Chapter Three

Bethany

The Halloween party was in full swing by the time I arrived, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as I stepped through the ornate iron gates of the old Victorian mansion. The entire place was draped in fog, the dim glow of jack-o'-lanterns flickering eerily along the winding pathway leading to the front door. I was already feeling alive—well, maybe too alive, considering I was dressed as an angel. I had the wings, even if they were fake for the time being at least, and the halo, even if it was slightly crooked. What could I say? Perfection continued to evade me.

I adjusted the feathered wings on my back, which were a little too big for me and kept brushing up against people as I walked. But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, I was part of something larger, something festive, something spooky and magical. The excitement in the air was contagious, and the partygoers were all dressed to the nines in their costumes.

It was like stepping into another world. Fake torches lined the walls, casting flickering shadows that made the whole place look like a haunted castle. Skeletons leered from the corners, spiders hung from cobwebs that were so well-placed it made me wonder if they were fake at all, and eerie portraits seemed to follow me with their eyes as I moved. Whoever had decorated this place had gone all out, and the effect was breathtaking. Almost...too real.

"Bethany!" Noah's voice cut through the foggy air, and I spotted him standing by the candy table, waving me over with one of his glittering, fake-nailed hands.

I couldn't help but grin when I saw him. Noah had really outdone himself tonight. He was in full drag, his alter ego, Miss Scrumptious, making a grand appearance in a hot pink sequin-covered gown that sparkled under the dim lights. His makeup was flawless, his wig styled to perfection, and his presence commanded attention as he twirled for the guests. The best part was the energy he exuded—like he was born for this kind of party.

I hurried over to join him at the candy display, which I had helped design with his and Alice's encouragement. I beamed with pride as I looked at our handiwork. The table was a dazzling spectacle, filled with every kind of sweet imaginable. We had towering jars of candy corn, caramel-dipped apples with chocolate drizzle, and perfectly frosted cookies shaped like ghosts and witches. But the pièce de résistance was Noah's secret addition—his own handcrafted chocolates and sugar sculptures, hidden among the corporate-approved sweets. Each one was a miniature masterpiece, glistening under the party lights, and I couldn't believe how lucky we were to have him.

"I see you've smuggled in your creations," I teased, nudging him lightly.

Noah winked. "You know me. I couldn't resist showing off a little. Corporate recipes be damned."

He tossed his head back, letting out a theatrical laugh as his partner, Gary, arrived at the table, dressed as Sherlock Holmes. Gary was a small, bald man, but his energy was boundless. He sidled up to Noah, wrapping an arm around him, and together, they made quite the pair.

Gary gave me a playful grin. "You look amazing, Bethany! If I didn't know better, I'd say you really were an angel."

I laughed, giving a twirl so my wings flared out behind me. "Thanks! I feel pretty angelic tonight, except for this thing." I tugged at the crooked halo on my head, trying to straighten it to no avail. "It's got a mind of its own."

Noah shook his head, smiling fondly at me. "Leave it. It adds character. Besides, no one's looking at your halo—they're too busy admiring your candy table, girl."

I glanced down, unsure whether he meant the actual candy table or my very prominent cleavage—a little too prominent for my liking as I discovered only after I'd donned the costume an hour before the party was scheduled to start. However, it had been too late to exchange it for a different size so instead I threw on a pearl choker, hoping it would draw people's gazes upward, and prayed that my girls would stay put.

"I'm just glad it turned out so well," I said, stepping back to admire the display one more time. "But Alice should get the credit, too. She worked so hard on the setup."

"She's the unsung hero of the shop," Noah agreed. "Too bad she couldn't make it tonight. But mom duty calls, and those kids of hers need her more than we do. Maybe you could help me convince her though to let me give her a makeover. Can't you just see her as a strawberry blonde?"

"Well," I said, grabbing one of the candy apples, "here's to, wherever she is."

Noah raised his bubbling drink in salute, and I clinked my apple against his glass before taking a big, satisfying bite. The combination of caramel and chocolate melted in my mouth, and I nearly swooned.

"Bethany," Gary said, pulling me from my candy-induced bliss. "You should go mingle. We can man the table. It's not every day we get a party like this. Maybe you'll meet someone special."

I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll just eat all the snacks and enjoy the decorations."

Gary chuckled and gave Noah a playful nudge. "She's playing it cool, but I have a feeling something exciting is going to happen tonight. Mark my words."

With that, Noah and Gary turned to pass out more treats, leaving me to wander the party on my own. I drifted through the crowd, feeling lighter than I had in months. The music was infectious, a mix of eerie, haunting melodies and upbeat tunes that made my feet itch to move. I danced for a while, twirling under the dim lights, my wings brushing against other dancers, but I didn't care. I felt...free.

The mansion was huge, and the further I wandered, the more elaborate the decorations became. The severed hand on the dining table caught my eye—until it twitched, crawling a few inches before settling back into place. I blinked, shaking my head. "Just a really good prop," I whispered to myself.

The portraits on the walls seemed to follow me with their eyes, which was definitely unnerving, but the atmosphere was so perfect that I couldn't help but appreciate the effort. Whoever had designed this haunted house knew what they were doing. As I passed a statue of a ghoul holding a bloody knife, I shivered. It almost seemed to breathe.

Get a grip, Bethany, I told myself, wiping my slightly damp palms on my dress. This place was just playing tricks on me, that was all. I kept telling myself that as I grabbed another drink from the bar, this one swirling with smoke and glowing an unnatural shade of green.

As I sipped, I wandered back to the candy table to see how Noah and Gary were doing, only to find Noah had brought out the pièce de résistance—chocolate brownies. He winked at me as I approached, cutting me a generous slice.

"You deserve this," he said with a grin. "For all your hard work."

"Don't mind if I do," I said, taking the brownie and savoring the first bite. Rich, decadent, and oh so satisfying.

With the taste of chocolate still lingering on my tongue, I spun back out onto the dance floor, joining the crowd. For a moment, everything felt perfect—like I was floating on a cloud. The combination of music, dancing, and just enough alcohol had me buzzing with energy. I felt...alive…Happy.

That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find a man in a mask standing behind me, his eyes shadowed beneath a sleek black disguise. He didn't say a word, just smiled and pulled me into the rhythm of the dance.

I wasn't sure why, but something about the way he moved felt...off. The music thumped in the background, but his grip on me tightened as we danced, his movements too insistent, too sharp. Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my arm and yanked me toward a dark hallway at the edge of the room.

"Hey!" I protested, trying to pull away. My heart raced, and for the first time that night, the playful spookiness of the party felt dangerous. "Let go!"

But he didn't. He dragged me further into the shadows, his grip like iron. Panic welled up inside me as I realized how far we'd moved from the crowd. The hallway was empty, the walls lined with flickering torches that cast eerie shadows. I was cornered.

"Let me go!" I shouted, struggling harder, but his hold only tightened.

Just as fear threatened to overwhelm me, a shadow emerged from the darkness.

"Is there a problem here?" a deep, smooth voice cut through the tension like a knife.

The man holding me froze, and I turned to see a figure stepping out of the shadows. He was tall, lean, and dressed in a black cape with a high collar, his dark eyes glittering. He looked every bit the part of Count Dracula, and something about his presence sent a shiver down my spine—not of fear, but of something else. Something I couldn't quite name.

The man holding me let go instantly, backing away without a word, and before I knew it, he had vanished into the shadows. I stood there, my heart still pounding, as the dark-haired stranger in the cape stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with something dangerous.

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. "Yeah. Thanks to you."

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile that made my pulse quicken for reasons I couldn't explain. "He won't bother you again."

I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly aware of how close he was standing. "I, uh, didn't catch your name."

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Drake."

"Bethany," I replied, my voice coming out a little softer than I intended. There was something about him that made me feel...off-balance, like he was both familiar and completely foreign at the same time.

We stood there in silence for a moment, the sound of the party distant behind us, the air between us charged with something electric. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. I didn't know if it was the costume, his penetrating gaze, or the way he had appeared out of nowhere, but there was something about him that drew me in.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, offering his arm and breaking the silence.

I laughed, the sound a little shaky, but I slipped my arm through his and allowed him to lead me back toward the dance floor. The music seemed to shift around us, slower, more intimate, as we moved together in perfect rhythm. His hand on my waist was steady, guiding me effortlessly, and for a moment, I forgot everything else—the creepy hallway, the man who had grabbed me, the fact that I was at a party full of strangers. All I could focus on was the way he moved, the way his presence seemed to wrap around me like a shadow.

As we danced, I glanced up at him, trying to figure out what it was about him that made me feel so...alive. "You're not from around here, are you?"

He smirked, his dark eyes glinting. "Is it that obvious?"

"More than a little," I said with a grin. "You've got that big-city vibe. So, what brings you to Sweetberry Hollow?"

His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Business."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of business?"

Before he could answer, the music faded, replaced by the sounds of laughter and chatter as the party continued. The air between us felt suddenly too warm, too close, and I found myself pulling away slightly, needing a moment to catch my breath.

"How about some fresh air?" he suggested, his voice low.

I nodded, grateful for the excuse to step outside. The mansion's grand patio was just as elaborately decorated as the inside, with twinkling lights and fog rolling across the ground. The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome relief from the heat of the party.

We stood in silence for a moment, the tension between us still palpable. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, though I wasn't sure if it was from the adrenaline of earlier or something else entirely.

"This might sound weird," I said, finally breaking the silence, "but I feel like I've known you before. Have we met?"

Drake chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No. Trust me, you'd remember."

There was something in his tone that made me shiver, but not in a bad way. I wasn't sure if it was the night, the drinks, or the fact that I was standing outside with a mysterious stranger who had just saved me from a very creepy situation, but there was a pull between us that I couldn't ignore.

I knew, somewhere deep down, that this was probably a bad idea. But I'd never been great at listening to that voice of reason, especially when the night felt this magical.

"Do you want to come back to my place?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Drake raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Nope," I said with a tremulous laugh. "But I'm inviting you anyway."

He smiled again, that slow, almost dangerous smile, and nodded. "Lead the way."

The walk back to my place was a blur—half giggles, half flirtation—our steps quick as if we were both being pulled toward the same inevitable conclusion. Every glance, every touch, felt charged with electricity, and by the time we stumbled through the door, I had forgotten every reason why this was a bad idea.

I barely had time to close the door before Drake's lips were on mine, his kiss hungry and urgent, the warmth of his body pressing against mine. My back hit the wall, and I gasped, the sound muffled as his mouth claimed mine again. His hands roamed, tracing over my curves, pulling me closer. The world around us disappeared. There was only him—his touch, his heat, and the way my body responded to him as though we were two magnets drawn together by some invisible force.

I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. I didn't want it to stop. All I wanted was more.

We stumbled into the kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest as we crashed into the counter, his lips trailing down my neck, igniting fire everywhere he touched. My skin was alive with sensation, every nerve ending buzzing with the anticipation of what was to come. His fingers brushed the small of my back, sending shivers down my spine as he lifted me onto the counter.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he leaned into me, his lips never leaving mine. There was a sense of urgency between us, like neither of us could wait a second longer. I tangled my fingers in his hair, feeling the smooth strands between my fingers, and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

"Bethany," he murmured against my lips, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill down my spine.

I didn't respond with words. Instead, I let my actions speak, pulling him even closer, my hands roaming over his back as I drank him in. He tasted like danger, like temptation, like everything I knew I shouldn't want but couldn't resist.

Before I knew it, we were tangled up in the sheets of my bedroom, our clothing discarded on the floor. His touch was like fire, burning me up from the inside, and I couldn't get enough of him. When he entered me, I groaned with pleasure. There was something primal about the way we moved, something that felt so right and yet so dangerously out of control.

I could feel the intensity building between us, the tension rising with every breath, every kiss, every touch. His lips found my neck, teasing the sensitive skin there, sending sparks through me. My heart raced, my breath quickened, and I felt like I was on the edge of something far beyond what I'd ever experienced before.

And then, in the midst of it all, I felt the sharp sting.

His teeth grazed my neck, just as the intensity of the moment peaked, and for a split second, I felt a jolt of pain. But almost immediately, it morphed into something else—something intoxicating. The pain faded, replaced by a strange, overwhelming warmth that flooded through my body, making me feel light, weightless, like I was floating above the bed, wrapped in a cloud of pure ecstasy.

I gasped, my fingers tightening on the sheets as the sensation rolled over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I should have been afraid, should have pushed him away, but instead, I found myself leaning into him, my breath coming in shallow gasps as the warmth spread through me, making everything feel brighter, sharper, more vivid.

His lips pressed against the spot where his teeth had grazed, and a small shiver ran down my spine. I felt an odd sense of completion, like we had crossed some invisible line together, something I couldn't quite explain but felt deep within me.

I opened my eyes, my vision hazy, and saw him watching me, his eyes dark and filled with something intense, something that made my heart skip a beat.

But instead of fear, all I felt was peace, a deep, overwhelming sense of peace that settled over me like a warm blanket. My eyelids grew heavy, my body sinking deeper into the bed as the warmth wrapped around me, pulling me into a soft, dreamlike state.

I could still feel his presence beside me, could feel his lips brushing against my skin one last time before everything faded into darkness, the sensation of his bite lingering like a sweet, intoxicating memory.

When I woke up, everything felt...wrong. My head was pounding, my body heavy, and my mouth dry. I groaned as I rolled over, blinking blearily at the grey autumn light streaming through the curtains.

How much had I had to drink last night? I remembered the party, the dancing, the man in the mask...and then Drake. And the bedroom. But after that, everything was a blur.

I sat up slowly, wincing as my head protested. I hadn't had that much to drink, had I? This wasn't just a hangover—something was different. Off. I felt...strange. Like I was weighed down by something.

Frowning, I reached for my phone on the bedside table, blinking as the screen lit up.

And then my stomach dropped.

I had been asleep for over 24 hours. It was Monday morning, and I was seriously late for work.

"Crap!" I bolted out of bed, my heart racing as I scrambled to make sense of the time. I'd never overslept this badly in my life. What the hell had happened?

Just as I was about to call Alice to explain, a message popped up from her.

New boss is here. You missed the meeting.

I cursed under my breath, typing a quick apology and telling her I'd be there as fast as I could.

I jumped into the shower, trying to scrub the exhaustion from my skin. But as I stepped out and reached for the mirror to fix my hair, I froze.

I couldn't see my reflection.

Panic surged through me as I wiped frantically at the fog on the mirror, but no matter how hard I rubbed, I saw...nothing. My reflection simply wasn't there.

"What the hell?" I whispered, my heart pounding. I didn't have time to figure this out—not right now. I shoved the thought aside, throwing on some clothes and rushing to the kitchen for a quick bite before heading to work.

But as soon as I opened the fridge, my stomach churned. The bagel I had been planning to grab suddenly looked revolting, the mere thought of eating it making my insides twist.

Instead, there was an enticing smell coming from the bottom drawer. I opened it to find the steak I had planned to cook later in the week, and my mouth watered at the sight of it, raw and bloody.

I froze, my hand trembling as I reached for my neck, touching the spot where there should have been a little scab from my lover's bite—but there was nothing.

Vampires weren't real.

Right?

I gulped, slamming the fridge shut and rushing out the door. I didn't have time for this. I'd figure it out later. Right now, I had a job to get to, and a new boss to meet.

I arrived at Sugar Rush, my heart still racing as I hurried inside, hoping my hair wasn't some mess of a beehive since I had no idea what I looked like. Alice gave me a sympathetic look from behind the counter, but before I could say anything, I felt a presence behind me.

I turned slowly, and nearly fell over from shock when my eyes locked onto the man standing in the doorway.

It was Drake.

He was dressed in a sleek black suit, his dark eyes glinting with recognition, the same dangerous smile playing on his lips.

And in that moment, I knew two things for sure:

One, I had just slept with my new boss.

And two, my life was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.