by Claire Marta
Thrown across the room by the shock wave, Della hit the crevasse between worlds. Excited arms reached out in welcome. Entwining around her limbs, they hauled her through the gap. Panic washed over the assassin’s expression. Pure undiluted terror.
“Nooo.” Her screech was chilling. “I cannot fail!” Struggling wildly, she didn’t have the strength to save herself from the blue-skinned beings.
Whatever they were, they were hungry and eager. More slithered through the hole, yanking and tugging to drag the angel through. Clawing at the sides, Della tried to save herself to no avail. The dagger still clutched in her hand, she was wrenched within. Her expression twisted with insanity.
“We have to seal it. Can we seal it?” Jasmine asked in a shaky voice. The gateway still lay open. If something could be taken through Jasmine was damn sure things could get out. Some inner instinct warned her letting the beings beyond free in their world wouldn’t be a good idea.
Shapes gathered within the landscape. Black silhouettes of long-limbed things that moved oddly. They were all moving towards the entrance.
Zooming to guard the door, the ghosts congregated, hands up and barring the way.
Gesturing soundlessly, the children looked up at her with gaunt soulless eyes. They appeared to be waiting.
“Do something, Jaz,” Fergus called, now, in his human form. “If that purple-haired bitch was the source of this, why didn’t it finish when she was taken? Can you close the fucking thing?”
“If I knew the answers to those questions, do you think this portal would still be active?”
“Visualise what you want to happen. Maybe that will help. I know you’ve been practising that shit with Twitch,” he snapped back. “Stop doubting yourself and start doing it because if you don’t, it won’t just be us that’s screwed.”
“It’s not that simple,” Jasmine responded in frustration. Thrusting a hand through her short red hair, she concentrated on the magical ebb and flow. Twitch had incantations. She had none of those. No training in the mystic arts. No proper schooling in how to control these new powers. It was all untried and basic. She felt like a child struggling to swim. Last time anything like this happened, she’d had Twitch and intuition to guide her.
Clapping their hands, the apparitions pointed towards the gaping tear between realities. The inhabitants were already at the opening. Bodies heaved and pushed together as they battled to crawl free. It was disorder. Blue skinned, they had no faces, only cavernous mouths with rows of razor-sharp teeth.
“Calm your tits, Jazzy,” Jasmine muttered to herself, wishing Twitch was with them now. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere, though. The techno mage wasn’t about to appear out of thin air. Her mind was in chaos. What if this was it? The event Della had been sent to stop from happening? What if the apocalypse was now unfolding before their eyes.
Asier would be disappointed. That thought stuck. He’d spent months training her and teaching her discipline. One assignment and everything she’d learnt was in ruins. Jasmine could almost taste the Italian Master Vampire’s dissatisfaction. She’d definitely feel it on her arse when he spanked her to punish her for her failure. That’s even if they survived the bedlam. Straightening up her shoulders, she stood tall. She needed to pull her shit together.
“Here.”
Accepting the frying pan Fergus shoved into her arms, she sprinted forward slamming it into a blue hairless head. The creature reared back. Losing its balance, it fell taking some of its friends with it.
Grabbing a candelabra, Fergus picked off anything that tried to poke its fleshy head through the breach.
Swinging her gaze around, Jasmine made sure Tabitha was safe. The girl was curled under a solid wooden table. The spectral children were with her. Hovering before the table, they were watching them solemnly.
If she didn’t do something soon, Jasmine was sure they’d be joining their ranks.
She focused inwards. Threads of magic swarmed throughout the room, invisible to the naked eye. Again, she mentally reached for it. Mouth set in a hard line, she invited it to fill her. Colour erupted behind her eyelids. Flood gates open, it stormed within her every cell from her head right down to her toes. Doubling over, the tang of blood met Jasmine’s tongue. Overwhelmed, she hadn’t realised she’d bitten the inside of her cheek. Pain was replaced with a burst of headiness that rushed through her veins. It was unstable, bewitching, catapulting Jasmine into a confidence she’d never experienced before.
Light pulsed from her fingertips. Raising her hand, she watched it flicker from green to red, then, on to blue and yellow. She was only vaguely aware of Fergus shouting. Something about getting her head out of her arse and preventing the tear from getting any bigger.
Holding her hand out, she rested it against the throbbing translucent membrane. It was warm to the touch. Beneath her palm, it pulsed with a heartbeat. It was alive. Did that mean it was aware? Have a sentient consciousness? Jasmine pushed the knowledge aside. She didn’t want to think of it as something living. It was the centre of chaos. Needed to be contained.
Standing ridgid, it took all her will to conduct the power inhabiting her body through the dense, thick layers. It shuddered, shrinking.
A mind prodded the borders of Jasmine’s own as she continued her task. Alien, imposing, its complexity was so staggering it made her pause. It didn’t communicate with words. Emotions were its way of expression. She could feel its pain; the gash was a wound and not intentional. The fortifications between realities were governed by something her human brain couldn’t comprehend, but she still understood its importance.
“Please don’t fight against me; let me help you,” Jasmine urged. “All I want to do is to put things right.”
A hum vibrated up her arm. An answer. Yes.
Amidst her communing, Jasmine heard screams. Glancing up, she found the blue skinned monsters, still trying to claw their way through, held back by a force-field. Writhing, teeming, they were in a frenzy.
Gently as she could, Jasmine used the magic that crowded the museum to heal the rift. She relied on intuition to guide her. Light engulfed the fissure. It was push and pull. Her desire to ease and restore versus the ravenous creatures on the other side. They were a perfect match for the dagger. Harboured the same gluttony. Hunger. Nothing would ever satisfy them. It was fitting that the weapon was now in their dimension along with the angel assassin.
As if conjured up by her thoughts, Della hurled herself at the threshold from Jasmine’s left. Purple hair loose and rumpled around her face, it was streaked with crimson. Teeth marks marred her flesh.
The scream that left her was chilling.
Unlike the monstrosities that scrambled to break through, she had no problem dragging her bedraggled upper half through the shrinking hole. Slashing the dagger, it was aimed at Jasmine’s throat.
Jerking back, Jasmine felt the whoosh of air barely inches from her skin. The blade undulated in a fevered hysteria. Its need was escalating, driven on by the new world it had slipped into.
Lips curled in twisted malevolence, the angel thrust at her again. She was consumed. Possessed by its will. Once the orchestrater of sinister events she was now the puppet.
Swinging the frying pan in her hand up, Jasmine caught Della in the head with a direct blow.
Broken, shredded, black wings sprang wide. The assassin lost her footing. Crying out, her arm waggled in the air. Rushing up, the blue skinned beings sank their claws into the leathery appendages. Teeth gnashing, they fell upon her in a ravenous fury.
Trying to save herself, Della released the dagger. The bejewelled handle glittered in the alien light, tumbling into the anarchy of the landscape.
Weaving the last of the filaments, her hands shaking, Jasmine watched as the barrier solidified. The friction abating the lines crossing the myriad of worlds was once more back on track.
Gratitude. Thanks. The emotions lingered from the primordial being caressing her mind before they faded with the last of th
e breach. Shoulders slumping, Jasmine released a shaky breath. She was exhausted.
“That was cutting it close,” Fergus growled. He was covering his manhood with the pair of jeans he’d discarded to change. Using them as a shield, he was hiding his groin from Tabitha. “Kid can you turn around for a second.”
Peeping from her hiding place, the girl complied, giving him an odd look. The broken pendant that had controlled the shifters was clutched in her hand. Although the metal was still in perfect condition, the gem at it’s centre was now a lifeless black rock. The ghosts were nowhere to be seen. Mission complete, they’d simply vanished, returning to haunt the building.
Jasmine’s gaze swung to the blood still running in rivulets from Fergus’s muscled bicep. “Are you all right? You’re bleeding.”
He grimaced. “It’s where the angel bitch cut me. It hurts worse than silver, and I don’t understand why it’s not healing.” Hauling his legs into the jeans, he pulled them up buttoning them quickly to hide his modesty. Normally, he didn’t care about his nakedness. Jasmine could see, though, he didn’t want to traumatise Tabitha anymore than she was. She could see a whole lot of therapy in the child’s future.
“Do you think Della’s really gone?”
An ironic smile played across the werewolf’s mouth at Jasmine’s worried question. “Nothing’s ever certain, but I hope to fuck they’ve eaten her…whatever those things on the other side were.”
Spying her bunched up dress where she’d dumped it, Jasmine knelt to retrieve it. Slithers of glass were sprinkled among the material. The garment itself was ruined. Ripped and slashed, it wouldn’t be wearable again. Groping in the pocket, she retrieved her smart phone and was relieved to find it intact. Thumbing the home screen open, three missed calls from Asier awaited her. It looked like the vamp had been trying to get in contact for the last thirty minutes. He’d left multiple text messages asking if she was okay. It was almost as if he’d sensed she was in danger. Typing a quick message, she assured him she was fine. There was no need to worry him now. Later, when everything was sorted out, she’d phone him and reassure him she was out of a life-threatening situation.
Running footsteps abruptly echoed up the hall. A moment later, Mark and Gemma appeared in the door.
“Sorry, we’re late.” Mark panted. “We got waylaid by wolves. We’ve been battling our way back from the Budapest pack’s compound for hours. Are you all, okay? We could see the vortex of dark clouds above the house from miles away! Some kind of barrier was keeping us out.”
“Fuck, what happened to you?” Gemma asked, taking in her bloodied and battered appearance. “And why are you in your underwear?”
“I had to use my dress to stop myself getting sliced when I broke open one of the exhibits. I destroyed a necklace controlling the werewolves,” Jasmine responded tiredly. “That ceremonial dagger was the weapon of mass destruction we we’re looking for.”
Mark nodded his approval, looking around expectantly. “Where is it, now?”
“Hell, or limbo, or wherever the fuck Della got her arse dragged into. Ellen is also now a werewolf. Oh, and this all happened because Della thought I started the end of the world. I’ve seriously seen things tonight that can never be unseen!”
Mark’s expression darkened. Instead of replying or questioning her as Jasmine expected, he moved to check on Tabitha and an unconscious Ellen.
“Fergus, how the fuck are you in human form, right now? The blood moon is still out.”
The wolf shrugged at Gemma while examining the cut on his arm, which still bled freely. “I think Jaz had something to do with it. Somehow, I was able to change back and not be consumed by the blood moon like I was when it rose. It’s as if she willed it. Why the hell hasn’t this healed yet?”
Gemma shot Jasmine a weird look. “You’re preventing him from shifting.” Sliding out a pocket knife from her jean shorts, she cut a strip of material from her t-shirt. “Here let me bind it.”
Fergus grunted when she bound it round his bicep, securing it firmly.
“It’s probably a residue of the pendant before it was destroyed. I was holding it for quite a while.” It was the most likely scenario Jasmine reasoned. Particles of magic were still soaking through her skin right into the core of her bones. It left a buzz running through her blood stream. She was amazed she wasn’t experiencing a high as she had the last time she’d conducted so much.
“Oh my god where are my clothes? Did someone roofie me? What the hell is going on?” The sound of Ellen’s alarmed voice interrupted any more conversation. Sitting up, her cheeks were cherry red as she did her best to cover her nudity with her hands.
Snatching up a table cloth, Mark quickly freed it from the objects on top of it. “Ellen, you need to keep calm.”
“Are you crazy? Is...is that Caroline over there?” Eyes wide, she huddled in the material when he wrapped it around her shoulders. Messy and loose, her hair hung down around her freckled face.
The corpse lay in a congealing puddle of crimson. Innards were strewn everywhere. Guts mixed with lumps of flesh and what was left of a hand were the closest to where they were standing. Teeth marks decorated the mutilated parts. It was obvious it had been an animal attack.
“Yes, she tried to kill us. Although, she was already dead at the time,” Jasmine answered drily. It didn’t look good. Two dead bodies in the room, with a third upstairs, they had a lot of explaining to do to the nanny. Her life had just changed in a massive way, and she wasn’t even aware of it. Not yet. They didn’t need her hysterical.
“She’s...why is she in pieces? And isn’t that Tamás…oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“You might be feeling nausea from your first kill,” Fergus explained helpfully. He’d moved to stand next to Tabitha. Crouched down next to her, she was showing him the object that had enslaved all the werewolves. “It can happen to new wolves. It will settle down in an hour or two.”
The child’s lack of emotion was disturbing. She had withdrawn inside herself further. Snuggling up to Fergus, she seemed to have chosen him as her new protector.
“I’m sorry what?” The nanny asked faintly. Her expression was a cross between wanting to throw up or pass out. It looked like she hadn’t quite decided. “I need my glasses. Has anyone seen them?”
“We have a lot of explaining to do.” Mark scanned the untidiness around them. “But you aren’t alone in this. Our department will take care of both you and Tabitha from now on. That’s a promise.”
Soft catchy music began to play. Feeling in his pocket, the detective fished out his smart phone. “Twitch?..hang on, let me put you on speaker phone.”
Jasmine’s eyed it with apprehension. What was he doing, phoning now? Had something happened?
“What the fuck is going on?” The techno mage groused, his familiar voice filling the room. “My shit storm senses are tingling, and knowing you guys, you’re at the centre of it all.”
“What are you a Jedi Master, now?” Fergus joked.
Twitch hummed. “A rupture in the space time barrier is kind of a big thing. If you’re dicking around with forces like that, it draws attention on an epic scale. I need to know how bad it is.” His serious tone was out of character.
“It’s sealed,” Mark assured him quickly.
A gusty sigh sounded down the line. “Thank fuck for that. Trust me; a permanent breach is something we don’t ever want to deal with!”
Jasmine's lips quirked up in a smile at the relief in her cousin's tone. The mage always had a way of lightening the mood.
As they trooped from the hidden cellar, Jasmine observed her friends.
Fergus would need a female companion. Changing for such a long period of time left his sex drive in high gear. He needed to fuck out the excess energy the transformation left. It happened every time.
His eyes were riveted on Gemma and Ellen.
The huntress kept sending fleeting glances his way. A parting of her lips, the way her eyes dar
kened slightly as they met his. It looked like he had found his bed partner for the rest of the night. She and the wolf had an on and off thing between them anyway.
The nanny, on the other hand, was confused. She’s complained of feeling horny and a whole host of other sensations she was worried over. Not being a shifter, Jasmine could only imagine what she was going through. She’d be frightened once she knew the whole truth. Mark was holding off telling her. After everything that had happened, waiting until things were calmer looked like the best solution.
Mark hadn’t said a word to Jasmine since she’d told him of the fate of the dagger. Shepherding Tabitha up into the main part of the house, he was in full professional mode. They had to touch base with the Scotland office back in London. A clean-up crew would need to be notified. Decisions had to be made about the other artefacts that were still in the building.
“Three backup teams from England touched down a few hours ago,” Mark informed them. “They were coordinating with the law enforcement here and should be rounding up the shifters, which are still loose, with the Budapest operatives.”
Now the werewolves were free of the pendant’s influence, they’d still be running rampant beneath the blood moon, which was still full. They needed to assure that they didn’t wreak to much damage. To maintain secrecy, they’d need to cover things up.
“Where’s Eric?” Jasmine asked, finally realising after all the excitement the brooding blue-eyed vamp wasn’t with them.
Cocking his head, Mark turned, reaching the sanctuary of the sitting room that lead from the secret passage. “We thought he stayed with you when he didn’t come out to the car.”
“The coffin...” Trailing behind them, Ellen was cocooned in the dusty table cloth, keeping it clutched tight right up to her neck.
A chill swept over Jasmine. “What do you mean the coffin?”
“The one in the main part of the museum...the one that’s infused with silver and used by vampire hunters. I…think we locked him in it. The memories are all fuzzy.”
Clutching the nanny’s arm, Jasmine fought the urge to squeeze. “Show me, show me, now.”