The Masquerade (26 page)

I worked up the courage to lift my eyes to his. He wasn't upset despite my expectations. His eyes were open and understanding. He pressed his lips to my forehead.

"I heard what Ava said outside. I realized then it wasn't what I was that scared you. It was your own battle you were fighting." His hand brushed along the side of my face, lingering there as he stared into my eyes sinking past the depths of the torment and the issues,
and finding their way into my soul.

"I'm not perfect, Ella. I'm far from what you deserve and I'm not promising you things wont be broken. I'll fuck up, you'll cry, and I'll end up breaking something, but I swear to you Ella," he leaned his
forehead against mine, our eyes still connected. "I swear I'll never leave."

With those words, the wax was poured and the seal pressed. I belonged to him and only him. I pulled his face down to mine. I tried to convey
everything I felt for him through the kiss because I knew I wouldn't have the courage to say it out loud. I love him. I love him so much it hurts. The way he kissed me back, the way his lips hungrily devoured mine told me he understood.
I didn't have to say anything. He knew. It didn't matter if he didn't feel that way about me because I was feeling again and it was beautiful.

The incessant blare of a car alarm in the distance jolted me
from my sleep. Bright light shone through my bedroom windows. I winced, hating myself for forgetting to close the blinds before I went to bed. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling until the moments of the previous day slid back into my memory. Ben stayed the night. I flipped over. The crinkled spot next to mine
was vacant. I frowned and shot up quickly, my eyes moving around my room, searching.

At least I thought he had stayed the night. I started to question the state of my sanity until I heard my bathroom door open. I turned
to see Ben standing in the doorway, shirtless, and his dark jeans resting dangerously low on his waist. I swallowed and attempted to stare at him without groveling. His black hair was damp and disheveled and hanging in front of his
steel blue eyes. The sun shone through the window, highlighting his figure in a new light that I had yet to experience. We'd only met during the evening. In the light he appeared even more godlike than I realized.

He smirked. "See anything you like?"

"Gross, no," I pretended to gag. "Put a shirt on. I think I just threw up in my mouth."

He walked over to me, both of his hands resting on either
side of my lap. He leaned forward, his lips just inches from mine. He cocked an eyebrow. "I shouldn't kiss you then."

I opened my mouth to protest, but I could taste the rank odor in my mouth and my eyes immediately widened. My hand shot to my mouth to
cover it. My cheeks grew warm and I practically shoved him to the side.

"My breath," I mumbled through my hand when I darted into the bathroom. I could hear him laughing behind me. I quickly
brushed my teeth and rinsed with mouthwash, silently praying he didn't smell anything. I ran a brush through my hair to eliminate the unattractive knots and kinks.

When I walked out of the bathroom I caught Ben just as he
slipped his t-shirt back over his head.

I froze, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He turned to me with a bemused grin that was rare to his serious expression. "If you want to see me naked you know the words,
baby."

"I feel like I've got the power," I laughed. I walked over to him and his arms immediately formed around my waist. He pecked my lips just when my stomach attempted to eat itself.

"You hungry?" He laughed. "I can make some pretty sick cereal."

I took his hand and pulled him towards my door. "I'd rather show you that my mom's famous cooking skills were generously passed down
to me." I paused in the hallway and looked over my shoulder. "Do you eat? I mean," I trailed off thinking about the ice cream I watched him eat in the square the night we officially met. Stupid question.

"It helps control the urges. We eat nonstop. Our
manager does more grocery shopping for us than his actual job." He smirked as I imagined he was recalling a memory that he failed to share.

"Does your manager know?"

"Allan is fully aware of what we are and chooses to look the other way," he said behind me as we walked down the stairs.

"So he isn't okay with it?" I asked when we walked into the kitchen.

Ben shrugged and shoved his hands inside the front pockets of his jeans. "He's trying to accept it. There's a good chance he'll be one of us someday so touring around with us is a good idea for him."

My hand paused when I reached out to open one of the kitchen
cabinets. I turned slowly to face Ben. He slid into one of the bar stools at the end of the counter. His eyes rested on my face with dark intensity.

"What do you mean?"

"His brother is a zombie so he carries the gene." I stared at him blankly, waiting for an explanation. "We're not what the movies make us out to be. A bite doesn't turn a human into a zombie. If anything it makes you sick or sluggish, but you won't die much less become one
of us."

My eyes widened. I threw my hand up in the air. "That's why I've been sleeping so much. I thought I was PMSing or something." My mouth fell shut and I gave a small sheepish smile. Ben blinked once before he
burst into laughter. My cheeks warmed as I watched him, thankful he wasn't one of those guys that cringed when someone mentioned the monthly horror house in a female's uterus.

He smiled. "No, it's the bite. I wish I could give you
an explanation for the side effects, but we don't really know. Our kind isn't exactly undergoing scientific research."

"So, how does one become like you?"

His wary eyes met mine. "You don't. It has to run in your family." After catching my quizzical stare he continued. "It's a disease. It runs through your blood as a human, infecting every organ in your body, and when you die the climax of the disease occurs and it brings you back.
It takes a while for the body to undergo the transformation. Some undead come back within two weeks, but it doesn't take longer than a year after your death." He cleared his throat and looked away. "It's strange. When
you come back it's like waking up from a nap. You remember every detail of your death, but it feels like a dream. You don't even realize your dead at first."

"How do you know you're dead then?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Waking up in a coffin usually gives it away."

"Oh," I said simply. I stared at him waiting for him to explain further, but when he wouldn't I pressed. "What happened to
you?" His eyes snapped to mine. "I mean, how did you,"

"Die?"

I nodded.

"My sister, Rebecca, and I were walking home late. She
just got engaged so I took her out to celebrate. On our way home four men jumped us. They dragged her into an alley and," he stopped and exhaled sharply. He couldn't say it. His eyes searched mine for help. I nodded in understanding. "I tried to fight them off and help her but one of them
pulled a knife on me." He frowned. "That's all I remember. He stabbed me right then and there. He took my life without hesitation. I couldn't save Rebecca. They killed her too."

My expression fell, my heart lurched for him, but I couldn't
say anything that would make it better. Sensing my distress, he stepped off the bar stool and walked around the counter to face me. His hands clasped the sides of my face. "You don't have to say anything. I would be like this one way
or another. I just had my fate handed to me sooner than expected."

"What about Rebecca?"

He smiled. "She's at rest."

I frowned, "But if you had the gene then she should
have come back too."

He shook his head. "The whole thing is a gamble. If the gene runs in your family, you most likely know about it. The disease came from
my father's side. He knew about it, but to most humans it's an urban legend. No one believes it, yet they all request for a burial rather than cremation. You don't find out if you have it until you die. Rebecca carried the gene, but it didn't infect her. I wasn't so lucky."

"Why wouldn't they cremate themselves? I mean, wouldn't they try to avoid becoming a zombie?"

Ben shook his head. "It's a legend. What some families know differ from others, but they all seem to understand that the disease will
bring you back from the dead. To them it sounds more like a second chance at life, a gift, and not a curse."

I nodded, "I guess I wouldn't blame them."

"Imagine our surprise when we come back as choleric monsters with an unfathomable craving for human flesh, rather than climbing out of our graves as immortal gods or something." He smirked. "The only cool thing is our heightened sensibility. We can hear from miles away, run
faster than the human eye can catch, and our strength is magnified."

I was still stuck on one word, "
Immortal gods?
"

He rolled his eyes. "I became a rock star so that's
pretty fucking close."

"Yeah, I can't argue that one." I laughed. I remembered what he said before, about how his death was long ago. I realized I had never given much thought to his age. He told me he was twenty-one, but how
old was that truly to him. "How long ago?"

"What?"

I cleared my throat. "How old are you, Ben?"

This time he hesitated. It took him a moment to answer.
"I died in 1952," he said slowly, examining my response.

My eyes were wide, "Oh."

"Is that weird?"

"Yes, but I've heard stranger."

He smiled, "Like Fall Out Boy and their new album."

I nodded and rolled my eyes in exaggeration. "Tell me about it!"

We laughed together. His hands ran down the sides of my arms.
He gazed down to me with a new look of adoration, which I enjoyed being the source of. I pushed myself up on my toes so my lips could reach his. He met them easily, but his kiss was slower than what I'd experienced the night
before. I liked slow and the way he seemed to cherish every touch and taste of my mouth, but I wanted more. I sucked his lip ring into my mouth and our kiss escalated quickly.

Ben's hands left my face and grasped my hips, lifting me
onto the counter, adjusting our positions so that I towered over him. I tightened my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. That familiar pull of desire washed over me, pulsating throughout my body, awakening every inch, and lighting it on fire. I needed all of him and I know he felt the same because
I could feel it between my legs.

He grunted when he pulled away reluctantly. "If we don't stop now, we're going all the way."

"Sorry," I mumbled breathlessly.

He laughed, "Whenever you're ready."

"We will have this conversation," I agreed.

"No, we will be busy with other tasks requiring our
mouths."

I smacked his chest lightly. "You're kind of a dick."

"I'm a guy."

Unashamed, he leaned down to peck my lips, but his they lingered on mine and I expected him to take it further until he abruptly pulled
away. I frowned for a moment, but then I realized why after hearing footsteps moving into the kitchen. My head snapped up.

"Ella, I stopped by Uncle Steven's restaurant and
picked up some brunch for us," My mom said, fumbling with the large brown bag in her hands. Her voice carried off when she sensed the other presence in the room. Her eyes trailed up and widened when they found the two of us.

"Mom," I said, my voice uneasy. I realized Ben was still between my legs and I practically kicked him away with my foot. He shot me a smirk that she didn't catch before he turned his attention to my flabbergasted mother, standing motionless with her mouth practically touching
the floor. "Mom, this uh, is my friend Ben."

"
Friend
," she repeated with one eyebrow raised, watching him carefully.

He laughed lightly. "It's nice to meet you Ms.
Moore."

"Marilyn," she corrected and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She shook the hand he held out for her. "Friend?" She repeated, this time there was a sense of humor in her voice as she eyed the two
of us.

"I prefer the term boyfriend, but we haven't really established that yet."

I could feel my heart swell in my throat. I bit down hard on my cheeks to hide the smile that was threatening to surface. I wanted to be
cool about it, but the thought made me want to squeal.
I was his girlfriend
.

I casually slid off the counter, but when my feet hit the ground my balance wavered and I stepped forward too suddenly. Ben caught me
with his hands, holding my arms gently as he steadied me. His eyes met mine for the briefest moment, before I turned to my mom.

"How long have I been in the dark?" She asked with
a frown. "What happened to Sloane or did I just imagine that?"

I'd almost forgotten the name I was going with. Ben stared at me a smirk toying with his lips while he waited for me to explain. "Oh, um technically this is Sloane. Ben Sloane."

Ben looked at my mom, leaning casually against the countertop. "I'm a spy."

My mom frowned while I tried to quickly reassure her doubts that I was holding back from her, "This just happened."

"Uh huh," she shot me pointed look that told me she wasn't going to forget the image of what she walked in on. I blushed and tilted my head forward, allowing my hair to fall into my face like curtain. She
stared at Ben. "Why do you look so familiar?"

I started gnawing on my bottom lip. "The poster upstairs in my room, Mom." I told her, "
The Masquerade
."

She continued to stare at Ben. I could see the puzzle pieces
coming together behind her eyes, until they practically lit with recognition. "Oh!" Her expression upped to a mixture of shock and confusion. "You're
the
Ben Sloane."

Ben smiled. "I'm one of them."

My mom turned to me, her mouth hanging open. "How," she shook her head. "I mean," she was stumped. "How the hell did you manage to snag a rock star for a boyfriend."

"Mom!" I shouted and followed it up with a groan.

Ben was laughing now. "At one of my concerts in Atlanta last year, I briefly met Ella for a meet and greet after the concert," his
eyes met mine, "but once I saw you I couldn't forget you."

I nodded and decided to carry the story. "They played in the square last week and we sort of just ran into each other."

"I decided I wasn't going to let her go this
time," Ben finished, his voice sincere.

My mom's mouth was still open. Her eyes flickered between the two of us. I wasn't sure about what she was more shocked by. The fact that
I was finally in another relationship or that it happened to be with a famous musician. Both were equally surprising.

She finally blinked and snapped out of it. "Okay then," she turned to Ben. "Would you like something to eat?"

He shook his head. "I've actually got to get going, but thank you."

I frowned. Ben turned, our eyes met for a second before he leaned down and kissed my cheek softly. "I'll see you later, Ella."
He straightened and looked at my mom. "It was nice to meet you, Marilyn."