Blood Moon Rising

by Claire Marta

  An icy chill enfolded them. It was like the museum itself was aware around them. Being haunted in a way Jasmine reasoned it was. How many souls were here? The walls seem to expand and shrink as if the place were breathing with what lurked invisibly inside.

  Jasmine was drawn inexplicably towards the door. A white haze had formed. It moved in unusual swirls, hovering. It looked dense, yet she could see the floor through the vaporous mass. With a mind of its own, it drifted with purpose along the floor.

  “It seems the spirits wish to make their presence felt once again. This place is far more active than I imagined, especially for the middle of the day. From what I have read, such things are stronger at night. You see something?”

  Jasmine rose to her feet slowly on quaking legs and nodded at the Eric’s question. “Some kind of mist.”

  Observing it with caution, she watched as it made a path along the wall.

  Attention snapping in the direction, Eric rose to join her. “What is it doing, precisely?” he asked as he straightened to his full height.

  “At the moment, it’s making its way around the room.”

  The temperature was continuing to drop rapidly. Breathing out, their breathes appeared in puffs of white. Although it mimicked Eric’s powers of cold, there was an edge to it that was not of this world. Something that sank into your soul, dark and disturbing. An unnaturalness that lacked any warmth of life. An abnormal stillness.

  “Do you think you can communicate with it?” Positioning himself slightly in front of her protectively, the vampire’s broad chest partially blocked her view.

  “I’m not a medium, Eric...I’ve never done something like that before. I wouldn’t know where to start, and the last thing I want is to be possessed.” Shoving him roughly aside, Jasmine discovered the mist was making a slow creep up the corner of a display.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel a presence probing her thoughts. It wasn’t as insidious as what she had experienced earlier with Mark. Whatever this was, it was warier, As if it was just as fearful of her as she was of it. Fascinated, she gingerly stepped around Eric. No, there was no malice or evil intent. This was a different entity altogether. How Jasmine knew she wasn’t completely sure, but she trusted her instincts. It meant no harm.

  “They are trapped. Bodiless. Lost. Without the simple pleasure of touch. It is an existence no sentient being who has lived would ever relish. I can only imagine their misery–” Eric continued, his deep voice becoming soft– “unable to cross over.”

  “I think they want to show us something.” Concentrating on the presence, Jasmine felt a cool detachment return. She had to maintain her professionalism. Losing herself to fear wouldn’t get them anywhere. It was something Asier had taught her well.

  “Are they speaking to you now?”

  With a little grunt, she shook her head. “No, it’s just a feeling.”

  The mist was now stationary. Even the swirling, which made up it’s centre, had ceased as if it was waiting to see what they would do next.

  Pacing cautiously forwards, Jasmine peered into the case it chose. Behind the protective glass and nestled on a bed of black satin lay an open wooden box. It was old. Medieval. A sturdy wooden pallet matched three hand-carved wooden stakes. Their points were blunt from age, but there was still no mistaking the dark patch that stained the ends. Blood. Garlic had been ringed around the vampire hunter’s kit. Jasmine’s gaze fixed on the delicate bottle, empty now from decades past. She knew it had probably once carried holy water. The ghost’s choice disturbed her. Was it deliberate because of Eric? Another means to try and frighten them? Or did it have a darker motive.

  As the spectral haze began to dissipate, the heat in the room began to rise.

  Jasmine became aware of Eric at her side. Looking up, she realised he was staring intently at what she’d been examining. A hardness had carved itself into the plains of his features.

  “Is that real?”

  The vampire’s lips pressed together, tightening into a thin white line. “Indeed it is, and the coffin a few rows down is also lined with silver.”

  Jasmine’s gaze darted along. Expertly carved, the metal coffin had been built big enough to hold an adult. Crosses had been chiselled all over the surface. She had no doubts once a vampire was trapped within its sturdy, impenetrable confines there would be no getting out.

  How many vampires had died at the hands of the hunter who’d owned it she wondered? It had to make Eric feel uncomfortable. It was a brutal reminder that even immortals could die. They weren’t invincible.

  Reaching out, Jasmine ran the tips of her fingers along the edges of the square box.

  “What are you doing?”

  Pressing firmly, she continued her exploration. “There has to be something more to this. Why go to all the trouble to show us?”

  Just as she finished speaking, she came in contact with something rough. It felt differently from the rest of the wall about half way down. Stooping, she scraped her nail over the bump she’d discovered beneath the black wallpaper. The surface felt raised. It could have been easily overlooked in the dimness of the room. Gaining confidence, she scratched at it, peeling back a chunk of the paper with barely any effort.

  “A keyhole!” Eric remarked in surprise.

  Jasmine grinned smugly. Catching him off guard was something she knew was rare.

  “I might be able to get it open.” Descending to her knees, she ran the pad of her index finger over the hole. It was familiar to what she’d trained with. Reaching for the metal bracelet on her wrist, she twisted one of the hoops and drew it free. Holding the pick lock between two fingers, she leaned in towards the door.

  Even with Eric behind her, she still felt his presence. She settled into her task, trying to ignore him. It was always awkward, and all her concentration would be needed. The stifling summer heat was once more penetrating the building.

  Jasmine felt a droplet of sweat crawl it’s way from her hairline down her face, to slide irritatingly down her neck. Using the back of her hand, she wiped the dampness away. “This place needs air conditioning. I don’t know how they can stand it,” she complained. “With no windows, it makes it even worse.”

  A blast of deliciously cooler air abruptly engulfed Jasmine. Dancing over her hot skin, it was a welcome treat. She signed in relief and gave the vampire a grateful smile. He may be a bastard, but his icy abilities did come in useful.

  “Better?” Eric enquired from where he stood.

  “Much. At least I’ve found a use for you now.”

  “And when precisely did you learn to pick locks?” His usual haughty arrogance was back in full force.

  For half a second, she faulted at what she was doing. “About a month ago, it comes in handy when I lock myself out.”

  She wasn’t about to tell him it was Asier who’d taught her. It was one skill the olive-skinned Italian had insisted she learn.

  “What other talents have you been acquiring since I saw you last? I am intrigued.”

  Jasmine paused for a fraction of a second. The coolness of Eric’s tone hadn’t gone unnoticed. Feeling suddenly ill at ease, she continued to work.

  “Stuff,” she mumbled as the lock sprung open. Jasmine made a small sound of triumph when the wall shifted. For once, it had been a piece of cake. Rising to her feet, she grimaced as cramp streaked through her legs. Straightening, she slid the length of metal back into her bracelet.

  Glancing up, she found Eric’s eyes gleaming slits of blue. “Interesting piece of jewellery you have there.”

  “It was a gift from a…friend.” Trying to act casually, she lowered her arm to her side to hide it. It was true. Asier had given it to her when he’d been pleased with her progress.

  Normally, she didn’t accept his presents. This one, though, had been different. Even she could see its usefulness. The Master Vampire had been delighted at her acceptance of it.

  “Shall we get this open, then?” Jasmine asked, draggi
ng her straying thoughts from her lover.

  Taking her elbow, Eric gently but firmly drew her aside. “Perhaps I should do it just in case there are any hidden traps. I would not like to see you get hurt.”

  It made sense. Whatever was inside had deliberately been concealed for reasons unknown. Whoever’d done such a great job could have left unexpected surprises in case of intruders.

  “Fine, you open it, then.”

  Head tipped to the side, the vampire studied the gap that had been made. With no handle, the only solution to open it would be to grip onto what they had. Clasping the top, Eric began to pry it open. His movements were slow, sure, and efficient.

  Jasmine knew he was being careful. With his heightened senses, he’d easily detect something out of place before she could.

  “Hmm…a hidden room.” He informed her as he took a moment to peep into the widening crack.

  Craning her neck, Jasmine looked around his shoulder. A thick, silent darkness greeted her vision. If it was a room, then the vampire’s vampiric eyesight was seeing far more than she could. Jasmine felt a twinge of jealously. It was times like these she wished she had more impressive abilities.

  With a grunt, Eric pushed the door further open. Now, they had enough room to get inside. Jasmine hurried forwards without waiting. Any traps would’ve been already set off so it had to be safe. As she cleared the entrance, she found Eric squished up against her. The firmness of his hard, lean body pressed into the softness of her own. Startled, she raised her chin in challenge. “I really need to squeeze by.”

  “Must you?” Eric’s expression had become predatory in the shadows and the dusky light cast from the displays from where they had started. “You have no idea how tempting you look right now. I enjoy having you trapped against a wall. It allows me to feel every inch of your luscious body.”

  “Eric...” Jasmine whispered, but he continued in his hypnotic voice.

  “Have you missed my touch, Kitten? I could make you purr right here, right now. Would you like that?” His hands slid up her silky shoulders, tilting her entranced body towards his in the process. “I know what you want; I know where you like to be touched and how...I know everything about how to please you.”

  His eyes. The recognition of lust was instant and overwhelming. An insolent sexuality laced his smile.

  A hot flush seared through Jasmine’s body as she stared into his face unable to look away. No. She couldn’t let this happen. This would only be a mistake.

  His lips met hers before she could react. It drained her of the defensive words she was about to say, the anger and her fear. The pressure of his mouth became heated and demanding. Jasmine felt her head begin to spin. Wild, hot pangs of longing flared inside her.

  As his fingers wound into her hair pulling her head back, Jasmine’s spine arched against the hand that held her hips against his arousal. He nipped at her lips playfully, breaking the kiss. “I want to please you in so many ways, my lovely. I want you wet and welcoming beneath me. I want you mindless with what I can do to you so much so that you repeat my name over and over like a prayer when I am done sexually fulfilling you in every way imaginable. Do you know how long I have ached for you? How I have fantasied about burying my cock so deeply inside you, again, that neither of us will think straight?”

  With a quick gentle tug, he rucked up the hem of her short cotton dress. Jasmine made a tiny mewl of bewilderment. His silken words had wrapped themselves around her, binding them together with such an erotic force she had no way to save herself.

  Eric’s hand slipped beneath the flimsy covering of her lacy panties. She gasped as his fingers found their objective. Caressing her damp slit, he found her eager, waiting clit.

  Jasmine’s eyes drifted closed. How could he always find her weakness? His touch bewitched her.

  “I want to feel you come against my hand,” he commanded her with a cool calm tone.

  A part of Jasmine’s brain registered how still in control he was. How he was seducing her with a calculated ease. But it was a fleeting thought.

  Eric drank her gasps and moans hungrily into his mouth. Plunging his tongue between her lips, he tasted her every cry.

  His fingers continued to thrust and tease mercilessly, while his thumb worked her nub. Jasmine’s hips bucked against his hand. She was soon matching the rhythm of its movement. As he found her sweet spot, it tipped her over.

  With a choked sob, she orgasmed, her wetness coating his fingers. Legs sagging, she found herself cradled against the hardness between his thighs.

  Eyes tightly closed, Jasmine tried to catch her breath. Damn him for always overwhelming her. She never stood a chance.

  Gently, Eric withdrew his hand. The sudden loss of contact made her shudder.

  Opening her eyes, Jasmine glare at him. He’d had no right to do that. No right to touch her in that way. How dare he make her fall apart. Make her ache for him the way she had for months even with Asier’s distractions.

  With a wicked smile, Eric raised the hand he had pleasured her with and sucked the fingers into his mouth. A deep hum of pleasure left him as he savoured her flavour. The look on his face made Jasmine’s heart speed up.

  Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze away.

  “I am enjoying chasing you Jasmine and driving myself mad in the process. You have no idea how badly I want you, right now.”

  She wanted him to. But that was crazy and something that couldn’t happen again. It’d be emotional suicide.

  “Back off, Eric. You don’t have any right to touch me like that,” she raged. “I’m not some toy you can amuse yourself with.”

  “Kitten, you need to stop fighting me,” he told her as his expression turned tender.

  “No, you need to fuck off,” Jasmine heatedly shouted back.

  Blood was still rushing hotly into Eric’s loin. The urge to take her against the wall stormed through him, but he pushed it down. A quick fuck was not what he was after. He wanted to be the only one who enjoyed her orgasms. The only one who showed her the true meaning of pleasure and all it’s delights. Patience had never been something he’d lacked, until Jasmine.

  Intently, he examined her lovely face. Her skin was flushed. Lips still parted and swollen from his kisses. Jasmine might deny it, but she wasn’t unaffected. Those walls she built would soon be coming tumbling down. If she were in love with Asier, he was more than certain she wouldn’t have reacted to him in such a way.

  Throwing him another hostile glare, she pushed at his chest.

  Eric backed up, allowing her to pass. He could bide his time. Her defences were already crumbing. Soon, Asier would be but a memory. The Italian might be a Master lover, but he wasn’t the only one who knew some tricks to get what he wanted.

  Jasmine slunk quickly past Eric into the pitch-black passage. She couldn’t believe what she’d allowed him to get away with. Anger coursed through her, more towards herself than the vamp. She was an idiot. Now more than ever, she had to keep on guard around him.

  “There is a light switch to your right, if you feel along the wall,” Eric commented helpfully from behind.

  “I don’t need you here, Eric, or your help.” Jasmine seethed, letting her temper slip. She hadn’t missed the hard, hungry desire that’d swept across his face. Being at his mercy, again, was something she hadn’t been prepared for, not what she wanted. How was she supposed to fight the attraction between them? It always worked against her. All he was after was sex. She was shaking all over, a burning ache inside her that wouldn’t stop from his seduction moments before. “Me and the team can handle things without your interference, so why don’t you do us all a favour and just leave? Disappearing, that’s something your good at, isn’t it?”

  “You forget you need a translator.”

  Growling under her breath, she reached out until she felt the safe reassurance of the wall. Walking her fingers up the surface, she soon found the switch. Light from a stark bulb above flooded the room, making her blink rapidl
y. She took a second to let her eyes adjust.

  “Look at all these books,” she whispered in awe.

  Lining the walls of the rectangle shaped room were thick wooden book cases. A thin layer of dust had made its home over the neglected covers and surfaces. Further down was a worn desk and chair. The air was musty as if the place hadn’t been used in years.

  “I would rather not. Perhaps you can examine some,” Eric called.

  “If this is making you uncomfortable, you can wait outside,” Jasmine replied as her anger abated. She’d almost forgotten his fear of enclosed spaces. The only weakness she knew he had.

  “It is more compact than the rest of the museum. As long as I am not in here for a prolonged amount of time, I shall survive the discomfort.” Although he shifted uneasily by the doorway, he made no move to enter further.

  “This phobia you have must be bad when you find yourself in a tight place on assignments.”

  “I try to avoid them whenever possible,” Eric confessed quietly. “It is why I usually work with one of my comrades.”

  Yet, this time, he was without one. Trying not to let that fact bug her, Jasmine moved towards the table. Swirling into the air, disrupted dust particles began to make her cough. Using her hand to cover her mouth and nose, she waited until it began to settle. She studiously examined the contents of the desk as she waited.

  An empty mug had been left neglected. Various pens and pencils were strewn across the surface. A spider had made its home among the forgotten things. Fragments of its delicate cobwebs lay like a white shroud.

  Easing closer, Jasmine stared down at the only book she could see. “I’ve found some kind of journal,” she called out as she flipped through the pages. “Mark told us Professor O’Hara collected magical objects and sold them on to supernatural buyers. This looks like it could be his ledger.”

  Scanning through the scribbles, Jasmine realised quickly it wasn’t going to be easy to decipher. For one, the man had atrocious handwriting. Secondly, it was in some kind of code.