Chapter 8

The Dark Masquerade Ball was at the same hotel the Vampire Ball had been held. It looked much the same, except this time there were costumes of all sorts, not just vampires. Some of the costumes were extremely elegant, others were silly, and some were extremely sexual.

A very curvaceous woman walked by, wearing nothing except elaborate body paint airbrushed onto her naked flesh. I stared at the painted fleshy lips between her legs and felt a surge of desire flow through me. I had never been attracted to a woman before; this was a completely new feeling. Another woman walked by wearing a fishnet gown, her hard nipples poking through the holes of the dress. As she passed by, I caught her scent in the air, and it aroused me even more.

The whole room was charged with sexual tension and electricity. It was making me dizzy. Christien and I found a table at which to sit down. He helped me put on my mask, then he went to get us something to drink. I scanned the room for Quillon, but everyone wore a mask except Christien. Quillon could have been anywhere.

Christien returned with my drink, “I just ran into an old friend of mine at the bar I’d like to catch up with. I’ll be right back.”

Jealousy surged through me unexpectedly, but I replied that it was fine; I wanted to walk around and explore.

As I moved through the crowded ballroom, a man grabbed me and asked if I would like to dance. I agreed, and he led me to the dance floor. He was very tall and dark-skinned. I knew it was not Quillon, but I did not want to be impolite. His large arms wrapped around me and pulled me close to him as we danced. He smelled very good, and I found myself staring at the vein throbbing on his neck. I had never really noticed how blood pumped so forcefully through the body. I was pulled out of my trance when I felt his erection poking at my stomach, and I realized that his hand was creeping up the back of my dress and caressing my bare backside. I gracefully pulled myself from his grasp and walked off the dance floor.

I walked out of the ballroom toward the restroom and decided to check the coat room for Quillon. He was not there, but the naked, painted woman was. She was on all fours being penetrated by one man in front of her and one behind her. I watched in voyeuristic awe for a few moments, and then I decided I’d better leave before someone noticed me watching.

I used the restroom, then returned to the ball. The whole hotel had become thick with hazy clouds and moving shadows. It was as if a spell had been cast over the entire place. Dark shadows swirled and danced among the humans—teasing and taunting, unlacing bodices and unzipping zippers. Bare human flesh was being exposed, adding fuel to the fires of sexual energy coursing through the room. I stood, spellbound, watching bodies join in carnal passion on the dance floor. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find a masked man dressed all in black, except for a white ruffled shirt. The ruby and onyx cross hung around his throat.

“Quillon?” I asked.

“Oui, my love. It is I,” he replied with his smooth French accent.

“What do you think of this Masquerade Ball?”

My brain was so fuzzy; I felt like I was back in one of my dreams.

“What is going on? The sexuality in the air is intoxicating. And the ghosts—their forms are taking shape.”

“Come now, you must know. With all your studies of ghosts? It is almost midnight, almost Halloween. On Halloween, the dead can roam the earth in solid form for one day. They love to take advantage of having flesh by doing all the things they miss. They eat, drink, and, most of all, they partake in the sensual pleasures of the flesh. Not only are the dead walking here tonight, but so are the undead. I am not the only vampire here. The hotel is full of them, and the pheromones are making the humans drunk with desire.”

In the depths of my foggy brain, I vaguely remembered something about the dead walking the earth on Halloween—about spirits returning to flesh. I had never witnessed anything like this, though. Sure, I had seen restless spirits cavorting with the living and causing mischief, but this? This overload of carnality was not something I had ever heard of.

Amid all the humans and spirits, I scanned the room for other vampires. I soon found several. A beautifully erotic female vampire was wrapping her body around the dark-skinned man I’d danced with earlier. She sat him down in a chair and released his penis from its cloth restraint. Pulling up her dress she mounted him. She hid their union with her flowing skirts, but the movement of her hips hid nothing. I watched her bite into him and drink as she made love to him.

Across the room, two male vampires had a buxom brunette pinned between them. They penetrated her with flesh and fang. I was amazed; there were so many. I couldn’t believe I had not noticed. The smell of blood and sex was mingling in the air, and I started to feel fear. Quillon noticed.

“Do not worry, ma chérie. No one will be harmed. These vampires are all creatures of pleasure. They will not drain and kill, only seduce and feed. No one will die, but the dead will live. Watch. As it gets closer to midnight, the shadows will get thicker and take human form.”

I watched the shadows form flesh. They swirled and danced as body parts flickered and emerged from the darkness, then fell back into emptiness. Ghostly breasts rubbed against male flesh, specter penises dipped in and out of womanly openings, and mortal cocks disappeared into pulsating air. It was a supernatural orgy.

Quillon put his arm around me, claiming me as his own so no ghost or ghoul would touch me. I felt safe next to him, but the closer I got to him, the more the spell of passion overtook me. I wanted to rip off my clothes and take part in the orgy. I wanted to get down on my hands and knees and release his marble shaft from its fabric restraints.

I stared at his face as he watched the crowd. He still wore a mask over his eyes and nose. All I could see were his full masculine lips that I longed to kiss. His hair was long and raven black, much like Christien’s. I suddenly wondered where Christien was. Had he been seduced by ghosts or vampires? Was he somewhere making love to the dead or the undead? Did it matter? I was with Quillon. Quite literally, I was with the man of my dreams. Well, not a man…

“Touch me, please. Do not just make me stand here in agony,” I said to him suddenly.

He smiled and took me in his arms, drawing me close and kissing me. He was a bit cold, but I didn’t mind. I wanted him. I could warm him. I was warm enough for the both of us. I was so damn hot, I thought I could spontaneously combust at any moment.

His fingers thrust into my swollen, achingly hot core as I bucked wildly against him. I undulated against his hand as I reached for him. He was so hard—so long. I yanked at his breeches, needing to release his shaft and get him inside me.

I couldn’t think of anything except him making love to me I was going wild, and I was going to come. The passion rippled through me, and my knees buckled and gave out. Quillon caught me before I hit the floor.

Perfect. I was face to face with his cock, which I greedily guided into my mouth before he could protest.

“Ah, ma chérie, oui, oui, oh…” He, too, seemed to be under the spell as our brain cells were defeated by lust. His hips rocked and thrust his manhood into my hungry mouth. He tasted like cinnamon: exotic and comforting, sweet and spicy.

I wanted to ride him. I stopped sucking on him and yanked him down to the floor with all the strength I had. The surprise had him tumbling to the floor next to me, where I quickly pushed him over and tried to mount him.

Then, the clock struck midnight.

The loud, ominous ding-dong of the old clock seemed to clear our heads a bit. We looked around the ballroom. The ghostly forms became human bodies. The naked bodies writhed and moved, blending and merging. I could no longer tell who was a ghost and who was real. Everyone was involved in some type of sexual activity. Not a body was untouched or alone.

Quillon whispered to me, “Come. It is time. Let me take you somewhere where we can be alone. This is not how it should be. You are too much of a lady to be taken like this: here, with all these people.”

I wanted to argue and say, “No, here is fine, I need you right now.” But I couldn’t deny him. He led me outside the hotel, where a majestic carriage drawn by two black stallions waited for us. The carriage took us to the Garden District, pulling up in front of a very old, very beautiful mansion.

“This is my ancestral home. I just recently reacquired it. I wanted to have the perfect place to take you. I want this to be our home.”

The significance of Quillon’s words hit me as he led me inside. Our home, I thought. He wants me to be with him; to be his…his what? Lover? Wife?

He gave me a short tour of the mansion, then escorted me into a lavish bedroom. I felt dazed. He had complete control of me. My mind was not working the way it should have been. I was not asking questions. Passion surged and slithered inside me, clouding my senses even more. Quillon faced me still, wearing the mask from the ball. Kneeling in front of me, he took my hand and said, “My love, do you want to be here with me? Will you spend eternity with me, as my wife?”

“What? Eternity? No! Yes. I don’t know. Wife? I’m so confused. Before now you have always been just a shadow. I don’t even know you. I have not even seen your face,” I cried. I was distraught, confused, and a little pissed off. I fought hard to regain control of my thoughts.

“My darling, you do know me. You have known me your whole life; I have always been with you. I have guarded you and watched out for you. I have shown you the world while waiting for you to grow up and be ready to be with me. This past week here in New Orleans, we have spent so much time together. We have made love over and over.” With those words, he took off his mask.

I gasped. “Christien! Oh my God! How could I not have known? How could I have been so blind? So stupid?”

“Because I clouded your senses. The moment had to be right. Please don’t be angry. I know it has all been confusing; I don’t mean to play games. I just wanted you to see the real me, minus the fangs. So, now that you know, has your answer changed?”

“The name in the book: C.Q. LaRoux. That’s you, isn’t it? Christien Quillon LaRoux.”

“Oui, ma ma chérie. I am your seductive stranger and your dream lover all in one. I am yours completely. Will you be mine?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I want to be with you more than anything, but eternity? I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Why didn’t you just let me know who you were? Why all the mystery and charades?”

“I wanted you to see the man underneath the vampire. I am more than just an immortal blood drinker. I still have the mind, the heart, and the soul of a man. I needed you to see that—to feel that.”

“Yet, you still kept me at a distance. Even as Christien, you clouded my mind and controlled my thoughts.”

“No. Your thoughts were always your own, as were your actions. I just eased the way; I let your ego and your stubbornness take the back burner, so you could follow your heart and your desires.”

Quillon stood up and pulled me into his arms, pressing his lips to mine passionately. He kept kissing me as he undressed me, pulling off my wings and sliding off my dress. Then, he undressed himself and guided us to the bed. His hands caressed my bare skin, making goose bumps rise and desire burn. Passion filled me, and I could not keep my hands off him. The clarity was slipping away as desire grew. I reached out for him, drawing him close to me. He touched my face delicately, tracing my lips with his finger.

“You are so beautiful. I love you—I have always loved you—and I will love you for eternity. You are my eternal passion, burning brightly in the darkness.”

The need flared again, this time stronger than before. I wouldn’t be able to think clearly until the need was satisfied.

I kissed his fingertip, then drew his finger into my mouth, sucking hungrily at it. I wanted him inside me. The urgency was building, and I could feel moist heat flooding my middle. He removed his finger from my mouth and put his weight on top of me. He looked deep into my eyes as if he were searching, “I want you to be mine. Do you understand what I am asking of you? I want you to be like me: a vampire, forever.”

“Yes, I understand completely. I want to be with you, but I’m not ready to be a vampire—not now, not yet.” He was right. My mind was still my own, and my thoughts were clear. I reached out to him to reassure him. I wanted to be with him, but there was no way I wanted to be like him. Not yet, anyway.

He sighed, then pressed his manhood into me, parting my pulsating pussy lips with his hard rod. I spread my legs wide, welcoming him deep inside. He thrust into my hot core, sending delicious chills up and down my spine. I moaned and arched my body, pressing my pelvis to his, sucking him in deeper. Our bodies moved together in passion’s rhythm. Up and down, in and out, his cock danced inside me, filling me and stretching me. My fiery sheath wrapped around his enormous cock, refusing to let go until satisfied.

His mouth kissed and sucked at my neck, leaving a trail of fire as he moved from one place to the next. His teeth grazed the tender flesh, and my pussy tightened around him. Yes, yes, sink your teeth in, drink from me, I thought. He stopped and looked into my eyes again. Then his mouth was on my neck again, nibbling, teasing, then—delicious penetration.

Sharp ivory pierced my vein. Finally, my dreams were a reality. I felt the blood flowing from me into him; never had I felt anything so intense, so deeply erotic. The blood increased my arousal, and I bucked my hips against him. My body rocked and convulsed in an intense orgasm; his body tensed, and his hot essence spilled into me, sending another orgasmic wave through my body.

Our bodies were tangled in the dark embrace as we shared blood and ecstasy. He kept thrusting inside me as he drank from me. Over and over we climaxed, until we were drained of energy.

Afterward, we curled up in each other’s arms. He looked deep into my eyes and said to me, “You know you are a lot like her—like Evi.”

“Evi, who’s E—you mean Evelyn, my grandmother? You…you and her?” I stumbled over the words; I couldn’t believe what he was saying. My dream lover—my man, my vampire—used to bang my grandmother. That was just too much. I started to climb out of bed.

“No, no, no. Stop. Stay. Don’t get upset; we were not lovers, and it was a very long time ago. I loved her, but not like that. She was a wild child, a free spirit, a breath of fresh air in conservative uptight times. We were friends—very close friends. She knew me for what I was, and I saw her true nature. We could be ourselves with each other. There was no need to hide what we were. After a few years, I offered her the gift; I didn’t want to watch her grow old and die. But she only smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and said, ‘C.Q, I’m not the one, you know that. Eternity is not for me. I have a full life in front of me, a human life. I will get married and have children and grandchildren, and one day I’ll die a happy old woman surrounded by my children and grandchildren.’”

My breath caught in my throat as I remembered that night. She must have had gifts I hadn’t known about. “That’s exactly how she died,” I said.

“I know. I was there, in the shadows. I was able to say goodbye to my friend. She told me not to worry, that the one for me was out there. I believe it is you.”

“It might be, but I am only twenty-five. I have a lot more living to do: human living. I still want my time in the light. I want to lie on a beach in the sun. I want to watch sunsets and sunrises. Maybe in five years, I’ll be ready, or maybe ten. Who knows? Maybe I’ll change my mind in a couple of months.”

“Perhaps this is not even something we need to worry about. But I do. You could get hurt. You could die!” He cried out, seemingly tormented by the thought.

“Yeah, so could you.”

“Not likely, and not as easily.”

“If I did decide to become a vampire, would the change hurt? All the myths say different things. How does it work? How long will it take?”

“It will not hurt. It will not be much different than tonight, except that, as I drink from you, you will be drinking from me. We will exchange blood. After you fall asleep, the change will occur. You will wake up a vampire.”

“I’ll have to think about it and what do you mean by we might not need to worry about it?”

“You are a witch, my dear, they do not age as humans.”

I sat up and stared at him, “I’m not a witch.”

“Oh course you are, ma chérie. It’s in your blood. How else do you explain being able to talk to ghosts? Your gifts are in your bloodline. Evi was a great witch.”

“And old, she aged.” And died. I would never stop missing her.

“She chose to age and die as a human after you were born, she was much older than you think she was. She came to maturity in the Victorian era. She stayed young throughout the decades always a wild and free spirit who never quite fit in. She did well as a flapper, they were wild and carefree and just wanted to have fun. And then the sixties, as an earth witch the Flower Child era suited her to a tee. Then in the seventies, she started having children and decided to let herself age as a human from that point on. Your mother was the baby. She tried so hard to be a good parent, and it worked quite fine for your uncles. They are good men. But your mother was too wild to be still. So much wilder than Evi ever was. Evi’s nature was always fun and free-spirited while your mother was so restless with a darkness deeply entwined within.”

“So you know my mother as well?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t know her very well, she wasn’t the motherly type. My grandmother raised me. My mother stopped in occasionally for visits and sent postcards, if she thought about it I sometimes got a phone call on my birthday.

“No, Evi just asked me to check in on her from time to time. To make sure she wasn’t hurt. She never was, one thing about your mom, that woman is tough and knows how to survive.”

I snorted sarcastically. Yeah, she knew how to survive, just not how to care for a child.

“So my grandmother chose to age and die?” It was hard to accept that my grandmother chose to leave me, but I am sure she had her reasons. I’d deal with my emotions later, now was not the time to break down. “And I might stop aging naturally?”

“She decided to age naturally as a human and accept old age and illness like a human, she didn’t necessarily choose to die. And yes, you may stop aging. Mid-twenties is usually the age when a witch reaches maturity and stops physically aging unless they cast a spell to age as a human.”

“But it’s not guaranteed?” I asked.

“I don’t know your patrilineal lineage. Your mother’s father was a witch but not a strong one. I have no idea who or what your father is. I don’t think Evi ever found out either. So I have no idea how powerful your witch blood is. The more powerful you are the better chance you have of being pretty much immortal.”

“No, dear old dad is a big old mystery. Mom might not even know who he is. She goes through men faster than locations. So Dad could be an average Joe or a demon from hell. Nobody knows.”

“Time will tell, Lizbeth. Truth eventually comes to light.”

“Well, I would like to know sooner rather than later whether or not I can stay young by your side without becoming a vampire. If I do have to consider becoming a vampire I will need time to think about it. Don’t worry, I want to be with you forever, but becoming something other than what I am is not something a girl can agree to without some serious thought.”

“I understand ma ma chérie; time is something I have plenty of and, as long as we are together I will try to not be overly concerned with whether you are human, witch, or vampire.”

He enfolded me in his arms and held me close as though he was afraid I was going to disappear. It wasn’t likely—not after it took me all these years to finally get my hands on him.