Unmasked Desire

by McKenna Rogue

  After securing my kit in the back seat, I slid in next to her and smiled. “Where to, miss?”

  She rolled her eyes at the formality but gave me succinct directions to a small cottage on Willow Road.

  It was the antithesis of my house. Small, cozy, painted in springy yellow, with a flowerbed that had probably never even had a fake bone buried in it. Even the white picket fence around the front yard was quaint, it made me want to find a way to muss her perfect little world.

  And at the same time, it fit her. Polished, but approachable, like a house out of Pleasantville or something.

  “Where’s going to be best to set up?” I grabbed my kit and followed her to the front door.

  “I don’t know. How gory is this going to get?” She pursed her lips, like the idea of fake blood was too much to handle.

  “Probably not much worse than most women’s bathrooms.” I smiled. “We can do it in the bathroom if you want, or at the kitchen table. Anywhere you’re going to be comfortable.”

  Looking at the way her lips parted slightly, the way her eyelids dropped just a fraction, I was hardly thinking about makeup anymore.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Mayor wasn’t thinking about makeup either.

  “The kitchen’s fine then.” She smiled and led me through her house to her meticulously organized kitchen and sat at the table.

  Pulling out a hairdresser’s cape from my bag, I wrapped it over her shoulders and pursed my lips. “Do you have a hair tie? I wouldn’t want to get makeup in your hair.”

  She pulled one out of a drawer, and went to ponytail her hair, but before she could, I stole the tie and pointed at the chair.

  “Sit. Relax. I’ve got you.”

  She tensed, and I could tell she wasn’t used to being told what to do. But she sank into the chair, and I gently pulled her dark hair back off her shoulders, and then twisted it up into a bun, carefully securing the elastic so it wouldn’t pull.

  I could’ve run my fingers through her hair longer, touching the soft locks, finger-combing it. I didn’t know what it was about Angela, but I simultaneously wanted to keep pushing her, keep giving her little scares, and also protect her, take care of her.

  “What sort of makeup are you doing?” She sounded nervous, but she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, a movement I was starting to recognize as her way of showing confidence, when she wasn’t really feeling it.

  “Close your eyes and just let me work. I’ll show you when it’s all done.” I smirked, stepping back from her until she did as I asked.

  The first thing I did was measure out a few strategic prosthetics. A couple bloody gashes, a scar, even a bullet hole I was considering. I wanted to make her gory, but beautiful. I wanted her to see Halloween as something that wasn’t just scary, that wasn’t just ghoulish, creepy creatures, but also the beauty in it. The wonder of being able to take simple items, and completely change your look.

  I quickly noticed Angela was no stranger to having her makeup done, even if she’d never had it done like this. She sat still as a statue, her face relaxed and calm, keeping any expression out of it. As I started to apply one of the prosthetics just below the corner of her eye, I was sure she would open her eyes, if only to alleviate some of the curiosity I knew she was feeling. But she held her composure, letting me trace the bloody gash from her eye down to almost her jaw.

  The next cut I applied across her other cheekbone, this one smaller, more delicate.

  I left the others for the time being, cupping her chin in my hand as I studied her features, trying to decide the best way to make this gorgeous creature into something gruesome.

  When I hadn’t done anything in a while, she murmured softly, “Colton?”

  I pulled back, realizing I’d been fixated on her mouth. Too fixated. I couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t give in to that desire.

  How would it ever even work between us? She’d just end up avoiding me for the entire month of October every year.

  Unless I could somehow convince her whatever her fears were based in couldn’t get to her anymore, that Halloween wasn’t something she needed to hate or fear.

  I grabbed some green tinted makeup, gingerly applying it around her wounds, giving them a festering look, like rotting flesh that had split open.

  Then, I mottled the rest of her skin, working with yellows, browns, and makeup close to her skin tone, teasing out the undead look of a zombie.

  Finally, I finished it off in a way I’d never finished a zombie makeup before.

  I carefully gave her winged eyeliner. Bright red lips. A touch of glam to the otherwise horrifying features.

  I released her bun, enjoying the way her hair fell over her shoulders, and then asked, “Okay, you ready to see?”

  She swallowed noticeably, her body tense again as she opened her eyes and looked up at me. “Okay.”

  I held up the handheld mirror I kept with my kit, carefully keeping it at an angle I knew she wouldn’t be able to see.

  She took it from me and positioned it.

  The gasp that escaped her wasn’t as horrified as I expected. Her bright red lips parted, her eyes grew wide, and she stared at herself for a moment.

  “You did this?”

  “Yeah.” I waited nervously for more of a reaction.

  She turned her chin this way and that, studying her face. “I don’t know what to say.”

  There was a lot to say. My attraction to the mayor, while complicated, I understood. I hadn’t considered myself a necrophiliac, but the woman was gorgeous, even as a zombie and my libido didn’t care how weird or disturbing it made me.

  “I can’t say I ever would’ve thought to put these things together.” She tilted her head up at me, a smile curving her lips. “Maybe you are onto something, here.”

  “Do you want to be a zombie Victorian princess for the masquerade?” A grin spread over my face and I grabbed a couple other things. “Close your eyes again.”

  “Do you need my hair up again?”

  As much as I wanted to play with it again, I shook my head. “I can work around it.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Eyes closed.”

  She did as I asked, and I carefully traced out the shape of a cat-eye shaped mask on her face before filling it in with gentle swirls and curly-cues. I added a little more light-colored sparkle eyeshadow around her closed lids, and then stepped back again. The effect added to the glamor, but still maintained the monstrous ghoulishness. And something told me she’d tolerate a painted mask better than an actual one.

  “Okay. It’s rough, and I’d want to do it more carefully for the masque, but I think it’s a good start.”

  She opened her eyes and looked herself over again, her red lips parted in wonder. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I took the mirror from her hands, intending to set it down again, but then I found myself leaning forward. I pressed my lips to hers as my fingers slid into her hair, tangling a little as I deepened the kiss.

  Angela gasped against my lips, but she quickly softened, melting into me as I slanted my mouth over hers.

  Just as her tongue slicked over my lower lip, I pulled back, shaking my head. “Sorry. That was completely unprofessional.” I turned and started packing up my kit, unwilling to look at her. I’d just kissed the Mayor. In her own kitchen. In zombie makeup.

  “Colton…” Her fingertips just barely brushed against my arm before she let her hand fall again. “I think you should go.”

  The tone in her voice was hard to read. It almost sounded reluctant, wistful, needy. A complete contrast to what her words were saying.

  “I should drive you back to the capitol building, so you can get your car.” Or back to my place, so I could take you up to my bedroom and find out just how sweet you are everywhere.

  “Oh, yeah, thanks.” She got up and took off the cape, folding it carefully. “I should probably get some work done too.”

  I was still a little stunned by the intens
ity of the kiss. I could hardly believe I’d kissed her. And more stunned by the fact she’d kissed me back.

  We headed out to the car, but Angela refused to meet my eyes.

  It wasn’t until I was pulling to a park in front of the building that I realized she hadn’t washed off any of my makeup.

  And as she got out of the car, I made no effort to remind her. The red lips were a little smudged, but they were still nearly perfect, and I doubted anyone would suspect we’d kissed.

  Or that I’d wanted more.

  7

  Angela

  “Mayor Bartell!” Tru’s shocked voice jolted me out of whatever sort of daze Colton had left me in.

  “Good afternoon, Tru. I’ll be in my office. Do we have anything that needs to be done the rest of the day?”

  Tru followed me into the office, and once the door was closed, she shoved me into my private bathroom. “What the hell is that?”

  Oh, God. I’d forgotten about the makeup. I’d forgotten everything, except Colton’s lips on mine. And the ache between my thighs because of it.

  “Mr. Black wanted to try out a makeup option for the masquerade. What do you think?” I piled my hair up on top of my head with one hand, as if this was entirely intentional. “I was thinking of an up-do with it. Maybe some curls.”

  Tru gawked at me in the mirror. “Who are you, and what have you done with my boss?”

  “It’s just makeup. It’ll wash off.” I turned and smiled at her, trying to ignore the fact my lipstick was smudged, and my hair was mussed. How had I been so stupid? Not only did I let him kiss me, but I let him leave me a mess too?

  “Yeah, but it’s Halloween makeup. It’s a mask.”

  “It’s makeup. That’s all.” I grabbed a few paper towels, but I didn’t go to clean it off. Yet. “Is Taylor still looking to talk about extra street parking?”

  “Always.”

  I grinned and headed back out to my office, swapping my running shoes for heels. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

  Before she could stop me, I headed across the square to Taylor’s shop.

  Only when I was close did I slow down, moving a little stiffer, the way I figured a freshly dead zombie would move.

  The chime over the door announced my arrival, and as Taylor looked over, I let out a long, pained groan that sounded vaguely like, “Brains.”

  I didn’t know what got into me. I never would’ve thought to do this before Colton. Before his makeup. Before his kiss. But now? I wanted Taylor to have a little fear, a little wariness, before she pestered me for parking she knew she couldn’t have.

  “Mayor Bartell!” Taylor’s eyes grew wide, and she put the ice cream counter between us as I approached.

  I dragged my foot as I walked over, my eyes set on hers in what I hoped was a dead look. “No parking…” The grumbling noise coming from my voice was hardly familiar, but I’d seen enough scary movie previews to know how zombies should talk.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Just leave the shop. You’re scaring the customers.”

  At that, I spun around and smiled at everyone. “I’d like to invite everyone to the Halloween Masquerade. The theme is Victorian Monster Masquerade.” I was talking out of my ass, but I knew Colton would help me get everything together. Somehow, I trusted he’d have my back on this.

  The applause as I left the ice cream shop surprised me, and before I was even back to my office, I had Tru on the phone.

  “We need to make flyers. We need the town to be ready for Victorian Monster Masquerade.”

  “I’ll get our graphic designer on it. Let’s talk through what you’re thinking.”

  I wanted to call Colton. I wanted to celebrate the announcement, to let him know I’d embraced the idea, if only for a moment.

  But how could I explain to him the excitement? How could I make him see how much of an achievement this was for me?

  Instead, I headed back to my office and spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Tru, discussing the little bits of idea I had. I wanted to generate excitement and get the flyers up. I may have been dreading the entire thing, but I wanted the town to have their damn holiday.

  It was almost a week before Colton and I could get together again.

  I heard them in the backyard before I saw them.

  Of course, it had to be the backyard.

  But as I carefully walked through the secret shortcut he’d shown me, I wasn’t quite as worried about setting off a prop. In fact, now that I’d seen some of them in action, I wasn’t quite as scared of his backyard.

  In the daylight.

  “Mr. Black, are you sure I’m doing this right?” The voice sounded young, almost like an elementary school kid.

  I peeked around a large oak, watching as Colton helped him string up a prop and hoist it into the air. “It’s perfect, Micah. Want to see how it works?”

  Micah nodded, and I watched with bated breath as Colton guided him to step on the pressure pad.

  The goblin-esque creature skittered around inside its cage, bouncing off the bars and making an awful squawk that made my skin crawl.

  But Micah was delighted.

  And so was Colton. His face lit up, much like the kid’s had, watching with glee as the creature bounced from one side of the cage to the other before it slowed and drooped down into a standing position again.

  “Micah, I think this might be one of the best creatures yet.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder, smiling from ear to ear.

  I wanted to know the story. I wanted to know who he was, and why Colton had taken such a special interest.

  “What did you think, Mayor Bartell?”

  Colton’s voice lured me out from behind the tree, and I stepped around to smile at them both. “Very creepy.”

  Micah blushed a little and looked up at Colton. “Mr. Black, I should get home, check on my mom. Do you have any others you need me to work on?”

  Colton shook his head. “Not right now. But I tell you what, I’m probably going to need a super special helper to help Mayor Bartell and me with the masquerade. Do you think you can help?”

  Micah nodded emphatically before he gave Colton a quick hug and ran off toward the gate, completely unfazed by the props he set off along the way.

  “A friend of yours?” I smirked at Colton and took a couple steps closer.

  “Sort of. I understand what he’s going through. He needs an adult in his life he can trust. Someone he can talk to.” Colton didn’t elaborate. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the house. “I’m glad you’re here. I have some things to talk to you about.”

  I figured we’d stop in the kitchen. But Colton kept going, pulling me along behind him, until we ended up in a home movie theater, complete with oversized armchairs and a popcorn machine.

  And all sorts of horror movie posters and props lining the walls.

  I walked along under them, trying to find the appeal. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “First, I wanted to say I heard about your stunt the other day in Taylor’s ice cream parlor. It certainly sounds like you’ve built up some town buzz.” He smirked at me. “Now you have to deliver.”

  I nodded. “That’s where you come in.” I’d been thinking about it, trying to come up with ideas. “I was thinking we could build a façade of an old Victorian house behind the stage, and border it with a railing, like they’re playing on an old porch. And then have them all dressed in Victorian finery?”

  “I can do their makeup. Add a dead element.” He nodded, like he liked my ideas. “I hired a caterer.”

  I paused under the poster for Scream and picked up the white mask, looking at it gingerly before I held it up in front of my face. “A regular caterer, or a Halloween-y one?”

  He chuckled as he crossed the space between us, moving close enough he could almost touch. “What exactly would a Halloween-y caterer serve?”

  “I don’t know. Eyeballs and worms?”

  My breath caught as he w
rapped his fingers around my wrist and brought my hand up, so the mask was now in front of his face.

  I hadn’t thought much about holding up the mask myself, but now that he had it, the old fears were coming back.

  Except, I was still in control. He hadn’t taken the mask. He hadn’t put it on. I could’ve dropped it, and all that would’ve been left was Colton.

  I pulled it away and set it back on its display. “Well?”

  “It’s a regular caterer. But I imagine they’ll probably make some Halloween treats. And of course, there’ll have to be the big bowl of candy.” He stepped forward, invading my space again. “You picked up the mask.”

  I nodded. “Was I not allowed to touch?”

  “You can touch anything you want, Angela.” The low tone in his voice made me wonder just how much he was talking about. Was it just his props? Or something more?

  He surprised me by bending down. In an instant, I was in his arms, and he carried me over to one of the armchairs.

  But rather than setting me in my own chair, he sat, keeping me in his lap. “I want to know why masks bother you.”

  Even the thought of sharing my story had me fidgeting and glancing around the room to find my nearest exit. It wasn’t a story I told many people. And it wasn’t one I ever thought I’d share during my reign as Mayor. As much as I wanted that piece of me to be at rest, it was still lying in wait to spring me into a panic attack.

  “I was a kid. Seven.” I stared at the empty movie screen and settled in against Colton. “A few days before Halloween, I saw a trio of clowns, all dressed up in bright colors, full makeup, outside the school where my parents usually picked me up. I watched them intently, but I wasn’t about to get close. I’d learned about stranger danger, and even though they were clowns, and my parents had told me clowns weren’t scary, I stayed back. It didn’t stop them from approaching me, though.” I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the emotions that bubbled up every time I thought about it. Therapist or not, I didn’t want Colton to see me cry over past traumas.