Scarlet Masquerade (4 page)

Walking to the length of windows along the southern wall, she looked out over the dimly lit city and scanned it. She watched for seekers, vampires that preyed on unfortunate individuals who were careless as they strayed out at night. There was little she could do for those unfortunate individuals once they were caught, but she prayed for them none-the-less. Seekers had no honor. They lived, no survived, on the pain of others and made no apologies for it. If she hadn’t had the breaks she had, would she have ended up a seeker? She didn’t dwell on it, but she did wonder. She had heard that seekers’ numbers were dwindling. They were becoming a part of the shifting tide of the underworld. Like any other group, seekers hung out in gangs, and what happens when gangs collide? Violence. They dealt drugs, they hustled, they survived on the pain of others, and then they killed them. However, they hadn’t counted on human gangs being so virulent, so violent. Times had changed from the days when people didn’t venture out at night. Today’s gangs lived in the cover of darkness and so did seekers. Too many people battling for the same turf meant one thing - only one would survive. And right now the odds were even. However, that wasn’t A.J.’s world. It would never be her world.

“Purrrrrrr.”

Clarissa slowly released a long sigh arching her back and stretching out from beneath the blankets. The warmth of the blankets made her purr like a kitten being stroked by its owner. She loved her heated blanket. It almost made her feel like she was alive again, the warmth seeping into her bones.

“Come here, Nefertiti.” Reaching out, she felt the soft fur glide across her palm. “Come here sweetie, mommy wants to pet you.”

Squeezing the black cat, she purred back, “Where were you last night when I got home? I missed you, silly girl.”

Clarissa closed her eyes and rubbed the side of her face along the soft fur.

“I was worried.”

Picking up the purring engine, she looked into the slanted green eyes. When she first saw Nefertiti, there was an instant connection between the two. Looking into her eyes now, she wondered if the cat could sense something was off last night and had decided to beat it.

“You’re not a dummy, are you Nef?” Pulling the cat into her, she began the morning ritual of cat cuddling, as she liked to call it. Nefertiti tolerated her owner’s need to cuddle and Clarissa tolerated Nefertiti’s need to bring dead animals to the door. Gifts, she told herself. They were always warm, and that was a bit offsetting to Clarissa. Did Nefertiti know what she was?

“No, of course you don’t. You’re just a cat. Right?”

Continuing the ritual, Clarissa laid back and smiled. If only she could find someone to wake her up like this, she would be in heaven.

She lay there stroking the now sleeping feline as she thought about her life. Looking back, her life had changed so quickly when she left England and came to the U.S. But even more dramatic was the change her life took when she left France, De Marcus had made it clear that she was to do exactly as she was told. He informed her that as her only source of protection, she needed him for everything. Her very survival depended on him and only him. She was bound to him, forever. Clarissa had no choice but to follow him. The rules of the Coven were clear back then. The vampire who turned you owned you, period. Only death changed the order. And since a slave never laid a hand on their master, it was rare that one died without help.

She had been smart and created a life around education. It was easy to get lost in the stacks of books that it took to do research. She loved learning. It challenged her when everything else seemed to fail her. So, she reverted back to those experiences she found comfort in. European literature was an easy choice as well. It didn’t change, it was familiar and it was home, so to speak.

The sun began to peek through a crack in the drawn curtains. She shielded her eyes with an arm. It always took her some time to get accustomed to the brightness, but she had slowly conditioned her body to the transition through the decades. Her eyes still stung occasionally from the exposure, but she found if she wore the darkest shades she could find it was tolerable. Resting her head in her palm, she scanned her room, looking at the remnants of a very long life. Was it time to rid herself of a few mementos from her past? Was that why she had thought of Alexandra the night before? Looking around, her eyes paused on her jewelry box. It had been a gift from Alexandra. It still played the soft melody that often took her back to that past. A past she hadn’t thought of in years, no decades. Except, on those rare once-in-a-blue-moon times when she would wind the jewelry box on a whim and would listen to the minuet it played.

Clarissa had thought about looking Alexandra up after De Marcus died, but De Marcus had told her Alexandra had killed her family. Clarissa knew if she sought her out it would be for revenge. Besides, the rules were clear and her fate had been sealed with one kiss. He ruled her with an iron fist. He had brought her over and she was his to do with as he pleased. Those were the rules of vampires and of the Coven. You owed your very existence to the one who turned you. Until they released you, you were theirs.

She had resigned herself to her life and waited. Lucky for her, De Marcus was always into a new woman every few months. This time it had been his undoing. He had decided to have a tryst with a barmaid from the local pub that night. Sneaking her into a nearby barn, they had climbed up into the hayloft to have sex. While in the throes of passion, De Marcus slipped out of the loft and onto a combine blade. The blade piercing his heart, he died instantly, leaving the poor girl in a panic. She ran screaming from the barn and straight into the path of a local patron of the bar, who was stumbling home that night. Together they had gone back into the barn, only to find De Marcus truly dead. Fate had been on her side when he died.

Clarissa had found out the next day, when the constable had knocked on her door to inform her of her husband’s death.

“Mrs. De Marcus,” he started. “I am afraid I have some rather bad news for you this morning.”

“Please come in, Constable Johns.” Clarissa ushered the police officer in, quickly shutting the door behind him to keep the sun out. “May I get you some tea?”

“No, thank you.” Looking rather nervous, Constable Johns continued, “I am sorry I have to tell you this, but we found Mr. De Marcus dead early this morning.”

Casting his eyes down, he continued, “It seems the Mister was a…” Now visibly distressed at what he had to say to Clarissa, he cleared his throat and continued. “Um, well it seems, he had a dalliance in the hayloft at old man Rogers’ place. Fell out of the loft and landed on the combine,” he said, tugging on his collar. “He a…he was killed instantly.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say my husband is dead?” Clarissa stumbled back against the kitchen table.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mrs. De Marcus. I…” Constable Johns reached forward and steadied Clarissa.

“And the woman he was with, is she dead too?” Clarissa wasn’t sure how she should act. She didn’t want to see an innocent woman hurt because of her husband.

“No, no, she’s fine. Seems he slipped out backwards and just took himself down. Lucky for her.”

It was clear the conversation was taxing on the poor constable and Clarissa didn’t want to prolong his agony any longer.

“Well, I don’t know what to say, Constable. I never suspected he would do something like that.” Lying, she turned to cover her face just in case the constable was watching.

“Can you tell me what the next steps are? I mean, where is my husband’s body? I need to make arrangements for his burial.”

“Well, that’s the strangest thing. Seems Mr. De Marcus’s body has gone missing. I mean, well, we went back with the mortician to pick him up and there was nothing there but his jacket and some ash. I called my captain and he’s searching the barn again. For right now, we can’t seem to find him.”

“I see.”

“I am sorry, Mrs. De Marcus. A respectable woman like yourself deserved better.” Turning and reaching for the door he continued, “If there’s anything we can do, please let me and the wife know.”

“Thank you, Constable Johns. I appreciate the offer.”

Feigning a show of her sudden loss, she dabbed at her eyes and sniffled. “If you’ll excuse me, Sir, I think I need to lie down. I am starting to feel as though I might faint. Could you show yourself out please, Constable?”

“Oh, of course, Mrs. De Marcus. I’ll have my wife stop by later and check in on you. Again, my deepest condolences on your loss. When we find Mr. De Marcus, I will send an officer over and let you know.”

Tipping his hat in her direction, he quickly closed the door behind him. Clarissa was sure he was happy to be done with the messy business De Marcus had created.

As quickly as it had started, it had ended. Her service to De Marcus was over. Clarissa was a free woman, so to speak. She no longer had to submit to anyone. She was free to roam and live as she wanted. She was lucky he had made such a show of marrying her, or she would have been left penniless. No, fate had been on her side when De Marcus died. As her life changed so did Clarissa. Changing her name to a more common English name like Graham helped her fit into her new life better. Shedding the De Marcus name had been like a cleansing, both physically and mentally. Clarissa stroked Nefertiti and slid back into the present. Glancing over at the clock, she realized she was going to be late for her lecture if she didn’t hurry.

###

A.J. tossed aside the covers, swinging her long legs off the bed. Taking a deep breath, she twisted her head to release the kinks that always seemed to develop when she had trouble sleeping. It was a rare night when A.J. tossed and turned. It was usually the condition of a young woman sleeping in her bed. This time she knew the reason, Clarissa.

Trying to rub the creases out of her forehead, she sat and waited for the headache to ease. She had thought about Clarissa all night. She briefly contemplated a drive out to Clarissa’s house, but then what? A knock on the door? A peek into a window? She had enough control over herself to abandon any ideas of stalking the poor woman. However, she couldn’t get Clarissa out of her mind.

Slowly standing, A.J. walked to the velvet curtains and paused as she stroked them. The softness reminded her of her home in France. She hadn’t thought about France in years and now, all she could think about was that time, decades ago, when she first met Clarissa. Sliding one side open, she squinted her eyes as she adjusted to the brightness. She arched her neck back as she felt the warmth envelop her. The sunlight gently warmed her breasts as she moved closer to the shear panels that covered the long expanse of glass. Pressing her naked body against the warmth, she shuddered and felt her nipples tighten. Something about the sun energized her. It was almost as if she was flirting with death when she was out in it. It hadn’t been that long ago that a mere sliver of sunlight would have been her undoing. Now, she basked in its warmth like a snake lying in the middle of the road at night, soaking up the last bit of warmth. It was a guilty pleasure she relished. She knew of only a few like her with this ability. The research she paid for made it possible for her to enjoy the sun, and she did as often as her job allowed. A.J. was shaken out of her daydream when the phone rang.

“Hello.” A.J. turned and made her way to the bathroom.

“A.J., I wanted to let you know I have a line on that license plate you texted me last night.”

Kevin was one of her most trusted friends and employees at her company. They had transitioned at relatively the same time, meeting by accident one night over ‘dinner’. They had spotted the same man in a back alley in France and pounced on him at the same time. If it had been a fight, A.J. was sure she could have taken the lanky man, but he had been a gentleman and retreated to the shadows. She had not killed the poor man in the alley, but had offered Kevin a fair share of him. Since then, they had been quick and deadly friends. At some point though, she had outreached Kevin in drive and motivation. Kevin was happy to play second mate to her captain, going along for the ride. They had parted ways three decades back, when A.J. had decided that killing was no longer her forte. Kevin, on the other hand, wasn’t ready to give up the vampire lifestyle. He had wandered back into her life eighteen years ago by accident. He had answered an ad her company had placed in the trade papers for a hemoglobin researcher. Seems Kevin had worked for a foreign company as a researcher of some type. He had landed back stateside when the company expanded its operation and then left it when they couldn’t compete in the U.S. market.

“Hey Kev, what do you have for me?” A.J. held her breath as she waited for Kevin to divulge what he had learned.

“Well, it seems that the plate belongs to a woman named Clarissa Graham. I did some digging and she is a professor at the university. I have someone checking her out as we speak. So, I should have more for you when you get in to work.”

A.J. felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach as she replayed the information over in her head.

“Hey, you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here. Could you tell me her name one more time? I don’t think I heard you.” A.J. braced herself on the sink and closed her eyes.

“Sure, her name is Clarissa Graham. She teaches comparative literature studies at the university, specializing in European literature.”

“I see.” A.J. paused and briefly considered the implications of what she had just been told.

“Kev, I’ll see you at the office in about an hour and you can fill me in on the rest.”

Hanging up before Kevin finished, she felt herself begin to lose control. She slammed her phone against the wall. She clutched her stomach and felt her body begin to morph into something she hadn’t been in a long, long time. Her eyes unfocused, she stared into the mirror. She felt her body become ravaged by the beast she tried to control for over a century. Her nerves felt like they were on fire as she trembled with the power overload. She threw her head back and let her mouth drop open wide to make room for the quick growth of incisors. She pricked her tongue as she ran it over the tip of one. A trickle of blood slowly made its way out of the corner of her mouth as it contorted into a grimace. The intense pounding of blood in her head forced her to her knees as she struggled to control herself. Clenching her hands into tight fists, she pounded the tiled floor. The delicate tiles gave way under the force of her blows. An eerily haunting moan escaped A.J.’s lips as she began to retch from the torment. Finally, falling to her side, she contorted on the bathroom floor in pain.