FrostBite

by Claire Marta

  When hands grasped her wrists, Jasmine squealed in fright. Struggling, she tried to yank free. She pushed her body backwards, attempting to ram back into her captor. If she could catch him by surprise, she might have a chance. But she was met with nothing but air.

  Confusion bolted through her. What the fuck was going on?

  Gripping the curtain rod, she jabbed it backwards. There did not seem to be anything to hit.

  Suddenly she found herself airborne. In the blink of an eye, she was pinned spread-eagled high up against the wall. Jasmine realised then nothing physically had hold of her. Her captor did not seem to exist. Invisible hands held her immobile. She could feel them gripping her ankles and wrists tightly. They flexed against her flesh.

  Panic washed through her. Jasmine began to thrash desperately. Twisting and turning, she tried to break free, but to no avail. By the time she stopped struggling, her chest was heaving from the exertion. The whole time she had been held firm but gently.

  The force holding the hand gripping the curtain rod squeezed until she dropped it. Jasmine gasped in pain. The makeshift weapon clattered to the floor.

  Wide-eyed with shock, she looked back up the steps. Eric was standing in the doorway watching, arms crossed over his big chest. How was he doing that? She felt her heart miss a beat.

  Lips pressed together in a thin white line, he did not look impressed. In fact he looked something akin to very pissed off.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Jasmine swallowed down her dread. Had the bastard been watching her somehow the whole time? Toying with her?

  “I…was just going for a walk,” she responded weakly.

  “Hmmm.”

  The can of hairspray was tugged from her pocket. It floated in front of her for a moment before joining the curtain rod on the floor with a thud. She stared helplessly down at her weapons.

  Crap. She was so screwed.

  Slowly she found herself gliding away from the wall. An invisible force drew her towards the vampire. Jasmine found she dangled helpless in the air. The unseen hands still held her arms and legs. Her body no longer felt like her own. Eric seemed to have complete control over her movements.

  He positioned her so their faces were inches from each other. Icy eyes stared coldly unblinking into hers. A chill touched her skin. The temperature in the stairwell seemed to drop a few degrees. Jasmine couldn’t help but shudder even though she was wearing a jacket.

  Eric sighed. “Your disobedience is tedious.” His deep low baritone sent another shiver down her spine. He had her helpless and at his mercy.

  Jasmine could not believe how aroused she suddenly felt. How wet. Nipples growing hard, she felt them stiffen against the material of her bra. Her eyes dipped to his sexy mouth, then back to his eyes. Jasmine licked her dry lips. God help her, she found this darkly exciting. This was so wrong.

  Apart from the angry slash of his mouth, no other emotion showed on his face. What was he thinking? What did he plan to do with her now? The questions crashed around inside her head.

  The force holding her abruptly let go. She fell straight into his waiting arms. They coiled around her like steel bands. As she tried to struggle, he carried her back into the suite. She was embarrassed at how easily he subdued her. Controlled her. Turned her on.

  “Get the fuck off me,” Jasmine hissed.

  Without even stopping, he stalked back into the bedroom. The chill in the air seemed permanently attached to the vamp as it followed them as they went. Unceremoniously he dropped her, still struggling, onto the bed. Jasmine bounced on the mattress. She scrambled backwards and her back hit the headboard. Warily she watched him.

  “Perhaps I should have not given you the clothes,” he mused angrily. “I doubt you would try to escape naked.”

  The temperature dropped even further and she shivered. Why the fuck was it suddenly so cold? The windows weren’t open so it wasn’t a draft. Eric was standing at the end of the bed, gaze fastened on her face. Anger was crashing off him in hot, angry waves. He was seriously pissed.

  “How are you awake? Vampires sleep during the day,” she said in confusion.

  Winter sunlight was pouring into the room from the window. He was standing, uncaring, in its light. By now he should have been a pile of ash.

  Eric narrowed his eyes to blue, glittering slits. “Perhaps you were wrong and I am not a vampire.”

  Jasmine frowned. He had bitten her, taken her blood. What else could he be but a vampire? She didn’t know of anything else that fed on plasma.

  Slowly she shook her head. Suspicion narrowed her eyes. “No. I’m not wrong you’re definitely a vamp.”

  *

  An image of Jasmine naked, wrists handcuffed to his headboard, flashed in his mind. Her ankles would also be clamped to a spreader bar. A position that would leave her helplessly exposed to his private pleasures. Something he wanted very much. Eric felt a slither of excitement buzz through him. His anger lessened. Bringing her to mind-blowing orgasms while he played with her was something he now craved. He could also teach her a little obedience. It was something one day Eric would accomplish when he had her complete trust. For now, though, it would have to wait.

  Her jade green eyes were lit with wary defiance. That cute little chin of hers was raised in challenge. The softness of her coppery red hair was a messy halo around her head. His little female was ready to fight. It had been amusing to watch her escape attempt. She had done rather well, which made him proud. The game was now over, though. He needed her to abide by his rules.

  Reining in his anger helped leash his wintry powers and gain control. Letting them slip free had never been his intention. It had never happened before. Eric had not missed her shiver nor the look of wary confusion. His power ebbed. The temperature in the room rose back to normality.

  “I need your compliance, Jasmine. You must obey my wishes and stay in this room,” he informed her sharply. “Do not attempt to leave again.”

  The look she returned seemed to question his sanity. “I’m not doing anything you say, bloodsucker, and you can’t keep me here against my will.”

  A sigh of frustration left his lips. He did not have time for this. The girl was stubborn. She had tried to lull him into believing she was manageable. A clever ploy, but it had not worked. He knew he should have already used his power of persuasion—the logical step. With anyone else, he would have already had them enthralled. Eric knew he should have placed her under his will earlier. That she should now be a slave to his words. It would be only temporary.

  But it felt wrong. He could not explain why. Seeing her spirit dulled and controlled was something he had no wish to see. Eric wanted her to retain her free will in all things, including when she finally succumbed to his desires. It would make it all the sweeter.

  Eric knew only one way she would calm and obey now. He would tell her a certain degree of truth.

  “Would it help if I told you I am here to prevent Marcel from using your friend?” He knew telling her this would break his plans, but what other option did he have? Neither he nor Raoul could waste time babysitting her.

  The defiance on her face faltered for a moment. “Why should I believe you?”

  “You have little choice in the matter and if you do not, you will no doubt wind up dead,” Eric mocked with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow. “And that would be such a pity.”

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Who are you working for then? CIA, Interpol?”

  He was not about to tell her he was freelance. That he worked for any government or agency that required the certain skills he and his team possessed.

  Eric kept his expression remote. “I am not at liberty to give you that information.”

  The little female moved nervously on the bed. “Then why should I believe you?”

  “You work for Scotland Yard and have done so for two months. If I was really working with Marcel Coupe, do you not think I would have informed him of this already?” Eric slid his hands int
o the pockets of his jeans. “You would be dead, Jasmine. Not sitting in this hotel suite.”

  Uncertainty shadowed her face.

  He could tell she was mulling over his words. All he could hope now was that she believed him.

  “You’re really here to stop the arms dealer? How do I know this isn’t just bullshit?”

  Eric sighed again.

  “Jasmine I have not lied to you. We have been hunting him for over a year. There have been whispers of a silent partner, a Doctor Dasyurus. We know nothing about this person. There are no photos and information is limited. We do not even know if it is a male or female.”

  He had not planned to tell her so much. The words, though, had spilled from his mouth unhindered. Eric frowned. How did this girl have the power to twist him in knots, make him burn with lust, and bare some of his most guarded secrets? It was most disturbing.

  “You want to know who this doctor is?” Her soft words dragged him from his thoughts.

  “Yes,” he responded a little harshly. “This doctor is turning out to be very dangerous. He or she seems to have a passion for science, but not in a way to help mankind.”

  Just then, Raoul abruptly appeared in the bedroom doorway.

  *

  Jasmine eyed the man at the door. He had smooth, mocha-coloured skin and short, spiky, black hair. He was handsome in an androgynous supermodel kind of way. He was tall. Not as tall as Eric, but still broad-shouldered and slim. His tight scarlet jumper accentuated the muscularity of his torso. Black jeans showed off narrow hips and long legs.

  Warm, honey-brown eyes settled on her. “My name is Raoul. I have someone who wishes to speak to you online, Miss Hunter,” he announced in a slightly accented voice.

  Jasmine’s sixth sense was already tingling. This guy was also a vampire. Power clung to him like an invisible cloak. She could feel the flow and ebb of its muted force, like gentle waves on a beach. It was a familiar feeling. She had sensed it the other day in the taxi. Had this Raoul been the driver?

  Her eyes slid back to Eric. Could she really believe everything he had just told her? He wanted her compliance. Maybe he would tell her anything, just to get her to stay. How could she trust this vampire?

  Chapter 12

  A laptop had been set up on the table in the sitting room. She padded cautiously closer and peered at the screen. A familiar face stared back at her. From his expression he did not look happy.

  “Hey, Jaz, you OK?” asked Mark Cummings, her boss. He was sitting behind his desk at work. A pencil with one end badly chewed was resting behind one of his ears. Behind wire-rimmed specs, his caramel brown eyes brimmed with concern.

  “Mark.” She flopped down into the chair before the laptop. “Marcel’s taken Twitch again.. I couldn’t help him. I’m sorry.” Guilt thickened her throat.

  Jasmine knew there was no point mentioning the vampires. No doubt Eric was an agent of some kind, as he had said. The fact they had gotten hold of her boss only confirmed it. She couldn’t really doubt him now.

  Mark nodded slowly. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Raoul’s just filled me in on what happened. Thank God he got you out of that building in time before it collapsed. You’re lucky to be alive. If they had not been working this case, you might be dead already.”

  So it had been the other vampire who had gotten her out. She glanced his way. Leaning against the door frame, he stood by the bedroom watching. A kind smile touched his lips. His honey brown eyes were watchful as they regarded each other. She would have to thank him for saving her life.

  Sunlight was bathing his form from the large sitting room windows. Apparently he, too, was unaffected by the sun.

  “Jasmine, you have to do what Mr. Méchant says. This has come down from way above our heads,” Mark continued.

  She looked back at the screen, confused for a moment. Who the hell was Mr. Méchant?

  “That would be me,” Eric murmured from the position he had taken on one of the sofas. He had his feet up on the glass coffee table, ankles crossed. Gone were the anger and the harshness. He had an air of relaxed ease about him now. Amusement was dancing in his icy blue eyes. This would make him her superior. She had a feeling he was enjoying this. He seemed to like control.

  Jasmine felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She cleared her throat. “So he’s my boss while I’m here?”

  “Yes,” Mark responded gravely. From his expression he was not happy about it. “You have to assist him any way you can, even if that’s staying put and keeping quiet.” He began to twiddle with the pen on his desk. “I wanted you sent home, but as he’s pointed out, Marcel Coupe might try to get hold of you again. I want you and Twitch back here in London in one piece together.”

  That made sense. Besides she wasn’t going anywhere without Twitch. No way was she abandoning him. Wisely though, she knew not to mention that. Mark would just get pissed off.

  As for the vampire, she did not have a clue what he would do.

  Jasmine nodded. “Alright, Mark. I can sit in a hotel room for a few days, I guess.”

  She could see he wanted to say more and knew he couldn’t in front of the vamps. Running his hand through his messy, short, chestnut locks was the only other sign of his agitation. He had to hate this.

  “Watch your back and try not to be a pain in the arse like you usually are,” was all he said in a grim, don’t-do-anything-stupid tone. Then he was gone.

  “I am not a pain in the arse,” she muttered under her breath.

  Jasmine stared at the blank screen for a moment. Was this going to get complicated? Eric was her boss. Yes, he now seemed to be a good guy, but could she really trust him? She didn’t know what his agenda was.

  With an audible sigh, she turned to face him. “I guess, it looks like I can trust you after all.”

  His eyebrows inched up slightly with amusement. He did not reply.

  What the heck did he want, an apology for her mistrust? He wasn’t about to get one. The vampire hadn’t exactly trusted her either.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me who you were when I woke up?” she asked, unable to hide her irritation. Jasmine knew they could have wasted valuable time. Twitch was a prisoner and was in need of rescuing. She didn’t know why they wanted Marcel, but if they could help she would be happy. Even if that meant she had to follow the vampire’s orders.

  “The less who know the better.” Eric replied silkily. “I had hoped to keep you in the dark until our task was complete.”

  She could understand their need for secrecy. They had probably risked a lot to just help her.

  “Why did you contact Mark then and tell me now?”

  Eric released a long sigh. “Because we cannot continually watch you and carry on with our mission. You do not seem to take orders well.”

  Jasmine suddenly felt defensive. She could follow orders just fine.

  “That was only because I thought you were a bad guy, Eric,” she pointed out, the tension in her voice palpable.

  The vampire’s eyes narrowed. “That does not appear to be the case from what your boss has just revealed. Did he not just call you a pain in the arse?”

  “That’s just because I have a tendency to question things a lot, that’s all,” she responded defensively.

  The vampire sat for a moment watching her in silence. His face was unreadable. How he had perfected such an expression, she did not know. It gave nothing away. Not even his eyes hinted at what was going on in the mind behind them.

  “Please do not hesitate to call down to room service whenever you require food,” he replied suddenly in his deep, sexy baritone. “Skipping breakfast will no doubt leave you hungry.”

  Confusion darkened her eyes. He was changing the subject? If he did not believe her that was just fine. She didn't care. The vampire was just in charge until she got Twitch back. Then they were gone.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled.

  Eating was low down on her things to do. She wanted to know how he had stopped her fr
om escaping. “How did you hold me against the wall without touching me?”

  Eric tilted his head to one side and watched her shrewdly. “I merely borrowed some of Raoul’s power to restrain you.”

  Jasmine’s brows drew together. She had never heard of this being possible before. “So it wasn’t yours?”

  “No.” Eric’s gaze dropped away from her face. “We are blood brothers, share blood, which allows us to borrow each other’s abilities if we are close enough in range.”

  Turning, she faced the other vampire. He had taken a seat on the other sofa, which was closer to the coffee table. He, too, was watching her intently.

  Jasmine was starting to find the attention a little uncomfortable. It was like they found her fascinating. Coldness blew against her senses. She could feel a power rising like a bitter winter breeze.

  Raoul placed one long finger on the table. Ice began to creep outwards from his touch coating the surface in tiny glittering crystals. They sparkled in the sunlight.

  “Ice?”

  “That is one of Eric’s abilities.” Raoul responded quietly. “I am only demonstrating.”

  The moment he removed his finger from the table, the ice vanished.

  Jasmine was pretty sure she had never heard of vampires being able to do such things. She was getting more questions than answers.

  “You were the taxi driver yesterday, weren’t you?”

  Surprise showed on the dark-skinned vampire’s face for a moment. “You are observant. Yes, that was me.”

  “You also stopped Pierre from shooting me to didn’t you?”

  She had not forgotten how the guard's hand had jerked upwards. The bullet had gone up instead of into her body. There had been shock on Pierre’s face when he had lost control of his arm.

  Raoul nodded.

  “We believe you may have a mole in your department,” Eric said, cutting into her thoughts. His voice was brisk and all-business now, like he was uncomfortable discussing their vampiric powers.