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Chapter One
“I would give you everything.”
Honk!
“Jesus, slow down, River,” Sadie hissed, gripping her chest.
“The fucker literally just cut me off.” River motioned out the window at the red pickup truck in front of them, speeding ahead.
“Yes, but did you have to turn the window washer fluid on first?”
“Sadie, he was riding my ass.”
She rolled her eyes and relaxed back into her seat. “One day we’re going to get in a car wreck, and I suppose then I’d find out if ghosts do exist.”
“You’d make a pretty ghost.” A charming, sly smile played across River’s lips. His hand fell to her knee, squeezing gently. “But seriously, do you think I’d ever let anything happen to you?”
Sadie studied her husband’s face, his chiseled features, his light gray irises, the locks of dark hair swept behind his right ear. Even now, after a year of marriage and five years of being together, moths still swarmed within her at the sight of him. However, when she’d first met River Hawkins at the adult novelty store where they’d worked together, she’d been uncertain of him. But she’d fallen for his charm, the way he would quarrel with her over films, his caring and sweet side, the dark side of him that came out through his art. The art he’d started selling at an early age that she hadn’t known he’d become wealthy from.
“What if a ravenous monster from another dimension was crawling around our world and caught us both but only had an appetite to eat one of us…” A devious smile lifted at the corners of her lips as she spoke. “Who would you choose to be ground to death between its razor-sharp teeth?”
“Ah, that’s an easy question. I would choose me, my sweet nightmare.” River grinned, his hand squeezing her thigh once more before resting it against the steering wheel. “And who would you choose?”
“Why you, of course, my vicious dream.” Sadie laughed, recollecting when they’d first started using the nicknames for one another—it had been after a disagreement over what the top ten horror films of all time should be. A cliché tale to pass down to any future offspring they might have.
“You’re wrong. Vampires don’t do it for me,” Sadie argued, dusting the top of a shelf when her foot slipped on the step of a ladder and sent her careening backward.
Two arms caught her just as she was about to collide with the floor and break her neck. “Then what would, my sweet nightmare?”
River’s fingers drifted to her knee again, slowly skimming up to her thigh, her pulse speeding from his touch. “You’ll get a spanking later for that answer.”
“I hope you’ll be dressed in your finest monster attire.” Sadie waggled her eyebrows at him, then returned his hand to the steering wheel. “Now, keep quiet and watch the road, Victor. Your parents need you alive for their party.”
River groaned, fidgeting with the gray tie at his chest. “We leave as soon as boredom levels reach critical mass.” He was dressed as Victor from Corpse Bride, and she his dead counterpart, Emily. To this day, even though the character Emily had been dead, Sadie still wished they would’ve ended up together. Victoria was a sweet choice in the end for Victor, but Sadie believed the flame would’ve burned brighter if Emily had been his wife.
She peered out the window to the night sky, blanketing the city in ebony, only a few stars decorating its inky darkness. The sliver of a crescent moon smiled down at her through the trees lining the streets.
River steered the car down a lamplit street leading to a neighborhood full of mansions, each distinct in its own style. Bricked or stucco exteriors, some holding large balconies, others showing off massive windows. All having perfectly trimmed landscaping. His parents’ mansion looked like a modern-day castle, with the front portion curved and a cylinder of beige brick at its top. Vines wove through the iron bars of the balcony, and several stone angels stood in the garden, their hands folded in prayer.
While River drew the car to a stop in the long driveway, Sadie checked her makeup in the mirror. The blue body paint she’d meticulously applied wasn’t as smooth as she would’ve liked, and the dark eyebrows and decaying piece of flesh on her cheek weren’t perfect, but they would do. She would never be a special effects makeup artist, yet one day, possibly, her screenwriting dream—or beautiful nightmare—would come to fruition. It was something she’d focused on for the last five years since she’d turned eighteen. And thus far, there hadn’t even been a teensy piranha nibble.
Adjusting her wedding gown, Sadie ran her fingers through her blue wig, her brown hair hidden beneath. A real autumn never came to this part of Texas, and she knew her makeup and costume would be heavy against her the instant she stepped outside into the blasted humidity.
River helped her from the car, breathtaking in his suit of grays, his pinstriped pants, the costume perfectly fitting his lithe and muscular form. “You should’ve worn this on our wedding day,” he purred into her ear, his hand brushing across the curve of her hip, his light gray eyes meeting hers a moment later.
Warmth coursed through her at his touch, as it always did. “I should’ve.” Instead, she’d settled on a red gown with lace and tulle that mirrored the dress from one of her favorite classic horror comedies.
River circled his arm around Sadie’s waist, pulling her close, his honey and sandalwood scent enveloping her. He guided her along the curved sidewalk, beside the pristine shrub garden, toward the wide porch. Sadie rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, the maid, Valentina, answered, dressed in loose navy pants, a black blouse, and a silver bird mask hiding the top half of her face, only her deep brown eyes peering out.
“It’s good to see you, River,” Valentina said, her words coming out with a hint of a Spanish accent as she smiled. “And you as well, Sadie.” She was in her mid-fifties with gray streaks peppering her black braid and only a few fine lines near the edges of her mouth.
Valentina motioned them inside, then led them through the living room decorated with leather furniture, a grand piano, and large replicas of famous paintings hanging across the walls. They turned down the marble-floored hallway, enhanced with portraits of fashion gowns, that opened to the dining room where eight of the ten chairs were occupied around the rectangular ivory table set with glittering crystal and red roses.
River’s mother, Coral, sat at one end of the table, an ivory silk gown hugging her thin frame, and an alabaster mask, speckled with silver glitter, concealed half her face. Her hair, dark like River’s, hung in loose curls to her waist. Gabe, River’s father, was at the opposite head of the table, wearing a golden wolf mask, his gray hair swept back. The six guests—four women, two men—seated around the table all wore gowns and suits, along with ornate animal masks.
“I thought I said this was a masquerade party,” Coral said, the hint of a smile playing across her red lips as she studied her son.
Sadie side-eyed River. He’d never once mentioned a masquerade party, but she preferred what they were wearing over the matching styles of the others.
