Scarlet Masquerade (2 page)

Clarissa walked out of the bar on the arm of the butch, feeling a little less than satisfied with her experience in the alcove. It was always the same, she wanted release, she needed release, and she left feeling pathetic. Only something was different this time. It wasn’t the sex, it wasn’t the butch, it was a feeling. There was an energy she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. Thinking about it more, she realized that it wasn’t there when she had entered the bar. No, she knew that predatory energy. It was different, warm, inviting, almost consuming in the way it made her feel. She tried to put her finger on it but couldn’t until she was outside in the damp, warm air. Then it hit her, someone was in the bar just like her. But who?

Clarissa had tried to look around when she left the bar, but the butch wanted more and practically dragged Clarissa to her car. Clarissa finally pulled up short and spun around facing the over-excited stud.

“Look um—”

“Sheila,” the butch replied.

“Sheila. Look, it was nice back there, but I am not really up for a long night, if you know what I mean. Besides, I explained the rules when you walked up. Right?” Clarissa asked, extracting her arm from the woman’s grasp.

“Well yeah, but I figured once you got a little of Sheila you’d change your mind,” Sheila said, smiling a cocky “you know you want it” grin.

“Yeah, well you figured wrong. Look, it was nice. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?” Clarissa hoped that Sheila wouldn’t make a scene; especially since she had made it very clear she wasn’t going home with her, no matter what.

“Come on, Baby, it was good, admit it. I haven’t come like that in a long time. Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm like that ever.” Clarissa knew Shelia was flattering her, hoping it would change her mind.

“Look, I’m flattered, but we’re done. Thank you for a memorable evening. Now, if you will excuse me, good night,” Clarissa said, walking to her car, not looking back. She hoped that the hormonal woman would take the hint as she walked faster to her car. Clarissa hit the remote to her car and practically jumped in and hit the lock switch.

Phew, why do women say they understand the agreement and then act as if they never heard it? Geez, I think celibacy might be a lot easier and more rewarding.

The more Clarissa thought about Sheila, the madder she got. Clarissa had wanted to wait a minute at the bar to figure out to whom the energy belonged. Now, she was left to wonder if she had really felt it. She didn’t waste any time getting out of the parking lot. She didn’t want to give Sheila a chance to catch up and try to stop her. Driving home all she could think about was what happened at the bar. Who could have been there? How could she have not known until it was too late? She was usually pretty in-tune with the energy around her. It was how she had survived as long as she had. It wasn’t by accident. She had also taken great pains to stay out of the path of others like her.

Driving back to her house, Clarissa tried to think about the last time she had been around someone like her. Other than Marge, she didn’t know anyone else. Marge was a long time friend. In fact, she was the only person who Clarissa kept in contact with from the old days. However, Marge was in Chicago, living as a realtor last time they talked. Besides, if Marge was in town she would call. She didn’t just show up without letting her know. So if it wasn’t Marge, then who was it? Clarissa worked hard to stay away from that lifestyle. It was difficult, but she did what she had to do to stay alive. She didn’t mingle with her kind, it was dangerous.

She found that when she had socialized in those circles it turned into a pack mentality. They acted like animals, and she wasn’t an animal. She was a respectable literature professor at the university and liked her job. Therefore, she wasn’t going to do anything to compromise that, period. Clarissa pulled up to the driveway that led to her house, pushed the button and watched as the gate opened. Waiting, she looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone lurking. Just in case Sheila had followed her home. She pulled forward and waited until the gate closed before she followed the short drive up to her house.

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.

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.