The Necklace (Haunting Love - Vol. 2): Haunting Love, #2

By Emma Brown

Volume 2 of the Haunting Love series

After solving the mystery of the man and the suitcase, Chelsea feels more confident in her new city and with her sexuality. She returns to running, one of her favorite pastimes back in Idaho, when she happens upon the famous George Washington statue in the Boston Public Gardens.

When she finds a pearl necklace floating in a pool of blood in front of the statue, Chelsea is horrified. A single clue is engraved on the necklace, "For 1 Waltham Street". 

Chelsea makes it a second job to track down the owner of the necklace in this roller coaster of a story that takes the reader through the streets of Boston and into its bedrooms.

Note: Parts of Haunting Love were previously published as Chelsea’s Secrets.

Also includes Sneak Peeks at some upcoming novels!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roja Publishing
• Release date: Oct 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536542479

Emma Brown

Emma Brown is an investigative reporter at The Washington Post. In her life before journalism, she worked as a wilderness ranger in Wyoming and a middle school math teacher in Alaska. She lives with her husband and two children in Washington, DC.

Book preview

Volume 2 of the Haunting Love series

After solving the mystery of the man and the suitcase, Chelsea feels more confident in her new city and with her sexuality. She returns to running, one of her favorite pastimes back in Idaho, when she happens upon the famous George Washington statue in the Boston Public Gardens.

When she finds a pearl necklace floating in a pool of blood in front of the statue, Chelsea is horrified. A single clue is engraved on the necklace, For 1 Waltham Street. 

Chelsea makes it a second job to track down the owner of the necklace in this roller coaster of a story that takes the reader through the streets of Boston and into its bedrooms.

Note: Parts of Haunting Love were previously published as Chelsea’s Secrets.

Also includes Sneak Peeks at some upcoming novels!

~Volume Two ~

I had buried myself in schoolwork since Mason left. He was the biggest thing in my life for such a long time that I didn’t know what to do with myself when he was gone. It seemed like everything around me was a reminder of him. It took me a few weeks to realize that the only thing I could do, the only option I had, was to move on. I missed him terribly but I decided to use my time alone to explore and get to know the city a little better. I wandered for hours each day, leaving home in the early morning light and not returning until it was dark. I rode public transport, I walked, I ran. I went to museums, public parks, and tried at least one new restaurant every day. I blossomed. I was now a regular at a local organic grocery store and I was growing quite fond of Boston Public Gardens. The local store gave me that sense of friendship back; the feeling that people were excited to be with me again and that I had somewhere familiar I could go most days. The Gardens gave me the quite time I needed to be by myself and alone with my own thoughts, to try and process everything that I had experienced in such a short time.

I had also decided to get back into running. It was one of my favorite things to do back home and it usually cleared my head. Just me and the open road for miles and miles. I’d even gotten into long distance running back in Idaho. I wasn’t quite in long-distance running shape now but just hitting the pavement with my own two feet and the fresh morning air each day had been doing wonders to ground me and clear my head. I hardly ever thought about my ex-boyfriend Fitch anymore but I did find myself going back to Mason, over and over again. His green eyes. The way he smelled. The way he made love to me. It had all been...dreamlike. I just could not get him off my mind, no matter how hard I tried. How could I ever tell my new friend at college Brittany anything about it? I kept it all inside. At college, I was normal. Just another single, overworked grad student. In my rented brownstone room, though, I was a strange girl who did some very, very strange things at night. I could hardly bring myself to call home and talk with my parents. I was worried my family would sense the change in my voice, would somehow know what I had really been up to. Fortunately, they didn’t pick up on anything at all.

For weeks, I’d been seized by images that Mason somehow had been transmitting to me. I didn’t understand the process, or even pretend to. I would sometimes wake in the night, with the sensation of having just had a hot or terrible dream. There was no rhyme or reason to why I was getting these dreams in my head. Yet, somehow, I knew that they had been sent by Mason. I could just sense it.

I had just woken from another one. Sweaty and disorientated, I peered around my room, reminding myself that it was all just a dream. This one wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about Mason either; at least, not exactly. It was a dream seen from Mason’s perspective. As though I was watching a movie shown entirely from Mason’s view. He’s walking down a dark city street. There’s a lone streetlight at the end of the cobblestone road. It’s foggy out. He wears heavy boots. He makes sure to walk lightly so as not to cause too many sounds.

The row houses surrounding him are lively, bordering on rowdy, porches filled with nighttime parties and people having a good time. I could hear the sounds of women laughing and men toasting. This was not Boston, certainly. The weather was far too nice for this time of year. It was warm and sticky and felt like the tropics. To the left of Mason, an odd graveyard loomed, looking more like a sculpture museum than a cemetery. In the dream, I, or Mason, walked fast away from it; I did not like the feeling it gave off. There was a woman up ahead. A petite woman. I knew I wanted to drink from her beautiful neck – the thirst was overwhelming. She held a parasol although it was night. Parasols were the fashion then – I gathered we were at least one hundred years in the past. Her hoop skirt trailed across the road floor, sadly following her dainty steps. Dirt stained it and it looked clear that she could not afford a new one. Still, despite all of that, she looked smart and buxom. Blond curls peeked out from underneath her little pinstriped hat. I walked faster to catch up with her. She whistled as she walked, a joyful tune. I hoped against hope that she could not hear my footsteps quickening and quickening. I was very, very hungry. Hungry for her. For her blood.

She walked up an outdoor staircase. I knew then that we, or Mason, were in New Orleans. Old New Orleans. It looked like a scene from the movies – a perfectly recreated period piece. I follow her up the stairs. I am ready to drink. She goes into a mysterious room and I almost don’t follow any further, scared of what may lay inside. From outside, I peer in, trying to take hold of the situation. I’m getting more comfortable with my new Vampire powers now and I linger on the balcony. There is a wooden chair here and I take a seat. I know I won’t be seen – she has no clue that she was followed, and she believes that all is safe as it should be. I watch her take her top off. Her pale breasts and pink nipples shine in the red light of the room. This is, I soon realize, the famous New Orleans red light district. I breathe deeply. I haven’t seen a woman like this, exposed like this, since my wife’s passing. She is very beautiful. Very fresh. Something in me drives me to stay quiet and simply watch.

She takes a supple breast and slips it into her mouth. She licks her own nipple. Now, out of the corner of the room, I see a man wearing a black coat in the corner. He claps for her as she takes her other breast and licks that nipple too. He comes to her now. He is older, must be in his 40’s at least. His hair is longer than the current fashion. He is handsome but there is something off about him. I worry for the girl although I myself intended to kill her and drink from her mere minutes before. He sweeps her off of her feet and plants her on the couch. There, he removes her hoop skirt and tiny black heels. Her hips are womanly and full under the skirt. Her thighs soft. She is a stunning woman. A rare find, even I must admit. The older man unbuttons his pants and removes the largest cock I have ever seen. Even the woman, clearly a lady of the night, is surprised by its overwhelming size. He wastes no time and slams it inside of her ready, juicy pussy. She is willing. She yelps from the size, a scream of pleasure erupting from deep in her throat. He goes slower now as he forces himself back and forth. Her large breasts bounce back and forth from the weight of his body against her. She moans. He moans. He fucks her even harder.

He takes his cock out and offers it to her to pleasure. She starts at his shaft and licks up and down and in circles. He moans and starts pushing himself in and out of her soft mouth, slowly at first. Then, faster and faster. Finally, he holds his wide cock in his firm hands and sprays his thick, white cum across the woman’s pale, perky breasts. It is quite a tableau to take in through a window.

I, or rather Mason, hurry away. I do not want to be caught peeping, now that their show is over. I know I’ll have my chance shortly. I wait by the streetlamp at the end of the street. The woman leaves soon after. I knew that she would. I am waiting for her. I am ready to take her pain away. Her suffering. The stranger sex. Everything.

I smile as she passes me. Her parasol is back out. She looks dainty and not at all like the experienced woman I had just seen. She smiles, with what I perceive to be a slight wink, and then turns back.

In a thick southern drawl, she says, It sure is a nice night to make new friends. I’m Greta. She offers me a porcelain white hand. I take it. I can feel the blood coursing through her body.

I lean in. I show her my money. She lets me get closer now. She smells like...life. Her vein is calling to me and I can’t resist. I take her then. I take my first kill. After she has slipped from life’s cruel jaws, I hold her body and stare. She looks so angelic and peaceful then. Maybe there is something to this Vampire thing, I think. Something noble, as strange as that sounds. Maybe I can help people find something better. Maybe I am fooling myself about my own thirst. Maybe...I am a monster.

After waking up from the dream about Mason, and trying to process all of the feelings it brought up, I pulled on my sneakers, headed outside and started running. I needed to clear my head in a big way. It was only 5:30 in the morning but I was wide-awake. I had my headphones plugged into my phone and ran to the sound of my favorite music. The sun was just beginning to peak out from the dark as I entered the gardens. I ran the entire length of the park and stopped briefly at the famous George Washington statue to tie my laces and catch my breath. This statue always fascinated me but I’d never got around to actually reading the inscription. I was always too busy jogging by, sticking to my route, and focusing on the run. Today, I decide to do something different. I went towards the front of the statue but instead of a simple plaque, a bright red pool of blood greeted me. Could this be real? The blood actually had a smell to it. Like iron or rust. I almost threw up. I took two steps back. I didn’t know whether to scream, run or faint. I stood frozen in my tracks. I’d never seen so much blood before in my life. What the hell was going on in Boston, anyway, and why was I always finding myself in the center of it?

A nearby bird making his early morning squawk brought me crashing back to the present. Was this human blood? Who did this? And whose blood was it? A thousand questions raced around my head. I took a moment to assess my surroundings and tried to concentrate. I was sure I was alone in the park – I always ran at this time of the morning and I had never seen another person out at this hour. I looked around again to confirm – nobody was there. Turning my gaze back to the pool in front of me, I saw a flash of light. It was something shining from the pool of red. What could that flicker be? Curiosity got the best of me and I walked closer to the blood for a more thorough inspection. It looked like a pearl necklace. Luckily, not all of it was emerged in the blood so I carefully took it out and placed it in a plastic bag fluttering around and shoved the bag in my pocket. I needed to find a police officer or someone to investigate the unexplained pool of blood. It was the size of a small bathroom sink; surely someone would care, and there had to be more to it. Where was the body?

I gathered my thoughts and ran towards the entrance of the park where I saw a police cruiser. I flagged it down and asked the bewildered officer inside to follow me in the park and I directed him to the statue. I was standing a few feet away as he inspected the area. He walked around the statue, making a complete circle. Then he stopped, scratched his head, and squinted in my direction.

What am I looking for again? he asked quizzically.

What? Don’t you see it? I called out.

See what? The statue? I ran to the spot where I had seen the blood and to my absolute shock there was nothing. It was gone.

But I ...

Look mam, it’s early, you may have just seen a shadow or something. I suggest you go home and get some rest.

I was dumb-founded. What was happening? I suddenly missed Mason again and wondered if this might have something to do with him.

I felt my pocket and the plastic bag was still in there. ‘Okay’, I thought, ‘so I’m not completely crazy’. However, I decided not to give the police officer another reason to think I was a total nutcase. I apologized and took his advice and went home. By the time I got back to my apartment, it was already past seven. Winter was there to greet me at the door. I picked her up and she purred at my neck, her whiskers tickling my face. I placed her down and headed to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping the hot water would help wash away my confusion and clear my head.

In the shower, I tried hard to take my mind away from what I had seen. I thought about the cop in his cruiser and...well, I’ve always had a thing for men in uniforms. Powerful men. Men who can control me (is it any wonder I’ve fallen in with an actual vampire?). As the water tried to wash my troubles away, I slipped my hand between my legs. I felt shaky from the run and what I had seen. Still, I couldn’t help but feel slightly turned on. I started touching my clit as I imagined a salacious daydream and let my thoughts run wild.

The cop is concerned for me and wants to help. He sees the blood too. Instead of dismissing me, he offers me a ride home in his big cruiser. He asks what I’m doing in Boston and I tell him about grad school.

He asks if I like it here. I look out the window and that’s when he slides a broad hand across my small thigh and starts stroking me like I’m a pet. His pet.

I understand it gets lonely, ma’am. He says. I like it that he calls me ‘ma’am’. I smile.

He puts on his lights and siren and brings me home fast. In my small apartment now, he undresses me, without saying a word. He rips my jogging shorts off and pulls my large tits from their cage-like sports bra. I feel the air rush my naked body and gasp with surprise; it feels good.

Smiling, he admires how I look. All that jogging has paid off. Then, he disrobes. He unbuttons his cop uniform, exposing a vintage looking undershirt. His muscles bulge beneath it. As he takes his pants and boxers off, I see that he has a huge cock to match his huge gun. He rests the gun on my dresser as he walks toward me. His cock stands at attention. I lick my lips. He holds handcuffs and I know what he plans to do with them. I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. With my hands behind me, he clinks the cuffs into a secure place against my skin. Now, I am bound but I like this feeling. I can hear him stroking his cock behind me. It sounds hot...like sex. He smells like musky cologne. I breathe him in. I am ready for whatever is going to happen.

First, he shoves his throbbing cock in my mouth and I suck like a lollipop. I am completely full of him and he tells me to take it deeper. He’s a police officer and he is used to being listened to, and I’m more than happy to oblige. Next, he takes his cock out of my mouth and teases me with it. He lightly slaps it against my face, demonstrating just how big and hard it is (in case I’d somehow forgotten). I am begging for it to be back in my mouth again...I want to gag on it. He tastes good. He tastes strong. He refuses to give in. He props up my legs now and spreads them.

Entering me from behind, I am surprised by how large he feels as he begins to fill me. He is gentle at first, which also surprises me. Then, he is hard. He starts to plow away at me, back and forth. My body pushes forward into the bed and back up again, over and over. He is oblivious to how I feel, though I feel nothing but pleasure. He says nothing but grunts. He is the strong and silent type. Finally, he takes his huge cock out of my wet pussy and presses it against my firm ass (thanks to all the running). Holding it there against me, I feel how big he is. He reaches down and fingers my clit, making me buck and squirm beneath him. I cum just as he does too; he sprays his white cum all across my back and ass until I feel drenched.

I come to from my daydream. I’m still in the shower. I am drenched, but with water. It was a pleasant few moments of diversion. But now I’m forced back. Back to reality and the only thing I can think of is the pool of blood and the necklace. The necklace! I remembered that I still had it with me. I finished up in the shower and took the plastic bag out of my jacket. I washed the blood off the necklace. I carefully inspected it. It was all pearls, just as I had thought. There was a marking on the clasp but it was too small for me to see. I put on my glasses and looked at it once more.

‘For 1 Waltham Street’

I recognized it immediately. It was an address and that was here in Boston, not too far from me. Waltham was a word I saw a lot since I’d moved to Massachusetts for school. I pulled on my clothes and headed to the kitchen to feed Winter and to make some breakfast for myself. I placed the necklace on the coffee table and took out a can of Friskies for Winter. Suddenly, I heard a screech from the living room. Winter. I ran in to find her shrieking, hair standing on edge, looking straight at the necklace. What was it about the necklace that was making her so uneasy? That was completely unlike her. I knew something wasn’t right. I definitely needed to go to Waltham Street. I couldn’t go to the police, at least not yet. Besides, they wouldn’t believe me. No way.

I took the necklace and hid it in my purse and after Winter had calmed down somewhat, I fed her breakfast and found myself something to eat as well. After the excitement of the morning, I didn’t have much of an appetite. All I could get down was yogurt. Whatever the deal was with the necklace, it had a negative effect on Winter and I did not like it at all. I couldn’t wait to be rid of it, or at least to figure out what it was or where it came from. At the same time, I knew it would be careless to just discard it and hope it didn’t mean anything. No, I resolved to try and figure out what I could after classes.

*****

It was dark by the time class let out and I could finally call a cab. I gave the driver the direction and settled back, completely unaware of what might be waiting at that address. When we finally came to a stop, I was jolted out of my wonderings. I was at a crossroad, literally. 1 Waltham Street was an intersection. I led Winter out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. I had brought her with mostly for moral support, but judging by the way she had reacted to the necklace earlier, I thought she might be useful to try and track down where or what it came from. On all four sides of us were huge buildings, with that classic Boston look I had grown to love; traditional, red brick walls, with an occasional splattering of green ivy. There was