by Claire Marta
“Still, I would rather we not repeat this again.” Eric’s tone was clipped. Whatever he was feeling was now tightly under control.
“Jaz, you ok?” Fergus asked as he sprinted to her side.
“I feel like a fucking ice cube.”
Dropping to his knees, he slid an arm around her shoulders and heaved her into a bear hug. The heat radiating off him almost scalded her. Jasmine bit back a moan of pain.
“What happened to the wolves? Why did they attack us like that?” Her forehead was resting against his bare shoulder. The numbness from the water was starting to melt away. An ache across her breasts where she had been hit warned her she’d be wearing bruises the next day.
“They ran off. The local pack might be sniffing around because I’m an unknown wolf in their territory. Their reaction, though, was out of character from what I know of them.” Fergus had both hands on her back and was rubbing them up and down vigorously. “It’s unheard of them to attack like this unless provoked. Although this close to the red moon, it might be affecting them already. It brings out the crazies more than normal.” Lifting her up he cradled her more comfortably in his lap. “The odd thing was they were after Gemma more than the rest of us.”
“Jaz, you okay?”
Tilting her chin slightly, she found Mark and Gemma had joined them. A crowd was gathering, voices high and frightened at the scene they’d just witnessed. Many were staring at the vampire with a look of fear and awe.
Embarrassment washed through Jasmine. She was suddenly more than aware of how she was snuggled up to a male team member. “Yeah, just warming up.”
She completely avoided Eric’s gaze. He’d risen to his feet in silence and, now, stood like a stiff sentinel. Jasmine was pretty sure if she met his eyes she’d die of hypothermia, and she was already cold enough.
Fergus grinned down at her. “Hug a Wolf. We’re better than a hot water bottle.”
“I suggest we move as were drawing too much attention.” Mark insisted quickly. The relaxed mood of earlier evaporated.
One brawny bicep wrapped around her middle, Fergus rose to his feet with no effort. Hooking his other arm under her knees, he kept Jasmine safe.
“I detect the faint smell of blood,” Eric announced as he tracked every manoeuvre. “Jasmine, were you bitten?”
Moving from the bystanders, their group hurried away.
“The department checked when she first started working for us, she doesn’t have the dormant gene even if she was,” their boss reassured him.
“Just a few scratches, and I think I'm going to have one hell of a bruise, but no getting furry for me,” Jasmine confirmed. Only a small percent of the human population could become werewolves or any other type of shifter. It was all to do with a certain gene. Not many had it, and if you weren’t tested you never knew. Full-blooded shifters were born. They were supernatural species that evolved along with humanity.
“Shame, I could’ve seen you as a kitty. All soft and purring when you have your tummy rubbed,” Fergus joked. “I’d have gotten you a scratching post and cat nip for the office.”
Heat warmed Jasmine’s pale cheeks. That was the nickname Eric called her. He’d certainly made her purr earlier trapped against the wall. The memory stirred her body. Trying to hide the reaction, she buried her face in Fergus’s neck.
Jasmine had gained speed and agility beyond a mere human. Eric had just witnessed this. He knew this was because of his blood. They were bonded. The strength in the blood he’d given to heal her wounds in Prague remained. She was forever altered.
“You dance with death too many times,” Eric muttered angrily as they made their way back towards the museum. Whatever shock she had been experiencing wore off quickly. Instead of allowing Fergus to carry her, she insisted on walking.
Jasmine stopped limping and turned to face him. “He hasn’t caught up with me, yet, and I think he enjoys the brush just like I do.” Short red hair plastered to her cheeks, she was still soaked through from her dunk in the river. The material of her pretty summer dress was practically transparent. Eric’s stare fell to the dusky outline of her tight nipples. Already, he could see the flesh beneath darkening with the marks of where she had been struck.
“Your die-hard attitude will get you killed,” he continued, trying to control his anger. It would’ve only cost a moment or two distraction to get to her too late. Eric knew instinctively that his feisty female would’ve died tonight if he hadn’t been present. She might be stronger, but she was still fool hardy.
Jasmine’s gaze hardened, lips twisting slightly. “So? What’re you going to do, have me fired again?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips.
“No, of course not.” With a sigh, Eric raked his fingers through his short black hair in frustration. It was hard to remain professional when all he wished to do was carry his female off somewhere secure. A place he could keep her from harm. He knew, though, she wouldn’t be grateful for such a macho act. His interference before had cost Jasmine her job. After realising his blunder, he had pulled the right strings to have her reinstated without her knowledge.
“I am just asking you to take more care. You are too impulsive, like a child.”
Jasmine’s head shot up. Her jade green eyes prepared for battle. “A child now, am I?”
“I did not mean that as an insult…”
“Then, how was I supposed to take it?”
“Jasmine, I am far older than you. I have almost forgotten what it feels like to be your age,” Eric tried to soothe.
“Another good reason why I’m not interested in you...old man.” Swivelling away, she stormed off after her friends.
“I have no wish to fight with you, so stop trying to provoke me.”
Her barriers were raised to maximum to keep him out. Eric could see that, clearly. Whatever he said now wouldn’t appease her. Like a kitten with its claws out, she hissed and spat. She was filled with hostility and the desire for combat. It wasn’t what he needed. He wanted to ease her animosity, not fuel it. As yet he didn’t have the option to work these emotions from her in bed. Eric was more than sure, though, when he did it would be an unforgettable event.
Jasmine tried to ignore the throbbing pain heavy across her breasts. She’d been hit before and knew there’d be bruising. The blow had been hard, but she had experienced harder at the hands of the Master Vampire of London. Asier was relentless in his training, didn’t believe in going slow or gentle.
He gave her exactly what she needed. Never treated her like a fragile princess. For an instance, Jasmine wished he were here. With restless anger rolling through her, she knew the Italian would know exactly what to do to work it out. Sparring was one way, and when that didn’t work, he fucked her roughly until she could barely move.
Jasmine welcomed the echo of spent pleasure that curled through her abdomen and gathered between her legs the imagery evoked. Once she was back in London, she’d seek Asier out. Life would get back on track, and Eric would vanish like smoke, once this mission was over.
So lost deep in thought, she barely registered the person sitting idly on the steps of a large darkened house. A bony hand seized Jasmine’s wrist as she passed. Startled, she tried to jerk it free. The old woman had a surprisingly firm grip. Bundled within a brightly covered shawl, a wizened face poked out to stare at her.
“She wishes to tell your fortune,” Eric explained as he took the measure of the weather worn female when he reached them.
Letting her hand relax, Jasmine stopped resisting the insistent grip that held her. “Okay...sure.”
Hunching over with concentration, the fortune teller examined Jasmine’s palm. She clucked her tongue. There was a strange gleam in her eyes as she raised her chin to speak softly in Hungarian. One gnarled finger traced the path of the lines she found, which left an odd tingle in its wake.
Eric was listening. A strange expression was mounting on his arrogant handsome face. Whatever he was being told wasn’t what he’d, o
bviously, been expecting. Then, as the teller finished, he replied harshly back in the same language.
“What did she say?” Jasmine asked, curiously, watching the exchange.
Making a strange hand gesture her way, the old woman then tightened the shawl around her thin shoulders.
Eric turned his frosty intense scrutiny Jasmine’s way. “That you will have a long and healthy life with many children.”
“Really?” Eyebrows raising, she flashed him a disbelieving look.
“Indeed.”
He was lying.
Dress still damp and starting to cling to every inch of her, Jasmine was in no mood for lies. The last thing she needed was the vamp trying to trick her. Frustration boiling over, Jasmine had enough. “Eric cut the bullshit and tell me what she really said. Even with the language barrier, I can tell it’s not all roses and fairy tales.”
The stiffening of his shoulders was the only sign her soft resentment had reached him.
“She says that death itself stalks you in more ways than one.” It was said without hesitation.
Something scraping against her fingers threw Jasmine off from responding. Nestled in her palm was a circular piece of metal. A talisman. It had been fashioned in the shape of a bloom. The blue vibrant painted helmet like bud was bright against her skin.
The gypsy’s voice was a low whisper.
“She says it is a gift you must accept,” the vampire continued, his manner cool.
“A metal flower?”
“Aconitum napellus - wolfsbane. The plant itself is poisonous to the touch and if ingested. This is an amulet honouring its essence and protective powers. Do not look on it lightly,” Eric advised as he took some euro notes from his wallet and politely presented them to the fortune teller who eagerly claimed them. “Her people have lived in this country for many generations and have faced creatures you have not even started to learn of. Keep that safe and on your person.”
The old woman’s words were still thundering through Eric’s head. Death wanted Jasmine. Those had been her exact words. He was familiar with such seers and knew not to take what she said lightly. His female was in danger but was it now or for the future? That was always the way with such things. You could never be certain when they were meant to pass.
“The others are miles ahead of us now,” Charm held tightly in her grasp, Jasmine’s frustration was abundant.
“Good.” Falling into step with her, Eric kept up with her pace. Keeping her at his side had now become far more than a necessity. It was imperative.
“And why is that good?”
“Because I finally have a chance to do this without interruption.” Arm coiling around her waist, he determinedly pulled her into his muscular chest. Tilting her head up quickly, his lips found hers in a searing kiss.
Eric kissed her like he was starving. The tip of his tongue caressed the seam of her mouth.
His touch began to melt her resistance. Jasmine found herself obeying his silent command before she could stop herself. With a small moan, she opened her mouth to his questing tongue. The kiss changed. Now, Eric devoured her. It was if he was pouring his soul into the contact, as though he were attempting to crack wide open the shield she’d erected around her heart. Jasmine whimpered, as she felt her resolve against him begin to break.
For a few precious moments, she forgot everything–all the heart ache and the pain of betrayal. There was nothing but this moment and the male who had stolen her heart.
“My need for you is unquenchable in its intensity. I cannot, I will not, let you go. Not again. I have never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
Eric tasted her passion in their kiss. He wanted to feel every detail of her skin against his own. He wanted to explore it, worship it with his lips, his tongue. He wanted to tear into her, pound his cock into her body, until there was no doubt in her mind who she belonged to. Until every inch of her was marked as his own.
“I know you feel the connection between us, Kitten.” Drawing her tighter into the protection of his embrace, he savoured her brief surrender.
“It’s just the blood you gave me in Prague.” she whispered shakily as if she didn’t fully register where she was. “I know it makes me attracted to you. It’s not real.”
In a way, it was true. It bonded them, so she’d crave his touch and closeness. Yet, there’d been something between them long before that.
“You were drawn to me long before then. I know in Paris you felt it...when we first met…”
Jasmine tried to shake her head in denial. “It’s just physical chemistry; that’s all.”
“It’s much more than that, my lovely...” He had to convince her what was between them was something far more precious. Something they couldn’t let slip away. Love.
Something akin to fear flashed for a moment in her lovely eyes. “No, Eric. I can’t do this.” The words spilled out in a panic from her lips. “I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you sweet talk me then betray me all over again.”
“I have already apologised for that.”
Jasmine twisted away from him, and he made no effort to stop her. He had no wish to make her feel trapped. She needed to come to him willingly.
A sense of panic mounted inside of Jasmine. If this vampire had even a hint that she loved him, he’d have power over her. That was something she couldn’t allow. The moment his mouth had captured her, she’d ceased to think. All she’d been able to do was tremble against him in an agony of need. He made her feel too vulnerable, too weak. If he hurt her, she wouldn’t be able to bear it. Everything she’d fought to build the last few months would shatter.
Arms hugged tightly around herself, Jasmine distanced herself. “Just because you’ve said it doesn’t make me automatically trust you. It doesn’t work that way.” Her eyes were sparkling with anger. Holding on to the sensation, she let it spread. She would not soften. Not let her feelings betray her like he had. Why should she believe Eric’s hollow affection? It was just another manipulation.
“I know,” the vampire responded quietly. “I need to prove my sincerity to you. But I promise you, Jasmine, I will not hurt you. I will not betray your trust this time around.”
“Sure, whatever.” Words meant nothing. The vampire would probably say anything to get what he wanted. She refused to fall for his smooth tricks. He’d already fooled her in the past. Turning away, Jasmine quickened her steps to catch up with her team.
Jasmine flipped the book closed. Rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes, she tried to relieve their ache. Whatever code the professor used was beyond her understanding. It could take months to crack it. They needed an expert. So far, all she’d read about were creatures from the ancient past.
Many of the legends spoke of things bent on destroying the world. One particular book was filled with it, something which occurred every hundred years or so. Yet, Jasmine knew the battle was an everyday part of life for her. She and her team from Scotland Yard were sometimes the only thing that stood between the world and some madman or monster.
Sighing tiredly, she placed the book on the bedside table next to the fortune-teller’s painted charm. As she moved, she grimaced. A thin layer of perspiration coated her skin, made worse when she moved. Wiping her hand down her neck and over her collar bone, she winced at the stinging scratches her nails left in their wake. This heat was driving her crazy. Checking the window, she assured it was open. Even this did little to alleviate the temperature.
Clicking the switch off on the lamp beside it, she plunged the room into darkness. It took on an eerie feel, without the soft glow. Scooting down under the blanket, she felt the satin of her short nightdress ride up around her thighs. For once, Jasmine knew it was not an irrational fear.
In the back of her mind, she was aware of being watched. Her sixth sense blew a warning.
Behind her, Jasmine felt the left side of the mattress dip. Laying still, she could feel the depression of the mattress where someone was lying beside her. Acro
ss from her, she could see the dark outline of Gemma’s form, sleeping peacefully.
Jasmine’s attention skipped to the door. It was closed. Not once had she heard it open. Peeping cautiously over her shoulder, she could see in the dim light that the space behind her was empty. Clenching her teeth, she curled into a foetal position. Great a ghost had decided to get nice and cosy. It was probably better that she couldn’t see it. From the impression she had, it wasn’t one of the children. No, this was adult size. Minutes ticked by as ominous silence stretched. Unwilling to move, a cramp began to slowly work its way through her limbs.
Whatever it was it seemed content to just lay there. Maybe this had been its bed? Jasmine wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Staring into the darkness, she focused on a pinprick of light. Tiny and harmless, it was a spot against what she guessed was the opposite wall. Without warning, it shot wider. Eating up the blackness, it raced towards her, making her jump. Jasmine tried to protect her face by throwing up her arms. Hot sultry air brushed over her skin, warming the chill that her ghostly visitor had left.
Opening her eyes, she blinked in bewilderment. The bedroom was gone. A vast broken city now stretched below her. Burnt grass lay beneath her feet. Sharpened edges of scorched earth were biting into her bare soles. Buildings lay empty and cold, now crumbling shells of what had once been a thriving metropolis. Jasmine stared down at the scene in horror from the hillside she found herself on. Taking a deep breathe, dry air-filled her lungs with the stink of decay. She pressed her hand to her mouth and nose.
Was this a dream? Or maybe some kind of vision? It wasn’t a place she’d ever seen before. Not even in her nightmares. Yet, everything felt so real. She could feel uncomfortable heat rising from the ground. No sun shone above her head. Thick grey clouds, swollen with rain, hung heavy as lightening streaked soundlessly in the unfamiliar sky.
