Blood Moon Rising

by Claire Marta

  “Granddad's special place?”

  At the sound of the child’s quiet voice, Jasmine looked at her. Tabitha was staring up at her with an earnest teary expression. Her tiny hand was clutched in a fist, which Jasmine had no doubt held the wolfsbane talisman safely.

  “Yes, honey.” Crouching down, she gave her a reassuring smile. “Do you know where it is? Somewhere he kept all his...treasure?”

  “Like a pirate?”

  “Yes, exactly like that.”

  “In the sitting room. The big ugly clock with the funny flower in the middle.”

  “What about it?”

  “It opens a door.” Tugging a chain up around her neck, which had been hidden by the top of her night dress, she offered it to Jasmine. A key was attached.

  “That has to be it.” Taking the object, Jasmine looped it over her head, so it hung down between her breasts. “Will you two be okay while I check it out? Maybe you can find Ellen?”

  “You no worry. Salt circle keeps out the ghosts. I have things to keep the wolves at bay. Find Dagger. I remove its power with spell. My family clever and strong.” Fumbling in a worn leather bag, which sat on the kitchen table, the old woman fished out a small clear pot. “Here. Make circle to keep out the evil.”

  Accepting it Jasmine glanced down at the white granules within. Would salt really work? At this point, she had to believe it would.

  Slinking along the corridor and armed with a frying pan, Jasmine kept everything crossed that the werewolves Della had on guard duty were all outside. She’d confirmed with a glance from the kitchen window they were surrounding the building. Huge, shadowy figures merged with the night.

  The angel was hell-bent on not letting them escape this fun house of horrors. Whatever she had in store, it was yet to come. With an army of wolves at her beck and call, it would be deadly for all of them. Jasmine’s thoughts bounced briefly to her friends. They all knew how to take care of themselves. Mark was a seasoned detective with hundreds of cases under his belt. Gemma had hunted plenty of shifters in her time. And Eric? He was perfectly capable of looking after himself she reasoned, unable to curb the tiny pang of concern for the vampire.

  Making her way into the sitting room, she paused for a moment to catch her bearings. The room was in darkness. Silence was thick without the ticking from the obsessive collection of clocks, which crammed every wall and surface of the place. It had been like the heartbeat of the place. Now, everything lay silent and cold.

  Edging closer, eyes adjusted to the dimness, Jasmine reached out with her free hand. Smooth, cool metal met her fingers. She knew from spotting it in the day the clock was old. Fashioned to look like a giant daisy, broad, chunky petals had been perfectly crafted. At the centre lay the mechanism that had worked the clock.

  Feeling along the border of the bottom two, Jasmine searched for a keyhole. Tabitha had instructed her where it lay. When her fingertips connected with a dip, she let out a tiny sound of success. She knew she had to work fast. There was no guarantee how long she’d remain undiscovered.

  Lifting the key, she carefully fit it inside the lock and turned it with a click. The air shifted.

  Taking a startled step backwards, Jasmine watched in amazement as the wall the clock rested on swung open. A passageway was revealed beyond. Sloping down, the path looked like it led beneath the museum. A basement?

  Cautiously, she approached the entrance. Light lay further down. Had it been activated when the machinery had been triggered? As far as she was aware, she had the only key.

  It was now or never. Time was trickling by, and Jasmine couldn’t waste anymore of it. Gathering her courage, she walked across the threshold. She held her breath, hoping to God there were no booby traps. Knowing her luck, though, she’d probably trigger something.

  Treading carefully, it felt like eternity before she reached the end of the passage without incident. Frying pan raised and ready to strike, she studied her surroundings. Stark bright lights above revealed a long narrow room. Much like above, it held glass exhibits housing artefacts and oddities. A door was at the end, and to her left, further up, another corridor branched away. Words had been written across the walls.

  She is coming.

  Over and over the repetition of the same sentence had been painstakingly scribbled. No inch of the surfaces had been spared.

  Jasmine could see where it had started. Neat and clear, as it went on, the hand writing had descended into a desperate insane scrawl. It was if the owner had gone mad.

  “The professor knew what was coming,” Della whispered, making her jump. “Saw the visions you see, too, and instead of doing the right thing, he ended his own miserable existence.”

  Now Jasmine knew the reason why Tabitha’s grandfather had killed himself. This angel must have driven him over the edge. How long had she been hounding him? It was depraved and monstrous. She was not angelic. No, she was far more demonic.

  Spinning in a circle, frying pan at the ready, she did a quick sweep but found herself alone. “Did you kill Caroline?” It was a question, she was desperate for the answer to.

  “She took her own life. Swallowed the pills herself with a little convincing in her ear. Vain and weak like her father, her will was feeble. In your case, all I could do was ensure you sleep through the day until my plans were in motion without the interference you’re so fond of causing. You still have time to end all this before anyone else dies needlessly.”

  “I’m not going to hurt Tabitha.” Attention bouncing between the door and the hallway, Jasmine decided to check the door first. Passing each case, she searched desperately for the dagger. Gold and jewel encrusted, she knew it wasn’t going to be hard to miss. This had to be where the professor kept his priceless items.

  “One fragile life to save billions. One death to stop a destruction of prophecy,” the angel insisted.

  Jasmine ignored her. Della couldn’t justify her actions to her. There was no way she’d stand back and let her murder a child in cold blood.

  Without warning, the room around her closed in, forcing her to inch her body backwards. The walls began to shimmer. Bulging outwards, they stretched tightly as if trying to birth something monstrous in between. It squirmed and writhed, a newborn fighting to breach the confines of its mother’s womb.

  “What’s happening?” Jasmine couldn’t believe her eyes. The horrific images burned themselves into her brain. Things she’d never be able to erase. Horror froze her in place, sheer terror.

  “The veil is thin with the red moon so high. Things between worlds that you have no idea exist are visible. As of now, I can manipulate it to suit my needs.”

  Murky black, the insidious darkness, which had taken a hold of the place, surrounded Jasmine. It felt like drowning. Grasping her throat, she fought against the sensation, struggling to breath. Heart hammering against her ribs, black spots danced before her eyes. Oxygen deprivation wouldn’t take long. She’d be unconscious before she knew it. Grip loosening, the frying pan she’d been wielding as a weapon slipped from her hand.

  A roar rose up from nowhere. It echoed off the walls with a strength that sent the display cases rattling. Figures slunk from the corners. Hand in hand, they moved in a chain link like paper dolls connected. The ghosts stretched wide their empty hungry mouths. Again, the sound came louder, this time.

  Around Jasmine, glass exploded, shattering shards of sharp jagged pieces over the floor. Heaving in a ragged breath, she coughed as the pressure around her neck vanished as quickly as it had started. Della’s scream of outrage was enough to get her feet moving. Staggering, she aimed for the closed door with an instinctual need to flee.

  Hand grasping the cold metal handle, she thrust it open and raced inside slamming it shut behind her. On inspection, Jasmine found no lock to secure it. A laugh bubbled from between her lips as panic overwhelmed her. A bolt or padlock wouldn’t keep the angel out. She didn’t appear to be corporeal. There was no way to prevent her from trying to smother her again.


  Lights flickering above her, Jasmine sensed the presence of the ghosts. They’d come to her aid. Protected her. If anyone had a chance at stopping Della, it was them.

  “If you want Della out of your home, then show me what needs to be done to do that.” Jasmine knew they could hear her. Their minds pressed in around her own, bringing with it a bout of claustrophobia. Battling it back, she tried to regulate her breathing. Adrenalin was flying through her veins, and she could hear her own pulse banging in her ears.

  The cabinets around her rattled violently. It was with a power that wasn’t of this world.

  Turning in a circle, Jasmine caught sight of a reflection. Hand in hand, the ghostly children stood, barring the door behind her. Black pitiless eyes boring into her own, they both raised a hand pointing to an exhibit in front of her. They were going to help. Jasmine sagged in relief. Unfortunately, she knew she couldn’t let her guard down.

  A howl pierced the silence. Jasmine felt her heart leap into her mouth. Della must have summoned the werewolves. With the spectres keeping her busy, she’d called upon her enslaved minions.

  Hand shaking, Jasmine pulled the pot of salt out of her pocket and made a quick salt circle in the centre of the room. It wouldn’t work against wolves, but it might just keep Della from using her abilities on her if she got through Jasmine’s allies.

  Her ears strained for the sound of claws on wood, with a sense of growing panic. Running to the display case, she fumbled with the lock trying not to hyperventilate. Inside on a bed of black velvet, the Sumerian dagger lay nestled. It was just as beautiful and ornate as the photo she’d seen. Gold made up the handle; precious jewels gleamed within the hilt. It had to be worth a fortune. Around her, the ghostly realm leaked through the cracks between the world she knew and what she could sense on the other side of the veil. More than one place trying to occupy the same space. Whatever lived on the other side was trying to get out. Their shrieks were bloodcurdling.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jasmine chanted, trying to force the lock open finding it wouldn’t budge.

  The sound of wood splintering apart made Jasmine flinch. It looked like the time the ghosts had given her had run out. Feral, wild shifter energy washed over her senses. She was no longer alone.

  A low warning growl came from behind her. Taking a deep breath, she stayed focused on her task. She jiggled the lock again, but the fucking thing wouldn’t budge.

  One handed, she yanked her dress she was wearing over her head before wrapping it around her arm. It left her standing in her underwear and more vulnerable, but she had little choice.

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Jasmine knew the werewolf was close. It was getting ready to strike. Its excitement was a palpable force in the room.

  Raising her arm, she brought it down hard smashing the glass of the display case. Pain shot up her arm. The adrenaline, though, which was pumping through her system, kept her focused.

  Plunging her other hand through the wreckage, she felt the slice of glass cutting her fingers. Bloody and stinging, she curled them around the hilt of the dagger. It was sticky and smeared in red.

  Something moved behind her. It was a split second shifting in the air. Without hesitation Jasmine dived to her left.

  A scream left her lips, as claw tips raked the top of her shoulder. They pierced her flesh, shredding the delicate strap of her bra. Then, they were gone.

  Jasmine had been fortunate to miss the full blow. Next time, she might not be so quick. Jaws would join the claws.

  Tightening her grip on the weapon, she threw aside her bundled up dress and made a dash for the door.

  Long and lean, another beast blocked her escape, its teeth bared and ears pressed back. Its gaze was intent and bright with a need to kill.

  It wasn’t Fergus.

  Jasmine was used to seeing his lupin form. It had to be Tamás, the housekeeper’s son. The other one who’d slashed her was also not her teammate.

  Stumbling back, Jasmine stood on trembling legs. It would only take seconds for them to rip her apart between them. She shuddered at the thought of their teeth slicing her flesh. What would kill her first? Blood loss or being torn limb from limb?

  Raising the dagger, she held it ready to defend herself. “Good doggie. Stay..sit…roll over?”

  “Give it to me.” Shambling through the entrance, Caroline’s walking corpse lumbered towards her. Hand out, her fingers were twisted into a claw. Bloodless, paper-white, her skin was darkening in places already rotting.

  Jasmine gagged on the stench. Putrid, rancid, the rate of decay was taking its toll on the frail meat puppet. How long would Della be able to keep it functioning?

  “No.” Shuffling further back, Jasmine kept her gaze locked on the beasts at Caroline’s side. She recognised Fergus. Tongue hanging out, he stared up at her with the eyes of a stranger.

  “Then, I’ll let your friend tear you apart.”

  “How are you controlling them?” Jasmine asked, trying to buy time. She already knew it was the piece of jewellery the walking corpse had around her neck. It hung loosely on a chain by a small metal loop. Embedded in the heart of worn metal, a blue gem throbbed and glowed.

  Jasmine could feel it’s power. It spiralled around her thick and fast. A need to control and master. It was so potent she had to shake herself mentally to stop herself getting distracted. It was little wonder the shifters hadn’t been able to resist its pull.

  Cocking her head to the side, Caroline smiled sinisterly. “The pendant is a powerful talisman. It was created by a wizard centuries ago to control the beasts. So many artefacts housed under one roof creates such a cocktail of energy that makes anything possible. Why do you think the barrier is thinner here than anywhere else on Earth?”

  It was eerie hearing Della’s voice coming from the dead woman’s lips. Was she inside the shell or merely controlling it from the outside?

  “You’re hurting innocent beings to fulfil some fucked up orders,” Why couldn’t the angel see how wrong this was?

  “Collateral damage.”

  “Why the hell do you want this thing anyway? What’s so special?”

  “It’s deadly. A magical item that can steal its victim’s soul when sacrificed to the blade. A way to ensure nothing is left of my prey.”

  Jasmine’s attention wavered to the object in her hand in dismay. Using it would condemn anyone she stabbed to losing their soul. It was something Jasmine refused to do unless it came to it. The shifters were being controlled against their will. Their actions not their own. It was no wonder this deranged angel was after it.

  Around them, reality continued to shift. A vast, coiling leviathan of endless dimensions and possibilities trying to escape the barrier that held them all in check. Living beings occupied each one. Were they aware of what was happening? Could they see what Jasmine was witnessing on their side? Pain radiated around her skull. The enormity of it all was something she was struggling to cope with.

  Deep threatening growls rumbled from the giant wolves’ throats as they padded closer. There were three of them, now. Large, dangerous, thirsting for blood, they moved like a coordinated pack.

  She might be strong and fast thanks to the Italian Vampire Master who trained her, but even Jasmine stood no chance against them.

  “All right. I’ll give it to you,” she conceded, her attention dipping to the salt circle she had left across the room.

  “Bring it to me.”

  Steadying her nerves, she took a step towards the woman. Focusing on inner control, she let her muscles relax and her mind empty. Everything hinged on what Asier had taught her. Now was the time to put things into practise.

  With one quick movement, Jasmine sliced the blade of the dagger across Caroline’s exposed wrist. Even though she was dead blood still gushed from the deep clean wound, flowing to the floor. Exactly what Jasmine had prayed for.

  Heads turning, the beasts pinned their gazes on the crimson fluid.

  It was al
l the distraction Jasmine needed. Lunging forwards, she snatched the pendant from around Caroline’s neck. The chain broke easily.

  “No!” Screeching, the walking corpse clasped a hand to the ripped flesh. It was just as Jasmine had hoped. Instinct kicked in, overriding the sway of the pendant’s influence.

  Snapping jaws, the shifters attacked. Massive paws swinging they brought Caroline tumbling down. The sound of bones breaking and skin ripping rent the air.

  She was already dead. Soulless. Jasmine had taken the chance, and it’d paid off. Staring at the piece of jewellery in her hand, she gave it a shake. How the fuck did you turn the thing on and off? An incantation? A ritual?

  Something hit her hard, sending the air from her lungs. Pain detonated through her bare hip. Jasmine screamed, her body smacking the wooden floor. Head spinning for a moment, she thought she might pass out. Somehow, she managed to hang onto the dagger and the pendant. Assessing herself shakily, she realised she’d been slammed by a paw. If claws had been involved, she knew the blow would’ve been fatal. She was lucky it hadn’t broken her pelvis.

  In a blur, a form was flung away from her, its muscular frame hitting the wall with a crack. The werewolves were fighting among themselves for supremacy. They would only be occupied for so long. Once they had established an alpha, Jasmine new they’d come for her next.

  A form appeared not far from where she was laying. The boy ghost beckoned to her with urgency. His desperation was obvious as he motioned for her to come.

  Hissing with agony, Jasmine crawled towards the salt circle. She didn’t question why. Whatever was driving the spirit, she clung to the thread of certainty it was what she needed to do.

  An angry disembodied shriek rose around her, but she ignored it. She was so fucking close to her goal. Dragging herself half way across the threshold, she squealed when something grasped her trainer.

  Jasmine looked back to find one of the wolves with its jaws clamped around the material. Its teeth were gnawing at it like a chew toy.