by Claire Marta
“I’ve sensed more than a dozen, and that number’s growing.”
“We can’t leave them here. Once this assignment is over, we bag and tag them to bring back to London. Once they’ve been categorised and researched, they’ll be locked away in a secure vault where they can’t do any harm.”
Jasmine dutifully followed him out of the doorway. She squealed in surprise as a hand landed on butt and squeezed her backside. “Fergus!” she squeaked as she jumped away from the wolf.
“Hey, you’re my girl, and I get to touch your arse in greeting. By the way, your tits look fantastic in that dress.” He stepped from the shadows, giving her a leery grin.
“It’s only pretend while Eric is around! What the hell has gotten into you?” she hissed back.
“The blood moon always brings the beast closer to the surface in every species. It calls to our primitive self. Something that’s normally dormant.” Mark’s voice was quiet beside her.
“Yeah, basically, I’m a million times hornier, and any piece of arse will do.” Fergus’s amber eyes were lighter than normal. Usually this happened when his animal side was ready to emerge.
“Well, mine isn’t doing anything with you!”
“Mutt, if you need a release, you come to me,” Gemma called from where she stood at the end of the corridor. “I’ll soon work that wild energy out of you.”
“Hmm, you thinking something kinky this time or just some rough sex?” Striding towards her, he ran his tongue enticingly over his bottom lip. His interest was plain.
“Do you have to talk about this now?” Jasmine protested.
“A threesome. I wouldn’t say no to that, either.” Fergus threw the words over his shoulder as he stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his worn jeans. For a second, Jasmine wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. He’d never been anything but like a big brother to her.
“We’re supposed to be professionals. Can you please start acting like it?” Mark griped as he herded her after the rest of the team. “Keep the flirting to off duty.”
As they reached the banisters, Gemma gave a startled cry. “Oh crap!” She glared at the stairs with her hand flying to her chest. “She scared the fuck out of me.”
Peaking from between the wooden posts was a small round cherub face. Unblinking, the child sat watching them. It was the same girl Jasmine had seen earlier.
Fergus snickered as he snaked an arm around the huntress’s waist and pulled her close. “I thought nothing scares you, especially a little half pint like that.” Nuzzling her neck, he inhaled.
Bracing her hands against his brawny chest, Gemma pushed him away. “If you want a piece of this, you can wait until we’re done for the day.”
“I’m going to have more than a piece.” Slapping her on the backside, he prowled past her to the kitchen with a chuckle.
Jasmine edged closer to the stairs, letting Mark precede her. “Hey there. You must be Tabitha.”
Expression blank, the child didn’t reply but continued to watch them. Her silence was disconcerting.
“Well, aren’t you just a sweet little bag of creepy,” Gemma crooned as she joined them. “You really fit in with the other attractions in here.”
“She’s just lost her Grandfather so probably still traumatized,” Jasmine jabbed her friend in the ribs to shush her.
“I can’t tell,” Gemma confessed as she slipped a piece of gum from its wrapper. “I don’t get on well with children. They just don’t seem to like me.”
Chin dipping, the child sat on the steps, her slim hands busy as she played with a box. It was oriental in design. The sides were carved with dragons entwined, their eyes fierce with teeth bared. It was beautifully made. Handmade and very old.
“Is that a puzzle box?” Jasmine asked, already knowing the answer. She’d seen similar designs in several well-known second-hand markets in London. They’d always fascinated her.
Thick dark eyelashes rising, the girl observed her. For the briefest of seconds, the look in her gaze was worldly, as if the soul housed in such a fragile body was far older than its younger facade.
“There you are, Tabitha. I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” The nanny’s scolding voice broke their connection. “Come on; if you want to get to the park before it gets too hot, we better get a move on.”
Startled at the interruption, Tabitha rose and scampered back up the steps, brushing past her watcher.
“Sorry about that,” Ellen apologised as she leaned over the banisters. “She’s a nosy thing.”
“Shy too, I’m guessing as she hasn’t spoken to us, yet.” Jasmine batted some hair off her forehead. It was already damp with sweat as the suffocating heat of the day continued to grow.
“Oh, Caroline didn’t tell you?” Behind the thick lenses of her glasses, the woman’s eyes shadowed with sadness. “She doesn’t speak. Hasn’t said a word since her Grandfather died. She also lost her father a few months ago in a car accident, so it’s all been a double blow.”
Shocked, Jasmine’s attention shifted to her boss. A scowl tightened Mark’s expression with frustration. “We we’re told nothing about that. So, Caroline lost her father and husband?”
“They weren’t married.” Ellen checked over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being over heard. “From what I learned, Bence was John’s chauffeur, who she had a summer fling with. It was all meant to be a bit of fun until she found herself pregnant. Of course, she didn’t want to marry him when he proposed. She was happy to sleep with the hired help, but not get hitched to one.”
“Grief manifests in different ways,” Mark’s mood shifted back into work mode. “I’m sure given time Tabitha will find her voice again.”
“Yes. I’m sure your right,” Ellen agreed as her cheerfulness returned. “Anyway, I better get going. Can’t stand the heat once it hits lunchtime, and Tabitha will need her afternoon nap after a good run around. I’ll see you all at dinner.” With a wave, she bounced back up the stairs.
“Where’s Caroline?” Gemma questioned curiously from her position by the door.
“Probably still in her room. I’ve known her most of her life, and she tends to be a bit on the dramatic side.” Mark sighed with slight irritation. “I suggest we get started before she decides to come and interfere. Let’s start the briefing in the kitchen.”
“Where’s Eric?” Jasmine asked, hating herself the moment she asked the question. It shouldn’t matter to her where he was. If she were lucky, he finally took the hint and left.
Voices talking rapidly interrupted them, which was followed by the bang of a door. Jasmine and her friends turned towards the sound when the commotion grew louder. The plump, red-cheeked housekeeper emerged into the corridor, her arms full of shopping bags. Trailing behind her with his own load was a bronze skinned man. Young and attractive, he was wearing a pair of worn jeans and an open shirt. A mop of black hair had been brushed carelessly back. With dark attractive eyes, he took them in.
There was something familiar about his features. Something Jasmine couldn’t put her finger on.
“Here, let me help you with those,” Fergus offered as he shifted to take some of the excess burden.
Snapping sharply in Hungarian, the old woman made a strange gesture with one hand. Escaping along the corridor with the youth in tow, she didn’t stop until she found the kitchen.
“What the fuck was that about?” Fergus asked in astonishment. Raising his arm, he hastily sniffed under the armpit of his black t-shirt.
“Maybe she finds you intimating?”
“Little old me?” The wolf blinked innocently at Jasmine as he also checked his zipper.
“Who was that with her?” Gemma liberated a square piece of gum from its wrapper before shoving the rest of the packet back into the pocket of her cotton shorts.
“Tamás, he’s the only member of staff the professor had,” Mark explained. “Apparently, he sells tickets at the front desk and maintains the exhibits. We haven’t been introduce
d, yet. Caroline told me he only comes a few days a week to help around the house.”
“Are we going to have to deal with the general public coming into the museum?”
“No, everything is closed until we are done with our investigation,” Mark assured them with a half-smile at Jasmine’s inquiry. “Where the hell did you disappear to?” His expression suddenly becoming clouded with annoyance.
Spinning on her heels, Jasmine discovered Eric directly behind her.
“I had some phone calls to make to London and took myself off to the rear garden so as not to disturb you,” he rumbled out with a polite inclining off his head.
“Well, now everyone’s finally assembled, we’re going to check out the antique shops John liked to visit. There might be some clues there about his last purchase, if we can find the right one. Can you set up the surveillance equipment Jasmine?”
“You’re only giving me this job because none of you actually listened to Twitch when he explained how to do it, right?” she groaned. They’d been given a whole range of ghost busting equipment by their department at Scotland Yard.
“Well Jaz, that’ll teach you for turning into a model agent,” Gemma teased. The smell of strawberry wafted Jasmine’s way. Her friend continued to chew on the squishy substance, which she was yet to blow.
“May I stay and assist, Jasmine?”
Shocked at Eric’s request, it took a second for her to respond. “I don’t need his help.” Jasmine jerked her thumb at the vamp. She was more than capable of this job alone. He’d only be in the way.
“It’s still best if none of us are left alone.” Plucking his glasses off his nose, Mark began to clean them, thoroughly, with a square patch of cloth he’d fished from the pocket of his jeans. “But I’m leaving Jasmine in charge.”
“So he has to follow my orders?” Jasmine stared at her boss, realising how different he looked when he wasn’t wearing them. It was odd but true.
Mark nodded. There was a twinkle in his caramel-brown eyes as if he knew she was going to get a kick out of bossing the Eric around. “If you need us, phone. Right, let’s getting moving. We’re doing this on foot and by tram.”
As Fergus passed, Jasmine reached out to rub the top of his smooth bald head. “For luck.” She giggled as Gemma copied the action with a laugh.
Curving a muscular arm around her hip, the werewolf pulled her close. “Try to keep your legs together while were away.”
“Fergus!” Jasmine gasped, shocked at her friend’s whispered comment.
“Well, I know your track record with vamps,” he added, giving her a sardonic glance as he released her.
Baring her teeth, she gave him a scowl. “Bugger off!”
Eric examined the box in his hand. He was well aware of such devices that picked up the dead. The fact they were using them now had him intrigued. He’d never dealt with spectres and superstitions. Espionage was more his forte. Ghosts were something he’d given little thought to. They were something not of this world. Trapped between this existence and the next. He’d never had trouble with such things before, which made this all the more exciting. It was not often he discovered something he hadn’t yet experienced in some form or another.
They had decided to set up in one of the rooms in the middle of the museum. Activity had been reported in this particular area numerous times. In fact, it seemed to be a hot spot for ghostly activity. Windowless with backlighted exhibits. Eric could well understand hysteria forming from such an environment. He himself found enclosed spaces uncomfortable. Jasmine had once referred to it as a phobia. It was something Eric wouldn’t admit. Weaknesses were something Vampiria born vampires lacked. They were above such things.
The reverberation of footsteps sounded behind him. Hefting a heavy bag through the door, Jasmine eyed him angrily. Any attempt to assist her had been met with hostility. Eric could see she was out to prove that she didn’t need him. It was admirable, yet also foolish when he was there to help.
“We need to set these up,” she grumbled and dumped the bag she’d been carrying. It hit the carpeted floor with a thud, narrowly missing his feet. One dark eyebrow rising, Eric was unsure whether she’d been aiming for them or not. Her anger towards him was simmering. It’d been peeking through her polite act the longer they were alone.
“You will have to talk me through it, I am afraid,” he admitted in a deep smooth rumble. “I have little knowledge of such things.”
“I thought you knew everything,” she scoffed as she straightened her dress. Like the one she’d been wearing the night before, it was figuring hugging and feminine. Falling to just below her knees, he admired the sunflower yellow of the thin material against her creamy pink skin.
“Most things. Not everything, my lovely,” His attention lingered on the pulse at the base of her throat. Running his tongue over his teeth, his fangs throbbed in time with her heart.
“If Twitch were here, he’d already have them up and functioning.” Jasmine seemed completely unaware of his interest. Kneeling down, she began to hurriedly unzip the bag.
From his new vantage point, Eric enjoyed his view of the valley between her breasts. He was well aware she was braless. “You miss him?”
“It’s not the same not having him here.” Hauling out a mess of plastic boxes she began to sort through them. “It’s too quiet and doesn’t feel right without his inappropriate pervy jokes.”
Eric’s gaze roved over the wireless cameras and assortment of other devices he was unfamiliar with. There uses he would have to learn quickly. He very much doubted his feisty red-headed female would spare time on showing him more than once. It was odd to realise this time around she’d be the teacher.
Dropping gracefully to his haunches, he began to help. “I am sure he will be back with you in no time at all,” he soothed.
They had much to discuss, but first, he needed her to be comfortable with his presence. She was yet to understand the bond they shared through the blood he had given her in Prague. How it linked them. Jasmine had no idea that he could now feel her emotions as easily as if they were his own. It was something that would no doubt invoke fear and anger when she did learn of it. These were not the feelings Eric wanted from this woman. Yet, for now, he could use this advantage against her.
Glancing around, Jasmine’s expression abruptly turned wary. Eric realised it was more than just his presence that bothered her. No. Something about the museum had her on edge. The ghosts perhaps? Could she sense something more of them than the rest of them could? It was conceivable with her abilities that she was somehow on the same wavelength.
“Are you sensing something?” he asked, voice now filled with concern.
“I keep seeing things,” she admitted. Ducking her head, she continued to arrange the equipment with shaking hands.
She was frightened. Eric could smell the subtle scent of her fear. “The spirits?” With a frown, his attention hunted around the room for the source of her upset, but he could see nothing out of place.
“Shapes from the corner of my eye, things like that.” Fretfully, she zipped the empty bag closed. “It’s...distracting.”
Shifting closer he settled next to where she sat. “Perhaps they are curious that you can see them. I doubt it is every day they discover someone who can.”
The theory was sound. How many psychics or sensitives entered such a place? Jasmine’s abilities were also far beyond anything he’d come across before, in all his centuries walking the earth. She was uniquely gifted.
“Maybe...they don’t scare you?”
Her wide green eyes locked on his thoughtful expression. Every one of her emotions was clear as crystal. Anxiety, doubt, barely suppressed terror. The protective spiky shell she’d been hiding behind was lowered for a split second.
Eric smiled, restraining the urge to gather her into his arms and keep her safe. “No quite, the opposite in fact. I find this most interesting. I have never encountered a ghost before.”
“Can you
hear that?” Head whipping around, Jasmine’s panic bubbled over. Softly at first, it was similar to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. The more she listened the more it changed from something barely audible, unfocused. It morphed into the chatter of hushed voices.
“I am unsure as to what you are referring to, my lovely.”
Eric’s calm washed over her frayed nerves. A jab of resentment twinged in Jasmine’s chest. He shouldn’t have the power to reassure her. Damn him for being so cool and collected. Damn him for being here and seeing her weakness.
The brush of fingers as light as cobwebs skimmed up Jasmine’s arm. Startled, she swung around sharply to find no one there. Chills danced down her spine. It was unnerving to realise something she couldn’t see was able to touch her. Biting her tongue to stop herself swearing, she checked the equipment at her feet.
As if they had been waiting for her, the K2 monitors began to beep wildly. Releasing a breath through her teeth she scooped one up. The small green light was blinking as she clutched the black box in her clammy hand. She knew these were the devices that picked up ghostly activity. Twitch had shown her the use of each one in detail.
“The whispering...It’s coming from the walls.” Licking her dry lips, Jasmine assessed the displays. Stark bright lighting shone down on each glass case. She could see the strange treasures the dead owner had lovingly hoarded within. A glassy-eyed two-headed snake stared back at her within the confines of its jar of yellowish liquid.
“Perhaps they have rodents,” Eric reasoned rationally.
Shaking her head, Jasmine spared the dark brooding vamp a look of disbelief. “No, Eric. These are voices...but it’s muted like sounds underwater.” What she was hearing was unmistakable.
The vampire raked a hand through his short black hair and arched one eyebrow. “Your abilities have matured greatly since our last meeting.”
“I’ve noticed a change in the last few months...I seem to be becoming more open to things,” Her sensitivity was becoming honed by the training provided by the Master Vampire of London. Asier was sharpening her mind as well as her body.