by Claire Marta
“It’s Hungarian,” Eric brushed a hand caressingly over her cheek. “I have no wish to alarm you, but it means you are all going to die.”
Jasmine released a shallow breath. “Well that’s just fucking creepy, isn’t it?”
Had the spectre singled her out because she had been alone? If this was some kind of game, she didn’t like its sense of humour.
“The spirit is merely trying to frighten you. There is nothing it can do to physically hurt you unless you give it power over you,” Eric assured her calmly.
“Well, it’s working,” Jasmine admitted, still feeling unnerved.
There was something in his eyes that made her heart begin to thud anew. Any lingering fear quickly dissolved.
Leaning down, the vampire buried his face in her shoulder. Jasmine stiffened.
The brush of his warm lips pressed light kisses against her skin. Pleasure shot through her so fast she almost swooned.
Jasmine quivered in his arms. Her nostrils filled with his familiar scent of snow and pine. It sank into her senses heady and deep. The smell evoked memories of the last time they’d been together. It was so intense Jasmine could feel the ghostly imprint of his lips and touch from so many months passed.
Trembling, her knees went weak. How could he always do this to her? Just one touch was enough.
“Eric..no, stop it,” she pleaded. Raising her hands, she pressed them against his hard chest. Jasmine could sense the control holding his big body tall and taut, feel the hard muscles beneath his shirt.
Reluctantly, he drew back. “As you wish my lovely.” He couldn’t seem to hide the harsh desire etched on his face.
She needed to hang on to her anger. Eric had hurt her. Jasmine had to remember that. So was also with someone else, now. Even though it was a casual thing between her and Asier, she couldn’t sleep with someone else. It just wouldn’t feel right.
The softness of his touch was torture, though. Eric’s fingertips continued to feather up and down her spine. He couldn’t stop touching her.
His nostrils kept flaring. “Tell me Jasmine, have you been pleasuring yourself?” His voice was a husky murmur.
Jasmine stilled. Fuck. With his vampiric senses, he was going to be able to smell that. Mortified, she felt her cheeks begin to heat.
“I...erm.”
“There is no need to be embarrassed about such things.” The look in his gaze made her achingly hot. “Were you thinking of me when you touched yourself?”
“I think you should leave now,” Jasmine whispered. Why had she let him in? This was a huge mistake. She’d resolved not to be left alone with him, yet here they were in her bedroom.
“I have missed you so very, very much,” he replied, a wealth of tenderness in his voice. It actually sounded like he meant it.
“Eric...” How could he have the most captivating eyes she’d ever seen? Much more than Asier’s violet hypnotic gaze.
Eric’s drew her. Made her feel at home. As if she were meant to be right there in the safety of his arms.
“How am I going to tame you, Kitten?”
“You’re not,” Jasmine replied shakily.
“Jasmine…” Her name was said with yearning. His lips hesitated inches from her own. Jasmine felt herself automatically inching closer to them. She wanted to feel his kiss. Taste him. The click of the door opening didn’t register for either of them.
“Hey, Jazzy, I can’t believe the vamp turned up. Are you going to tell–” Gemma’s voice trailed off. For a moment she looked at them dumbfounded. Then her eyes narrowed– “what the fuck is he doing in here?”
Cheeks going cherry red, Jasmine pushed Eric away. What the hell had she just let almost happen? “He’s just leaving.”
The vampire’s arms slipped easily from around her waist. “Goodnight, Jasmine.” He gave a bow as he strolled with an arrogant confidence towards the door. “Gemma.”
“Jasmine, what the fuck is going on? What was he doing in here?” her friend asked, the second the door closed behind him.
Jasmine didn’t want to mention Asier in case Eric was still lurking, listening. With his sensitive hearing, he’d probably hear anything said. The press of his lips still lingered on her skin. It left her both frustrated and angry.
“The ghost whispered something down the phone to me, and he came to see if I was all right.”
“Shit.” Gemma’s face became tight with apprehension. “What did it say?”
Jasmine wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself tightly. It didn’t give much comfort to the chill of dread that raced up her spine. “That we’re all going to die…Eric said it can’t hurt us, though.”
“He’s right. It’s just trying to frighten you, probably because you’re the one most sensitive to it,” her co-worker reasoned.
“I guess…” Jasmine agreed, not hundred percent sure.
She had for a moment been soft and yielding is his arms. Like temptation itself, she’d tested his control. Eric smiled faintly to himself. Whoever she was fucking wouldn’t be doing so for much longer. He was certain of that. Jasmine’s desire for him would work against her. Her body knew who she really belonged to. Who it craved. It was just her mind that needed convincing.
His kitten was lucky that he was such a gentleman. It would’ve been easy enough to seduce her tonight. But taking her now would only lead to more complications. He desired to mend the harm he’d already done. Eric needed to restore the faith she’d once held in him.
Her body was already his. What he wanted was her mind and her heart. Only then would he be satisfied.
The sound of heavy footsteps thudded on the wooden boards of the floor.
Jasmine knew they were coming. They always did at night. In the light of day, she could almost pretend they weren’t real until the sunset and with it came the creeping horror. Shuffling back further into her corner, she felt the dry itchy straw brush her small arms. Maybe they wouldn’t find her this time. If she kept quiet.
The footsteps grew louder. They were accompanied with a dragging sound. Terror growing, she clutched her teddy bear to her chest. A long deep resonating moan broke the deathly silence. From the darkness of her shelter, Jasmine saw the shapes that lumbered towards her. Their faces were void of life. Yet, they were familiar. She knew for a fact their eyes had once sparkled with happiness. With another soulless moan, the creatures shuffled forwards.
Tightening into a ball, she tried to make herself invisible. Just the thought of their frozen touch made her feel sick. Why did they always come to her? Why couldn’t they leave her alone?
“There you are, Princess.” The sudden voice in the blackness was a growl. As a large hand clamped down on her shoulder, Jasmine began to scream. Breathes frantic, her lungs filled with the stench of death.
Jerking her head up, confusion hit her when the face above wasn’t one she’d seen a million times before. Not the same beast that watched her. No this was someone entirely new. Lips stretching in an unpleasant grin, the dark-skinned woman gave her a wink.
Jerking up in bed with a feeling of nausea, the nightmare was still fresh in Jasmine’s mind. It was one of many she kept having. This one just had new images she now had to process. Why she was having them, she still didn’t know. More and more though, she was sure they were linked to her childhood. Yet, this woman felt different.
Rubbing a hand over her sweat slick face, Jasmine tried to rationalise the dream. Everything had been mixed and muddled. The subconscious mind playing on fears and jumbling imagery that hid meanings. She was in a house of ghosts. Logically if she connected the dots, that’s where she’d come up with zombies. Twitch loved horror movies. They watched enough containing the undead to fill her brain with fanciful nightmares for years.
Memories of Eric’s intimate embrace the night before slipped insidiously into her thoughts. She kept bouncing between anger and humiliation. What the fuck did he want? Why was he here, and why was he toying with her, again? Hadn’t he hurt her
enough the last time?
She had secrets now. Ones she couldn’t let him know. The only two people who we’re aware of them were Twitch and Asier.
Protecting herself had evolved since then. These were things she couldn’t confide in the team. She was frightened she’d be seen as a liability if they knew she was addicted to a vampire’s bite. All courtesy of Eric and he didn’t even know that the reason she’d gone to the Master Vampire of London in the first place was to alleviate the pain that’d been twisting her up inside.
“You look rough. Bad night?” Gemma inquired as Jasmine rolled over and punched her pillow.
“Nightmares...and this fucking place...I feel like I’m being watched all the time, which I guess isn’t surprising with all the weird shit they have stashed downstairs,” Darting a look at the alarm clock, she realised it was nine am. The heat of the day was already building. Jasmine could feel it in the stifling room even with the windows open to the morning breeze.
“You’re still having them, the nightmares?”
“More now than ever,” she confirmed, watching as her friend rose from her own bed.
“Maybe you should mention that to Mark,” Gemma told her absently as she caught sight of herself in the mirror on the opposite wall. “Fucking humidity wrecks my hair,” she grumbled as she tugged at a handful of frizzy curls.
“No... I’m not going to bother him with this.” Slipping from her own single mattress, Jasmine searched through the clothes in her case. A loose t-shirt and jogging bottoms were just what she needed.
“Jasmine, you’re a sensitive. What if it’s something you’re picking up...like a premonition or something.”
Jasmine was pretty sure it wasn’t the future she was dreaming about. No. It was the past. Something to do with her parents. Memories buried deeply that were now churning to the surface. But what was real, and what was childish make-believe?
Twitch was still having no luck in locating her birth parents. They knew her mother had been in Edinburgh for a month when Jasmine had been a year old. Then after that, they’d both simple vanished. Nothing had popped up again until Jasmine had been abandoned at a hospital at the age of two. The events in between were unknown. Twitch was running search programmes and asking his contacts, yet every avenue turned up a dead end. It was becoming disheartening. It was almost as if her mother had gone into hiding. As if she didn’t want to be found. This just led to more questions. Jasmine was now even more desperate to know the answers.
Hugging the garments she’d picked to her chest, she padded towards the door. Sharing a bathroom with the rest of the household, it was going to be first come first served. Not that Jasmine would need hot water in this heat.
Gemma growled under her breath as she scowled down at the screen of her phone, which she had plucked from the bedside table.
Concerned, Jasmine paused. “What’s the matter?”
“Fucking Conall. He keeps messaging me,” her friend complained. Swiping a packet of unopened gum from the side table, she began to rip it open.
“I thought you said that was over months ago because he said you looked like his dead wife.” Hovering by the end of the bed, Jasmine observed her friend’s frantic movements. Whatever was going on, it had Gemma edgy.
“It was..it is...but he won’t stop texting me.” Holding up the device, she showed Jasmine what he had written. “I need a new number because he just won’t quit.”
Conall: We need to talk.
“Maybe you should see what he has to say.”
“No.” Something akin to fear flashed in Gemma’s eyes. It was an emotion Jasmine had rarely seen the huntress show. For once, she looked like a cornered animal. The hunted rather than the hunter.
Shifting on her bare feet, Jasmine frowned. “What’s going on Gemma?”
Tossing the phone on the bed, her friend sank back against the pillows. “Nothing.” Freeing a piece of gum, she slotted the pink square between her lips and began to chew.
It was obvious whatever was bothering her she didn’t want to talk about. Not yet. Not wanting to push her too far, Jasmine decided to change tack. When she was ready, Gemma would open up. There wasn’t much she kept to herself.
“I better get dressed and go see if the others are up yet.” Resuming her path to the bathroom outside, Jasmine halted by the door. “Fergus promised me a run this morning.”
“Have fun,” was her friend’s only reply.
From below, the tick of the clock collection in the living room on the ground floor filled the silence. Jasmine found it odd she could hear it so clearly. It was if the time pieces that still worked needed to be heard. Demanded it. Making her way along the landing, Jasmine headed for the stairs. She felt restless.
This was her first trip away from London since she had started seeing Asier, and her routine was broken. It was something she’d begun to rely on, something to keep her disciplined. With Eric now on their team, it was something she knew she’d need more than ever.
As Jasmine reached the top of the stairs, a small sound startled her. Tilting her head right, she discovered she was being watched. Further along the corridor, a door lay open. Peeking from the entrance, in a round little face, were a pair of big honey-brown eyes. Tawny, wavy locks framed the child’s features. Her bow shaped mouth was parted as she stared at Jasmine with distrust. She had to be no more than six years old.
Jasmine smiled. Raising her hand, she gave the girl a wave. Caroline’s daughter. It had to be. As far as she knew, there were no other children in the creepy place. She was the cutest thing Jasmine had ever seen.
Eyebrows scrunching together in a frown, the child seemed unsure how to respond. Continuing to stare, she pressed herself closer into the door frame.
Not wanting to frighten her, Jasmine began to descend the steps. Of course, the kid would be scared. They were strangers in her Grandfather’s house. No one had, yet, introduced them.
As she made it off the last step, Jasmine spied a flash of white. Swivelling sharply, she confronted the small skeleton that sat in the cramped alcove. Up on its haunches it was posed with jaws open wide, baring its teeth. Expertly done, you could barely see the tool marks left in the monkey’s gleaming bones.
Jasmine shuddered as she stared into the empty sockets of the skull. It was a ghastly thing. Something that reminded her of the old black and white horror movies she’d seen on tv. Shuffling on past it, she headed for the rear of the building.
The housekeeper, the evening before, had given them a quick tour so she knew the layout of the place. All the exhibits for the Musee Grotesque were sectioned off at the warehouse like front. Upstairs and at the back of the building was the place the staff and family inhabited.
Soft and low, the sound of voices murmuring drew her along.
Coming to a stop in the doorway, Jasmine couldn’t believe her eyes. Eric was standing by the stove. Frying pan in hand he was cooking merrily away. Wearing a smart tailored pair of black trousers, which defined the perfect shape of his arse, he stood at ease as he worked. The crisp white shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned to his waist. Pale chiselled abs and a slight hairy arrowing of black hair that vanished beneath the waistband of his trousers, he stood deliciously before her. Jasmine resisted the urge to bite her lip. She’d almost forgotten how sexy this vampire was.
Noticing her hovering in the doorway, Eric met her stare. Short tousled hair still damp from a shower, his gaze held a knowing light. “Good morning, Jasmine.”
“You’re still here…and you’re making pancakes.” Jasmine didn’t want to admit to herself that just seeing his powerful chest on display aroused her beyond belief. His maleness was a potent force, one she couldn’t forget no matter how hard she tried.
“The Housekeeper had to go to the market, and I thought rather than letting you all go hungry I could put my culinary skills to use,” he explained. With quick efficiency, he slipped another pancake onto a large plate already stacked high.
“These are reall
y good,” Fergus told her from where he sat at the table as he speared a huge piece onto his fork before stuffing it into his mouth. Wolfing the food down, he smacked his lips together in appreciation.
Jasmine blinked, noticing him for the first time. So engrossed in Eric she had missed her friend altogether. “I thought we were going for a run?”
Shoulders sagging, Fergus’s expression suddenly swam with a look of guilt. “Ah fuck. I forgot. I smelt the food and...”
“Followed your nose,” she finished for him with a disappointed sigh.
“Brat, you know I can’t resist when it’s this fantastic.” Motioning with his cutlery, he gestured at his breakfast.
“You promised me we could go running.” Jasmine pouted. It was something she needed. The regime Asier had set for her was something she tried to keep to. The Master Vampire of London liked his rules. Keeping herself in shape was one of them. It was something Jasmine wanted to. Getting stronger and faster was something she was attaining quickly, thanks to the Italian. She didn’t want to disappoint him by letting it slip.
“We can go tomorrow. Besides, you’re in the best shape I’ve ever seen you in. Your stamina in phenomenal.” Fergus gave her a little wink.
Eric stood quietly, listening to them. Jasmine eyed him suspiciously.
Had he done this on purpose? No. How could he have known about their plans for a run? It just had to be bad timing. Now the vampire was here, he was just trying to find a way to stay useful. Whatever his true motives, he wasn’t ready to reveal them yet. That was something Jasmine was certain of.
“Well, I’m not hungry,” she announced, flouncing down into a chair. Jasmine’s stomach took that moment to growl loudly. Glancing awkwardly away, she avoided the vampire’s stare.
“Just try a bite,” Eric encouraged. “Please.” Carefully, he pushed the pot of syrup towards her.
Begrudgingly, Jasmine picked it up and poured some over the contents of her plate. It did look good. Breakfast was a meal she had started to appreciate. Using her fork, she worked a chunk from the perfectly formed pancake. As she placed it in her mouth, she bit back a moan. How the hell did this vampire know how to cook so well when he didn’t even eat?
