by Claire Marta
Twitch straightened up beside her, catching her off-guard. “I didn’t promise you anything. I’m out of that business now, Marcel. I can’t help you.” His voice was low but firm.
She glanced sideways in astonishment. Generally, he was a very shy introvert. She had never seen him with steel in his voice. He actually sounded quite determined.
The fat man's laugh was more like a school girl’s giggle. “Oh, you will.”
Jasmine’s eyes moved back over the three men. The fat man felt human, like his young, male, blond companion. She barely spared them a look, instead returning her attention to the non-human, who sat cross-legged on the sofa. Both his arms were relaxed along the back. His body language oozed confidence and dominance.
Jasmine examined him covertly. Maybe she could figure out what they were dealing with. She knew she had to be careful though.
Broad-shouldered, he looked like he was all hard muscle beneath his expensive, grey suit. A lean waist and hips tapered down to long, muscular legs.
He had well-defined cheekbones, an aquiline nose. His short, black, tousled hair was swept back from his forehead highlighting a devastatingly cold, handsome face, which betrayed little emotion.
His eyes were a bright cerulean blue. Their spellbinding intensity stole the breath from her lungs when she found herself caught within them. They seemed to look deep inside, right to her very soul. Dizziness swept through her. Tearing her gaze from his face, she looked away.
A smile had curved his sexy mouth. He had been aware of her scrutiny.
Jasmine felt a flutter of unexpected excitement in her stomach. She resisted the urge to bite her lip. His eyes were still on her. She could feel them sliding over her almost like a heated, physical caress.
They were being held prisoner and her body had decided to respond to the nearness of a good-looking guy. She never responded to men. Not even ones that looked this hot.
Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to get a grip of her traitorous body. This guy was a fucking baddie. Plenty of monsters—human or not—had pretty faces. She knew that from experience.
Twitch's voice snapped her from her thoughts.
“No, I mean it, Marcel,” he said with anger now in his voice. “I’m done with the black market.”
The fat man looked amused. His pudgy face squished up in an unattractive grin. “Oh, Twitch,” he said and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Now we are going to have to punish your girlfriend for your disobedience.”
Jasmine took a second to realize he meant her. Eyes widening, she stared at the arms dealer. Then she blinked in confusion, not sure she had heard him right.
Punish her? What the fuck did he mean by that? For one thing, she wasn’t his girlfriend. And for another, she and pain really did not get on well.
Twitch’s eyes expanded in alarm. Arm snaking out, he pulled her protectively against his side. Jasmine made a little “oomph” from the force. His tall form trembled slightly against her.
“You can’t punish her,” Twitch said, his voice a shaky whisper. The fingers of the arm around her shoulders clenched the material of her cardigan. He was holding her so tightly; it was almost painful.
Jasmine was not sure how he was going to get her out of this, but she trusted him so she kept her mouth shut.
“We need you in one piece,” the fat man said, his white teeth flashing like a shark's. “I’m sure Pierre will know just how to treat her.” His beady eyes strayed to the door.
Jasmine turned fearful eyes on the brawny man who had showed them inside.
The massive guard grinned. He rubbed one of his fists with his other hand. She had a feeling he wanted her to meet them up close and personal. It was something she would rather avoid.
He was packed with hard muscles. Obviously he spent most of his time in the gym, when he wasn’t threatening people for his boss. His nose was bent like it had once been broken. His brown eyes, boring a hole into her, were hard and uncaring.
Pierre would hurt her. She could see it in the glint of his eyes. He would also take pleasure in inflicting the pain.
Jasmine swallowed hard. All the self-defense training she had learnt fled from her head. Her heart rate increased almost painfully in her chest.
“Perhaps you will allow me the pleasure.” The voice was a deep baritone. It held an English accent, upper-class and cultured.
Jasmine could feel the subtle pulse of power laced in the words. They fizzed on the tip of her tongue, like bubbles from prosecco.
Suddenly with a sense of dread she knew what they faced. Only a vampire could wield the ability of persuasion so masterfully. Those were the only creatures she had heard of that possessed that gift. Not all vampires—but enough of them.
The vampire’s eyes were chilling now. They were riveted on her with such intensity that she became a ball of nerves. Did he now want to hurt her, too?
Only a few minutes ago, his look had sent heat singing through her body. It was like he had flipped a switch. He had gone from sexual interest to a chilling remoteness in a matter of seconds.
“But of course, Monsieur Jeger,” their host said and with a raised eyebrow, glanced at the vampire. “You may deal with the girl.”
Disappointment shadowed Pierre’s face. Jasmine was suddenly thankful he could not get his hands on her. She didn’t want to be his punching bag. Then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what the vampire had in store for her either.
She understood, though, that they wanted to make an example of her. Something to get Twitch’s cooperation, something he would not forget. That just did not bode well for her.
The vampire rose from the sofa and towered over her.
Jasmine had to tilt her head up just to meet his gaze. He was at least six feet tall. His presence was menacing and she had never felt so small in her life. She knew she was a shorty, but no one had ever made her feel this tiny.
Alarm constricted her chest. Those eyes were cold and unfriendly. These were the eyes of a killer. A monster.
Oh crap, what the fuck was she going to do?
Jasmine pressed herself fearfully into Twitch’s side. His arm squeezed her tighter. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep quiet. They were, after all, threatening her well-being.
Suddenly she wished she had not been the one to offer Twitch a ride home. One of her seasoned team-mates would have coped with his situation far better than she was capable of. They would have known what to do.
“No, don’t hurt her.”
Jasmine’s eyes shot up at her friend’s words. What the fuck was he doing? He could not give them what they wanted. They both knew that.
“You agree to my terms?” Marcel asked, his eyebrows inching up.
The self-assurance on his face made her feel sick. The arms dealer was so sure he had Twitch right where he wanted him.
With a frustrated sigh, the techno mage nodded. Miserable green eyes met hers.
He was agreeing to protect her. Jasmine knew she could not let him do it. Creating weapons that could take innocent lives would destroy Twitch. She could not let herself be used as his vulnerability. Not even to save herself.
Taking a shaky breath, she swallowed down her fear.
“No, don’t do it, Twitch.”
His eyes flickered in confusion for a moment at her whisper. “Jasmine.”
Jasmine shook her head, eyes pleading. “No, no. You can’t do this even to save me. It’s wrong and we both know it. We can’t trust them.”
It wouldn't matter what happened to her. Not if she was saving the lives of others. Not if she was stopping her friend from making a terrible mistake—a mistake he might never recover from.
Marcel probably planned to kill her anyway once he had what he wanted. Why would he keep her alive? If she was going to die, she would rather go out knowing she had done so heroically.
A hand curled firmly round her bicep. A little zing of electricity shot up her arms. It didn't hurt—more of a strange little sens
ation. Jasmine gasped.
Raising her head, she caught a ghost of a smile on the vampire’s sensual lips. With a tug he wrenched her from Twitch’s protective embrace. It wasn’t painful but a show of force.
Struggling, she found her back pressed against a hard-muscled front. A pleasurable heat shot through her from the contact. Her heart was racing in her chest with fear and a disturbing sense of excitement.
“Get the fuck off me, arsehole,” she snarled in shock.
“It sounds to me like this little girl needs a lesson in manners.” The vampire's deep voice washed unsettlingly over her, making her shiver. Apprehension tightened her chest.
The fat man’s grin turned into a leer. “I do believe you are right.”
Twitch lunged to grab hold of her again, but Pierre stopped him. A swift punch to the stomach and the mage folded like a deck of cards to the floor with a pained grunt. On his hands and knees on the carpet, he gasped for breath. It looked like the guard had winded him badly.
“Leave her alone arsehole. I said I would help you.” His voice was panicked when he lifted his head. Discomfort was etched across his face, as he held the place he had been hit.
“We need you to take us seriously, Twitch,” the fat man said as he dabbed at his head again. “Once this is done, you will be more agreeable.”
Jasmine found herself pressed harder against the male. It made her all too aware of the growing erection that was pressed against her bottom.
“Get off me,” she hissed, struggling desperately to break free.
The vampire laughed. The grip on her arm was now bruising as he dragged her fighting from the room.
Chapter 3
Struggling to break free, Jasmine tried to dig her heels into the floor to no avail. Nothing worked. No one was around to help her, no one to intervene, although she doubted anyone would.
Down the corridor he maneuvered her through an open door.
Jasmine’s eyes took in the sight of another sitting room, this one with armchairs around an antique table and empty of occupants.
As he yanked her arm, she squirmed, trying to loosen his hold. “I said get the fuck off me,” she said through gritted teeth.
She was frightened but did not want to show it. For all she knew, he was probably one of those sick bastards who got off on other people’s fear.
The hand on her bicep dropped away.
Eyes wary, she watched as he closed the door behind them with a click. A strangely ominous sound.
What would he do now? Beat her? Drink her blood? Drain her dry? She knew it was meant to send a message to Twitch. But how much of a message would it be? Her mouth went dry. Suddenly she did not feel so brave.
Leaning back against the wood, he surveyed slowly. Starting with her feet, his perusal was slow and through, travelling upwards over every inch of her until he reached her face.
The intensity of his dark, hungry look burned her to the core. Every part of her prickled with awareness at the touch of his gaze. She found it both disturbing and arousing.
Jasmine knew she was blushing from his inspection. She could feel the warmth in her cheeks. Warily, she backed away.
She knew that kind of look. What he wanted, though, she would not willingly give. Not without a fight. He was physically stronger than her, but she had determination on her side.
“It's in your best interests to be nice to me, Kitten.” His expression was amused, and his blue cerulean gaze again warmed. Gone was the coldness she had seen before. Gone was the look of a killer and a monster.
That voice of his curled pleasurably down her spine. She could barely breathe and let out a soft moan as she finally exhaled. What the hell was happening to her? She never reacted to men, at least not since her ex, Dan. How could the sound of this vamp's voice excite her so much?
“Fuck you, bloodsucker,” she said in a shaky mutter. She made sure to keep a good distance between them.
Surprise flared for a millisecond in his eyes. It was snuffed out just as quickly.
“And how is it, precisely, that you know what I am?” His voice was a low menacing sound now. Any warmth in his features was wiped away at her words.
The frosty chill was back in his beautiful eyes, and though there was no hint of fangs when he spoke, Jasmine knew they were there in his mouth ready to descend.
She swallowed hard.
She realized maybe she should not have let that slip. Fear raced through her anew. He could probably snap her like a twig if he wanted to. Vampires were notoriously strong and fast.
“Stay away from me,” Jasmine said as she backed up further. Eyes wild, she searched for a weapon, but there was nothing in sight. If she could break off a chair leg, maybe she could use it as a stake. How she would achieve this, though, she didn’t know.
A cold gaze fastened on her. Dark and dangerous, he stalked her across the room. Yet even as scared as she was, she also felt a delicious quiver of desire deep inside. A feeling she could not understand in this situation.
She bumped into an armchair and slid it between them. She knew it was not much of a barrier, but it made her feel a little safer. It was better than nothing.
“You will enlighten me now, girl,” Eric said, his voice low and stern.
While trying to steady her breathing and avoid hyperventilating, she suddenly found herself rooted to the spot. Tendrils of power were swirling around her. They kissed her flesh like a winter’s breeze, frigid and bitter.
Before she could blink he was before her—so close she could smell the scent of snow and pine trees. It filled all her senses, heady and bewitching. As he leaned down, his breath whispered against her face. Jasmine shivered.
Those chilling eyes, unblinking and intense, bore into hers. They were so mesmerizing she was unable to look away. All she could do was stare back, helplessly trapped.
Jasmine’s heart had gone into overdrive, thudding in her ears and accompanying the sound of her racing blood.
Her tongue poked out to lick her suddenly dry lips. Eric tracked the slight movement.
“I sense things some times,” she admitted in a near whisper. “I guessed you were a vampire, as I’ve not met one before.”
He stared at her for a moment longer, seemingly considering her words. Tension ebbed from his shoulders. The bite of his frosty power began to fade. Long, thick eyelashes lowered to hide the expression in his eyes. He was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating from his big body. Strangely, the sensation began to melt her fear away. It warmed her, pushing out the cold that had enfolded her from the lash of his vampiric powers.
Her heartbeat began to slow.
Why, she wondered, had he been upset that she knew what he was? Surely his friend Marcel knew he was a vamp? Or maybe it was a secret? Was he hiding this fact?
Before she could think on it any more, Jasmine found herself pressed back against a wall. Her soft breasts were crushed against his hard chest. The length of the vampire was pinned to her front. A gasp escaped from her lips. What the hell was he doing?
“D-don’t t-touch me,” she murmured.
Jasmine tensed up and tried to squirm away, but he had her trapped. Her arms bound to her sides by his. The movement, though, had made her very aware of the unfamiliar, pleasurable weight of his male body.
“It is not advisable to tease me,” Eric said into her ear. His breath warmed her cheek.
Inching forwards, he rested his cheek to hers. It was a strange gesture—unexpected, intimate.
A thunderbolt of pleasure struck through her. Her nipples abruptly hardened while moisture flooded her lacy panties.
Jasmine was stunned at how fast she had gone from fear to full arousal. Her body, which had felt nothing for so long, was now betraying her. How could this be happening?
The vampire inhaled deeply. It was a very animalistic act, as if he were scenting her.
“I know your boyfriend works for Scotland Yard.” The words were a husky whisper against her ear. “I would
recommend he obeys Marcel’s commands if he does not want to get you killed.”
Jasmine squeaked when her earlobe was sucked into a hot mouth. He suckled on it gently before releasing it with a little tug. The tip of his tongue began to delicately trace the shell of her ear.
“How do you know that?” Her voice was breathy. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, but she had no control over it.
The vampire’s hands began to roam over her satin-covered hips. The caresses caused a flood of alien sensations between her legs. Jasmine drew in a sharp breath.
“I know many things, Kitten.” He began to nibble gently on her neck. “Things others do not.”
Her insides clenched with pleasure. Biting her lip, she tried to focus on what he had said. Her mind, though, was falling into an enjoyable, vampire-induced haze. She fought the urge to tilt her head to give him better access. This vamp was a bad guy. She had to remember that. It was fucking hard, though, when every little touch was arousing her beyond belief.
She had never been so turned on in her life. Ever.
Her dress was being inched higher by big, warm palms brushing her upper thighs.
Jasmine tried to stifle another moan. It felt way too good. She could feel herself getting even wetter by the second. No one had touched her like this before. Her body was throbbing with an anticipation she couldn’t understand. Her hands, now free, moved up to his chest. Clenching the material of his suit jacket, she held on tight. What would it feel like skin to skin?
She bit her lip at the wayward thought. A slither of common sense wiggled to the forefront of her mind. Just like that, it doused the blinding desire that had swept over her.
What the fuck was she doing? Pushing against his pecs to free herself, she found he was immovable.
A deep chuckle vibrated against her neck. “Do not fight me, Jasmine.” He said her name slowly and deeply, as if savouring it in his mouth and letting it linger on the tip of his tongue.
Jasmine felt herself melt against him, but her mind hung onto clarity.
If she fought back would be hurt her? Did she want to fight back? The question popped into her mind before she could stop it.