Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: Please forgive my (I'm sure, numerous) mistakes, but I'm posting this unbeta'd. I normally wouldn't do so, but it's already a day later than I was hoping to post, and I am determined to post the finale tomorrow. I will replace it with a beta'd copy once I get it back from my wonderful, overworked beta. Thanks to Yogacat, Profitina and, most especially, RedVelvetHeaven for the pre-read. Red spent more than an hour of her time this morning going over last minute changes to this chapter. I can't thank her enough for all the time she so graciously spares for me.

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. Enjoy, and lemme know what y'all think.

La Casa Stregata

Chapter 2 – The Party

Every eye in the house is on Bella when she enters – the men's filled with lust, the women with jealousy, and Lauren, in her scandalously short, boob-revealing 'costume', with absolute rage and hostility. Bella has never felt comfortable with being the center of attention, but she surprisingly doesn't squirm or blush under the unsolicited scrutiny. Something commanding came over her when she walked through the door, giving her a subtle, but quiet confidence that she's never possessed before. She's still her, though, still the same Bella, she just holds her head a little higher, her shoulders are a little more square, and she feels an ease she's never known as she engages in casual conversation.

The awkward discomfort she would normally feel in such a situation doesn't seem to be overwhelming her. She isn't trying to get away from the crush of people by hiding in some hidden alcove or quiet corner until it's time to go home. In fact, she can't remember ever having enjoyed herself more at a party, even if she's just arrived. Truthfully, she can't remember ever having enjoyed attending a social gathering of any kind the way she seems to be enjoying this one so far. All of the apprehension and nervous misgivings that have been with her throughout the day are still there, lurking somewhere behind all of her newfound confidence, but with each glass of rum laced punch she consumes, they're buried a little bit deeper.

~∞Ѿ∞~

As she wanders throughout the party with Jessica, she takes in the turn of the century home – and not the last century, but the one before that – noting how remarkably well-kept it is for being more than one-hundred years old, especially considering its use as a fraternity house. She's following indolently behind Jessica, looking at the pictures of the current and past brothers on the wall, when she sees an engraved bronze plaque nestled between the photos and stops to read it.

MASEN HOUSE
Built in 1899 by Edward Masen
Loaned in 1989 to the Greek society
Sigma Alpha Epsilon

The name makes her pause. It's familiar somehow, but she can't for the life of her put her finger on how she knows it. The only Edwards she knows are characters in her favorite books, and she's certain she's never met anyone by the name of Masen, at least, not with that spelling. The boy with whom Jessica's been talking notices Bella's preoccupation and addresses her, pulling her attention away from the plaque.

"So, you ever hear the story about the Masens?"

"Hmm? Stories? No, I don't think so." Maybe that's why the name's so familiar? she thinks.

"I can't believe you've never heard this. Ben, you have to tell her!" Jessica demands, giggling.

"Okay, okay. So, Ed Masen, Senior, a prominent lawyer with his own law firm, had the house built after he married his wife Elizabeth. He worked closely with the architect on the design, which was actually quite odd at the time it was built…hell, it's still an odd design. He included features like hidden passageways for the staff so they could move quickly and quietly throughout the house, and the open floor plan you see down here so they could host large formal parties.

"Except for upgrades to the wiring, heating, lighting and some of the appliances, the house is exactly as it was back when it was built – even the original dumbwaiters still work," he adds.

"Ugh! Never ask an architect major to tell you a story about a house. Get on with it, you dope! You haven't even gotten to the actual story yet," Jessica accuses.

"Alright, alright, moving on," Ben guffaws in a dorky, but endearing way. "The Masens only had one child, a son named Edward Anthony Masen, Junior…"

Brown hair with glints of bronze throughout it and a strong jaw appears in Bella's mind. It's just a flash, barely long enough for her to register what the image even is, let alone make sense of it, and she brushes it off to focus back on the story that Ben is in the middle of telling for her benefit.

"…the whole family succumbed to the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918, but…the body of the son, Edward Junior, disappeared. By all accounts at the time, the boy was on his deathbed when the nurse left to wheel his mother's body down to the morgue, and when she finally made it back to his ward – he was gone. The hospital has no record of his discharge, and he was never issued a death certificate since his body never made it to the morgue. He just – up and vanished.

"The house sat vacant until it was donated to the college in 1989. Well, loaned really; it reverts back to the Masen Family Trust next fall. The trust has always been managed by one law firm or another – it changes ever decade or so – so maintenance has always been kept up on the property, but no one ever lived here until it was loaned to our fraternity. J. Jenks and Associates is the law office that's managed the property since we got use of the place – well, most of it. We can't use any of the east wing – we don't even have access to it, actually – and there are tons of rules about what we can and can't do on the premises and to the building.

"For instance, no holes can be put in the walls, no smoking inside, no painting, etcetera. Most of it's pretty standard stuff really, the only thing that was ever considered odd about it being loaned to the school was that the house had to be used to house our fraternity, and any other use would result in the contract being rescinded. I guess the Senior Eddie was president of the frat back in his college days…"

"You're taking too long with all of your unnecessary details that no one cares about," Jess interrupts. "I'll finish this tale, because Aesop, you are not. So…the house sat empty all these years, right?" Bella stays silent, knowing that it's rhetorical valley-girl speak, not a genuine question. "Well, there are stories of him – the younger Edward, that is – having been seen haunting the house…with blood red eyes just a few weeks after he disappeared from the hospital, but that's not the only time he was supposedly seen.

"Legend has it that sometime in the twenties or thirties, I forget which, he was seen repeatedly – same blood red eyes, and…he looked exactly the same as he did before he got sick except extremely pale…like a vampire."

The word causes a chill to run down Bella's spine, and something nags at the back of her mind, but she chalks it up to whatever it is that's been making her feel so off all day. She must be getting sick or something.

"So you're saying this house is rumored to be haunted by a turn of the century vamp?"

Jessica and Ben both nod emphatically, looking a little like bobbleheads. "That's the story, anyway," Ben confirms aloud.

"Let me guess," Bella starts, pausing to roll her eyes before continuing. "He comes back every Halloween and takes his vengeance out on people dressed as vampires…or maybe just the co-eds?"

Jess and Ben both look at each other, and then Jess answers, "No, actually. That was the extent of the legend."

"That's kind of a lame legend. I mean, no offence, but that's hardly scary. I thought haunted houses were supposed to have a more sinister story behind them. This guy sounds like a wuss-pire to me."

Looking a little offended by Bella slighting his story, Ben defensively informs her, "Back in the thirties, the same time he was allegedly spotted here, there were a series of unexplainable deaths in the city. They appeared to be unrelated except for the cause of death. All the victims that had what appeared to be a vicious bite wound to their throats, and were all exsanguinated, but there was never any sign of blood at the crime scene…not a drop. There was also no evidence that they'd been moved after death. With no evidence or suspects, the police were at a loss, but seeing as how all the victims were low-life criminals, they didn't really pursue the cases."

"Wow, it's a noble vampire haunting the place? Is he cute or does he have a brother…preferably a much younger one?" Bella jokes, causing Ben to look a little put out, which leads Bella to believe that he is trying to impress her.

Feeling a bit guilty because he seems like pretty decent guy – a bit of a dork, but genuinely nice and non-douchey – she's just about to apologize when Jess blurts out, "Actually, yeah – he was pretty hot."

"What? How do you know? Have you seen him, Jess, and were you drunk or high at the time, because, if so, it doesn't count?" she can't help teasing her friend.

Jess rolls her eyes again, but she's nearly buzzing with restrained excitement, causing the gesture to lose effect. "No, asshole. There's a picture of him in the office by the front door – the whole family actually, but there's one of just him on the wall, too. Wanna see it?"

"Okay," she agrees, because she knows Jess will drag her there regardless.

"Yay!" Jess squeals, clapping her hands and jumping up and down before grabbing Bella's wrist and – sure enough – dragging her along to the office next to the front entrance.

~∞Ѿ∞~

Not wanting to draw any attention, Jess leaves the lights off when they step inside the office, waiting until the door is fully closed behind them to look for the lights since no one is supposed to be in there. As she fumbles, searching for the light switch, the hair on the back of Bella's neck stands on end, and her skin crawls with that same peculiar feeling of being watched. Standing in the dark while Jessica keeps searching for the light, Bella presses her back up against the door, her hand moving to the knob behind her as a surge of fear jolts through her nearly paralyzing her. She finds herself silently urging Jessica to hurry the fuck up and find the Goddamn light, and when she finally finds the damn thing, Bella's so grateful she could almost kiss her.

"Got it!" Jess announces just before she flips the switch and the lights flicker on, the brightness so glaring that it renders both girls temporarily blind. Still blinking furiously, Bella raises her head and gasps, her hand flying to clutch at her chest over her thundering heart.

"What is it, Bella?" Jess asks, grasping Bella's arm and causing her to turn her head toward her. Her vision finally clears, and she quickly looks away from Jess and back across the room…at nothing. She's not sure if she's relieved or disappointed by it…or if there really was nothing there. She was so certain…

Scanning the rest of the room before she replies, she finally answers, "Uh, nothing…I guess. I thought I saw someone…or something, but I must have just been seeing things."

Jessica doesn't notice the disbelief lacing Bella's tone. Instead, she pulls her along to the wall on their left, and scans through the assorted historical photographs hanging there, but where the pictures of Edward Anthony Masen, Junior should be…there is nothing, only gaping holes where the frames are supposed to be In fact, all the photos of the Masen family seem to be missing except one: a small and blurry print of the elder Edward and his wife Elizabeth.

"I don't understand! I was just in here earlier today, and none of the photos were missing then. What could have happened to them? They better turn up, or the there's going to be hell to pay with the lawyers office. The photos are the property of the trust and…" Jessica continued to ramble on, but Bella is too caught up with staring intently at the old and poor quality photograph of the Masens, trying to ascertain what it is about the man in the photo that seems so familiar to her, and isn't listening.

"Bella…Bella, are you even listening?" Jess inquires in an annoyed tone as she painfully nudges Bella's arm with her elbow, effectively snapping her out of her daze.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, it's really cold in here. Are you ready to go back out to the party?"

"Oh…um, yeah. Let's go," she agrees, noticing the cold for the first time and shivering.

~∞Ѿ∞~

She follows behind Jessica as they slip out of the room – shutting the lights off before opening the door, of course. As they rejoin the party, they're almost immediately stopped by someone wanting to chat with Jess. Since she's not really being included in the conversation, Bella uses the opportunity to discreetly look around the immediate area, checking to see if anyone noticed them sneak out of the office. Just when she thinks that they're in the clear, she meets a set of eyes attached to a tall guy who's leaning against the wall on the other side of the room with a drink in his hand. He's checking her out, not even bothering to conceal the fact that he's doing so, so she looks him over just as blatantly.

She's doesn't think she's seen him before because she's certain she would remember him, if only for his hair. Sandy blonde, chin-length, and wavy, it reminds her of a style a surfer would sport and, considering they're distance from the ocean, it's not exactly a common look. Tilting her head and pursing her lips a bit as she checks him out, she decides that he's attractive – unnaturally so – but there's something about him that's off-putting. However, in a manner she's starting to consider par for the course, what exactly is bothersome eludes her.

Maybe it's the way he's staring at her, his dark, hooded eyes alternating between roaming unabashedly over her body, and peering intently at her face as if it holds the answer to some question he has. Though it's admittedly making her want to squirm like a fish on a hook, she is almost positive that that's not it. When his eyes finally settle, locked on hers, she feels as if he sees right through to the quick of her and knows all of the things she's trying to hide. Maybe that's what's so unsettling? Uncomfortable, she breaks the connection, and is happy that, at nearly the same time, Jessica's conversation ends.

Bella hooks her arm with Jessica's, and leans into her conspiratorially. "Who's that guy over there, leaning against the wall? The blonde, surfer-looking one?" she asks with a subtle nod in his direction.

Jessica doesn't know the first thing about tact or discretion, so naturally, she snaps her head his direction, blatantly ogling him, and then, maintaining eye contact and with a small smirk on her face, answers, "Oh, him? That yummy piece of ass is Jasper Whitlock. He's new, transferred late from some school over on the west coast with another guy. Emmett McCarty I think.

"I don't really know much about either of them, because they're not exactly the most social brothers in the house, but they're definitely the hottest. Unfortunately they both have girlfriends…"

"And you have a boyfriend-almost-fiancé of your own. Down, kitty," Bella chirps.

"AND I have a boyfriend, which I was just about to say before you so rudely interrupted me," Jess states exaggeratedly. "So even if I was interested – which I'm not because of the aforementioned boyfriend-almost-fiancé, whom I very much love – they're already taken."

Bella laughs at her, and affectionately teases, "Scandalous whore."

"You know it. Now let's go see about refreshing our drinks, and finding you a man."

"Oh, no! Don't even think about it, Jess. Why don't we just try and find your man after we top off our drinks. I thought you said he was supposed to be here by now?"

"Fine, whatever, ya' prude. Come on." With that, she allows Jess to tow her off in the direction of the bar on the far side of the room. Bella feels his eyes – Jasper Whitlock's eyes – boring into her the entire way. Right before she disappears from his sight, she turns her head to see if he really is still staring at her or if she's simply thinking too much of herself and, sure enough, he is. Rather than flushing at the attention as she expects, she just feels confused.

~∞Ѿ∞~

It's not long after they make it to the bar and refill their drinks that Bella loses sight of Jessica somewhere amidst the fracas of the now in full-swing party. Deciding to get another glass of punch, she casually scans the overcrowded room for Jessica's curly head, stopping to mingle with the occasional familiar face as she makes her way back to the bar. It's the best place to wait for her because, knowing her friend well, she knows Jessica will eventually make her way back there…sooner rather than later.

Winding sinuously through the crowded room, an icy finger of fear slides inexplicably down her spine and that now familiar feeling that someone's watching her – I always feel like somebody's watching me, she hums with a nervous chuckle – prickles the back of her neck. Unable to take it any longer, she whirls around, searching the room for the source of her discomfort – who it could be, she hasn't a clue, other than she knows for certain it's not Jasper Whitlock – but doesn't notice anyone paying an inordinate amount of attention to her.

Paranoia! Paranoia! Everybody's coming to get me! Bella sings under her breath as she grabs another glass of punch, and leans against the bar, searching the crowd for Jessica. No longer having fun, she feels…off, and suddenly wants to leave, but of course she can't.

She's just about finished with her...umpteenth glass of punch and idly talking with one of guys that lives there, when she thinks she sees a flash of dark, messy hair with a hint of bronze to it. No, he's not real, she thinks, but she doesn't know whom 'he' is. All she really knows is that the head of hair she thinks she saw is oddly familiar, and leaves her with a plethora of conflicting emotions. She drains her punch and, wanting to drown out her rising paranoia and newly developed (and increasing in frequency) delusions, helps herself to another cup, chugs it down, and helps herself to yet another.

Hoping against hope that she's succeeded at her task – mostly because she doesn't think she can drink anymore without up-chucking, and also because she's fresh out of ideas for curing herself of her delusions if rum doesn't do the trick– she turns back around, and…whatever it was she thought she saw is gone. She's still smiling over not being crazy when she's taunted again by the glint of bronzed-brown, and she realizes she spoke to soon. Punch-brave and compelled to investigate, she tops off her cup and distractedly excuses herself from the conversation she's been having with Aaron.

"Hey, I've got to run – I think I just spotted my friend that I lost – but it was really nice talking to you, Aaron."

"Eric," he says.

"Huh?"

"My name…it's Eric," he says slowly, aware without Bella having to tell him, that she's not playing with a full deck. Clearly, since she's now imagining a head of hair that may or may not be real…and how can it be when it's not even a real hair color?

"Sorry, about that…Eric," she apologizes, embarrassed. "I'm gonna…go," she says, the words trickling out. He starts to say something, but she's already walking away and doesn't hear him.

Bella trails after her most-likely-but-possibly-not-a-delusion, dodging and weaving through the sea of bodies now filling the house, brushing off the people that call to her with claims of, "I'm trying to find Jessica." No matter how quickly she moves through the crowd, he always stays just out of reach, never allowing her to see more than a glimpse of his hair, and once, the tail-end of his cape as he disappeared around a corner. Almost losing him as he leaves the main room heading toward the hall near the stairs, she stops and anxiously twirls in a circle, bouncing on her toes as she tries to peer over the tops of the heads surrounding her, but it's to no avail.

Surrounded on all sides by a disorienting array of costumed partygoers who seem to loom over her in a way that's beginning to make her feel trapped, her chest constricts. She whirls around again, only this time, instead of looking for the head of hair that she's been tracking, she searches for a way through the crush of bodies pressing in on her. Spinning round and round, she can't seem to find an opening to squeeze through. A feeling of claustrophobia seizes her, and she rudely shoves her way through the wall of bodies before it has a chance to set in, ignoring the complaints and protests directed at her.

Emerging from the wall of people, she pauses to collect herself, taking a deep breath of air now that it's readily available again, and a scent hits her nose. It's all cinnamon and cold like Christmas, and she intrinsically knows that it's his scent. Not questioning it, she just reacts and, turning the direction it seems to be coming from, she spots him, the mystery man with the hair, as he ascends the stairs, disappearing around the corner when he reaches the top. She rushes forward, attempting to follow, but a hand wraps around her forearm, jerking her to a halt, and she loses him.

Aggravated, she turns, unsuccessfully attempting to jerk her arm free, and faces the person gripping her arm. "Tyler," she virtually snarls with more than just a hint of the distaste and disdain she harbors for him lacing his name.

"Isabella," Tyler replies, his lips curling up in a lascivious grin that she finds faintly sickening.

His use of her full name doesn't slip past her, but she's too focused on resuming her stalking of the mysterious, faceless stranger for it to get to her like it normally would.

"Can I help you with something, or were you just randomly accosting women as they walk by? I was kind of on my way somewhere." Her voice drips with annoyance, but she doesn't care; guys like Tyler James don't understand subtle brush-offs or polite dismissals…if they did, he wouldn't have bothered to stop her.

"Oh, I can think of plenty of things you can…help me with, Isa-bella," he intones suggestively, and the way he draws out her name breaks her focus on her interrupted task, conjuring up memories of things she would rather forget.

Recoiling, she replies rudely, "For the last time… I'm. Not. Interested, Tyler. How many times do I have to tell you that before you get it through your thick, Neanderthal skull? Let go of my arm and go find your girlfriend."

She tries again to pull her arm away, but his grip tightens painfully, and he shoves her roughly against the wall, causing the drink in her other hand to fall to the floor. Leering at her, his body blocks hers from sight, and she tries not to panic. She's in a room full of people, it's not as if he can do really do anything to her…she thinks…hopes.

"You don't have to act like such a bitch. You walk around here, thinking you're so fucking special, so much better than everyone else, but you're not. I think your problem is that you just need to be fucked hard, and I'm just the man for the job." He places her hand on his pants, over his hard dick. "Well, don't just hold it there, honey…do something with it! Make me feel good, and maybe I'll give you what you need. Make me feel good enough and I might even do the same for you."

Frozen in shock, she can't move, which only succeeds in pissing Tyler off even more. He tightens his hold on her wrist, constricting around the joint almost painfully, and moves her hand firmly over his cloth covered erection, growling, "I said now, bitch!"

Following instructions, Bella wraps her hand around his package…and squeezes. "I said, let go of me, Tyler." Her shaky voice lacks conviction, but her hand is firm and steady.

He cries out as his body tries to curl itself around the pain in his groin, and his hand locks around her wrist with enough pressure to nearly drop her to her knees, forcing her to release her grip on his now flaccid dick. The moment the family jewels are safe from danger, he slams her forcefully against the wall and raises his hand, screeching in a very non-masculine manner, "You fucking bitch! I swear you're going to regret that!"

She's trying to remember everything her father ever taught her about self-defense, but when Tyler slammed her into the wall, she hit her head hard enough to stun her and her mind keeps coming up empty. However, before he can strike her, Tyler is yanked away from her.

"I don't believe the little lady is interested, Tyler," drawls a melodic voice with just the slightest twang to it.

"Fuck, Whitty! I was just talking to the girl."

"Why don't you go talk to your girl, and leave this girl alone. I don't think she's interested."

Still a little stunned, she misses much of the confrontation, so she isn't certain to what she should attribute Tyler's chalky, fearful face as he quickly backs away mumbling, "Right, man. Right, whatever you say."

~∞Ѿ∞~

Whitty, also known as Jasper Whitlock, approaches her, hands held up in surrender, trying not to frighten her. He stops a few feet away, careful to leave plenty of space between them so she doesn't feel trapped. "You okay there, Isabella?"

"Bella." He looks at her quizzically. "Just Bella, not the other. Bella Swan," she adds self-consciously as she reaches her hand out to shake his. He takes hers hesitantly, holding it so softly that he barely touches her and releases it just as quickly. Cold, and hard, she thinks in the brief moment that his flesh touches hers. A memory stirs in the back of her mind, struggling to materialize, but his smooth voice blows the hazy image away.

"Okay, then – Bella," he acquiesces, trying it out. "He didn't rough you up too much did he?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Just a little shaken up, that's all." Her hand drops to her side, hitting her thigh and she winces.

"Don't look like you're fine," he observes casually as they both look down and see the mottled bruises already forming on her wrist.

Bella's face twists into a grimace at the sight of the blue and purple and red winding around her wrist like a macabre bracelet, but nothing can be done about it now. Besides, it doesn't really hurt…much. As long as she doesn't touch it – she turns her arm over, managing to mostly hide her wince this time – or move it at all; she'll be fine.

"I bruise easily, that's all. It looks much worse than it is. A little ice and I'll be right as rain."

"Okay, if you say so. Well, let me know if he gives you any more trouble tonight. I've been looking for an excuse to rough him up a little." He smiles at her quirkily, only raising one corner of his mouth, and the gesture is vaguely familiar, but once again, she can't explain how or why. It's really starting to annoy her – all of the little déjà vu-like moments – they're making her wonder if she really isn't going a bit batty.

"Will do...um, I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name," she lies, but it's only a partial lie; she really hadn't gotten it…from him.

He smirks at her, letting her know he's on to her, but he plays along anyway. "Oh, sorry about that. Jasper Whitlock, at your service, Miss Bella," he says with a slight bow, the antiquity of the gesture making her smile.

"Thank you again, Jasper Whitlock." A movement on the landing at the top of the stairs catches her eye, and she turns her head to see Jessica disappearing down the hall.

"Oh, I've got to go."

Jasper follows her gaze, and asks, "In that much of a hurry to see the haunted house, are you?"

"Huh?"

"We decorated the upstairs like a haunted house…you didn't know about it?"

She shakes her head.

"Yeah, I guess they do it every year. I just transferred from Washington state, so it's my first Halloween here. Apparently, it's pretty scary, but based on what I saw of it while we were setting it up, I don't know about that. Then again, it's takes a lot to scare me. I'm just not that afraid of things that go bump in the night," he informs her conversationally, but there's something menacing there, too, and it makes her eager to flee his presence. "You look pretty eager to get going. Don't let me stop you. Enjoy the haunted house, and let me know how it is."

"Right. I'll do that." The skirt of her dress already gathered in her good hand, she starts toward the stairs, but remembers her manners. Stopping, she turns back to Jasper and offers, "Thanks again, Jasper."

He says nothing, simply acknowledges her with a nod in such a way that it makes Bella think he'd be tipping his hat to her if he were wearing one. Turning again, she finally ascends the stairs in search of Jessica, so focused on finding her, and hopefully getting the hell out of Dodge before anything else can go awry, that she's completely forgotten her original reason for wanting to go upstairs in the first place.

~∞Ѿ∞~

Notes:
1. …I always feel like somebody's watching me... Somebody's Watching Me by Rockwell
2. … Paranoia! Paranoia! Everybody's coming to get me! Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger