The Wicked Trilogy by S. Massery
The Masquerade Ball
Bonus Scene from Wicked Dreams
Halloween
Caleb
My uncle loungesacross from me, swirling whiskey in a glass. It’s almost too regal—like he was born to be splashed across magazines, framed with box lights. Features amplified. He keeps his eyes on the smoldering log in the fireplace.
He used to be famous, but now… Washed up and washed out, forced into retirement early, he occupies his time by being a miserable bastard.
It isn’t too often that I’m summoned, but when I am, there isn’t much choice in the matter.
Girls’ laughter floated through the halls when I first walked in, but they quickly fell into silence. I wondered briefly if they knew I wasn’t welcome here. When I crossed the threshold, the whole house seemed to shudder.
The house, like my uncle, is too regal. Gleaming hardwood floors, pristinely kept and barely used furniture. In some part of the house, there is a more relaxed room. A television, a threadbare couch. But it isn’t anywhere guests would stumble upon it.
Uncle wants his guests uncomfortable.
I take a sip of my whiskey, keeping my face smooth as it etches a burning path down my throat. Since I was fifteen, he’s let me have an occasional glass. I hate it.
He’s scolded me for making faces.
He’s scolded me for a lot.
“Caleb,” Uncle snaps.
I raise an eyebrow.
“I asked you about the girl.”
Margo. He knows her name just as sure as he knows mine.
“Why?”
“I’m not allowed to inquire about my nephew’s girlfriend?” He reaches over and picks up a familiar box.
One that I had definitely left in my car.
He opens it, raising the gold mask I bought for Margo. “An excessive expense, don’t you think?”
It came from a costume shop. The fact that it’s gold is his only point of contention. I notice that he didn’t bother to retrieve mine, which was sitting beside hers.
I’ve been planning this night since Margo’s second trip back down memory lane. I can’t shake the expression on her face from when she saw the scratches on her bedroom door.
I’ve concluded that she’s repressed the past.
I should’ve assumed as much on the first day of school, when she looked happy to see me. Wide-eyed, flushed, but… not scared.
Not yet.
“Is there a point to this visit?” I ask him. I force myself to take another sip.
“Just wondering where your priorities are.”
“Maybe a phone call would’ve sufficed.” I drain the rest of my glass and stand. “As it is, I need to go.”
He watches me through narrowed eyes, mimicking my movement and swallowing the rest of his drink. “Very well.”
I step forward and take the box from his hands, meeting his stare. He doesn’t move. Barely releases the box. With sure movements, I straighten the mask and close the lid.
Being summoned by him is a pain. Yet there are worse consequences for ignoring him.
Every reaction has an opposite and equal reaction. Dad’s voice thrums through me like a warning.
“Careful around your uncle,” Dad said often and loudly.
Still, he’s family. And I was raised to know that family comes before all else.
“Goodbye, Uncle,” I say, inclining my chin. I don’t wait for his response before I show myself out. Pointless. It’s a power play, every fucking time.
Sometimes I go against the grain and leave his calls unanswered, just to fuck with him.
It never ends well.
Once I’m back in my car, I can breathe easier. His family lives in a huge manor on a hill, next to other mansions with yards separated by iron and flat-topped hedges. I pause at the end of their driveway, shooting a quick text to Eli.
Me: Girls are getting ready. I’m on my way to you.
He sends back a thumbs up emoji.
I stop at the tailor and pick up my suit. It’s dark blue, a few shades off of the bracelet I found in Margo’s room.
I changed my plans slightly once I realized how much she had truly shut away. Almost all of the important memories—what our parents did, what she did, and the subsequent unravelling—are gone.
I’m going to drag them back one piece at a time.
After the tailor, I head to the jeweler. He was tasked with the near-impossible job of impressing me. At the counter, he lays out the new bracelets.
Surprisingly, my heart skips.
Yes.
Sometimes I hear the echo of the kids we once were. Bringing Margo back to that place, where we were young and carefree… I’m being selfish. I want her smiles as much as I want her tears. I’ll take it all.
Her pain and pleasure.
Her misery and happiness.
“We’re married until these fall off,” she had told me, holding up bracelets made of glittering threads. She had learned to braid at a weekday summer camp, complex weaves that made spirals or twists. We were eight, maybe nine years old.
I lift the bracelet that I had claimed long ago, which is now entombed in a metal cage. Protection. Entrapment. I’m not sure which line of thinking Margo will travel. But the reality is that there’s no coming back from this.
These won’t fall off.
She’s mine.
Now. Forever.
“It’s perfect,” I say.
The color scheme is set. Blue and gold, just like the bracelet. Another thing to nudge her mind into remembering.
If Riley didn’t do her job—guiding Margo to the right color dress—there will be hell to pay.
Theo and Liam are already at Eli’s house. They both decided to go stag. One is hung up on another girl. And the other… he has a bet with Eli to see how many girls he can hook up with in one night.
I leave Margo’s bracelet and our masks in my car, lifting my suit out and draping it over my arm. My friends’ laughter spills outside, and I shake my head. Eli and Liam are loud. Theo will be messing around, but he moves way too quietly—like he’s just as fucking haunted as me.
“Ah, the king has returned,” Eli shouts, spotting me.
I roll my eyes. He has Liam in a headlock, his knuckles digging into Liam’s scalp. It only lasts a second before Liam escapes it, jumping on Eli’s back.
“They been like this the whole time?” I ask Theo.
He sighs. “Unfortunately.”
I follow him up to Eli’s room, where their suits are hanging on the door. I add mine and cross to the window.
“What’s the plan?” Theo asks.
I glance back at him.
“You know, with Margo. Since you’ve been toying with her.”
“Toying with her? Your little game, walking into class with her on your arm—” I shake my head. “I’d bet you didn’t tell her your ulterior motives.”
“What, that you weren’t the only one who needed a push?” He smirks. “No, I didn’t mention it.”
“So shut your fat mouth, then,” I grumble. “We all have secrets.”
“What’s your mom say?”
I eye him. “She’s indifferent.”
Theo grunts.
“For now,” I allow.
Eli and Liam race up the stairs.
“Can we borrow your car?” Liam asks me.
“No.”
“Caleb—”
“No.”
Theo snorts. “What’d you forget?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Theo answers. “A tie? Corsage?”
“Dress shoes,” Liam mutters.
I snicker. “Dumb fucker.”
“If Theo hadn’t given me a ride—”
“Eli can take you,” I suggest, looking at my housemate. I give him a wide smile. He’s been getting on my nerves lately. Too much energy. “He probably forgot something, too.”
“Dick,” Eli says. He shifts. “But I did get toothpaste on my tie—”
Theo laughs.
I turn back to the window. Liam and Eli give me a headache sometimes. But there’s no one I’d rather be around…
Except Margo.
The thought comes out of nowhere and knocks the wind out of my sails. It’s no secret that I’ve let myself become fixated on Margo. But maybe the obsession runs deeper than I care to admit.
“You okay?” Theo asks.
I spin around in time to catch the lacrosse ball flying my way. I snag it before it can bounce off my nose.
“We’ve got an hour. Let’s work on our passes,” he suggests.
I shrug, but I’m grateful for the distraction. We grab our lacrosse sticks—Theo keeps his in his trunk for moments like this, and mine is in my room—and spread out across Eli’s backyard. His first pass is solid. I grin at him, the weight of the stick in my hand comfortable and familiar. We’re good at this. I throw it back harder.
It clears my mind.
“Uncle David called,” I say mid-throw.
Theo barely catches it. It was wide, just outside of his reach. Not a good excuse.
He cradles the ball and squints at me. “You avoid him like the plague.”
“When I can get away with it.”
He snaps it back to me. “What’d he want?”
“Nothing good,” I mutter.
Just wondering where your priorities are. Like I needed reminding.
I know where my priorities are, thank you very much.
Eli and Liam return and join us, and we spend the afternoon like that. We play a two-on-two game, although Liam warns me not to tackle anyone.
I grin, promising to save my sliding tackles for the opponent—or Ian.
The sun dips low in the sky, and Eli calls an end to the game. There’s a new feeling in the air, or maybe it’s just me. My thoughts curve away from my friends, flashing down dark roads, until I land on Margo.
Her bag is in Eli’s car. I already dug through it once she was gone, morbidly curious to see what she would bring to wear tonight. The foster system must’ve shaped her into a light packer, because she didn’t bring much of anything.
A t-shirt and leggings, clean underwear. Toiletries. She didn’t bring any makeup, though. Just a hairbrush with dark strands still caught in its teeth, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, facewash.
Something twisted in my chest.
I’m still trying to decide if it was a good or bad thing.
Once we’re ready—showered and hair combed, suits on—Theo and Liam pile into Theo’s car and I slide into mine. Eli will grab me from the hotel after we check in, then we’ll head to meet the girls.
Finally, finally, we get to the Jenkins’s house.
I pocket the small box with the bracelet in it and grimace at the expression on Eli’s face.
“What?”
“I know what you’re doing.” Eli drums his hands on the steering wheel, looking up at Margo’s window.
There’s a flash of movement against the glass.
“What’s that?” I ask, keeping my voice level.
What is it with my friends trying to pry into my life lately? Eli and I have been best friends since middle school. He knows me and my interest in Margo just as I am aware of his fixation on Riley.
He shoots me a look. “You’re playing with your food.”
Hmm.
I shake my head and get out of the truck. Soon, I’ll be alone with Margo. But until then—pleasantries.
Lenora smiles when she sees us. “Oh, you two are so handsome!”
I shouldn’t expect Margo to rush down the stairs, but I do. And I’m a little disappointed when she doesn’t.
Eli shifts. “Where are the girls?”
“Finishing up,” Lenora answers.
Robert hands both of us glasses of water, winking. He says something and Eli answers, but I couldn’t tell you what they said. My attention wanders around the house.
I pause next to a picture of Josie, the Jenkins’ daughter. I doubt Margo has realized that this house is still a shrine to Josie Jenkins. There are pictures of her everywhere.
“Want me to go first?” Riley asks Margo at the top of the stairs.
I straighten, twisting toward her voice. I’m more eager to see Margo than I’d care to admit.
Across the room, Eli snaps to attention.
It’s cute how smitten he is, but I’m not sure Riley is aware of his ghosts. If she isn’t, she soon will be.
She appears on the stairs in a slinky black dress. It’s ostentatious, but one glance at Eli, and I realize he has a differing opinion. He’s practically drooling.
“Where’s Margo?” I ask, breaking their staring contest.
Riley shoots me a look. “Oh, she’s coming.”
And you’ll be in trouble, she doesn’t say.
I turn my attention back to the stairs. The top step creaks. I move closer, holding my breath.
Margo steps onto the landing, and my lungs stop working. It isn’t the dress—which is beautiful, the exact shade of blue I had been hoping for—it’s the look on her face. The lipstick accentuating her full lips. Her eyes, wide and dark.
The possessiveness I’ve been fighting crawls up my throat.
I hold my hand out for her, smirking when she slips it into mine. She can’t stop staring at me, her gaze moving down my body and then back up.
I lean forward, my lips crazing her ear. “You’re stunning.” It’s a compliment just for her—not for her foster parents behind us, or our friends. Just her. “And later, I’m going to fuck you senseless in your dress.”
The blush that rises to her cheeks is priceless.
I had put our masks—still in their boxes—on the table when we first arrived. As I pick it up and hand it to her, I try to shove away thoughts of my uncle’s fingers on her mask. Tainting it.
She lifts the lid. Her eyes widen. She traces it with a finger, then looks up at me. Her lips part, but no words come out.
I think that means she likes it.
Sometimes it’s easy to read the thoughts in Margo’s head based on the expression on her face. She’s always been an open book. There are moments when I second guess myself… like now. When I go out on a fucking limb like this.
“And yours?” she asks.
I show her.
The smile flickers across her face.
Lenora claps, drawing our attention. I barely hear a word of it, because I can’t stop staring at Margo.
Dutifully, we take pictures. I keep my hand pressed to the small of Margo’s back, enjoying her occasional shiver. The dress is backless. Sexy. If I wasn’t sure I’d already scared away every guy in school, I’d be anxious for tonight.
But surprisingly, I’m ready to enjoy it.
And there’s still one more surprise.
Picture after picture, we smile. Masks on, masks off. I focus on the strands of pearls braided into Margo’s hair. It’s fitting that she should choose a crown braid, walking in on my arm. It’ll send a message.
Finally, I say, “We should go.”
Eli shoots me a relieved look. Lenora looks disappointed, then promptly has a meltdown about Josie. Her daughter’s been dead for years. She had another foster kid who aged out who probably went to dances. But this moment reminds her of the past?
The strangest things will remind you.
I shake off the bad feeling. This has nothing to do with Margo. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow…
Tomorrow is a new day.
After we excuse ourselves, we climb into Eli’s truck. Margo stays close to me in the backseat, practically glued to my side. I run my hand up and down her arm.
“I have something for you,” I say.
Alarm flashes across her face.
“Nothing bad.” Not yet.
“I hope not,” she says, smiling.
“Close your eyes.”
Once she does, I take her hand and flip it palm up. I set the small box on it as we pull into the parking lot of the hotel.
“Open,” I whisper.
Confusion. She starts to bite her lip, then stops herself.
Eli and Riley leave us alone, and I lean closer. “Open it.”
Her fingers shake as she removes the lid. The bracelet—one of the two she made for us—is curled delicately on a piece of foam. The other is on my wrist, tucked under the cuff of my shirt.
“I… I made this. A version of it, anyway.”
“You did.” I pick up the bracelet. “Do you remember when?”
“I made two.”
I show her the one on my wrist. If she lets me put this on her…
Hell, even if she doesn’t, she’s mine. This is just a physical reminder for her. And it’s tied to much more than that day.
It has to do with everything after.
We climb out of the truck and I take her clutch, putting it in my jacket pocket. There will be no distractions tonight—just her and me.
Before we go in, I pull her to a stop and slide my hand to the back of her neck. She’s delicate, like a hummingbird, and I can’t resist tasting her. Our lips touch once, softly, and then again. She presses into me, mouth opening. Our tongues dance, and a low groan comes from the back of her throat.
When we separate, her chest is heaving. I swipe my thumb under her lip, where we smeared lipstick. I’m sure I have some on my face, too. It’s part of the territory. She reaches up and mirrors my actions, wiping it away.
And then she smiles. “Thank you.”
I tilt my head. “For what?”
She shrugs, but her eyes betray her. She looks at the bracelet, then back up to me.
A dangerous feeling curls through my body.
She’s too smooth against my jagged edges. The way she’s looking at me… it’s like she wants me to break her.
Our pieces don’t align.
But they will.
