Blood Moon Rising

by Claire Marta

  Scrambling off the mattress, she pushed the metal frames together. The two single beds became a king size.

  “I may be a kick arse huntress, but ghosts terrify me, just don’t tell anyone else that. I like to have a target I can stab or shoot. Something solid. Nothing has ever spooked me this badly since I was a child, and my brothers were little shits,” Gemma confided quietly as they both settled back to watch the show.

  Jasmine guessed the confession was to put her more at ease. She snorted. “The last time they came down the pub with us, they wouldn’t stop boasting about their kill lists.”

  She’d been introduced to her friend’s siblings a few months ago. Gemma had been uncomfortable when they’d turned up at the office at Scotland yard unannounced. They’d been protective and nosy, wanting to know their younger sister was in safe hands. Somehow, they’d all been persuaded by them to go for a drink. Both men were very much like their sister. Strong, loyal, with a dirty sense of humour. They’d gone into the family business as hunters for hire. Gemma’s bloodline was famous in that line of work. Jasmine had been surprised to learn that her friend had declined the offer to join her siblings in a partnership; instead, she’d joined their team. It was another mystery surrounding Gemma. All of the team had them. Jasmine was aware of that. Like the rest of them, she had a past, yet she had a feeling some of her friends’ were darker than her own.

  “Even as adults, they’re obnoxious.” Gemma carried on with a playful scowl. “Anyway, I’m just glad I can’t see the things here like you do. I think that would be worse than just feeling watched all the time. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

  Jasmine blinked, twisting to meet her friend in surprise. “I am?”

  Tucking some frizzy curls behind her ears, Gemma smiled. “Yeah you are.”

  The admission brought warmth. Jasmine had strived to be as experienced and professional as this woman. Gemma was someone she looked up to and admired. To hear such praise was everything she’d been working for. It just proved to her more she was no longer the geeky, awkward recruit.

  “Do you want to tell me about Conall?”

  The huntress’s thick lashes swept down for a second, veiling her feelings at her friend’s soft, venturing question. “That fucking Irish vamp. He should know when to let go and stop hassling me.”

  Red haired, with a wealth of charm, the Vampiria assisted Eric on his cases. Since running into the males in Prague, both women had been plagued by them, one way or another.

  “He thinks there’s something between us.” Her misgivings were darkening the depth of her big doe eyes when they fluttered open. “A connection.”

  “And is there?”

  “I don’t do relationships. With the work we do, there’s no guarantee we’ll walk out of any assignment alive. I’d rather fuck my way through the male population than tie myself to someone who’ll have to bear the pain when I don’t come home one evening. End of story.”

  Jasmine understood the risks. Every time they were sent out on a mission, there was no assurance any of them would walk back out breathing. It was a danger they all recognised. She knew their team had been luckier than others in her department. They’d lost many good agents.

  Yet, even with all that, something in Gemma’s tone didn’t ring true. Conall had affected her more than she was letting on.

  “The Medium has agreed to come back this evening. I’ve arranged a spa night at one of the upmarket hotels for Caroline. Eric used his persuasion to convince her she deserved some pampering time. We should have several hours, tops, to get another séance under way without interruption,” Mark informed them quietly the next morning after breakfast. “Hopefully, this time, we can reach John and finally get some answers.”

  He’d waited until Caroline went back to her room. The whole meal had been tense. Everyone sensed something important was about to be imparted.

  Turning to Ellen, he gave her a long measured look. “Can we borrow your car? We didn’t have time to rent one.”

  Jasmine knew he’d wrestled with the idea of letting the other woman in on the plan. The fact she was going out of her way to help them had been a big factor. She’d reasoned with him that having her on their side would help if they needed Caroline distracted.

  The nanny’s eager expression darkened as she shook her head. “I had an accident in it a while back, and the front was completely written off. Caroline got rid of John’s right after his funeral.” As they heard her name being shouted by her employer from upstairs, she scrambled away from the breakfast table. “I better go and keep an eye on Tabitha.”

  The sound of metal clinking against wood drew everyone’s attention away from the nanny’s hurried escape. There on the surface was a set of keys directly before Eric. “You may use my rental car.”

  “You’ve got a Ferrari,” Gemma stated eagerly. She’d been eyeing the vampire’s vehicle, which has been parked out front, with avid interest since he arrived.

  “Indeed, I do.” Eric regarded her with wary amusement. “It has not gone unnoticed that you have been admiring it. If you wish to take it for a spin, all you need do is ask.”

  “Jasmine, you stay here with Fergus. Keep searching and logging everything you find. I want that Sumerian dagger found. If it’s the artefact John contacted me about, we need to find it.” Mark interrupted, snatching up the keys before scraping back his chair as he moved to stand. “Gemma, Eric, and I will go and have a chat with the local werewolf pack and see if they need assistance for tonight. It’s time to find out why they’re behaving so erratically. We don’t need feral wolves on the loose terrorising the city.”

  “You still think it could be the item were searching for effecting them?” Jasmine queried. “The dagger?”

  “I’m hoping I’m wrong, and it’s just the effects of the moon tonight, but we need to cover all bases.”

  “What about Della?”

  “We remain vigilant. That’s all we can do where she’s concerned. One crisis at a time.”

  “OK… by the way, has anyone seen Fergus?”

  “I think he was taking a shower before he came down. He still wasn’t feeling well,” Gemma told her eyeing the car keys as Mark tossed them from hand to hand.

  “May I speak with Jasmine first?”

  Eric’s quiet request to Mark was the last thing Jasmine expected.

  What did he want now? Was this another try at asking her out? Softening her up?

  He seemed to be dead set on driving her insane, not taking her hints she wasn’t interested.

  “That’s her decision.”

  Jasmine sighed. “Yes, okay,” she agreed, hating the speculative gleam in her boss’s hazel eyes.

  “You have ten minutes vamp. If your arse isn’t in the car by then, we’re leaving you behind,” Mark gave him a hard stare over the top of his glasses.

  Eric inclined his head in understanding. “Very well.”

  Standing awkwardly while the others left the room, Jasmine drew on her inner defences. Weariness was hounding her. A headache pulsed in her temples from lack of sleep.

  “Do not be nervous, Kitten,” the vampire soothed as he drew closer. “I am not about to bite you, unless, of course, that is something you desire me to do.”

  His presence stirred lust she thought she had under control.

  Remembering what it had felt like having his fangs buried deeply in her flesh, as he’d drunk her blood, also was not helping. It’d been beyond orgasmic. It was the reason why humans sought out a vampire’s bite. Why she had an addiction he knew nothing about. One he had given her without realising. A secret that she intended to keep hidden.

  They were alone again. Jasmine knew this was dangerous. Eric had a habit of preventing her from thinking clearly. The voice of caution was whispering in the back of her head.

  He was watching her intently. Eyes as bright as frozen sapphires mapped every inch of the expression she wore.

  “Stop crowding me.” Raising a hand, she t
ried to push him away. Jasmine’s confidence wavered, slipping into self-defence. She was determined not to show even a hint of weakness.

  Grasping her wrist gently, he trapped her hand against him with one large palm.

  “Do you still recall my hands pleasuring you as we fucked?” Eric asked, voice soft and husky. “No, not fucked, as we made love. I have been yours since the moment our eyes met back in Paris so long ago.”

  Jasmine froze. Why were they talking about this, now? Had he guessed at her feelings? Figured out she loved him? Denial cried out from her fractured heart. She’d barely been able to piece it back together over these last few months. It was imperfect and still fragile.

  Taking advantage of her stillness, Eric slid her hand slowly up his chest until it was above the steady beating of his own. “This beats for you, now. You have stolen my ice, cracked through the armour I have lived beneath for countless centuries. Now you fill the empty place that remains.”

  His words made her breath stutter for one split second. Confused, Jasmine wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “Eric, what are you saying?”

  “I was trying to be poetic. For once I am finding myself at a loss to articulate what I am trying to say. I want my lips to be the first thing you touch in the morning and my name the last thing you think of at night.” He inhaled a deep, shaky breath, which was out of character. As if he was nervous. “I love you, Jasmine Hunter.”

  No. No. How could he? Why would he be so cruel?

  Eric’s words were whirling in her head. He loved her? Was this true or just another game? Eric didn’t feel. How could he love her? He was as unfeeling as stone.

  Jasmine did the only thing she could think of. Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned and ran.

  All the walls she’d had built to keep him out were shattering. Breaking down by one simple word. Blinking back tears, she stumbled up the stairs. It couldn’t be true. Another deception. Back in Prague, she’d been eager to have his love before he’d turned on her.

  Her mind and heart were at war. It was a fight between what she knew and how she felt. She still loved Eric. It was there in the way her heart missed a beat every time he came close. Yet, he’d betrayed her. Was it worth the risk of pain if he rejected her again? Was he saying this because he knew of her relationship with Asier?

  Charging up the stairs, she raced for the safety of her bedroom.

  Eric stood staring after Jasmine in astonishment. That hadn’t gone as he’d imagined. She had looked..stunned. Then wariness had swiftly drawn across her features. He suspected that she didn’t believe his words.

  Distractedly, he raked his hand through his short, tousled, black hair in frustration. Perhaps he’d been too hasty. Jasmine obviously hadn’t been ready to hear such a thing. It had all happened in a rush. Yet, he hadn’t been able to contain his feelings any longer. He wanted to sing it from the roof tops. Every time he saw her, there was a symphony playing in his head. Confessing his reason for being there had seemed like the logical answer to get her to open up.

  His goal was so close, yet Jasmine was still a million miles away from where he wanted them to be. There had been no one before her. His heart had always been void of such emotion. Now, love filled him, poured unhindered for this woman. Eric was tempted to go after her. The resounding slam of a door above swerved him from that decision.

  His approach had obviously been wrong. What she needed was time to digest what he’d divulged to her. Giving her opportunity to think was the rational answer. She was human after all. They were emotional creatures.

  Eric straightened up with resolve. He’d accompany the others as planned then return to Jasmine.

  Coaxing her to dinner would be his next step. Something he planned for from the start. Now, she knew the true reason why he was here. There would be no mistakes this time. Jasmine Hunter would be his. She would stay in his bed for good.

  Moving on swift feet, he made his way through the museum towards the front door. The detective and Gemma were no doubt waiting. He couldn’t let this chance to aid them slip through his fingers. Maintaining his position on the team was imperative.

  As Eric passed the room where he and Jasmine had encountered the ghost the first day, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. A feeling of unease swept over him so strongly his steps faltered.

  Something was here. Whatever it was, he didn’t have the ability to see it, but every one of his vampiric senses sharpened with awareness. A ghost? Was one of the spirits trying to make contact or had it merely taken an interest in him? Was it letting its presence be known?

  Cocking his head, Eric listened intently. Nothing was out of place. Brows dipping in concentration, he ducked into the room, scanning his surroundings.

  The door to the hidden room still lay open. Everything looked undisturbed. Gaze settling on an open exhibit, he experienced a frisson of unfamiliar fear.

  Missing from its glass encasing was the silver imbued coffin. It was the only object in the museum that made him experience emotions he’d rather not. The pain and suffering of the vampires who’d been condemned to the casket was something he could only imagine. Such things should be destroyed, not kept for amusement and entertainment. He’d already decided to acquire the piece. Once it was his, he’d have it harmlessly melted down.

  Something was wrong. They were all under strict instructions not to touch anything until every item had been logged. Eric knew full well this room was yet to be inspected properly.

  Backing into the hallway, a soft laugh stopped him in his tracks.

  “I thought you were cleverer than that,” The disembodied female voice taunted.

  Swivelling, Eric searched for the source but came up empty. “Show yourself.”

  “Your sins are immeasurable. Not even atonement will wipe the slate clean. You’re an abomination that should be exterminated along with the rest of your kind.”

  The presence’s voice was dripping with hatred and disgust.

  “I take it you are the angel Jasmine has been dreaming about?”

  A gloom creeping in the light from the overhead lighting melted away, leaving the museum in solid darkness.

  Eyes adjusting, Eric’s night vision cut through the black with ease. Whatever he was dealing with, it was a logical guess it knew he was a vampire. So why did it think he would be incapacitated by the lack of light?

  A spine-chilling growl was the answer to his silent question.

  Slinking from one end of the corridor, a huge canine form prowled towards him with intent. Amber eyes bright, the werewolf raised its muzzle to sniff at the air.

  How had it gotten past his keen senses? Eric hid his shock under an impassive mask of coldness. It should never have happened. A lapse like this could cost him his life, and since arriving here, it had happened more than once. Muscles tensing, he prepared himself mentally and physically for the coming onslaught. He’d dealt with their kind before. Wolves were always a worthy opponent. With the red moon rising tonight, its strength would be increasing. Feral instincts kicking in, a battle between them would take all of Eric’s cunning and skill to win.

  A second growl behind him threw off his concentration. Before he even had time to turn, heavy clawed paws were bearing down on his shoulders.

  Hitting the floor with the force, he found himself pinned. Rolling to his left, he dislodged the creature before it had a chance to use its full weight to keep him trapped.

  Eric had to warn the others. Enemies were upon them, and the rest of the team were unaware. Jasmine would be in danger. That single thought spurred him on. Bringing his knee up to his chest, he brought his foot down onto the werewolf’s snout.

  A snarl was its response as it jerked back from the blow.

  Another pair of jaws clamped onto Eric’s leg, teeth sinking deeply into the flesh beneath his tailored trousers.

  Hissing, his fangs elongated as he bared them in anger. Pain throbbed up his thigh, but he chose to ignore it. He’d trained for centuries for co
mbat, knew that one miscalculation could cost him it all.

  Ice rising in his veins, he called on his wintry powers. Eric released a barrage of frozen shards from his hands. Driving it into the beast’s eyes the stinging blast momentarily confused it.

  Releasing it’s hold, it turned its head to protect itself.

  Eric used that to his advantage and scooted backwards along the corridor, leaving a red smear on the floor in his wake. The wound inflicted was already healing, but he wouldn’t risk more damage. Concentrating, he sent a layer of frost over the surfaces closest to him. Now slippery, it would make it harder to tread.

  He spied a broad sword in one of the glass exhibits and decisively reached for the front. Breaking the glass easily, his fingers curled around the hilt. The blade lacked the sharp perfection it had once held, but the metal would still slice through flesh with enough force.

  Silver would bring his foes permanently down, that or a fatal injury severing the spine in such a way it couldn’t be healed. Eric was familiar with both options. He’d used them many times in the past.

  “You’re all slaves to the moon. You feel it’s pull even though you deny it. Primitive, barbaric, you’re nothing but filthy animals when you peel away the layers,” the feminine voice whispered.

  Eric’s mind spun furiously over the facts he knew. The angel was after a specific target. Was he the assassin’s mark? From all of Marks accounts, they removed obstacles that risked the future of the planet. What had he done or was he going to do to put him in their cross hairs? If this was true, he’d brought danger to Jasmine unintentionally.

  Eric’s train of thought was shattered as a streak of grey sped towards him. Raising his weapon, he brought it down just in time to prevent the beast’s attack.

  With a yelp, the wolf fell sideways. With their strength enhanced by the imminent red moon, it did little more than stun it.

  The small victory was short lived. A chorus of low rumbles sent shock cascading through Eric. Eyes glowing orange, a dozen werewolves, all enhanced by the approach of the rays of the lunar light, slunk towards him in the darkness. This was a turn of events he hadn’t foreseen. Before he could gather his wits, a savage mouth clamped around his wrist. Burying teeth mercilessly into his flesh, the beast used its weight at the same time to propel Eric backwards. Losing his footing, he stumbled. Hard, unforgiving metal slammed into his back as they fell between two exhibits. A clawed paw pried the sword, still clutched, from his hand free. Looming over him, the shifted werewolf stood above him on it’s muscular, furred haunches.