Masquerade and Other Tales

by Amanda Ashley

“Never?”

  “Never. Oh, Jessie, I wish I could spend eternity in your arms.”

  He lifted himself up on his elbows and gazed down at her, his eyes burning with a fierce inner glow. “Ah, darlin,” he murmured as he lightly bit her neck, “I might be able to arrange that.”

  Chapter 12

  It was near dawn when Jessie left the hotel, and a sleeping Kathy, behind. Alone in the dark, he felt his earlier euphoria fade in the face of reality. It was time to end it, now, before it went any further, before he hurt her, before he did something they would both regret. Oh, but it would be so easy to enslave her, to cloud her mind and put her under his spell. To keep her with him forever.

  Not that he had ever needed to use his vampire powers to get a woman. Women had always come easily to him, drawn by his celebrity, excited to be seen in his company. That hadn’t changed. Women flocked to the stage door, hoping to meet him, get his autograph, pose for a picture. They slipped their underwear into his pocket, their phone numbers into his hand, and sometimes their room keys.

  He walked down the street, his feet skimming the concrete, moving so fast he was no more than a breath of cool air to those he passed by. He had to let her go, but how? She was everything he had ever dreamed of, everything he had ever wanted, ever needed. For the first time, he regretted what he had become, but there was no way back, no way to undo what he had done.

  Anger and frustration warred within him, arousing his hunger. Dammit, it wasn’t fair!

  He wasn’t surprised when he found himself at the old woman’s house.

  Putting thoughts of Kathy from his mind, he knocked on the door.

  Hester Greene peered at him though the peephole. “Mr. Singer!” she exclaimed. “It’s late. I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

  “Let me in.”

  She stared at him a moment, then unlocked and opened the door.

  He brushed past her and went into the parlor, pacing back and forth while she locked the door.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He whirled around to face her, knew his eyes must be glowing red by the wary expression on her face. “I need to feed.”

  “So soon?”

  He nodded curtly.

  “It will cost you extra.”

  “How much?”

  “Double the usual.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a fistful of hundred dollar bills and thrust them at her. “Take it. Take it all.”

  She didn’t argue, and she didn’t count it. Shoving the bills into the pocket of her bathrobe, she took her usual place on the sofa.

  Jessie sat beside her, his eyes narrowing as she brushed her long gray hair out of the way, tilted her head to the side, and closed her eyes. He watched her, and he hated her. Hated her because she was willing, because she wasn’t Kathy. He groaned. Kathy’s blood would be sweet, so sweet…and for an instant, he hated her, too. Hated her because she would flee in terror if she knew what he was.

  With need slamming through him, he trapped the woman in his embrace and took what he needed. And there was no pleasure in it.

  He pushed the woman away, wiped her blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. For the first time since he had accepted the Dark Gift, he felt like a monster. How could he ever hold Kathy in his arms again, kiss her, make love to her, when he was nothing more than a fiend who preyed on the blood of others?

  He stalked out of the old woman’s house, seeking the dark shadows of the night.

  He had made love to Kathy. Taken her innocence. Defiled her! How could he have done such a thing? How could he have forgotten what he was? Oh, but it was easy to forget when he was in her arms. With Kathy, he forgot everything but her sweetness, her innocence. Her goodness beckoned him like sunlight, tempting him away from the darkness that festered deep in his soul.

  Hiding in the shadows, he knew she had the power to destroy him as surely as the touch of the sun on his flesh.

  Chapter 13

  Kathy woke slowly, disappointed to find herself alone in bed. The clock showed it was almost three.

  “Jessie?” She called his name, hoping he was in the kitchen or the living room. “Jessie?”

  Nothing. How could he have left without so much as a word after the night they had shared?

  She looked up at the ceiling and sighed, not certain how she felt about what had happened between them.

  It had been wonderful.

  Magical.

  She had been nervous, afraid, excited.

  He had been gentle, tender, magnificent.

  She frowned as an image of burning eyes flashed across her mind. Deep blue eyes tinged with red. A trick of the light, she thought. That was all.

  Without knowing why, she lifted a hand to her neck, her fingers exploring the skin just below her ear, pausing over what felt like two small insect bites.

  Feeling a sudden unexplained twinge of fear, she slipped out of bed and padded barefooted into the bathroom.

  Switching on the light, she turned her head to the side and peered at the lighted mirror. There. Just under her left ear. Two tiny red marks, identical in size and shape. And even as she watched, they faded.

  She blinked and blinked again, and they were gone.

  She stared at the mirror, a mind-numbing coldness creeping over her.

  She closed her eyes, fighting a wave of panic. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, she could feel the pulse beating fast in her throat.

  Darkness. She was surrounded by velvet darkness. And in that darkness echoed a slow steady beat. It was low and reassuring, comforting somehow. Her own heart ceased its frantic rhythm until it was beating in time with that slow steady beat. Her panic subsided abruptly, replaced by a sudden sense of well being.

  She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Why had she come in here? With a shrug, she left the room and went into the kitchen to fix something to eat. She found herself smiling for no reason throughout the day, singing Elvis songs, wondering if they would make love again.

  She dressed with care that evening, her hands a little shaky at the thought of seeing him again after last night.

  Jessie…how had she ever lived without him?

  Too nervous to sit still, she wandered through the suite. If she’d been in her condo, she would be dusting, sweeping, vacuuming, anything to pass the time, to work off the nervous energy that hummed through her.

  She had expected him to arrive early, felt a twinge of unease when six-thirty came and went.

  He could have been delayed. Business. A late appointment.

  She was still making excuses at seven. At seven-thirty, she picked up the phone and started to dial his number, only to hang up before the call went through.

  She would not call him.

  Why hadn’t he called her? Where was he?

  Doubts filled her mind, her heart. You gave him what he wanted, her conscience whispered. Now he’s gone.

  No, that couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t believe it, but the thought lingered in her mind.

  At eight o’clock, she took off her shoes and stockings.

  At eight-thirty, she took off her dress and put on a robe.

  At nine, she went to bed and cried herself to sleep.

  * * * * *

  Jessie paused in the middle of a song as a sharp pain pierced his heart. She was crying, each tear burning into his soul like a drop of liquid sunshine.

  He looked out over the crowd. They were staring at him, wondering what was wrong, why he had stopped singing.

  The band continued playing, waiting for him to go on with the song.

  “Sorry, folks,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s do It’s Over.”

  He sang it for her, for Kathy, knowing she would hear, hoping she would forgive.

  * * * * *

  She woke with the sound of his voice echoing in her mind, so real, so close, she sat up, expecting him to be there, in the room beside her.

  “Jessie?”

  T
hrowing back the covers, she slid out of bed and went into the living room, turning on the hall light as she passed by. “Jessie?”

  She looked at the clock on the VCR. Two a.m.

  She felt a sudden tingling down her spine, a coolness, like a draft, blowing over her skin. “Jessie?”

  She whispered his name, then laughed, wondering what made her think he was there.

  “I’m here, Kathy.”

  She whirled around, her gaze searching the darkness. “Where are you?”

  “Here.”

  He stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room. Dressed all in black, he looked as though he were a part of the night, a part of the darkness that surrounded him.

  He took a step toward her, and she retreated, afraid without knowing why.

  “Kathy…”

  “Where were you tonight? Why didn’t you come for me?”

  “I wanted to.”

  “But you didn’t. Why?”

  He heard the anguish in her voice, the doubts, knew her thoughts better than she did. He had come here tonight to wipe the memory of all they had shared from her mind, to make her forget all that had happened between them. He was going to send her back home, to her uncomplicated life, where she would look back and remember nothing except that she had enjoyed her vacation at Graceland and won a jackpot in Vegas.

  But she had awakened the moment he entered her suite, had known, on some subconscious level, that he was there.

  Perhaps it was the blood bond they now shared, perhaps it was simply that she loved him. He could feel it even now, beckoning him, brighter than the sun, more compelling than the quiet rush of blood in her veins.

  “Kathy.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Don’t be afraid.”

  She blinked at him, wondering how he knew she was scared, wondering why she was. She had never been afraid of him before. But tonight…she wrapped her arms around her body. She could feel something moving in the room, something that slid over her skin, something that was hot and cold at the same time.

  “What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  He laughed softly. “Nothing. Everything.”

  “Jessie, I’m afraid.”

  “I know.” He turned away from her for a moment.

  Kathy looked around the room, shivering. The air seemed thick, cool. She reached for the cotton throw folded over the back of the sofa, felt her heart skip a beat as she caught a glimpse of herself in the big mirror on the far side of the room.

  Jessie’s refection should have been there, too.

  But it wasn’t.

  She closed her eyes. Opened them. Looked again, more closely. She saw a faint shimmer, like the ripples of a pond ruffled by the wind.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Feeling suddenly weak and light-headed, she sat down on the sofa.

  “Kathy, are you all right?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her heart pounding.

  “Kathy?”

  She pointed at the mirror.

  He looked at the mirror, a soft oath escaping his lips. “I can explain.”

  She shook her head. “Who are you? What are you?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  She nodded, her curiosity stronger than her fear.

  “You won’t believe me.” He began to pace the floor, his agitation growing. “I’ve never told anyone. I probably shouldn’t tell you, either.”

  He stopped in front of her, wondering if he was making a mistake, wondering if he shouldn’t wipe his memory from her mind, but the very idea was repugnant. To do so would be like dying all over again.

  He held out his hand. If she took it, he would tell her the truth. If not, he would erase his memory from her mind.

  Kathy gazed into his eyes for a moment, and then she placed her hand in his. And knew, in that instant, that her life was about to be changed forever.

  She listened intently as he told her of his life, his death, his new life. Listened, not wanting to believe, yet knowing, deep inside, that every word he said was true. That the man kneeling before her, holding her hand as though he would never let go, was a vampire.

  He told her how it had happened, and it explained everything – the reason he looked like Elvis, sounded like Elvis, why she had never seen him eat, why she never saw him in daylight, why he cast no reflection in a mirror, why he had left her after they made love.

  It made perfect sense. But she refused to believe it. It was outside the realm of possibility. She knew there were people who claimed to be vampires, people who actually drank blood, but they weren’t paranormal creatures. They were just mortals living a peculiar lifestyle. “There’s no such thing as vampires.”

  “That’s what I always thought.”

  “Fine, if you’re a vampire, turn into a bat.”

  “I’m afraid that’s a Hollywood invention.”

  “Then show me your coffin.”

  “I sleep in a bed. A big one,” he added with a wry grin.

  “Then show me your fangs.”

  He took a deep breath, and then opened his mouth.

  A slow feeling of horror engulfed her. He did, indeed, have fangs. She might have thought they were fake, but as she watched, they slowly receded. It was true.

  “The first night we met. Did you…did you drink from me?”

  “No. But I wanted to.”

  “It was all a dream then?”

  He smiled faintly. “My dream.”

  She lifted a hand to her throat. “But you took my blood when we made love, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “Only a little, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

  “Am I going to become a vampire now?”

  He laughed softly. “No.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  He heard the fear in her voice. “After last night, I felt you had a right to know.”

  “Don’t you think you should have told me before we made love?”

  “I should have,” he allowed, “but I wanted you, needed you, so damn bad. And I was afraid you’d refuse, if you knew.”

  She had made love to a vampire. She waited, expecting to feel revulsion, remorse, horror. But she felt none of those things, only a desire to be in his arms again, to experience the wonder and the magic she had found the night before.

  “So,” she said, “where do we go from here?”

  He smiled at her, that wonderfully sexy smile that made her heart skip a beat. “That’s up to you, darlin’.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Does it bother you, what I am?”

  She thought about it, trying to sort her feelings. She thought about her life, the way it had been before she met him, the way it was now, and knew she’d rather live with him than without him.

  “I love you, Jessie, just the way you are.”

  “Kathy!” He drew her into his arms and held her tight. “I was afraid to tell you, afraid you’d hate me, fear me.” He took a deep breath. “I was afraid you’d leave me.”

  She snuggled into his arms. “I’d rather have you as a vampire than not at all.”

  He drew back a little so he could see her face. “You can’t tell anyone. You know that?”

  “I won’t.” She laughed softly. “No one would believe me.”

  “You believed me.”

  “Do you like being a vampire?”

  “Most of the time.” There were a few drawbacks. He couldn’t see any of the people he had once cared for, he couldn’t tell people who he really was. It had been difficult, watching his loved ones mourn for him. Being a vampire had given him a new life, but effectively cut him off from his old one.

  “But the blood…how can you drink it? You don’t go around killing people, do you?”

  “No.” He stroked her hair. “I need only a little to survive.” But lately he had been tormented by the need for more. The vampire who had made him had warned him that the craving for blood would grow stronger as he grew older. He would not need more, she had said, but he
would want more.

  “Don’t you miss eating?” Kathy asked, wondering if she would be willing to give up bread and pasta and chocolate for eternity. “And sunshine?”

  “I sure do miss eating solid food,” he admitted. “As for daylight…?” He shrugged. “You’re my sunshine, darlin’. I can smell it in your hair, taste it on your skin.”

  “Oh, Jessie…”

  “Will you marry me, Kathy?”

  “Yes, oh, yes, just name the day.”

  He laughed, a deep, rich sound filled with love and amusement. “The day?”

  She looked at him and frowned, then giggled. “The night, then.”

  “Tomorrow night is good for me,” Jessie said. “How about you?”

  “So soon?”

  “Didn’t you just tell me to name the day?”

  “The night, you mean, and yes, I did, but…”

  “Have you changed your mind already?”

  She started to say no, then hesitated. “Jessie, what about children?”

  He thought briefly of his daughter, Lisa Marie, of the grandchildren he had never seen. “What about them?”

  “Can you…can we have children?”

  “No.” He let go of her hand and stood up. “Maybe you’d better think this over for a few days.”

  “Jessie…”

  “Think about it, Kathy. I want you to be sure.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “If you say yes, I’ll hold you to it for as long as you live.”

  * * * * *

  As long as you live. Those words went through her mind over and over again as the dark of night gave way to the cool gray of morning. As long as she lived. Would he want her that long? Would he still love her when she was old and gray and wrinkled, and he was still young and virile? Would she want to be seen with him, would he want to be seen with her, when people mistook them for mother and son? Grandmother and grandson? And how would they explain the fact that she aged and he did not?

  And what about children? She wanted babies, lots of them. Was she willing to give up being a mother to be his wife, to spend the rest of her days – nights – with a man who could only share half her life? Would she start to hate him when she aged and he didn’t?

  Perhaps he could make her a vampire…her mind shied away from the thought before it was fully formed. Not even for Jessie could she become what he was. She didn’t want to give up food and sunlight for blood and darkness, didn’t want to give up her family or motherhood. She loved children, hoped to have a dozen of her own. She had been there when Keri’s first child was born, had watched in awe as her sister’s baby entered the world, a tiny perfect being born out of the love Keri shared with her husband.