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Ashbrock Curse
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ASHBROCK CURSE
(A HALLOWEEN SHORT STORY)
By T. S. JOYCE
Ashbrock Curse
Copyright © 2021 by T. S. Joyce
Copyright © 2021, T. S. Joyce
First electronic publication: October 2021
T. S. Joyce
www.tsjoyce.com
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Published in the United States of America.
Editor: Alyxandra Miller
Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
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About the Author
Chapter One
She’d always wanted to do this.
Stacia Wallace wasn’t amazing at parallel parking, but she gave it a go right under the Main Street sign that read Hollow Rock Halloween Festival.
A trill of excitement zinged through her as she watched two men on stilts dressed like monsters gracefully crossing the street in front of her with paper sacks of fast food in their hands.
A mom dressed as a pink bunny waited up at the light to cross the street with two little kids close behind her dressed in white baby bunny costumes. There were a trio of elves, a witch holding hands with a warlock, a cowboy and two girls dressed like horses, and a man dressed like the frog prince, just on her side of the street alone!
It took her three tries to park her little Mazda, and usually she would be embarrassed with the audience on the busy street, but it was very hard to feel judged by a grown man wearing a Smurf costume.
She’d always heard about this place. Her Halloween-loving little heart had always fantasized about coming here the week of the holiday, but this year, her thirty-third year, was the first time the stars had aligned to allow her to come.
She had two weeks of paid vacation she had to take before the year was through, and had found a helluva last-minute deal on a hotel here. Usually this small, quaint Massachusetts town booked up a year in advance during spooky season because of the festival. And randomly, she gets an email from the hotel she’s been eyeing for years that there was a last-minute cancellation and they were offering her a king suite for the entire week for half off? She’d been signed up for their newsletter for a decade, and all of the sudden, for the first time ever, she gets an email that a room opened on the exact week she wanted, for a price she could actually afford?
It was a sign. She was supposed to be here.
She parked the car and smoothed out her fitted red and black ringmaster costume. What if she stuck out? What if the locals pegged her as a tourist immediately?
A man in an alien costume walked in front of her car with a Starbucks coffee in his hand.
Okay then. She would be fine.
Stacia shoved her door open and slid out of the car, careful on her high-heeled costume boots. It smelled like caramel popcorn and pumpkin spice. She placed her hands on her hips and sniffed deeply, then scanned the trees that lined the streets. They were all changing colors to bright reds and oranges and yellows.
This was amazing. It was even better than in the pictures!
“Helloooooo fellow Halloween freaks,” she murmured under her breath.
Honk, honk!
Oh crap, she was in the street. “Sorry!” she called to the woman driving a big Highboy pickup truck.
The woman passed, and there was a big enough break in traffic for Stacia to grab her suitcase out of the back seat.
Her hotel, Darkhorse Manor, was just a block up, right in the middle of the action on Main Street. It was an old Victorian home painted in dark grays with cream colored trim. The trees out front were decorated with massive spiderwebs and motion sensor ghosts that bobbled and talked as she passed. There were gravestone decorations and a fake skeleton crawling out of the yard, and an Enter if you Dare sign on the front door.
Unable to contain her grin, Stacia pushed open the door and giggled as a toy spider fell down in front of her face and wiggled around. She stepped around it and made her way to the counter.
The wooden floors were dark and scuffed, and her heels made creaking sounds on some of the old boards.
A dark-haired beauty around her age was writing something behind the counter. She wore glasses and a sexy pirate costume. When she looked up, Stacia was struck by how bright and unusual her green eyes were. She wanted to ask if they were colored contacts and where she got them, but Stacia didn’t want to be rude.
Instead, she led with a compliment. “I love your outfit!”
The tall, striking woman stood there frozen, staring unblinking at Stacia. “It’s really you.”
“Yeeep,” she drawled out. This lady was a little strange. “It’s really me.”
The woman, her name tag read Alex, blinked hard and forced a smile. “I’m so sorry, you just look identical to someone I know.” The smile faded. “Knew. It’s uncanny how much you look like her.”
“What happened to her?” Stacia scrunched up her face. “I’m sorry, that’s rude of me. I always do this thing where I get curious over every stranger and I’ve overstepped my mounds more than I can even count.”
Alex frowned. “You mean overstepped your bounds?”
“Bounds? Is that how the saying goes? I thought it was like…I stepped over too many mounds and didn’t respect personal space. I do that too. I’m a hugger and I’ve been trying to work on not standing too close to people when I talk. You’re very lucky this counter is in between us.”
“She died. A long time ago. She was a very dear friend. A sister, almost.”
“Ooooh my gosh,” Stacia whispered, fighting the urge to march right around that counter and scoop her up in a back-cracking hug.
There was an awkward moment of silence as Alex stared at her with those unsettling green eyes. And then the plastered smile was back and she said, “Are you here to check in?”
“Yes! Yes. I’m Stacia Wallace.”
“Stacia,” she repeated in a whisper as she typed something into her computer. “There you are. Room one sixty-nine.”
“Ha. Sixty-nine.”
Alex pursed her lips. Perhaps she didn’t like dirty jokes, but Stacia just hoped she was trying to stay professional in the workplace, because people who liked dirty jokes were her kinda crew.
Alex turned and reached for a set of keys on the row of hooks behind the counter, and that’s when Stacia saw it. Alex had horrific scarring down the back of her bare arm.
“What happened to you?” she asked before she could stop herself. “Shit. Sorry.”
Alex brought back the keys and handed them to her, and for a moment, sh
e didn’t answer. Stacia felt awful. This woman’s life wasn’t some open book for her to read, and she tried to remember all of the things she’d learned about censoring herself.
This crap right here was why she was still single. Impulse control had never been an easy thing for Stacia.
“Animal attack,” Alex said, her eyes locked intensely on Stacia like she was gauging her reaction.
“Oh. I fell in the meercat exhibit at the zoo when I was eight and did you know those little suckers can bite when they are frightened? I still have a little scar.” She hiked up her ringmaster skirts and pried the diamond of her fishnet tights apart over the almost-microscopic scar that remained on her knee. “We’re practically twins.”
Alex laughed. “You’re funny.”
“You mispronounced awkward, but thank you.” She strode toward the hallway under an old staircase where her room would be, but turned suddenly.
Alex was holding a landline to her ear and dialing a number very fast.
“Hey Alex?” she asked.
Alex looked startled and settled the phone against her collar bone. “Yes?”
“I only brought this costume and one more, because this was a last-minute trip and I didn’t have time to order anything. I want to do festival week right.”
“A different costume every day?”
“Yes. I know it’s weird, but—”
“It’s not weird. I do the same thing.”
“Oh.” Alex didn’t know it yet, but Stacia was probably going to swindle her into being friends. “Well, do you know any costume shops that are close?”
Alex tipped her head toward the door. “Wendell’s is open and he has everything you could ever need. Plus, it’s just three blocks away. Take a right on the sidewalk outside and you’ll run right into it. And it’s right by a kettle corn stand that is to die for. Ask them for the M&M special. They’ll put a few pieces of candy in there when they’re popping your corn, and the chocolate will get all over it.”
“M&Ms are my favorite.”
A slow smile spread across Alex’s face. “Wendell’s is the place. If you hurry, you can have an hour to shop before they close for the day.”
“Okay, thank you! Seriously, thank you. I’ve been wanting to do this festival week all my life!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“Why?” Alex asked.
The question took her off-guard, mostly because she didn’t have an intelligent answer. “There’s not a good reason. I just heard about this place when I was a kid and have always wanted to go. Halloween is my favorite holiday.”
“Hello?” she could hear from the phone Alex still clutched. The beguiling woman lifted it to her ear and murmured, “Hang on.” And then she said to Stacia, “You felt drawn to this place?”
Stacia shrugged. “I dunno. Mostly I just wanted an excuse to be around other Halloween fans around the holiday, and dress in ho-clothes.”
Alex snorted. “Ask Wendell to show you the back room then. I think you’ll like it.”
“Thank you so much for the advice! If you think of any other fun stuff I need to see around here, I’m up for anything!”
“I’ll put together a list and leave it under the door of your room.”
“You are the best,” Stacia gushed. “Okay, I have to go now. To Wendell’s. To go costume shopping. For the Halloween festival,” and then she punctuated that with an excited squeak. “I’m really at the Halloween festival!”
Stacia made her way to the hallway but paused just around the corner. She should ask Alex for her number, right? So she could send her funny memes? And coerce her into friendship with her hilariousness via text?
She turned to do just that, but Alex’s voice froze her into place.
“I found her.”
Chapter Two
I found her.
How many years had Callum Ashbrock waited to hear those words?
Truth be told, he’d given up, and done his best to move on and accept his fate. He’d thought Alex had too, just like the rest of his pack, so her words confused him.
“I thought you weren’t looking for her,” he said, his voice too growly right now. He was at work and there were masses of people around, so he stepped behind one of the concession tents and cleared his throat before he tried again. “I thought we decided to let old ghosts die.”
“You gave up, brother,” Alex said. “I never did. She’ll be at Wendell’s for the next hour, and you can see her for yourself. She’s…”
“She’s what?”
“She’s not what I expected.”
The line went dead, and Callum’s skin tingled with the first signs of a Change. He couldn’t go wolf here, so he squatted down and intertwined his fingers behind his head, and tried to convince the wolf to stop scratching at his skin. It had been a while since he’d felt his control slip.
“You okay, Cal?” Liam asked.
Callum hadn’t heard him approach and startled hard. Thank God it was Liam and not one of the humans who worked here. His packmate would understand.
“I have to go. Can you cover for me?”
“What?” Liam asked, his bright blue eyes swimming with confusion. “Go where?”
“Alex thinks she found her.”
“Found who?” Liam called after him as he strode for the parking lot.
“Her.”
Callum cast a quick glance over his shoulder, but he couldn’t read the emotion on Liam’s face. This would affect his life, too.
The pack hadn’t been shaken up in a very long time, but if Alex had truly found her…if she’d found the one…their entire world was about to get dumped upside down.
Chapter Three
Stacia pushed the door to Wendell’s open and had to take a moment to appreciate the effort that had been put into this costume shop. Up on the wall were rows of costumes, and filling the center of the room were at least a dozen round racks of them. Another wall was covered in shoes, but not the cheap kind you would never wear again after a Halloween costume was done. Instead, there were quality leather wedges, high heels, and boots. She eyed a pair of black, professionally scuffed wedge booties, because after that three-block stroll here, her heels were already rubbing painfully against her feet.
She walked past a scarecrow sitting on a bench and it jumped, its eyes lighting up as it yelled, “Welcome to your demise!”
She jumped hard and then gripped her bodice as she laughed.
“Hello, hello!” A man called from where he was sorting through a pile of costumes at the check-out counter on the back wall. He was shorter than Stacia, with a pinstripe suit and mobster hat sitting atop his dome. A handlebar mustache adorned his upper lip, and a grin had transformed his entire face.
“A ringmaster, eh? I have a lion, monkey, bear, tiger, and an elephant costume if you want to keep the theme this week.”
“Ha, that is something to consider! I was recommended your shop,” she said as she approached the counter.
“By Miss Alex Ashbrock. I know. She called and said to take especially good care of you.”
“I feel special,” Stacia said, her cheeks catching the heat of a blush.
“Alex says you are, and since she’s never asked for a favor in all the years I’ve known her, I’m going to take you straight back to the VIP room.” He gestured around the sizeable room. “These costumes are good, but you will see them on other festival-goers around town.”
“What’s the VIP room?” she asked, following him through a set of doors behind the counter.
“These,” he said, gesturing grandly to the bright, sparkling room of beautiful costumes, “Are all one-of-a-kind costumes, hand-sewn by yours truly. You won’t find these anywhere else. Ever.” He made his way back to the door and told her to, “Ignore the price tags. For you, I’ll only charge a hundred dollars a costume.”
Before she could point out that these costumes were clearly worth much more than that and she wanted to pay him fairly for his work, he waved to her and disappeared aroun
d the corner.
The entire room seemed to sparkle with sequins, rhinestones, crystals, and yards upon yards of beautiful fabric in every color imaginable. She gingerly walked over to the rack that advertised her size and touched a Marie Antoinette dress, then flipped over the price tag on the sleeve. “Nine hundred and forty-three dollars,” she whispered. “And includes full petticoats, the wig, a make-up kit, and shoes.” Shoes? She knelt down. Situated just under the hanging dress was a shoe box, and in it was a pair of bejeweled suede shoes in a mauve shade that matched the dress.
It was the most beautiful costume she’d ever seen.
She had to try it on, but she swore to herself she would pay more than a hundred dollars if she chose this one. The details, down to every last stitch, every change in fabric, every subtle color shift, and every button were incredibly well done. This belonged on some runway at a historic romance movie premier, and here Stacia was, holding it in her hands.
There was a single large dressing room against the back wall of the room, and she brought both costume bags of the dress and its petticoats, including hosiery. In the shoe box was a set of costume jewelry, and in a separate box was a platinum blonde, curls-piled-high wig. She had to make two trips for everything, and it took a good ten minutes for her to get into the dress, but Mr. Wendell was a genius and had made the ties in the back and all the fastens and buttons easily tightened by her.
The mirror in the dressing room was full-length but the lighting in here was very dim, so she pushed open the changing curtain, lifted her skirts, and made her way to the towering three-way mirror just outside of the dressing room.
When she saw herself in the mirror, a small gasp escaped her. A feeling of déjà vu consumed her, like she’d been in this exact place trying on this exact fashion before.
In the mirror, the light played tricks on her, softening both of her eyes to a light brown instead of the hazel and blue bi-colored eyes she really possessed. Strange.