Work Text:
Ok, look.
Kate likes kids as much as the next person. Really, she does. The almost ten year age gap between her and Edwina ensured that Kate had spent plenty of time surrounded by kids, sitting through pretend tea parties and spending hours doing face paint for Eddie’s friends. All things considered, Kate would consider herself pretty patient with kids.
But if one more snot-nosed five-year-old attempted to use the trailing sleeves of her costume as a tissue, she was going to scream.
Honestly, she blamed Edwina.
Between the elaborate costume, the ridiculous eye contacts, and the fangs (dear god, the fangs), Kate was more than ready for this night to be over, so that she could change back into her hoodie and jeans, go home, take a long shower, and wash off all traces of this damned haunted house.
Don’t get her wrong, initially when Edwina had dragged Kate along to the Mayfair House of Horrors, Kate had been secretly excited about the whole thing. There was a buzz around the place, as everyone got assigned their characters, fitted for costumes, and got to know the other people working in the same room as them. Kate had been cast as the leader of the vampire coven, and had to admit that her costume was amazing- a cross between Sarah Sanderson and Morticia Addams. With her scarlet lips and dramatic red contact lenses, combined with the trail of fake blood down her chin and neck, Kate had to admit she looked good.
So, yeah, Kate had been caught up in the whole thing. She was an artist at heart, and couldn’t ignore the attention to detail that had gone into every part of the house- the set, the story, the costumes, all far more intricate than was normally expected for a local haunted house.
Her interest in being involved had nothing to do with the pretty blonde whose name Kate had yet to learn, despite subtly (and maybe not so subtly) asking around.
It sounded cliché to say their eyes had locked from opposite sides of the room. This wasn’t a regency dance, this was a room of frenzied college students running from makeup trials to costume fittings, people learning their scripts as the set pieces for each room were built next to them. Kate wasn’t sure the blonde had even noticed her, there was so much going on around them. Her gaze had seemed to land on Kate, and stay on her for a few long moments, but maybe she’d been looking at the tall, dark-haired guy beside Kate, even the boisterous group of preteens cast as a hoard of goblins a few metres away.
So maybe, the blonde hadn’t noticed Kate, but Kate had certainly noticed her. It would be hard not to- from the moment Kate had walked into the room, her eyes had been drawn to the girl. There was some intangible light that seemed to emanate from her, her face lighting up as she laughed at something Genevieve had said, her movements so graceful as she moved around the room, it was almost as if she was dancing. Kate tried her best to keep from staring, but knew it was a lost cause; she was mesmerised by the girl.
Kate had been cautiously optimistic about the four weeks during those first few days, hopeful that she would be assigned to the same room as the blonde, and she might get a chance to ask for her name (and maybe, if Kate was feeling brave, for her number). But two weeks in, Kate’s optimism had died a slow, painful death. Despite keeping an eye out for the blonde (and trust her, Kate had been looking), she had yet to see the girl again. Maybe she had dropped out of the haunted house, but either way, Kate had yet to cross paths with her again.
“Hey Kate?”
Pushing away from the wall, Kate came back to her surroundings- the early evening rush of the aforementioned younger kids had ended (Kate hoped), and the later onslaught of groups of older kids and adults hadn’t started yet. There were six of them in this room- Kate and two other college students, a couple of kids a few years younger than Kate, and a 13-year-old boy who was, frankly, more terrifying than the rest of them put together. With his crimson red contact lenses, slicked back dark hair, pallid face, and fake blood dripping from his fangs, the kid seemed to revel in scaring both adults and kids out of their wits.
It was this kid, Gregory, who had pulled Kate out of her musings, his bright smile at complete odds with his ghastly appearance.
“Hey Greg, what’s up?”
“Ben just rang- my sister, Daphne, needs help redoing her makeup after there was an…” Gregory seemed to stifle a laugh at his next words, “…incident in the fairy-tale room, but they’re having a bit of a crisis down in the witches’ lair, and he was wondering would you be able to help with Daphne’s makeup?”
“Sure, no problem- where is she?"
Greg’s grin widened, replying, “She’s in the break room.”
Grabbing her bag- tucked away behind a Dracula-type coffin stacked against the wall, Kate made her way out of the vampire room, through the back halls, avoiding anywhere there might actually be patrons passing through the haunted house.
Reaching the break room, Kate pushed open the door, looking around and catching a glimpse of blonde hair…
Daphne was bored.
She’d been lying in this glass (i.e. perspex) coffin for an hour without any break, and about 15 minutes into her shift, she’d realised the prosthetic makeup all along the side of her face was somehow itchier than usual.
When Benedict had roped a bunch of his siblings into working the haunted house he ran with Genevieve Delacroix and Henry Granville every year, Daphne had hoped she’d be front-of-house, collecting money, or, at most, directing groups through the how while dressed as some minor demon.
But no. For some reason, she got cast in the fairy-tale section, Benedict neglecting to mention he had volunteered her for the role of Zombie Snow White until after she’d agreed to work there for the month.
It could be worst, she supposed- Simon had nearly bust a rib laughing at Anthony and Colin’s faces when he heard they were playing a couple of trolls guarding the bridge to the outdoor section of the mansion. Anthony, already furious with Benedict, had added his boyfriend to his list of people who were getting the silent treatment, not that Simon minded; he spent the rest of the evening looking up the different types of trolls, delighting in reading out the less than complimentary descriptions, especially those that mentioned the troll’s “limited intellect.” Anthony’s spirits had been raised, however, once Simon had been coerced (some might say bullied) into taking part in the haunted house as well. The eldest Bridgerton had cried with laughter at his boyfriend’s horror at the thought of dressing up, despite never giving into Anthony’s demands to wear couple’s costumes each year.
All that to say that, even though Daphne had gotten away relatively lightly on the character front, she hadn’t expected to spend her day lying in a room, trying her best not to shiver in her thin dress, bored out of her mind.
And yes, there were some perks to working the House of Horrors. Benedict, along with Gen and Henry, had taken everything they’d learnt during their three years of being involved in every musical theatre production their university had put on and had put it into the House of Horrors, resulting in some of the most stunning sets, costumes, hair, and makeup that Daphne had ever seen in a haunted house.
Daphne had been lost for words when Henry had put the finishing touches to her makeup and had shown her the final look; one side of her face was exactly as you’d expect, the typical Snow White attributes out in full force; her face pale, almost ghostly, her lips a deep red colour, rosy cheeks and a sleek black wig finishing the look. However, the other side of her face, the side currently turned away from the door, was covered in prosthetics and stage makeup, making it appear as if the ‘poisoned apple’ she held in her hand had melted her face away, leaving a bloody, gruesome skeleton in its wake. The costume Genevieve had designed for Daphne only enhanced the look; the classic blue corset and full yellow skirt tattered and dishevelled, the gold heels broken, the bow of one torn away completely.
Daphne would never admit it to Benedict’s friend (girlfriend? She has no idea what’s going on with Gen, Henry, and her brother), but she hadn’t paid any attention to the costume at the fitting. Oh, she knew it was incredibly well made, and fit her like a dream, but any other particulars of the dress had fully escaped her notice. Normally, Daphne took pride in being an observant person, but her whole focus had been elsewhere- specifically, on the tall, elegant, if slightly intimidating, vampire on the opposite side of the room.
Benedict’s ever-present lobsided grin had grown into a full-on smirk when Daphne had pulled him aside to ask him, under the guise of setting up a group chat, the name of the brunette vampire.
“Daphne, we already have a group chat- you’re part of it.”
“Oh, right. I just- I thought I’d make one for some of the over-eighteens, maybe set up a night out at some stage.”
“And you specifically need the name of one vampire in particular?”
Daphne levelled her brother with a look, realising Benedict had seen right through her, admittedly flimsy, excuse, and deciding to drop the act.
“Just- I just want to know her name.”
“You could always ask her.”
Laughing at Daphne’s horrified face at the thought of finding the nerve to actually speak to the stunning brunette, Benedict relented.
“It’s Kate.”
Beaming at her brother, Daphne squeezed his arm, debating whether to hug him in thanks. Her decision was made quickly, as Benedict, with over two decades of experience in aggravating his siblings, continued, “So, now that you know her name, are you actually going to talk to Kate?”
Daphne’s grin became a glower at Benedict’s teasing tone.
“Ok, we’re done with this conversation, and we’re never discussing it again.”
Daphne didn’t quite run away from her brother, but it was a close thing, Benedict’s laughter following after her retreating figure.
Since then, Daphne hadn’t seen much of Kate, as they were in different sections of the house. A couple of times, Daphne had considered asking to be moved to the same room as her, but had held back; hesitant to draw Gen’s ire by asking her to make yet another costume, and loath to give Ben any more opportunities to tease her.
A voice from outside the room shook Daphne out of her musings, as Michael, one of the guides, spoke to whatever group he had with him, his introduction to the room serving to announce the approaching group for the actors as much as building the suspense for the group.
Daphne, settling into position, moved her hand from behind her head to rest on her at her side, doing her best to look serene, even as she opened her eyes just enough to see when most of the group had entered. Still keeping her eyelids cracked slightly, she watched as the group moved around her, positioned as she was in the centre of the room. Bracing herself, Daphne drew in a breath before springing up out of the coffin, reaching for the members of the group closest to her, doing her best to keep her face emotionless, even as she wanted to giggle at the looks of horror on the group’s faces.
Almost immediately, Daphne’s poker face was tested in a completely different way. One of the kids in the group, clearly terrified by Daphne’s sudden movement, had been faced with the age-old choice of fight or flight. Unfortunately for Daphne, he had chosen fight, and had thrown his cold drink in her face.
The screams of the group faded as they realised what the boy had done, all unsure how to react.
Daphne, meanwhile, was fighting to keep all her emotions off her face. One hand clenched behind her back, Daphne dug her names into her palm to keep from shrieking at the freezing cold drink dripping off her face. Forcing herself to stay in character, she grinned menacingly at the kid who had thrown the drink at her, letting all her fury seep into her voice, her next words dripping with venom.
“You fool! I’ve survived huntsmen and evil queens; you think mere water will melt me?”
Making as if to pull herself out of the coffin, Daphne was gratified to see the group reel back in fear, all but running from the room, the last few stragglers having to deal with the other fairy-tale princesses.
Once the group were finally, finally gone, Daphne jumped out of the coffin, unable to hold back the frustration she felt.
“For fuck’s sake!”
Sophie turned away from the exit, having seen off the group gleefully, the glass slipper that was jammed into her throat (some of Ben’s best prosthetic work, really) gleaming under the lights.
“Shit Daph, I don’t know how you didn’t break then- I’d have lost the plot if one of these little gremlins did that to me.”
Sighing, Daphne wiped some of the water off her face, looking down to see her hand strewn with red and black streaks of makeup, knowing her face must be a mess.
“It’s fine, it’ll dry out.”
Sophie snorted. “Daph, we’ll be fine without you for a while- it’s so quiet tonight anyway. Go on your break, and you’ll be able to redo your makeup.”
“How bad is it?” Daphne asked, already knowing the answer.
Sophie hesitated before replying. “The prosthetics are fine.”
“And the rest of it?”
Relenting, Sophie admitted, “One half of your face does resemble a panda.”
Daphne groaned. Even though she’d known she probably looked a state, it wasn’t fun to hear it.
“Shit, alright. Thanks Soph, I’ll be back in like twenty minutes.”
Daphne headed out of the fairy-tale room, grabbing her bag as she went, making her way to the staff room. Whipping out her phone, she pulled up Benedict’s number, deciding to ring him instead of texting, knowing he probably wouldn’t see the text for hours.
When Ben answered, Daphne was surprised to hear the stress in his normally relaxed voice.
“Daph, hey, I can’t really talk right-
Daphne cut her brother off, asking, “Ben, can you or Henry come fix my makeup? Some kid threw-”
“Daph, seriously, I can’t talk right now, the set in the witches’ lair is in real danger of falling, so it’s all hands on deck over here to get it fixed before any more groups come through.”
“But Ben, my makeup is ruined, I can’t go back in til it’s fixed, and I’ve no makeup with me!”
Benedict swore on the other end of the phone, then answered, “OK, I’ll get it sorted, where are you?”
“I’m just at the staff room,” Daphne replied, pushing open the door with her shoulder, searching through her bag at the same time, hoping she’d have some makeup wipes, or something to take off the worst of the makeup.
“OK, I’ll send someone to fix your makeup, give me a few minutes.”
Daphne sighed in relief, murmuring, “Thanks Ben.”
Hanging up the call, Daphne threw herself into one of the chairs in the small kitchen area, giving up on finding the makeup wipes. Pulling on a cardigan, she used the sleeve to scrub at her face, scrolling through her phone as she waited for someone, anyone to show up to rescue the catastrophe that was her face.
“Daphne?”
Looking up, Daphne instantly wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Honestly, it would’ve been preferable than the reality of the situation, which was Kate- gorgeous, mysterious Kate who Daphne had yet to work up the courage to speak to- standing in the doorway, looking questioningly at Daphne.
Closing her eyes for a second, glad she hadn’t seen the state of her face in the mirror, so that she could pretend it wasn’t as bad as she knew it was, Daphne stood up and smiled at the taller girl.
“Hey, it’s Kate, right?”
Grinning, Kate moved further into the room, replying, “Yeah, that’s me. Your brother rang me, said you needed help with makeup?”
The next time Daphne saw Benedict, he had better hope there were witnesses present, as she was very tempted by the idea of fratricide in this moment. Why, why had Benedict thought it a good idea for Kate, of all people, to saw Daphne like this?
“Some kid got a little over-excited, and tried out the old “Wizard of Oz” solution on me,” Daphne explained ruefully, pointing at her face as Kate took a seat beside her, turning her chair to face Daphne head-on.
“The joys of haunted houses, am I right?” Daphne continued, grimacing as Kate’s eyes flitted over her face, taking in her smudged lipstick, streaky base, and eyeliner that was closer to that of a raccoon than a Disney princess.
Kate fished around in her makeup bag, blessedly pulling out a pack of makeup wipes and passing them to Daphne. “Couldn’t agree more- this is my first time being involved in one of these, and I already know it’s gonna be my last.”
Daphne snorted, instantly regretting the unladylike sound when the corner of Kate’s lips ticked up in response.
Doing her best to cover up her embarrassment, Daphne replied, “You say that now, but trust me, once you’ve done it once, my brother and his co-conspirators will never stop badgering you. I did this for the first time when I was 16, and since then, I’ve had to dress up as a different monster each year, as well as an elf every Christmas and, a couple of times, they’ve even dragged me into the ensemble of one of their plays.”
Feeling a bit better now that she had removed the last vestiges of makeup from her face- at least, the side not covered in prosthetics- Daphne turned to face Kate, sucking in a breath when she realised just how close the two of them were, her legs having to slot in between Kate’s to accommodate their close proximity.
“So you haven’t got the same interest in the theatrical as he has?” Kate asked, her eyes flicking down from Daphne’s for a second, before darting back up just as quickly, making Daphne wonder if she’d imagined it. Daphne, try as she might, couldn’t help her own gaze lowering to Kate’s lips, crimson red, a perfect match to the fake blood decorating her chin. Unbidden, Daphne’s eyes traced the line of red down Kate’s neck, down to where it reached her dress, cut low enough for Daphne to catch a glimpse of the upper parts of her breasts, rising and falling rhythmically. There was a rust-coloured stain in the fabric covering one breast, in the perfect spot to match up with the supposed blood trail.
A blush rose in Daphne’s cheeks as Kate shifted in her seat, realising suddenly that she’d been basically ogling Kate. Her mortification only increased as Kate turned away to root through her makeup bag again, realising that she hadn’t answered Kate’s question.
“Definitely not,” Daphne finally replied, hoping the pause between the question and her answer hadn’t been too long. “He’s always been the creative one in the family- well, him and Francesca.”
“Is that your sister?”
“One of them.”
Turning back to her, Kate reached towards Daphne, beginning to dab at her face with white face paint, asking, “How many do you have?”
“I’ve three sisters,” Daphne answered, this time managing to hold back her snort of laughter at Kate’s next words.
“Wow, three sisters and two brothers- I can’t imagine coming from a family of six siblings.”
“Eight,” Daphne corrected her.
Turning away to grab some powder and blush, Kate’s next words were laced with confusion.
“I’m sorry?”
“There’s eight of us- you’ve met Ben of course, and Greg's in the vampire room, so you've probably come across him too, but I’ve four brothers in total,” Daphne explained.
Kate laughed softly, her eyebrows raised in disbelief as she replied, “And I thought having one sister was a handful.”
“You’ve a sister?”
Nodding, Kate began to sweep blush across Daphne’s cheek, her face one of concentration on the job at hand, even as she told Daphne, “Edwina- she’s the reason I’m here in the first place. She’s one of the witches, and is loving every second of getting to pull out the Shakespeare references.”
Smirking, Daphne asked, “I’m guessing she’s younger than you?”
Pausing with her brush almost touching Daphne’s cheek, Kate looked up, frowning slightly.
“What gave me away?”
Daphne smiled, pursing her lips together for a second before replying, “Like recognises like, I guess. I’m reliably told that I tend to take on a tone of mild exasperation when I talk about my younger siblings, a tone I’ve heard all too often from my older brothers, so it wasn’t hard to pick up on the same tone when you talk about your sister.”
Kate laughed, the same soft laugh from earlier, warming Daphne as though she was suddenly sitting in sunlight. The brush finally making contact with Daphne’s cheek, Kate once again focussed on sweeping powder across Daphne’s face, responding absentmindedly, “We suffer through.”
“And we don’t let on how much we like them,” Daphne finished, her lips quirking up as Kate chuckled again.
“Exactly.”
Leaning back, Kate set down the brush, clapping her hands together.
“OK, base is done- we’ll do your eyes next.”
Daphne watched as Kate picked out some more face paint, as well as actual makeup- an eyeshadow palette, mascara, and eyeliner. Daphne couldn’t help but think that Kate had really nice hands- nimble fingers of one hand spinning a makeup brush around for a moment, the fingers of her free hand tapping against the table.
Distracted by Kate’s hands, Daphne jumped slightly at the noise of the chair scraping off the ground.
“Sorry, I’ll need to be a bit closer for this bit- it’s a bit more intricate than the foundation,” Kate apologised, quieter than before, and when Daphne looked at her, she had to raise her head slightly to meet her gaze, the space between them reduced to a few inches, the height difference suddenly making itself known. Daphne was achingly aware of their closeness; it was all she could do not to press just an extra bit forward, to make contact with Kate’s body.
Kate’s hand reached up, making gentle contact with Daphne’s jaw. Barely holding back her sharp intake of breath, Daphne just about managed to stay silent as Kate tilted her head to the side to get better access to the side she was working on.
“Close your eyes, Daphne.”
Kate was in trouble.
She was too close, Daphne was right there, her eyes slipping closed at Kate’s request, her tongue coming out to lick across her lower lip, driving Kate to distraction. Picking up the makeup palette, her hand tapping a nervous beat against the lid, Kate took a deep breath, willing herself to focus. She was here to help Daphne out, not to waste time looking at her.
Flipping the lid open, Kate’s hands shook slightly, the brush picking up far too much product as it skittered across the eyeshadow. Tapping the brush against the side of the palette, Kate leant forward, bringing the brush up to Daphne’s face. Daphne drew in a breath as the brush touched her eyelid, and Kate reprimanded herself for not giving Daphne more warning. Daphne’s eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open.
The silence felt almost oppressive after their earlier back and forth, and yet Kate could not bring herself to break it. The small part of her mind not consumed by thoughts of Daphne was focussed on not messing up the makeup look she was working on- the eyeliner and mascara especially needing her to concentrate. It left no room in Kate’s brain for witty conversation starters, no way to cut through the tension that had formed between the two of them, all encompassing, almost stifling.
Kate took one final moment to take in Daphne’s face this close, lingering on her lips before finally pulling back, murmuring, “Ok, all done,” her voice raspy, although it had only been a few minutes since she’d last spoken.
Daphne took a second to open her eyes at Kate’s words, and when she did, Kate’s breath caught in her throat at the molten fire she saw there. Unable to hold Daphne’s hot gaze, Kate reached for the final part of the look, rummaging in her bag with a bit more urgency as she came up empty for what she needed.
“Shit, I can’t find my lipstick anywhere! Can you go without?”
Daphne bit her lip, which did nothing to help Kate’s already frayed nerves, replying in a low, bordering on husky, voice, “I’m meant to be Snow White, the red lips are kind of one of the main selling points.”
Before Kate could reply, the door of the staff room burst open, and Gregory poked his head in.
“Queue’s starting to build up, need you both back in soon!”
Without waiting for a response, Gregory had run off again, leaving Kate and Daphne alone again. Her head tilted slightly, Daphne, who hadn’t turned away from Kate during Gregory’s interruption, seemed to nod to herself almost imperceptibly, before suggesting casually, “Guess I’ll just have to borrow some of yours.”
“But I don’t have any with me?” Kate’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, watching as Daphne’s eyes glinted with mischief, certain she was missing something.
“Only one thing for it then, you’ll just have to kiss me.”
Kate’s eyes widened, sure she had misheard.
“I- what?”
Daphne’s eyebrow quirked up, a clear challenge in her smirk.
“Sharing is caring, right?”
Kate was so close to her, had somehow moved further into her space so that barely any space separated them, close enough to see some of the freckles dotted across Daphne’s cheeks that even the face paint hadn’t been able to fully cover. Locking eyes with Daphne, Kate was surprised to see a flash of uncertainty in her eyes, so at odds with her confident, teasing words.
That, more than anything, gave Kate the confidence to press forward, tilting her head down slightly to line her lips up with Daphne’s. Stopping just shy of her lips, Kate paused, giving Daphne a chance to pull away, to laugh awkwardly at Kate for calling her bluff.
“Kate,” Daphne murmured, her breath brushing against Kate’s lips.
Even as it happened, Kate couldn’t say which of them had crossed that final divide, whether Daphne had been the one to angle her face up enough to press her lips to Kate’s, or if Kate herself had moved to taste her name on Daphne’s lips. In the end, it didn’t matter which one of them had initiated the contact- all that mattered was Daphne’s lips on hers, Daphne’s hand on the back of Kate’s neck, Daphne’s perfume making Kate dizzy with want.
The kiss could have lasted for seconds or hours, Kate didn’t know, her concept of time deserting her in the face of living in this moment forever. Eventually, however, she drew back with a gasp, light-headed and out of breath from just a kiss. Daphne wasn’t much better, her face flushed and chest heaving even as she swayed forward as if to kiss Kate again, her eyes fluttering open to gaze at Kate, her red lips parted slightly.
Kate grinned as she darted forward for another quick kiss, not giving Daphne a chance to kiss her back before she retreated again. Not moving away too far, Kate reached up and ran her thumb along the corner of Daphne’s mouth, admiring her handiwork.
“My lipstick looks good on you,” Kate murmured, watching as Daphne’s face split into a grin, mirroring Kate’s own smile, their lips an identical shade of red.
Leaning against a headstone by the wall, Kate reached down for the bottle of water hidden behind it, thankful to have a brief reprieve from the near-constant throng of people moving through the haunted house. Kate was frazzled, had been since her break earlier. Her hand shook slightly as she brushed the tips of her fingers along her lips, her cheeks heating up as she pulled her hand away, seeing red lipstick stains on the pads of her fingertips.
Kate’s mind flashed back to earlier in the evening, her face flushing at memories of running her thumb across Daphne’s lower lip to rub away the smudge that had formed there, her eyes on Daphne’s as she pulled away. The heat Kate had seen there, the blazing want that Kate was sure had been reflected in her own eyes, had made it almost impossible for her to move from her seat, and forcing herself to leave the staff room, turning for one last look at Daphne’s retreating figure, had been torture.
“Incoming,” Sophie hissed, retreating from the entry door, rolling her shoulders in preparation for the next group of patrons- hopefully one of the last groups, Kate thought. It was nearly eleven, and Kate was exhausted. She had all but jumped out of her skin when Gregory had poked his head into the staff room for a second time, insisting they had to get back. In the rush to get back to the vampire room, (near the end of the haunted house, and a long way from the staff room), Kate hadn’t had a chance to ask Daphne for her number. Unfortunately, with Daphne’s room situated near the start of the house of horrors, she would probably be already gone by the time Kate finished up for the night.
“Who dares enter the domain of the vampires?” Kate cried, following the script Ben had written for the group.
The group jumped, screamed, and hid behind other members of their party, either at Kate’s menacing tone, or in response to the other vampires appearing all around them, the dry ice that shrouded each room making the reveal all the more terrifying for the unsuspecting.
The youngest of the group, however, seemed completely unperturbed by the bloodsuckers. Although she couldn’t have been more than eleven, the girl appeared to be totally at ease. Sticking her tongue out at Greg, she sauntered over to Kate, staring up at her with a bright smile on her face.
“Are you the leader of the vampires?” She asked, sounding curious, rather than nervous, as most people passing through the haunted house were when they spoke to Kate.
Baring her teeth, running her tongue across her fangs, Kate loomed over the girl, replying, “I am, and have been the leader of this coven for over a thousand years.”
“Great!” The girl’s smile only grew as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and holding it out for Kate. “This is from my sister, Snow White.”
Kate was speechless, and could only hope that the group, most of whom had moved towards the exit, hadn’t heard the girl’s words.
Not waiting for a response, the girl pressed the note into Kate’s hand, waving at her as she turned to follow the retreating group to the next room, bumping her shoulder against Gregory’s as she went, ignoring Gregory’s mutter of, “For fuck’s sake, Hy!”
Waiting a moment to see if there was another group hot on the heels of the previous one, Kate decided she couldn’t wait, unfolding the note with hands that weren’t the steadiest. As she took in the note, a broad grin broke across Kate’s face, unable (and unwilling) to hold it back.
There was no signature, but it was pretty clear who the note was from, even without the girl’s explanation. There was only one line written on the page, followed by a phone number, penned in neat handwriting. Kate’s whole body felt hot as she read the words-
I bet my lipstick would look even better on you
Under the number, almost obscuring the last couple of digits was a deep red kiss, in Kate’s own shade.