Scarlet Masquerade (5 page)

“Professor Graham, wait,” a short blond student called after Clarissa.

Clarissa slowed down briefly. “Shirley, hurry. I’m late for class. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I was hoping we could talk about the masquerade ball, when you get a minute.”

“Sure, but not now. How ’bout we meet after classes? Around three?”

“Okay. See you then,” Shirley said, running in the opposite direction.

Clarissa had started the masquerade ball as a way to get the students interested in European literature eight years ago. Now, it was a full-fledged fundraiser at the university. It had garnered its share of wealthy supporters, who loved the idea of playing dress-up once a year. It never ceased to amaze her how the opportunity for anonymity gave people the courage to dress up in tights and broadcloth. Given the chance, a few would probably even dress up as courtesans, if they were guaranteed not to be found out.

“Good morning, class. We’re going to be discussing the literature of the crusades this week,” Clarissa announced, setting her bag on the desk.

“So I hope you take good notes, because there’ll be an essay due at the end of the week.”

Three hours and just as many classes later, students began to file out of the standard issue classroom at the university. Clarissa rarely gave it a second look, but this time she looked around the room. Was it time to make a move? Had she overstayed her time at the university? The events from the night before played over again in her mind. She hadn’t been caught off guard like she had last night in a long time, and it unsettled her. Students milled about as she made her way to her office, which was tucked in an unusually small corner. She was grateful she didn’t have to share an office, as most of the newer faculty did, so she was content with its quaint size.

Shirley stood waiting at her office door. “Hi, Professor G. Ready to get started?”

Clarissa keyed the lock and swung her office door wide so they could both enter. Pulling the shades, Clarissa flopped down in her chair.

“Sure.” Clarissa dropped her pumps on the floor, under her desk, and stretched her toes. She hated “office drag” and wished she worked at a less formal institution. It had been made clear when she was hired, the university had “standards” when it came to faculty attire. She was accommodating if she was anything. Besides, it came with the territory, she told herself.
If you want to be taken seriously, you need to dress accordingly.
That was her mantra, especially when she found herself griping about the amount of stockings she went through in a year.

“Okay, so where is everyone else?” Clarissa said, clearing a spot on her desk.

“Oh they’re on their way. Mark had a test and the rest of the crew is late as usual. You know, ‘college time’,” Shirley said, as she made air quotes.

“Well, ‘university time’,” Clarissa said, making the same air quotations, “means being on time or else.”

“We’re here. We’re here,” said a tall, cute student, as she entered the office.

“Good. Now we can get started, finally,” Clarissa said, grabbing the folder for the masquerade ball.

A few hours later, Clarissa closed the folder and placed it on the desk. “Well, it seems we are on track with everything, but donations. Donations are down, everyone, so we need to make those follow up calls to those on the past donors list. They probably just need reminding, but we are short on time and long on things that need to be done.” Standing and turning, she stretched and rolled her shoulders. “Okay, let’s meet next week, same time. If something comes up, email me, and we’ll deal with it.”

Everyone said their good-byes, and Clarissa closed her eyes and took a long deep breath.

“Hey.”

Startled, Clarissa jerked around. “What the fu—”

“Whoa, hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me walk in.”

Carol Hayes was a long time faculty member and was assigned as Clarissa’s mentor teacher when she was hired. They had become fast friends, one of only a few Clarissa had on campus. It was a dog eat dog world in academia. The publish or perish mentality created enemies before you even got on campus, so Clarissa was glad to have someone from another discipline assigned as her mentor teacher.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I’m just a little jumpy lately.” Clarissa waved Carol to the sofa in her office and joined her.

“Are you okay?” Carol asked, as she patted Clarissa’s leg.

“Yeah, I just had a weird experience last night. That’s all.”

Carol had no idea who Clarissa really was, but she was the closest thing to a confidant Clarissa had.

“What happened?” Carol leaned in closer so that Clarissa wouldn’t be overheard.

Clarissa knew she would never truly tell Carol everything.

“Have you ever felt like something wasn’t quite right? Like someone was watching you, but when you looked around, you didn’t see anyone?”

“I don’t know. I guess,” Carol said, watching Clarissa as she talked.

“Well last night I went out, and I had this feeling like I was being watched.” Clarissa rolled her head back on to the couch and sighed. “I’m probably just overly tired, with all the planning for the ball and no time to myself.” Lifting her head up, she looked back at Carol. “Crazy, huh?”

“Well, you have been working a lot. Maybe you need to take some time off? Winter break is coming up. Maybe you should go somewhere and relax. Hey, how about Barbados? Sun, surf, and men.” Carol rocked her eyebrows up and down, “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“I think I’m more of a cabin, snow, and hot toddy kinda gal,” Clarissa said, as she thought about last night again.

“Well, why don’t we go get some dinner, and we can discuss your plans when the masquerade ball is finally over.” Carol wrapped an arm through Clarissa’s and dragged her to her feet. “Besides, you can treat. I believe it’s your turn this time.”

“Okay, okay. Let me grab my stuff. I’ll pay, if you pick,” Clarissa said, as she shut the door behind her.

A.J. jerked on the floor of her bathroom, as she still fought with the internal beast trying to work its way out. It had been hours and the best she could do was lay there convulsing. A knock, then a banging on the penthouse door, couldn’t bring her out of her self-induced comatose state. As she lay there, she could hear someone calling her name in the back of her mind. The beast is playing tricks on me, she reasoned.

“Geezus, A.J. What the fuck?” A warm blanket was thrown over her and she felt someone’s breath on her face. “What the fuck happened?”

Kevin turned A.J. over and picked her up. “What the hell happened here, A.J.?”

A.J. felt her eyelids being pried open and a dim light pierced her mental fog.

“Kevin,” she whispered, “I’m gonna kill that bastard.”

A.J. turned and grimaced as she felt a shooting pain throughout her body. Her body ached, like she had been someone’s punching bag. She knew immediately what had happened. Looking up, she saw Kevin sitting in an armchair by her bed.

“How long have I been out?” she whispered.

“Define out?” Kevin asked, as he got up and moved to the edge of the bed. “If you mean sleeping, a couple of hours. If you mean creepy, crawly out, I don’t know.”

“I didn’t leave this penthouse, if that is what you mean by creepy, crawly out.” A.J. closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, well if you hurt as bad as that bathroom floor looks, ouch is an understatement.” Kevin held two red capsules and nodded, “I think you need these. I don’t want you going all creepy, crawly on me. If you know what I mean.”

Taking the capsules, A.J. cracked each one and put them under her tongue. She felt like someone had just given her food to level out her blood sugar. The effects were immediate.

“Thanks.”

“Okay, I just have one question. Who is it you want to kill?” Kevin moved back to the armchair, just in case he was on her short list.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t you.” Sitting up, A.J. adjusted the blanket to cover her naked body. Not that it mattered now, but she didn’t need Kevin focused on anything but the orders she was about to give him.

“I need you to find someone for me.” A.J. felt herself become angry again and took a minute to compose herself. “His name is Jean Pierre De Marcus. He could be going by the title Dr. De Marcus, or he may have changed his name altogether. However, I doubt it. He’s an arrogant asshole.”

“I’m confused. Does this have anything to do with the name I gave you this morning?”

“I am afraid it might. He was one of us, back in the day, and the woman you told me about...” A.J. bit her lower lip and then gave a piercing stare at Kevin. “She was my lover, but she wasn’t a vampire. I am afraid the bastard turned her.”

“Okay, I’m still confused. Why didn’t you turn her?”

“Because she didn’t want to be turned.” A.J. stood-up, wrapping the blanket around her. “She was dying, the last time I saw her. Her parents forbid me to see her, and I thought she died.”

Wrapping the blanket around her, A.J. got up and walked to the window, looking out over the night skyline. Below, cars crawled to stoplights and a few people milled around. She watched as the first drops of rain began to slide down her high-rise window. The popping of umbrellas started to line the street below as people began to scurry faster.

“Look, I don’t know anything about her life now, so I want you to find out as much as you can. Okay?” Walking to her closet, she tossed the blanket and pulled a sweater on. Reaching for some jeans, she yelled over her shoulder, “and find that bastard, De Marcus. Because I am gonna kill him for what he did to her.”

“All right, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you when I find something out,” Kevin said, as he closed the door to the penthouse.

A.J. walked back to the window and put her hands on the cool glass. Wishing she could feel the connection with Clarissa again, she closed her eyes and opened herself up to the emotional energy surrounding her. She had felt her last night. Maybe she could reconnect with her. She jerked immediately as she felt a twisting in her gut. It felt like a knife piercing her. Taking a deep breath and tightening her stomach, she lowered her head. Looking down to the street, she tried to see who, or what she was feeling. This was a dangerous game she was playing, and she knew it. She hadn’t been connected to Clarissa in over a century. There was no way of knowing if she could still feel her, even now. She had shut herself down to those connections for a good reason and this wasn’t a time to act on emotion. Pulling herself back in, she looked down and scanned the street and park below, knowing she probably didn’t want to know what had just happened.

Walking to the desk, she picked up the phone and dialed Kevin. Waiting, she wondered what she was going to do now. Confront Clarissa or wait and kill De Marcus.

“This is Kevin.”

“Hey, Kev, I need a cell phone and any more information you might have on Clarissa Graham.” A.J. steeled herself for the blow she knew was coming.

“Yeah, I kinda figured you needed a new ball and chain when I saw it in pieces on the bathroom floor. Over on the bar is a box with a new one.” A.J. heard Kevin cover the mouthpiece of the phone before he responded to the second part of her statement. “Sorry, that was the P.I. I hired. Okay are you ready for this? Maybe I should come over, just in case something happens?”

A.J. could sense Kevin’s nervousness through the phone.

“No, I’ll be fine. Just spill it.” A.J. poured a glass of scotch and plopped down in the leather armchair by the desk.

“Okay, I haven’t had a chance to go through everything, but let me see if I can give it to you in a nutshell.

“Well, Clarissa Graham, according to university records, is single. She has been with the university for about—hhmm, eight years. She lives at the address you gave me and hasn’t had a speeding ticket, accident, or come up on anyone’s radar during that time.”

“Actually, she doesn’t come up on anyone’s radar before 2001, when it says she graduated from college with a degree in comparative literature. She’s good, if she can keep this low a profile.”

“Hmm,” was all A.J. could say. “What about Mr. De Marcus? Anything on his whereabouts?” A.J. shifted, throwing her long legs over the arm of the chair.

“Well, that’s the report that was just delivered to me, so let me look real quick.”

As A.J. waited, she wondered why Clarissa was single. When someone transitioned, they were usually bound to the person who brought them over. Something wasn’t adding up and it only made A.J. angrier, to think about all of those years she had wasted, when Clarissa was alive and this close.

“Okay. You still there?”

“Yeah”

“I’ve looked over the report and there is nothing about a Jean-Pierre De Marcus in the United States. You want me to do a detailed investigation on him and see if we can come up with more info?”

Rubbing her fingers across her lips, she thought about whether she really wanted to find De Marcus. If she found him, she knew she would kill him. That wasn’t the question. However, did she need more information or time to find out about Clarissa? That was the real question.

“Tell you what; I’m going to give you a starting point to look for this bastard. Then I want a detailed report on Clarissa. Where she goes? What she eats? Who she sees? The works.”

“You got it. Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I think I need to rest tonight. Then, I’ll be ready to start fresh in the morning.” A.J. slowly and methodically detailed everything she knew about Jean-Pierre De Marcus. His dealings with women, his former address in Paris and even where De Marcus’s parents were buried.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” A.J. was sure Kevin’s head was reeling, but she needed to be sure he found the bastard and quick.

“See ya tomorrow.”

Hanging up the phone, she laid her head back. She drummed her fingers on the leather, thinking about De Marcus.
Where was he and why was Clarissa by herself?
She wondered.

Nothing was making any sense. She had lived long enough to know some vampires treated their underlings like trophies. The bigger the herd, or harem in De Marcus’s case, the more prestigious you were. A follower would often be set free, as the responsibility of always watching their underlings soon became too much of a burden to the vampire.