, Than. This is Răz’s first time seeing my costume,” Winter commented thoughtfully, not bothering to hide her amusement as she came down the stairs. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’m all yours.”
This, she said, with a brush of her hand across his chest as she passed.
Tricks & Treats: A Wild Bunch Halloween Novella Page 4
