P. N. Elrod - Jonathan Barrett 03 - Death Masque.pdf

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Long Island, September 1777
Molly Audy opened her eyes, smiled, and said, "I'm that sorry to lose you as
a caller, Johnny boy, I really am."
"You're very kind, Miss Audy," I replied lightly, looking down at her with m
y own smile firmly in place. Her little bedroom was a place of smiles for bo
th of us, but soon to end, alas.
"You're the kind one, I'm sure." She brushed a light hand over her bare brea
sts. "Some gentlemen I've known couldn't care less about how I feel, but you
take the trouble to do things right by me—and every single time. It's just
as well you call as late as you do. Come 'round any sooner and I'd not have
the strength left to deal with the others."
"You mean none of them bother to—"
"I didn't say that. Some are just as nice, but if I let myself be as free with
them as I am with you ... well, I'd be an old woman in a month from all the g
ood feeling."
I laughed softly. "Now you're just flattering me, Mol-
"Not a bit of it. On nights when I know you're coming over, I hold myself b
ack with them and save it for you."
My jaw dropped quite a lot. "Good heavens, I had no idea. I am honored."
"And you really mean that, too. Some men don't give two figs for a whore's
feelings, but not you." She tucked her lower lip in briefly, then lifted he
r head enough to kiss my cheek before dropping back onto her pillow. "You'r
e a lovely, lovely man, Mr. Barrett, and I'm going to miss you terribly." N
ow her smooth face wrinkled up and her arms went hard around me and she abr
uptly hiccupped into a bout of sincere sobbing.
I held her close and made comforting noises and wasn't quite able to hold ba
ck a few tears of my own that unexpectedly spilled out. In a strangled voice
I assured her that she was a lovely, lovely woman and I would also miss her
, which was entirely true. In the year since we'd begun our pleasurable exch
anges, she'd become a very dear friend, and it was a raw blow to realize ane
w that this was the last night we'd be together for some considerable time t
o come, if ever again.
"Just look at us," she said, finally straightening. She groped for a handke
rchief from the small table next to the bed and used it thoroughly. "Goodne
ss, you'd think someone had died. You'll be coming back, won't you?"
"I... don't know."
Her eyes, reflecting her spirits, fell, but she nodded. "We're all in God's han
ds, Johnny boy. Well, I can at least pray for a safe crossing for you, if there
is such a thing these days."
"We've been told that there will be no trouble from the rebel ships."
"Rebels?" She snapped her fingers to dismiss their threat to my well-being. "I
t's the sea itself that's so dangerous. I lost my poor husband to it years bac
k, so don't you be forgettin' your own prayers as you go."
"I won't," I promised.
"There now, you come here for cheering up and I've gone all serious."
"It's all right."
She made herself smile once more for me, then slipped from the mess we'd m
ade of the bedclothes. She rose on her tiptoes, arms high overhead in a lu
xuriant stretch. I watched the easy movement of her rounded muscles, of
how the candlelight caught and gilded the sheen of sweat clinging to her sk
in, and suddenly wanted her all over again. The need swept into me, playing
over and through my body like a swift red tide.
"La, but I wish it were cooler," she murmured, lifting her thick hair from t
he back of her neck. "I've half a mind to sneak down to the stream for a qui
ck wash before I sleep. Want to come along?"
The sight of Molly Audy splashing away like some woodland nymph was not s
omething I was going to deny myself. On past occasions when we'd stolen o
ff for such adventures, the outcome had ever proved to be a happy one for
both of us. "I should be most delighted to provide you with safe escort,
Miss Audy."
She turned and saw how I was looking at her. "Oh, you're a wicked 'un, all r
ight, Johnny boy. Goin' to make an old woman of me before the night's done,
is that it?"
She danced out of my reach and pulled on a light wrapper and some shoes; I
left my coat, hat, and neck cloth, knowing I'd be back for them, and didn't
bother fastening up my shirt. My breeches and boots I'd left on throughout
our recent lovemaking. Perhaps it was not really gentlemanly, but Molly ha
d often expressed to me that she sometimes found their retention on my pers
on to be rather stimulating to her when she was in the mood for it. Being n
o fool, I was only too happy to comply with her preferences.
The street that her house faced was silent at this late hour, but we still l
eft by her back door rather than the front. Besides being the quickest route
to the little stream that flowed through this part of Glenbriar, it spared
us from any unexpected observers who might also be wakeful from the warmth o
f the night. Witnesses for what we had in mind would have been an utterly un
welcome inconvenience.
There was enough of a moon showing to allow Molly to pick her way without m
uch effort or noise. I could see perfectly well. As long as some bit of the
sky was visible, the night was as day to me, and I kept an eye out for unw
anted attention. The locals did not worry me so much as the Hessians. There
had been many terrible incidents involving the army sent to protect us and
put down the
Rebellion, but many of those troops had left our little portion of the isla
nd for other places by now, so perhaps I was being overly cautious. Then ag
ain, how could one be overly cautious during these turbulent times? Not onl
y Hessians, but packs of booty-seeking rebels from across the Sound might b
e lurking about. My past experiences had taught me that avoidance was far p
referable to encounter when it came to dealing with either of them.
We reached the stream without trouble, though, and walked upon its bank unt
il coming to a spot lending itself to an easy descent. Giggling, Molly stri
pped off her thin garment and shoes and gingerly stepped into the shallows.
"It's just right!" she gasped. "Oh, do come in!"
I laughed, shaking my head. "You know it doesn't like me much." She was ve
ry well aware of my singular problem with free-flowing water, but chose to
ignore it as part of her game with me.
"Coward," she called and bent to sweep her hand in the stream to splash me.
"Right you are," I called back. I made no move to dodge, but waved and tea
sed her on, getting a good soaking before she tired from the play. My hair
fell dripping and untidy about my face, and my shirt clung like a second
skin. Though the heat of summer had even less effect upon me than the cold
of winter, I must have had some sense of it for this state of damp dishev
elment to feel so pleasant. Or perhaps it was Molly's undemanding company,
her acceptance of me, of my shortcomings as well as my gifts.
I dropped upon our favorite grassy spot, where she'd left her clothes. Propp
ed on my elbows, I had a fine view of her bathing. Moonlight filtered throug
h the scattered branches overhead, making irregular patterns in black and si
lver over her body that shifted and shimmered as she moved. She didn't look
quite real; she'd become a creature of mist and shadow. Even her laughter ha
d been turned into something magical by the wide sky and the woods as it mer
ged with the small sounds of hidden life all around us. I could scent it upo
n the warm wind, the green things, the musk of passing animals, the last of
the summer flowers, the vitality of the earth itself where I lay. To my ears
came the soft drift of
leaves in the wind, the creeping progress of insects seeking to escape my pr
esence, the annoyed call of a nearby bird and answering cries from those mor
e distant.
This unnatural augmentation of my senses was all part of my changed condit
ion, of course, and could not be ignored any more than I could ignore the
blinding explosion of a sunrise. But I was well content, something that wo
uld have seemed quite impossible for me a year ago when a musket ball had
smashed into my chest one sweltering morning, changing everything in a mos
t extraordinary way.
Thinking me dead, my poor family had buried me, but it was not my lot to r
emain in the ground, for the legacy hidden in my blood soon expelled me fr
om that early and unfair grave.
Sleeping during the day, abroad during the night, and able to command some
very alarming talents, I had no name for this change or whether it was a
curse or a miracle, though the latter seemed most likely, once the shock o
f my return had been overcome.
And now a very full and instructive year had passed; I'd learned of and exp
lored my new gifts . . . and limitations, but was yet consumed with questio
ns about my condition. Only one person in all the world could possibly answ
er them, but I'd exceeded the last of my patience in waiting for a reply to
my many letters to her. The emptiness within could no longer be put off. T
he time had come for me to somehow find her again.
"What a dark look you have, Mr. Barrett," said Molly.
I gave a small start, then laughed at my own foolish lack of attention to her.
"Thinking about your lady, the one you left in England?" she asked, lying d
own next to me.
"How the devil did you know that?"
"Because you always wear that same long face when she's on your mind. I ho
pe you don't hate her."
Molly was well known for her discretion. I'd long since confided to her abo
ut my other lover. About Nora Jones.
"Of course I don't hate her. I'm .. . disappointed. And hurt. I understand why
she so ill-used me at our last parting, but that hardly makes it easier to live
with."
"As long as you don't hate her."
"I could never do that."
"Then no more long faces, or you could frighten her away." One of her hands s
tole into the folds of my wet shirt. "You should take this off and let it dry
out. Don't want to catch a fever, do you?"
"No, indeed. But are you quite comfortable yourself?"
She was still dripping from her bath, the ends of her loose hair sticking to her
shoulders. "I feel just fine, though I should like to feel even better, if you
please."
"And how might that be accomplished, Miss Audy?" I asked, falling in with
her humor.
"Oh, in any way as seems best to you, Mr. Barrett." She helped me remove th
e shirt and tossed it out of the way on a convenient bush, then proceeded o
n to less prosaic pursuits. My arms were quite full of Molly Audy as we wre
stled back and forth in the grass until she began panting less from the exe
rtion and more from what I was doing to her.
"Off with them," she murmured, plucking at the buttons of my breeches.
"As you wish," I said, helping her. Soon my last garments were shoved down
about my knees and Molly was straddling my most intimate parts, writhing ab
out in a delightful expression of enthusiasm. I lay back and left her to it
, reveling in the fever building within me as the central member of those p
arts began to swell under her ministrations.
We'd learned very early on that I had no need to make use of that portion o
f my manhood in order to bring us to a satisfying conclusion, but old habit
s die hard. So to speak. Though no longer able to expel seed, I was yet cap
able of using it to help pleasure a woman, though it was no more (or less,
for that matter) important to my own climax than any other part of my body.
My release came in a far different way from that which other men enjoy. It
was far more intense, far longer in duration—far superior in every aspect;
so much so that to return to the old way would have meant a considerable l
essening of my carnal gratification.
And so, though it was active, if not functional, Molly made warm use of it as
she pleased, bringing herself up to
a fine pitch of desire, then, leaning far forward, gave me that which / most d
esired.
The marks I'd left upon her throat earlier in the evening were long closed,
but that was easily remedied. Mouth wide, I brushed my lips over them, tongu
e churning against her taut skin. She gasped and drew back, then came close
for more, playing upon this pattern until she could no longer bear to pull a
way. My corner teeth were out, digging into her flesh, starting the slow flo
w of blood from her into myself.
It had to be slow, for her own well-being as for mine. Thus was I able to ex
tend our climax indefinitely without inflicting harm to her. She moaned and
her body went still as I shifted to roll on top of her. Her legs twitched as
though to wrap around me, to hold herself in place, but it was unnecessary
for her to pursue that joining. The heat that lay between them would have sp
read throughout all her body by now, even as her gift of blood spread throug
hout mine.
A few drops. A scant mouthful. So much from so little.
Molly shuddered, her nails gouging into my back. In turn, I buried myself
more deeply into her neck. The blood flow increased somewhat, allowing me
a generous swallow of her life. Another, more forceful shudder beneath me,
but I hardly noticed for my own sharing of the ecstasy. I was beyond thou
ght, lost in a red dream of sensation that wrapped me from head to toe in
fiery fulfillment.
Only Molly's cry brought me back. I became aware of her thrashing arms and
extended my own to pin them down. She pushed up against me, urging me to
take more, and I might well have done so, had we not already made love tha
t night. Many long minutes later she gave a second, softer cry, this one o
f disappointment, not triumph, as she understood I was readying to end thi
ngs, then came many a long sigh while I licked the small wounds clean, kis

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