Scarlet Masquerade

Scarlet Masquerade

What do you say to the woman you thought died over a century ago? Will time heal all wounds or does it just allow them to fester and grow? A.J. Locke has lived over two centuries and works like a demon, both figuratively and literally. As the owner of a successful pharmaceutical company that specializes in blood research, she has changed the way she can live her life. Wanting for nothing, she has smartly compartmentalized her life so that when she needs to, she can pick up and start all over again, which happens every twenty years or so. Love is not an emotion A.J. spends much time on. Since losing the love of her life to the plague one hundred fifty years ago, she vowed to never travel down that road again. That isn't to say she doesn't have women when she wants them, she just wants them on her terms and that doesn't involve a long term commitment.
A.J.'s cool veneer is peeled back when she sees the love of her life in a lesbian bar, in the same town, in the same day and time in which she lives. Is her mind playing tricks on her? If not, how did Clarissa survive the plague when she had made A.J. promise never to change her?
Clarissa Graham is a university professor who has lived an obscure life teaching English literature. She has made it a point to stay off the radar and never become involved with anything that resembles her past life. Every once in a while Clarissa has an itch that needs to be scratched, so she finds an out of the way location to scratch it. She keeps her personal life separate from her professional one, and in doing so she is able to keep her secrets to herself. Suddenly, her life is turned upside down when someone tries to kill her. She finds herself in the middle of an assassination plot with no idea who wants her dead

She sat on top of her chrome horse looking down at the city lights below. She had done this very thing time and time again in cities around the world, longing for that one true love that never seemed to materialize. Her “once upon a time” was over centuries ago. Now it rarely ended with “happily ever after”. A.J. took a deep breath and stretched her tall, slender frame before descending the long winding road back to her reality. She could smell rain in the air and wanted to make it home before it started. She wasn’t looking forward to a night spent wiping watermarks off chrome. This wasn’t like the old days when she could just take the tack off her ride and let nature do the rest.

A.J. wrapped herself around her motorcycle and took another deep breath. Hoping to clear her mind of the day’s events, she felt the chrome monster between her legs rumble to life. The guttural roar of the engine could rattle even the most stubborn heart to life. Realizing the vibrating iron between her legs was probably going to be the hottest thing she would have between them for a while, she settled into the leather to enjoy the ride down. It wasn’t that she ever lacked the opportunity for company of any kind. It was just that she didn’t want the entrapments that came with it. She knew what the end-results would be. She wasn’t that naïve anymore, and she did not want to watch it end as it always did.

Rolling onto the pavement, A.J. could feel the heat bounce up to meet her. The summer nights were only a tad cooler than the days, which was why she mostly rode at night. The daily operations of her businesses made it almost impossible to find time to ride. So, she took what she could until things settled down. The motorcycle glided into the turns as she guided it effortlessly down the mountain. A.J. loved this feeling of freedom. It reminded her of flying. Well not quite like the kind of flying she was used to, but close enough. She was almost down the mountain when she felt them. The first few raindrops hit her arms. A.J. was sure now. She wasn’t going to make it home in time. She needed to do the next best thing and find a place to wait out the rain. If she didn’t hurry, the rain was going to make nasty work of her leather pants and vest. They already looked like a second skin on her. Adding water would only make them tighter when they dried.

Hitting the bottom of the mountain, she pulled the throttle all the way hoping to outrun the rain. The further she got, the more it rained. Clearly, she wasn’t going to make it home. Down the road, she spotted a rainbow neon beer sign in the window of a building and pulled onto the walkway just under the overhang. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a gay bar, and she wasn’t too thrilled to have to be in one now. However, she had to pass the time somehow. It was either this, or sit on her bike and wait for the storm to run its course. She dropped her kickstand and leaned the bike over settling it onto the concrete. A few women walked past her, eyeing her and the motorcycle as they entered the bar. As she pulled off her helmet long, brown hair tumbled from its confines, cascading halfway down her back.

A.J. looked around and made a mental note of where she was, not exactly the seedy part of a town but darn close to it. Why did they always put lesbian bars in the worst places and why did lesbians let them, she wondered? She shook her head as she took off her gloves and tossed them into her helmet on the seat. Walking into the bar she could feel the energy assault her senses. The predatory energy was palpable, the energy of those that wanted to be preyed upon. And then she felt something different. There was someone in the place just like her, someone who lived like she did. She scanned the dimly lit room to see if she could recognize them, trying to feel their energy as she passed them, but had no luck. Walking back to the bar she ordered a club soda. A.J. wanted to keep her wits about herself if someone like her was here. She looked around and spotted an open table off in the corner of the bar. A.J. couldn’t help but notice the small dark alcove that it sat by and wondered if the table was empty for a reason.

Watching the people out on the dance floor, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Something had moved in the alcove and then she heard a rustling of clothes. Her eyes focused quickly on the movement in the darkened space and realized that she was watching two people engaged in sex. No, what they were doing was hardcore, unadulterated fucking. The kind that happens when someone didn’t know the other person, and they just wanted to get off. It was usually one sided and rarely happened with the same person again, especially in places like this. Trying to ignore the action taking place to her right, she focused once again on the dancing in front of her. A.J. heard a moan. Closing her eyes, she focused her hearing and heard a voice whisper from the alcove.

“You like that, baby? Huh? Yea, chicks like you usually like it rough from behind don’t you?”

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, one of her overly developed senses, and she peered into the dark alcove again. This time A.J. could see a man straddling a woman from behind. The woman’s hands were on the wall as he worked himself into her. The muscles in his arms tensed as he grabbed her hips and rammed himself into the willing participant. A man in a lesbian bar? Well, it wasn’t the first time she heard of a hetero couple looking for a third, so A.J. didn’t give it a second thought as she heard more coming from the darkened alcove.

Grabbing the woman’s hair, the guy whispered in her ear, “I knew you were going to be hot the minute I laid eyes on you. Fuck, you’re the nicest piece of ass I’ve had in a long while. Now be a good girl and turn so I can see your face when I fuck you.”

The alcove was too dark for her to see the faces, but she felt the energy falling off them in waves. It was intoxicating and she could feel herself getting stimulated. A.J. knew what she had to do, and if she didn’t she would barely be able to contain her own emotions. Reaching into her tight leather pants she pulled out a small tin, opened it and pulled out two red caplets. She snapped each one and put them under her tongue, knowing that this would be the quickest way to administer her drug.

Closing her eyes, A.J. tried to shut out the rest of the world long enough for the drug to work itself into her system. Owning a pharmaceutical company definitely had its benefits when it came to controlling her condition, and tonight was just one of those times she was glad she paid so much for research and development. Without it, she would have had to handle her situation very differently, like she had in the past. That was something she just wouldn’t do anymore. She had paid a deep price for how she lived her life, a life without love. She wasn’t willing to throw it all away to go back to her old ways. Therefore, she would take the drugs when she needed to, period.

She felt herself being pulled back into the alcove when she heard the voice again. This time it was the woman’s voice instructing her lover on the finer points of how to make a woman climax.

“Look, you had your chance. Now we do it my way.”

A.J. could see the woman forcing the man to his knees as she inched her skirt higher. A long, shapely leg slung over his shoulder as she forced his face closer to her skirt.
It must be performance issues on his part.
A.J. chuckled to herself.
Now, we get to see how a sister controls her man.
Leaning back in her chair, A.J. could feel her own body responding to the commands the woman was giving to her now submissive lover.

Shit, this isn’t good. I gotta get out of here before I lose it.
She sat for a moment trying to control herself, and then she felt it before she heard it happen...Climax! The energy of the woman’s climax ripped through her body, sending wave upon wave of pleasure coursing through her blood. A.J.’s skin flushed, her head pounded and her body tensed as she rode out the woman’s orgasm. A.J. suddenly realized that this woman was the person she felt when she walked into the bar, the other one like herself. That would explain why she was feeling everything the other woman was feeling.

A.J. sat trying to calm herself, and didn’t notice the woman who had walked up to her table. Looking up, she hoped she didn’t look as out-of-sorts as she felt.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not here to dance.” Realizing how it sounded A.J. wanted to kick herself, but it was too late, the words were out.

“Oh, I see. Betty-Bad-Ass wants a woman to fuck. Well sorry, stud, I’m not that kind of girl. Good luck on that. I am sure with your looks and that body, you’ll find someone like that here without a problem.”

Before the woman could turn to leave, A.J. grabbed the dismissive woman’s arm, stopping her progress. She did not owe this woman anything. It would have been easier to let her leave and just walk out of the bar.

“Look, it’s not that. I’m just here until the weather clears. I’m not looking to hook-up with anyone,” A.J. said, as she looked at the woman who was visibly pissed. She took her seat again and finished her drink. “Okay?”

“Fine,” was all the woman could say as she walked away.

Resettling back into her seat, A.J. looked back into the alcove just in time to see two people walking out of the darkness. A smirk rose to her lips as she realized she had made a mistake. The identity of one of the individuals, he, was in fact, a she. A very butch she. Then, she gasped as she looked past her to the woman walking next to her.

“Clarissa,” she whispered.

She felt as if her heart had stopped beating at the sight of the one woman who was her true “death till we part” lover. There was only one problem. The woman who was now walking out with the clandestine lover from the alcove was dead. At least she was a century ago, the last time A.J. saw her. Her mind reeled at the impossibility of the situation in front of her. Clarissa couldn’t be the person she felt when she walked in, she just couldn’t.

A.J. wanted to walk up to the beautiful woman and demand an explanation. Hell, she wanted to kiss her, to feel her body against hers again. A.J.’s emotions swirled around in her head as she stood to follow the two women out of the bar. She thought about the last time she had seen Clarissa. It was a couple of days before Clarissa died. Clarissa’s parents had told A.J. to leave their house, so they could spend the last few moments they had with their daughter. They forbid her from being with Clarissa up until the end, thinking A.J. was the reason their daughter was dying. Now, here she was walking out of a bar. On the same continent, in the same century, and the same city she was living in. How could that be?

A.J. could hardly stop herself from walking up to the woman and demanding answers. She wouldn’t confront her, not here and not like this. That wasn’t her style. She watched as they strode out of the bar arm-in-arm. Maybe this wasn’t Clarissa. Her hair was different, the color was brunette and Clarissa had been a blonde. Even so, hair color could be changed easily. She was also a bit slimmer than A.J. remembered. Maybe it was someone who looked like Clarissa. It was just too coincidental, a woman that looked like Clarissa and A.J. feeling another person in the bar like herself. Maybe A.J. was mistaken. No, she knew what she felt, and she felt Clarissa. It was Clarissa. A.J. was sure of it, and now she wanted to know when and who had turned her. She needed more time, more information, but more importantly, she needed Clarissa.