Masquerade (Heven and Hell #1)(43)
Author: Cambria Hebert

Then his soul will be mine.

The Hope

But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn,
which shines brighter and brighter until full day.
The way of the wicked is like deep darkness;
they do not know over what they stumble.

—Proverbs 4:18-19

Chapter Thirteen

Heven

A masquerade ball – the perfect disguise. My stomach fluttered and anticipation curled around me. I almost forgot what this feeling was like. This feeling of excitement. When was the last time I was excited about anything? (Besides Sam, of course!) I couldn’t remember. I do know that it had been Before. Tonight was different, though. Tonight things felt almost normal.

I turned up the volume on my stereo, not caring a bit if Mom thought it was too loud. Tonight was my night. I was going to enjoy it, because come midnight, I turned back into a pumpkin. Pushing that bit of depression back into the corner of my mind, I stepped in front of my mirror, not an ounce of trepidation in the act. I knew what I was going to see and what I wasn’t.

I smiled, my glossy pink lips glistening. I looked hot. Just like Before. I giggled a little, almost giddy. I took a moment to really look at myself because I hadn’t in so very long. My long blond hair was parted down the center, with two loose French braids woven with peacock blue satin sweeping the hair away from my face and stopping just behind my ears. The rest of my hair was left loose to trail down my back, and its softness brushed against my bare shoulders. My dress was strapless, a deep, vibrant shade of blue, fitted at the top to lightly flare out just beneath my bust and float to the floor. At my knees the color of the fabric began to fade, and where it skimmed the floor, it turned silver. Around my neck hung a silver teardrop pendant, and on my feet were strappy silver flats. No heels for me. Secretly, I liked being short. Especially when I stood next to Sam. He towered over me, always, unknowingly, making me feel protected. My stomach did a little flip at the thought. I could almost die waiting to see what he would say when he saw me tonight.

Tonight things would change for us.

I was ready.

Ready to say the words he wanted to hear.

The doorbell rang, and my heart fell to my belly. He was here! I took a calming breath, not that it helped, and looked back in the mirror once more. I did my makeup tonight, lining my eyes in charcoal, giving them a smoky look, and adding a silvery shadow to my lids. The rest of my face was more natural, but it needed to be because of the mask. At first I was thrilled to wear a mask because it was a chance to cover up my scars, to be like everyone else for a night. It definitely hid my scars, but it also looked dramatic, stylish and a little bit mysterious.

“Heven, you’re date is here,” Mom called up the stairs.

“Coming!” I called, checking the mask one last time.

It was the same color blue as my dress. It molded perfectly around the side of my face with soft feathers tipped in silver, curling around my cheek and eye. It managed to cover every inch of my ugliness and highlighted the blue of my eyes and the creaminess of my skin.

Like I said, I was hot.

With a spin I grabbed my bracelet off my dresser and left my room, practically running down the stairs.

Sam was waiting.

When I descended the stairs a hush fell over the room. I realize that there was only mom and Sam, but I swear it felt like every single noise, every single movement stopped for a few precious seconds. How could I have ever doubted my beauty, my confidence…my self-worth?

“Heven, honey, you look beautiful.” My mother gasped in a hushed tone. “You’re just stunning.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, but I didn’t look her way. I was too busy looking at Sam.

His whiskey colored eyes widened at the sight of me and I saw him draw a breath that he never let out. The hand to his side flexed, almost as if he ached to touch me. I liked to imagine that he did.

The silk of my dress brushed against my ankles as I stepped down off the last step and Sam closed the distance between us in two great strides. But then he stopped, not touching me the way I imagined. Instead he stared, those honey gold eyes never leaving me.

“You two are just gorgeous together. Let me get a photo.” Mom ran from the room to get a camera, but I barely noticed.

“Hi,” I murmured.

“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat. “You look…” his words fell away and I saw his Adam’s apple bob against the collar of his shirt. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

“You clean up good yourself.” I blushed. “Is that for me?” I asked, looking down at the clear box that held a flower.

“Yes.” He fumbled with the lid, having to try twice to get it open. I smiled. It was the first time I had ever seen him fumble at anything. Usually he was so sure of himself. Finally he lifted out a delicate flower. It was a white lily with blue and silver ribbons. I held out my arm and he slid it over my wrist. It was perfect.

Mom rushed back in the room with a camera and another clear box. “Oh! I forgot,” I said, rushing over to take the box. “Thanks, Mom.”

Mom snapped pictures as I leaned in close to pin the boutonniere on the jacket of his tux. It was also a white Lily with blue and silver ribbon. I couldn’t help but breathe deeply of his deep, natural scent. I was so proud to call him mine.

We posed for several pictures and for once, I didn’t mind being in front of the camera. With my head held high I smiled while Sam placed his arm around my waist. When we were finished, Mom reminded me of my curfew, and then Sam whisked me out the door.

It was the start of what I hoped would be a very memorable evening.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off me. Or his hands. It was amazing the number of ways he could find to touch me in some small way: his palm at the small of my back, knuckles across my cheek, and his fingers playing with the ends of my hair. If this night was a dream, I prayed I’d never wake up. He pulled the truck into one of the last parking spaces and shut off the engine. His eyes were unreadable and delicious as he leaned toward me, brushing his arm across my lap to open my door.

“Stay put,” he whispered, withdrawing his arm. “I’ll be right there to help you.”

And he was, placing his hands at my waist and lifting me from the truck’s cab. “You’re so beautiful I can barely breathe tonight.”

I didn’t respond because I couldn’t breathe either. These last few weeks had been like a fairytale.

He stood me on my feet and leaned in close. “Your heart is racing.”