Authors: Sheri Whitefeather
THE VAMPIRE PENDANT
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. The Publisher does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright ©2012 Sheree Whitefeather
All Rights Reserved.
Cover Design by Rae Monet, Inc.
To all of my readers who requested vampires, this story is for you. Much gratitude to Joy M. for suggesting a heroine with a special kind of beauty. Your wish has been granted.
Tessa Clarins hated going out in public. She hated the way other people looked at her. The rude stares. The pity glances. But today she was braving her way into the magic shop.
This was Tessa’s fourth trip to The Chakra Circle. Luckily the shop was located close to home. Tessa lived in Old Town Orange, a quaint neighborhood in Southern California. Of course she rarely enjoyed its historic charm, as she rarely poked her nose out the door.
But there was something about The Chakra Circle that drew her to it in person and kept her coming back. Otherwise, she would have bought what she needed on the Internet. Tessa did most of her shopping online. She also worked at home as a freelance book editor. In this day and age, it was easy to be a recluse.
But she was tired of it. Tessa desperately wanted to be normal, to look normal, to have a normal life.
She entered the magic shop and the little bell above the door chimed. The old man who owned the store glanced up and greeted her with a smile. He was behind the counter, rearranging things in the front display case.
Tessa returned his smile. Hers was much weaker than his, but it was the best she could do. She hadn’t smiled for real since her face had caught fire.
She was glad the old man never got in her business. Apparently he sensed that she wanted to be left alone. But it was obvious, she supposed, by the way she behaved.
Eager to shop, she headed for the books section, hoping to uncover something she’d missed on her previous visits. Or maybe there was a new book in stock.
Tessa loved books and she was certain that she would find the key to her survival in a book, and she was certain that she would find it here.
Why else would she be drawn to this store? Why else would she feel compelled to keep coming back?
So far none of the other books she’d purchased from this store had helped, and neither had the supplies, but she was determined to keep trying.
She searched and searched, but there wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before. Nothing new, either. Disappointed, she headed for the door.
Then the old man approached her, stopping her before she could leave. “I apologize for intruding, but are you working on a glamour spell?”
Damn. So much for him not getting into her business. He could obviously tell from her previous purchases what she was after. “Yes, but I’m not a witch or anything.”
“Have you considered hiring a magic practitioner to help you?”
“I don’t want anyone else to cast the spell.” She wasn’t comfortable letting a stranger control her destiny. Tessa wanted to be in charge of her own life.
“Why don’t you let me read your cards and see what they say?”
A Tarot Card reading? “How is that going to help?”
“You can ask the cards if there is a spell that’s meant to work for you and how to go about finding it.”
She was intrigued, but nervous, too. The spell she sought was extremely powerful. The idea was to “glamour” those around her and make them “see” her as normal. Basically, the spell would hide her scars, metaphysically speaking, and if it worked, she would see herself as healed, too.
“I’ve never had a reading before,” she said.
“It’ll be painless, I promise.”
“How much will it cost?”
That wasn’t cheap, not by her standards, but maybe it was the reason she’d been drawn to this store. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”
He closed the shop, putting one of those old-fashioned clock signs on the door that showed what time it would reopen.
He brought her into the back room, where she sat across from him at a tidy desk.
Before they got started, he said, “My name is Darrin.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” She studied his attractively aged face. She figured him for around seventy. With his longish white hair and naturally tanned skin, he looked as if he had some Native American blood in him. She hadn’t seen any Native goods in the store, though. He obviously wasn’t touting himself as a New Age shaman or trying to sell his heritage. Somehow that made him seem more trustworthy.
He told her to shuffle the cards and soon the reading was underway.
He explained the cards that came up and what they meant. But unfortunately, they didn’t direct her to a spell. In fact, the result in that regard was negative. A glamour spell wasn’t in Tessa’s future.
Her eyes turned misty. “But I want people to see me the way I used to look. I want to see myself that way, too.”
She could tell that he felt badly for her. That made it worse. Now she really wanted to cry.
“Don’t be sad,” he said. “There are other types of magic you can use.”
She sat more upright. “Like what?”
“Hold on and I’ll show you.”
He left and returned with three pieces of jewelry: a necklace, a bracelet, and a ring. “Each of these holds the power to grant wishes.”
Tessa frowned. He was trying to sell her a talisman? Maybe he wasn’t as trustworthy as she thought. Fifty dollars for a useless reading and now this?
“They’re antique pieces,” he said.
She squinted at him. “How much are they?”
“They’re not for sale. But I can loan you one of them.” He leaned toward her. “I only loan them to people who are worthy of their magic, and I think you are.”
Still suspicious, she asked, “What’s the catch?”
“Your wish will only last for two weeks. But I guarantee that it will come true. All you have to do is choose the one you want and wear it for the next two weeks, around the clock, day and night. Then return it to me when your wish ends.”
She thought the necklace was eye catching. The pendant hanging from the chain boasted a gothic-style cross with a ruby in the center. All of the pieces had crosses worked into the designs.
“Are the wishes only granted to women?” she asked since it was women’s jewelry.
“I have other pieces that are for men. So, are you interested, Tessa?”
Her heart pounded in her throat. “Yes.”
“It’s only for two weeks,” he reminded her.
“I know.” But if the magic was genuine, she would take whatever she could get for however long she could get it. She desperately longed to be normal, to be pretty, like she was before, even if it was only temporary. She even went as far as to confide in him, making certain that he understood how important it was to her. “I’ve been this way since my sixteenth birthday. While I was blowing out the candles on my cake, I got too close and my hat caught fire. It was this silly thing I’d made myself, with all sorts of fancy things streaming from it. I didn’t know it was flammable and when it caught fire, the side of my face ignited, as well. No one ever looked at me the same way again.”
“Go ahead,” he said softly. “Make your selection.”
Anxious, she pointed to the necklace.
As Darrin lifted the pendant and put it around her neck, a reddish mist came out of the ruby and drifted to the corner of the room, where it remained.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Just part of the magic.” He brought her a mirror, proving how quickly her wish had come true.
She gazed into the glass and saw the reflection of a lovely young woman. Herself, without the scars!
Tessa knew instantly when she left the shop that she was normal, not just to herself, but to others. People passed her on the street without casting curious, pitiful, or rude glances. She blended in. She was just like everyone else.
She wasn’t going to waste time. If she had only two weeks, she was going to make the best of it.
She rearranged her work schedule so she could take a vacation and enjoy her newfound normalcy. Since she loved anything connected to Old Hollywood, she decided to reserve a room at the Beverly Hills Hotel, spending the next fourteen days living like an old-time movie star. She even booked limousine service so she could arrive in style. She shopped, too, buying clothes that complemented the pendant. Her credit card bill would be astronomical when this was over, but it was worth it.
She rode to Beverly Hills in a long black Lincoln Continental, with the windows rolled down and the wind rushing through her pale blonde hair. She couldn’t believe how pretty she felt. Every moment was an awakening, an adventure, a short-lived dream come true. A wish, she thought, as the pendant shone in the sun.
After she checked into her room, she flopped onto the canopy-draped bed and sighed. She was in the main building, and her accommodations featured classic wood furnishings and a luxurious marble bathroom.
Tessa smiled to herself. She was going to order room service for lunch and dine at the famed Polo Lounge for dinner. Then she would strut into Bar Nineteen 12, named in honor of when the hotel first opened, and sip cocktails until she got wonderfully tipsy.
Heavens, this was exciting. So exciting, she had plans to get her cherry popped. Yes, sir. She was going to find a man at this hotel and have a glamorous affair.
At twenty-five, Tessa was still a virgin. But that was about to change. This was her moment, and she was going to live it as if there was no tomorrow, enjoying every illicit turn it took.
At dinnertime Tessa dressed to the nines, putting on a sleek black dress that plunged deliciously low in front, showcasing the antique pendant. She slipped on a pair of classic black pumps and gazed at herself in a full-length mirror. She’d styled her hair in a deliberately sensual way and done her makeup with a touch of naughty flair, making her eyes smoky and her lips glossy.
Tessa was downright hot. She twirled around, then lifted her dress and looked at her pussy. She wasn’t wearing panties and she’d shaved herself smooth for the occasion.
Imagining the affair she was going to have, she rubbed her clit. She actually stood there, getting off in front of the mirror.
She used to shun mirrors and now she was masturbating like a little tart. She kept her eyes open and watched herself come. She even licked her fingers afterward.
Needing to cool off, she went into the bathroom and splashed a bit of water on her face. She washed her hands, too, but the naughty feeling remained. Wouldn’t it be wild if she got fucked tonight, if it happened right away? Giddy with the thought, she relished the creaminess between her thighs.
Ready to greet the Polo Lounge, she headed for the restaurant. It was everything she imagined it would be. She ordered a glorious meal and savored every bite, including a decadent dessert.
By the time she entered Bar Nineteen 12, she was all aglow. The bar offered indoor and outdoor settings. She chose to sit on the patio because it presented a view of the garden. Scattered amongst its lush beauty were the bungalows, the most luxurious and costly accommodations at the hotel. Clark Cable and Carole Lombard used to frolic in the bungalows. Liz Taylor frequented them, as well, with six out of her eight husbands. The celebrities who stayed in the bungalows were endless. Tessa couldn’t afford to rent one, but she was fascinated by their golden-age history. She loved everything about this hotel. She especially loved that Greta Garbo used to live here.
Feeling cheeky, she ordered a cocktail named after Garbo. The sinfully rich concoction consisted of Crème de Menthe, orange juice, grenadine, French vermouth, and brandy. Tessa used to liken herself to Garbo because the actress had uttered the famous phrase, “I want to be left alone,” in an Oscar-winning movie, and later became a reclusive woman. All Tessa had wanted up to this point was to be left alone, too.
But now, during these two magical weeks...
She glanced around the patio, wanting people to notice her. And sure enough, someone did. A man seated at a corner table watched her with an intrigued and interested expression.
He looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties, and with his sleek brown hair and a square-cut jaw, he was stunningly handsome and powerfully debonair. Trim, stately, and attired in a black suit, he had an Old Hollywood vibe.
Goodness, she thought, could he be any more perfect for the part? She raised her glass to him, flirting shamelessly. He smiled slightly and raised his, too. Flushed with excitement, she moistened her lips.