by Claire Marta
Breathing hard through her nose, Jasmine released one side of the hilt. Nimbly as she could, she wrapped it round the grip of the sword. Then she let the other side go. Still with her legs suspended sideways in the air, she jerked the grip towards her. Another surge of power burst through her skin.
The monster must have sensed something. A roar of sheer anger resounded around the cavernous walls. Jasmine screamed as it ripped at her legs.
The blade slid from its rocky sheath. It happened so abruptly she almost let it go. Rocks bit into her hand as she held tight. The seaweed slipped and slid against her arms. Jasmine twisted in the monster’s tentacle grasp. Swinging back with the blade, she brought the sword crashing down clumsily across its appendages.
Metal ripped through the rubbery flesh as easily as a knife through jam. The monster shrieked. Adrenaline was still pumping through her system. Bringing the sword up again, she drove it into the one of its eyes. The impact reverberated up her arm.
Cold crimson spilled over her hand and the hilt. Again, she brought it down. The blade found better purchase in the meaty flesh this time. Bellowing, the creature writhed. Mouth snapping at the air, it tried to bury its razor sharp teeth in anything that came too close.
Jasmine continued to hack and slash. Tentacles were everywhere. The more she cut them down, more seemed to appear. Magic prickled against her neck. Like a heated pulse it sent goosebumps feathering over her skin. Her sixth sense vibrated in her skull with the sensation.
The carved necklace Wyllt had given her had begun to glow. Jasmine didn’t question. All she did was react. Ripping it off, she tossed it into the creature’s jaws. The maw was eager to chow down on whatever it could get.
When it realised it wasn’t a juicy human body part, it seemed to get even more pissed off. Limbs thrashed in its fury. Tentacles coiled around her legs and launched her across the pool. With an oomph she landed on the sandy edge. Somehow she had managed to miss impaling herself with the sword. She found it still tightly clutched in one hand.
Jasmine’s stomach was churning. Panting, she tried to blink away a sudden bout of dizziness. The monster was shrieking. The sound was bouncing off the walls in an almost deafening blast.
Crawling forwards, Jasmine started to drag herself towards the exit. No way was she hanging around. Her hands grazed along the softness of ground. Pain screamed up her arms and legs as the torn skin and wounds burned. She knew they would be covered with grit and sand.
The magic from the necklace was rising in its intensity. Jasmine could feel it expanding. Then it detonated. The shock wave of searing, heated energy sent her tumbling sideways. Chunks of fleshy meat went flying. Guts and blood splatter blanketed her skin. Flapping her hands in the air, she tried to protect herself with a startled squeak.
A sudden silence filled the cavern. Trying to calm her wildly beating heart, she wiped a thick layer of slimy liquid from her eyes. The stuff was everywhere. Putrid, it smelt like fish that had been left to rot for days on end. Jasmine tried not to gag.
Hand over her mouth, she rolled onto her knees and sat up unsteadily. A fishy taste was on her lips. Just a trace of the slime had worked its way into her mouth. A revolted shudder rocked through her body. Bile rose in her throat. Jasmine knelt on all fours, breathing hard. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she tried not to throw up. This didn’t help. She began to retch.
Somehow she managed to keep her breakfast down. Spasms twisted her insides as her back bowed with her ridged movements. After a while her stomach settled down. Running a hand through her short, sticky hair, she sat up again.
Every muscle in her body was burning with exertion. That had not been fucking fun. Warily, she glanced towards the pool. Nothing remained of the monster but a smoking mass of smouldering flesh. Tentacles were everywhere; scattered on the sand and still twitching before growing still. The yellow watery eyes had dulled with death.
Why the fuck had Wyllt sent her in here? And sent her in blind? He had to have known about the monstrosity that was waiting. What could possibly be in here that would help her with the witches? Releasing one deep frustrated sigh, she sat back on her heels. She realised then the front of her dress was gaping open. Her breasts were bare. Goo and blood coated the soft globes.
Jasmine snorted. She looked ridiculous. Had they been hanging out the whole battle? She giggled at the thought. Fuck, she was losing her mind if she found that funny. Grabbing the loosened ties of the corset, she tugged them tight and tied them securely. Still, it kept drooping, but at least she was covered.
The dress was ruined. Blood, grime, and squid blood drenched the once grey material. Ripped in so many places, she doubted it could ever be mended. Wyllt’s wife was going to be pissed.
The gleam of the sword beside her caught her eye. For something that had been wedged deep into a rock it certainly was shiny. Frowning, she peered down at it. Words were written along the length of the blade. Tilting her head, she read the words.
“Excalibur,” she murmured. Magic vibrated through the blade. Somehow it reacted to its name. Jasmine felt it bristling against her sixth sense, warming and pure.
A smile curved her lips. She had heaved the mystical sword from its stone. The irony made her laugh. “I’m the fucking queen of England.”
She knew Twitch would have gotten a kick out of this. He would also have been impressed that she had taken on a huge motherfucking squid monster and won. Jasmine grinned. O-Kay. She was on her way to restoring her self-esteem. She had survived. No one had come riding in to rescue her. Wyllt’s necklace had helped, but she had been the one to stuff it in the creature’s mouth. Team Jasmine was on a roll. Maybe she was not as weak as Eric thought.
Jasmine winced as she moved. Every part of her either throbbed or stung. She felt battered and bruised. Not one inch of skin seemed to be untouched. Wounds from the monsters suckers were trickling blood down her legs. They weren’t very deep though. She felt woozy. God, she hoped they hadn’t been poisonous.
She was shaking so badly she could barely make it to her feet. Strangely, she was feeling a little buzz. This wouldn’t last. She knew that. Adrenaline was starting to crash and it would leave her feeling tired and sick. Jasmine knew she had to start moving before that happened.
The cavern now was silent. Only the occasional spluttering of the flaming torches could be heard or the sporadic dripping of water. No longer was it eerie like it had been before. Now that the monster was dead the unpleasant atmosphere had melted away.
Limping slowly across the sand, she headed for the bone shard pile. Excalibur was in her hand. She needed something to carry it with better and she was going to have to improvise. The white remains were stark against the golden ground on which they lay. Skulls, jawbones and other parts littered the mound. She couldn’t even count how many had died.
The carcasses had been stripped clean. Jasmine could see the deep grooves of teeth in each one. Gnaw marks marred many rib bones. The monster had feasted well on its victims. She poked through the rags with her foot. After some searching, she found an old sword scarab. This fit Excalibur a little loosely but kept the blade covered.
Using some rags, she tied them around each end of the scarab and then threaded an old, worn belt she had discovered, through them. Pulling the now sheathed sword onto her back, she dragged one end of the belt over her shoulder and the other under her right arm. This took a few tries as her hands were still shaking.
She buckled it up. The leather strap held her burden perfectly. Now her hands were free if she needed them. With a sigh, she tugged up the bust of the dress. Her stomach was still see-sawing, yet the nausea had passed.
What she really wanted now was another shower. The squid blood was beginning to dry. Bits of God-knows-what we’re covering every inch of her. She had never felt so unclean in her life. Maybe she could go back to Wyllt’s? That seemed like the best idea. A hot shower, and maybe if she begged he would give her another change of clothes. She had found his damn s
word after all.
Without a glance back, Jasmine made her way out of the cave. She used the hard, cold, rocky wall for support. On slow, unsteady legs she headed for the entrance. The sunlight beyond was a welcome sight. The torches dimmed, spluttering out the moment she stepped back out over the threshold. Relief poured through her. Fuck, she never wanted to do that again.
A salty sea breeze blew caressingly against her face. Closing her eyes, she savoured the sensation. Beyond, the sound of the waves could be heard crashing gently against the beach.
Swift and sharp, Jasmine’s stomach cramped violently. A knifing pain rammed through her middle. The breath locked in her lungs. Agony rippled through every fibre of her being, every nerve ending. Jasmine knew instantly what it was. Twitch’s mother had described the withdrawal symptoms of a vampire bite. This was it. The timing stunk.
Sinking to her knees, she tried to breathe through the pain. Her limbs were weak. The movement jarred every sting and throb into a searing burst of pulsating life. Head spinning, her lips felt strangely numb.
Yanking the little bottle out of the pocket of her dress, she was amazed it had not been smashed in the fight. Jasmine’s hands were still shaking so badly she barely kept hold of it. As another wave of pain hit her, it fell from her fingers. Landing on her side, hard, she withered. With half slit eyes, she watched it bounce between some jagged stones.
Fuck. Stretching out a desperate hand she tried to grab for it. The little glass vial lay just out of reach. Teeth clenched together, she whimpered in distress. No. No, this could not be happening. Why the fuck now?
Another round of agony flooded her system, arching, she rolled onto her back. She could feel the scarab digging into her where it was tied. Jasmine banged the back of her head back against the rocks in frustration. Her insides felt like someone was yanking them out with a pair of garden shears.
Blotches of red and black danced before her eyes. She tried to breathe through it, but it didn’t help. In a flurry of black feathers, Wyllt’s raven sat down on the rocks. Turning her head in a jerky motion, Jasmine stared at it. It was staring right back. Then it hopped closer. Beady eyes blinked at her as it tilted its head with curiosity.
With a loud caw it began to change. Feathers ruffling, receding, it grew in size. Green skirts lengthened over a feminine body. Silky, long, lustrous, mahogany hair gleamed in the sunlight. The woman had a regal countenance with her head held high. Skin radiant, it was smooth and flawless. She was crouched gracefully. Jasmine recognized her instantly. This was the same woman who had saved her and Twitch from the Jinns’ attack.
Leaning down, she retrieved the vial. “Is this what you need?” she asked with concern.
Jasmine jerked her head. Arms around her middle she didn’t have the power to respond. Pain knifed savagely through her again, this time with even more intensity. Opening her mouth she screamed. Her insides felt like they were coming undone, unravelling with every slice of this burning need for a vampire bite.
Wasting no time, the woman popped open the lid. Before Jasmine knew what was happening her jaw was being pried open. The liquid was bitter as it was tipped into her mouth and slid down her throat. When it hit the pit of her stomach it cramped it into even more agonizing knots.
Jasmine sobbed. Rolling to her side, she pulled her knees up into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She lay with her eyes screwed shut. Tears rolled down her battered cheeks, tracking a path through the dirt and monster blood. She was shaking. The tremors that racked her body could not be stopped.
They rippled through her tired muscles, still aching from before. God she wanted it to end. This was too much to bear. Yet she couldn’t force her mind from what was going on in her body. How long she lay there in a fetal position she did not know. Time had no meaning. The agony stretched on, shredding and torturing. Tears continued to flow unchecked until she felt spent. A weak mess.
Eventually the pain eased. Jasmine felt her muscles relax. The rays of the sun bathed her face and shoulders in warmth. For a while she lay there enjoying the moment as her body returned to normal. Her mind was quiet after the storm of crying. Jasmine knew it couldn’t last. Lying on the beach all day was not possible. Releasing a sigh, she opened her eyes and slowly sat up.
The woman was still beside her. Sitting on a flat boulder, she was observing Jasmine with a look of worry. The skirts of her flowing, green dress were spread carefully around her.
“Are you well now?” she asked.
“Yes. Thanks for getting me the vial.” Distractedly, Jasmine yanked up the sagging bust line of her own grey garment. It had fallen down again flashing a curve of a breast.
The woman smiled. “You are welcome, Jasmine.” Gracefully, she pushed her thick, long hair over one shoulder. For a moment her gaze strayed out to look over the calm sea.
“You’re Wyllt’s raven,” Jasmine blurted out. After what she had seen so far, she didn’t know why she was surprised. Nothing here was as it seemed.
This drew the woman’s attention back. Her pouty lips smirked. “Actually I’m his wife, Mag. We’ve been keeping an eye on your progress.”
Jasmine shifted uncomfortably where she knelt. The rocks were digging into her knees and shins, but she ignored them. “Your hubby sent me into a cave with a fucking tentacle monstrosity. It tried to suck my face off.”
Mag’s fine eyebrows rose slightly. “He was testing your mental strength, and you survived the quest did you not. Now you have Excalibur.”
“I thought only Knights went on quests?” Jasmine grumbled irritably. She was tired. All she wanted to do was find somewhere to curl up now and sleep. “And wasn’t it only Arthur who could draw the sword from the fucking stone?”
“Is that what you really think? And why does it sound like you believe only men can be Knights, can face danger? Are we condemned only to be the Princess in need of rescue? To sit idly by at home and bear their children and cook their meals?” Mag’s voice was laced with steel and an angry demand. “I once had armies at my beck and call. Never underestimate your resilience or determination, my dear.”
Jasmine stared warily at the other woman. “No, of course not…” A thought suddenly hit her. “Fuck, that wasn’t the lady of the lake in there was it?” She hadn’t even considered that possibility until now. It had attacked her first. Every medieval, King Arthur legend started tumbling through her head. A powerful female who lived in water had always guarded the sword.
No, it couldn’t have been...
Mag blinked at the sudden change of question. Her anger faded. “Certainly not. That beast moved in while she was away. She hasn’t been able to get back in since it took up residence.”
“So, you conveniently sent me in to do pest control?” Jasmine replied tightly. Raising a hand, she ran it through her short, sticky hair.
The other woman tried to dismiss her question with a regal wave of her hand. “You doubted your strength. I think you have just proven to yourself and us that you’re far from weak.”
“I could have been killed,” Jasmine persisted.
Tilting her head, Mag regarded her thoughtfully. “Yet here you sit. You knew danger was awaiting you even before you stepped fourth into the cave. Don’t try to deny it.” The brightness of her forest green eyes fixed on Jasmine’s face intently. “Tell me, how does it feel to keep facing your mortality?”
Jasmine stilled. “What do you mean?”
“You have faced death more than once, and not just here.”
Curling her fingers in the smooth pebbles beneath her, Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “How...”
The answering smile that curved Mag’s lips was sphinx-like. “I know many things.”
Jasmine considered how to answer. For some reason she found she couldn’t lie. “Honestly….it’s a rush. I have never felt so alive. It’s…addictive,” she confessed softly.
It was a deep, dark secret. Something which had slowly been growing inside her. And now she had finally admitted it
out loud. What did that really tell her about herself? Did she run head-long into danger with open arms just for that feeling? Just for the thrill? The high? She had turned into an adrenaline junkie.
The only other place she had ever experienced the same feeling, just as powerful, just as strong, was when she had been in Eric’s arms. The unbridled, wildfire passion that was between them.
Anger and despair merged inside her. Something heavy was weighing down her heart again. The bitterness rose like bile in her mouth. If she was even more honest, it had started back in Paris. Back when she had met the vampire for the first time. The moment her eyes had first met his. It had been electric. As if something unknown had passed between then in that second.
Jasmine sat, staring out at the calm sea. Fuck, she was so screwed up. The ache in her heart kept coming and going, yet it was always there in the quiet moments. She felt raw, exposed. Opening her heart for the first time had left her nothing but misery. This wasn’t something she intended to ever do again. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.
She loved Eric, but she needed more than to be his human pet. Jasmine needed more than just lust and a red-hot physical connection. She deserved better. What she deserved was to be loved back.
“Someone has made you doubt yourself, haven’t they, my dear?” Mag’s shrewd gaze was on Jasmine’s pale face. “A lover.”
“Yes.” Jasmine saw no point in denying it. The woman probably had some mystic power to read her mind. Either that or her feelings were written across her face.
“This male obviously cannot see what a beautiful rarity you are. He does not deserve your love, nor should you let any words he has spoken define your existence.”
Jasmine released a long, shaky sigh. “I’ve never been in love before…not like this.”
“The kind of love that has the power to rip you apart at the seams.” The other woman murmured quietly. “Leave you aching at night for the touch of his hand, or that smile which he bestows only on you?”