Scarlet Masquerade

by Jett Abbott

  Clarissa liked her privacy and loved her house. She had searched for a long time before deciding to take the little gem in the foothills. It was quaint, had plenty of room for her treasures and her collection of rare books. And the view was spectacular. Parking her car in the garage, she laid her head back on the headrest and took a deep breath trying to settle herself. A nice long soak in the tub, a glass of wine, and she would be set for the evening. It was a bust for a Friday night, and she just wanted to put it behind her. Clarissa had nights like these, but luckily they were few and far between. A night like tonight was one of the reasons she rarely went out. After living for over a century, she was hard to satisfy sexually anymore. Maybe it was because she liked it raw, edgy, and deep. To get that kind of sex she needed to visit places she wouldn’t be caught dead in. She had her reputation to think about. Some day she would take that journey but right now, she would make do with the occasional fling and self-gratification. Besides, her encounters couldn’t match her memories and fantasies. She prided herself in having a very active imagination.

  ###

  A.J. left the bar and watched as the woman who looked like Clarissa argued with her lover. It was clear that the butch wanted more, but Clarissa wasn’t having it. A.J. had decided to wait to see the outcome before inserting herself into the argument. After watching for a minute, it was clear that Clarissa didn’t need her help. A.J. took out her cell phone, put Clarissa’s license plate number in a text message and sent it to a friend. She was going to find out who this person was one way or the other. A.J. slipped her helmet and gloves on and waited until both women left the parking lot. She waited first for the butch to leave to make sure she didn’t follow Clarissa and when she didn’t, A.J. started her bike and followed Clarissa.

  A.J. hadn’t really thought about Clarissa in years, relegating her memory to a few quick reflections of her past. Obviously, it had happened before Clarissa’s actual death, but who had brought her over? Why hadn’t Clarissa tried to contact her? So many questions rolled around in A.J.’s mind, and she wasn’t going to get the answers she needed tonight.

  She followed as the BMW drove to a non-descript driveway and watched as it entered the gate. Pulling over she typed the address on the mailbox into another text message and sent it to her associate. She watched as Clarissa pulled in and waited for the gate to close completely before she drove up to the barely exposed house. She was cautious, A.J. noted. She had probably learned what A.J. had known for years. Location, location, location should never be given to anyone, no matter what. Not if you wanted to survive.

  A.J. waited another minute and watched as a light went on somewhere above her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to center herself and not give in to the temptation to follow the one true love she thought was dead. Her skin vibrated as she remembered the sensations she felt in the bar. It had been a long time since she felt that way, and it was invigorating.

  A.J. felt the hair on her neck stand up and her nipples harden as she relived the sensations coursing through her blood. Actually, her blood felt like there was a fire rippling through her body. Reaching in her pocket, she extracted the tin of pills. She wasn’t sure if taking another one would help. The last time she felt like this, she had shared a night with another vampire. Putting the tin back in her pocket she guided the motorcycle onto the pavement and went back the way she had come. She needed to put as much distance between her and Clarissa as possible. What she didn’t want was a confrontation with the woman who haunted her dreams, only to find out Clarissa didn’t remember her. Worse, what if she didn’t love her? Was she crazy to wish for that love still? Hadn’t time shown her that nothing stayed the same? The past was just that, the past, and no one could live there, especially not her.

  Chapter Three

  Clarissa looked down at the street before she walked into the mud porch. She was feeling the tingling sensation again and knew something, or someone was close by. Her charged-up body smoldered with the raw energy. Stepping on to the bench, she sat down to take her shoes off. She looked down the drive hoping not to catch a glimpse of someone. It wasn’t that she couldn’t take care of herself, she just didn’t want to have to expose herself in order to defend herself.

  Squinting hard to see if someone was down there, she scanned the vast property. She couldn’t see anyone. Darkness was her friend and she knew she would be able to spot anything that moved. Waiting a moment longer and still not seeing anything, she flipped the light switch to the outside on and moved into the house. Instead of feeling welcome inside the warm expanse, she felt off-kilter and disoriented. It was as if she was transported back. Back to another time, another place, another country. She reached for an open bottle of merlot on the counter as she thought about Paris, and the last time she saw Alexandra. Why that memory would come to her now confused her. She tried never to think about Alexandra, ever. She knew she was out there somewhere, stalking her next victim. Grabbing a glass, she headed for her favorite chair and flung herself into it. She rested her head against the high back and closed her eyes.

  Before she could open them again, a set of piercing blue eyes invaded her memories, Alexandra’s eyes. She tingled as she thought about how Alexandra would look at her when they first met. So they had resorted to clandestine meetings. Her parents would never have approved of Alexandra hanging around their home. Alexandra had money, influence and time, things that her father disapproved of in spades. No, Alexandra was someone that she could only have met with in private. That hadn’t seemed to bother Alexandra when Clarissa had suggested it. Then one night, she knew why. Alexandra was different, very different.

  They had met at a social function at a Paris estate. Clarissa had attended on the arm of a rather pompous ass of a man. Monsieur De Marcus was a rising star in the medical field, and he loved beautiful women just as much as he loved himself, almost to distraction. He had asked Clarissa’s father if she could accompany him to the evening’s festivities. Seeing an opportunity, Clarissa’s father agreed, hoping for a match of course. That night Clarissa was introduced to the men and women of high society. Then she spied a beautiful, raven-haired woman sitting in an alcove watching her. There was something about the way she watched Clarissa that made her anxious. Unsettled, she worked her way out of the woman’s sight and back on to the arm of Monsieur De Marcus. After the long line of introductions were made, excluding the woman’s, Clarissa and Monsieur De Marcus made their way to dinner only to find that the seating arrangements put Clarissa right next to the dark, sultry beauty.

  A long determined hand reached out as Clarissa sat down. “Pardon me. I don’t believe we have met yet? My name is Alexandra Locke, and you are?” The last word hung on a perfect French accent.

  Clarissa stood quickly as though she were meeting the King of France. “My apologies, Mademoiselle Locke, my name is Clarissa Dumonte. It’s my pleasure of course to meet you.”

  “I don’t know why it would be your pleasure, my dear, but it is kind of you to say.” Chuckling, Alexandra guided Clarissa back into her seat. “Please sit down. People might think that I am someone special and wonder why you stood so quickly. Please,” Alexandra said, as Clarissa watched her glance around the room, obviously uncomfortable with Clarissa’s response.

  “So, Mademoiselle Dumonte, please tell me you are not Monsieur De Marcus’s new engagement.”

  “Engagement?” Clarissa looked over at the arrogant man Alexandra was referring to.

  “Yes, engagement. Monsieur De Marcus has quite the reputation as a ladies’ man and you seem rather, well, let us just say you don’t seem to be his usual type.” Alexandra looked directly at Clarissa, making her blush.

  “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, Madame Locke but —”

  “Please, call me Alexandra. The other is so formal. Besides, be honest. Monsieur De Marcus is so…well, he is a cad and you don’t seem to be in need of a cad. Am I right?”

  Blushing, Clarissa turned to her napkin and placed it on her lap,
picking at a thread that had come loose. Before she could say another word, Monsieur De Marcus patted her on the forearm sitting next to her.

  “Ah, Clarissa, I see you have met Madame Locke,” he said, nodding in Alexandra’s direction.

  “Madame Locke.” Curtly acknowledging Alexandra, he placed a possessive hand on Clarissa’s, which had come to rest on her lap. Clarissa jerked her hands from his grasp and scooted towards Alexandra without realizing it. “Alexandra has quite the racy past, Clarissa. Careful, it’s said she loathes men since her husband died.”

  “Things are not always as they seem, Monsieur De Marcus. You of all people should know how people talk. If we were to listen to them, then one would think you are a dastardly cad that uses women whom are never to be seen again,” Alexandra bantered back.

  Clarissa watched as Alexandra became more animated in the conversation with her date. Alexandra’s stunning features captivated Clarissa. She had never seen such blue eyes before and she felt drawn to them, almost mesmerized. She felt a hand draw her back into the conversation before she realized she had been staring at Alexandra the whole time.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. Monsieur De Marcus and I have a long, long history together. He is only jealous that I did not fall for his charms years ago.”

  Alexandra’s touch sent a chill through Clarissa. To quell the tingling in her fingertips, Clarissa clasped her hands tighter together. Turning toward her date, she watched him flash a feral grin. A definite chill had settled in the room and she felt as if she was the prey between two fighting dogs.

  “Please accept my apologies, Mademoiselle Dumonte. I will seek other seating arrangements for dinner. I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

  With that, Alexandra was at the head table discussing new seating arrangements with the host. Quickly, she was replaced with a rather portly gentleman who had been enjoying too much wine and reeked of his overindulgence. Clarissa watched as Alexandra sat next to a younger man who was obviously happy with the new seating arrangements, as he rose to seat Alexandra in her spot. Alexandra nodded and rendered a smile to Clarissa, who was shaken by a sudden jealousy, while she watched Alexandra engage the young man with a sweet laugh at something that was said between them.

  After dinner, the only thing Clarissa wanted was fresh air and a quiet spot. Sitting between the two men had been an exercise in feigned enjoyment. On one side, one man sat and talked incessantly of himself. On the other side, one had belched non-stop throughout dinner, without the decency of apologizing. It made her want to retch, since he often did it right in her face while talking to her. As they rose to retreat to the parlor for dancing, Clarissa begged her date’s apologies, informing him that she needed to freshen up before dancing. When he rose to escort her, she explained that she knew the way and that he should take the opportunity to mix with the other gentlemen. Clarissa knew full well Monsieur De Marcus would corner another young woman as soon as she was gone. Turning, she quickly made her way out through a set of doors, not caring where they led, as long as it was outside. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made her way to a balustrade that edged the porch. She was far enough out of sight to be missed. Yet, close enough that if someone came looking, she would see them first.

  Clarissa leaned back against the bulk of the ornate balustrade and reached behind with her hands, balancing herself. She let her head slowly roll back and took a deep breath. The warm night air hung with perfumed wisteria that was in full bloom. It felt good to relax and enjoy the quiet of the evening, even if it was for a short time. Soon, she would be home and in bed wishing she had never accepted her father’s suggestion of a date with Monsieur De Marcus.

  Clarissa practically jumped off the porch when she heard the low rumble in her ear.

  “You know, you should be careful out here unprotected, Mademoiselle.”

  Clarissa could barely make out the silhouette of a person standing in the shadows.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here. I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy.”

  “Please, don’t apologize. I was only enjoying the evening, as you were.” Alexandra came out from the shadows slowly and stood next to Clarissa. She was close enough to recognize the perfume, hints of honeysuckle.

  “Besides, I am sure you are ready to slit your wrists after having to sit between two remarkable specimens of the male species. So, you need the quiet more than I do,” she said, as she turned to go back inside.

  “Please, wait. Don’t go…I mean, you don’t have to go in just because I am here. The porch is big enough for two, or more.”

  It was a good thing it was dark out. The blush that seemed to accompany a conversation with Alexandra was creeping its way back up Clarissa’s neck again. Without looking, she could feel Alexandra’s eyes on her. The thought made her shiver. Clarissa told herself it was the thought of talking to an unaccompanied woman that made her curious. It was rare in Parisian society that women went to parties unescorted. It was thought to be in bad taste. The idea that a woman couldn’t get a man to escort her meant something was wrong. She should stay home and be thought of as respectable. The fact that Madame Locke did not stay home intrigued Clarissa. At least that’s what she told herself. No, there was something more about Madame Locke, but Clarissa couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  The silence between the two was almost deafening as Clarissa was startled back to reality by an owl flying by.

  “Ah, we seem to have company.”

  Clarissa looked around and didn’t see anyone.

  “Excuse me, but I don’t see anyone.”

  “The owl. Don’t you hear him?” Leaning in, she whispered into Clarissa’s ear, “There, don’t you hear him?”

  Alexandra’s nearness was overwhelming Clarissa and she took a step back, only to be stopped by the balustrade behind her.

  “Relax, you aren’t for dinner tonight….” Hearing a squeak, Alexandra continued, “…the mouse, he is dinner.”

  Clarissa felt a wave wash over her as she inhaled Alexandra’s perfume. Relaxing against the bulk of the balcony, she turned to see Alexandra staring at her again. She returned the gaze, determined not to weaken under the intense scrutiny. Her gaze roamed over Alexandra’s face. She noticed a smile meander across Alexandra’s lips and teeth, oddly reflecting the moon’s light. A tingle ran down her spine as she watched Alexandra run her tongue along her top lip.

  “Well, I have kept you too long. Your date will wonder where you have gone off to. Perhaps we can have lunch sometime, Mademoiselle Dumonte? Next week, before I leave for my summer home in Italy.” Alexandra reached down and clasped Clarissa’s hand, caressing it before lowering it. “But, then again, I will understand if your date has influenced you against me?”

  “No, I barely know Monsieur De Marcus. Besides, I can make my own decisions. I would love to have lunch. What could it hurt?”

  “Indeed, what could it hurt?” Alexandra asked, walking back into the shadows. “Then I will send a carriage for you. Is Tuesday okay?”

  With that, Alexandra was gone off the porch and back into the house, leaving Clarissa to wonder why she had accepted the invitation to dine with someone she barely knew. Someone who, according to her date, had a very racy past and hated men.

  Clarissa twisted the glass of wine between her fingers as she was pulled back into the present. Remembering the first time she had met Alexandra seemed like yesterday and yet it was over a century ago.

  Chapter Four

  A.J. sat back on her bike and watched the moon as it moved on its protective path across the midnight sky. How different she was back then. She had been a vampire for almost seventy-five years when she met Clarissa. Suddenly, memories of her own turning flooded her mind. She had innocently taken her horse out for a simple ride through the forest when she lost track of time. One minute it was a beautiful, sunny, warm day and, before she knew it, night had fallen throwing her into the darkness of the forest and waiting arms of a vampire. He had bee
n stalking her since dusk, moving stealthily through the forest waiting for his opportunity to strike. Her horse spooked and she was thrown, or so she thought. Landing on her back, she was straddled by a man with shining, almost glowing black eyes.

  “You really shouldn’t be riding alone, my dear. Things happen in the forest. Haven’t you read the children’s stories of things that go bump in the night?”

  Alexandra raised her hips against the dead weight that sat firmly on her, but with no success. She tried to squirm loose but he only laughed at her attempts to dislodge him.

  “Please, you’re only delaying the inevitable, my love.”

  “How dare you?” Alexandra questioned the audacity of the man straddling her. “If you are set about to rape me, I assure you my family will hunt you down like the animal you are and kill you. Release me.” Alexandra felt the cold hand of fear squeeze her heart as her body tensed.

  “Oh, I assure you I’m not here to rape you my love, oh and you will be my love when I am finished with you. You’ll have no choice. You see,” continuing as he bared his fangs, “I intend to own you. A bite will do more than a kiss any day and you will be mine.”

  A simple ride in the country had cost her everything she valued at that time. Her parents, her life and her freedom. To say her master was benevolent was like saying a snake could be kept as a pet. Of course the snake is always a snake and they eventually do what nature intended, kill, as does a vampire. He taught her to control her urges, how to be discreet and how to blend in with society. With time she was free to lead her own life without his tutelage or guidance. She had heard that his life was forfeited when he tried to turn the wrong person. A blacksmith had struck him through the heart with a hot poker when her master had tried to attack his daughter. A fitting end to a man who had lusted for too many and taken much from his victims. But that was another time, a lifetime for everyone else, but young in her lifetime.