The Scent of Jasmine Read online

  The Scent of Jasmine

  By: Helen McNicol

  iSBN: 978-1-877546-75-4

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © Aug. 2009, Helen McNicol

  Cover Art Copyright © Aug. 2009, Brightling Spur

  Bluewood Publishing Ltd

  Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand

  www.bluewoodpublishing.com

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Bluewood Publishing Ltd

  Dedication

  To My Husband, for his faith in my ability, and technique in reverse psychology!

  The Scent of Jasmine

  Grey eyes peered into the darkness; seeing further into the night than any human could fathom. Jasmine heard the loud beat of music long before they reached the city, so she knew exactly where she wanted to be.

  Gareth touched her arm as she moved to get out of the car.

  “Jazz, your contacts.”

  Jasmine scowled, her porcelain face crinkled in disapproval.

  “I hate those things, I can’t see properly when I have them in.”

  Gareth, amused by her tantrum, laughed and squeezed her arm.

  “Get used to it little one. That’s how I see the world every day. If you want to walk among the humans you have to be one of them.”

  Being almost the human equivalent of nineteen years now, it annoyed Jasmine that Gareth should still refer to her in such derogatory terms, but if it wasn’t for him she wouldn’t be allowed into the city at all, so she bit her tongue. Besides, if anyone found out who she really was it could put her whole community in danger. So for now she complied with the rules, understanding the reason for them. Jasmine’s family tree came from dark roots, which crawled up through the soil of a place called ‘The Field of Blood’. If you were Christian you would believe this was where Judas Iscariot met his own death.

  There were several theories on the unfortunate demise of Judas; one that he had hanged himself in the field he had purchased with his thirty pieces of silver gained from the betrayal of Jesus Christ. When he fell to the earth his body split open, spilling his blood onto the ground. Others believe Judas was what we would call today, a patsy; planted to take the fall for the greatest hero ever written about, and therefore just as much a martyr. Whether he knew his fate or not, he was the founder of a secret society living among people, today called vampires. The ‘Kiss of Judas’ became more than a betrayal; delivered with incisors that had evolved in Jasmine’s ancestors over many centuries, his ‘Field of Blood’ an unlucky necessity to imitate life among the undead.

  Like all societies, over time they had dispersed into distinct groups. Some alleged, if they were already damned, it was their right to cast their havoc onto mankind. The others were Jasmine’s line, peaceful and undetected amongst their fellow race, living in fear of being discovered for what they really were. Ironically they were almost a link between the vampire race and human, for they followed the laws of both. Like most of the human race they had turned to animals for their survival, no longer even killing their own. It was one of the many ways that enabled them to splice their existence into human society, among people who kept their secrets and guarded their lives. Gareth, like his father before him, was one of these people.

  “Sorry Gareth,” Jasmine exchanged her scowl for a sweet smile, practiced just wide enough to keep her teeth hidden.

  She pulled back her jet-black hair and popped a contact lens carefully under each eyelid. Gareth glanced at his watch as he stepped from the car and held the door for Jasmine.

  “I’ll meet you back here at midnight, okay?”

  “Yes boss,” Jasmine grinned up at her ward, nearly two feet superior to her five foot three inches in height.

  “If you change venues let me know,” Gareth turned to walk away.

  “You know, you could come with me,” Jasmine smiled, already knowing what the answer would be.

  “Me, in a nightclub? I don’t think so Missy. I’ll settle for a quiet beer and a movie.”

  “You’ll never meet the perfect woman sitting in the dark by yourself,” Jasmine goaded. Gareth shot her a look that could pale any smile, but Jasmine just laughed. She felt sorry for Gareth. His life was just as guarded as hers. By his own free will he stayed with her family, protected them, and would probably give his own life to save hers if it came to it.

  * * * *

  Gareth was forgotten as soon as Jasmine entered the nightclub. The pounding music and flashing lights filled her senses with pleasure. Here she was just another face in the crowd and she could wear the darkness as her shroud.

  “Hey there,” a voice behind her left shoulder made her jump in fright. She whirled and almost lost her balance, he had caught her off guard and she didn’t like it. Senses prickled in her spine like the hackles of a dog.

  “Hi,” she frowned, although the face was instantly familiar to her. This man was the reason she had felt compelled to return to the same club tonight. “Do I know you?” She was being coy, wanting to know what he would say. Her peripheral vision searched for signs of danger, but she sensed nothing. Still, she could not relax, this man had made a bee line for her the moment she had walked in. She needed to be wary.

  Being unable to deny there had been an instant attraction to this stranger last time, Jasmine studied him now that he was in close range. He had short, wavy hair that he kept cropped close to his head, and penetrating emerald eyes under long dark lashes any woman would be envious of. He had a scar across one eyebrow, which was almost endearing, and a ripe shapely mouth.

  “No, you don’t know me,” his lips curled into a crooked smile. It was genuine; Jasmine could tell by the way his eyes crinkled into crow feet at the edges, “I saw you here last Friday.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember you now,” Jasmine said casually as she glanced towards the bar and stuffed her fingers deep into the back pockets of her black jeans.

  He followed her gaze, “I was hoping I would see you again tonight.” Jasmine was unsure whether or not she liked his directness. It was flattering, but frankness was not a trait that made her believe she could trust this man. He could have other reasons for wanting to get close to her. He continued, “Are you here alone, or are you meeting someone?”

  Alarm bells rang in Jasmine’s head. With her heart rate raising another notch she took a step backwards, searching his face to determine what his intentions were. Sensing her anxiety he put both hands up in front of him in surrender, “Sorry, I must seem like a stalker right now,” he grinned playfully.

  “Well. . .” Jasmine tried to smile. Telepathically she searched the room for a familiar vibe and her panic settled a little as she found others in the club who knew her.

  “I was just pleased to see you again. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last time,” he was fumbling now, his confidence having taken a blow, “I don’t want to seem like a weirdo.”

  “It’s not often I get pounced on as soon as I walk into a room, I’m just a little surprised,” Jasmine placed a delicate hand over her chest. If he knew for one second she was calculating how quickly she could snap his neck if this turned bad, he would be running the other way right now. Her years of training had taught her how to seem petite, fragile and young to those she walked with, however when required, her strength was greater than two men double her size.

  “An
yway, my name is Mark,” he pushed the sleeves of his blue shirt up to his elbows, “And I’m going to go over there,” he pointed to a table in the far corner of the room, beyond the dance floor, “If you want you can come over,” he flashed a cheesy smile, “Or, not.”

  Jasmine felt the approach of another through the crowd and she half turned to greet Cookie. His long hair and biker tattoos were unmistakable in the half-light of the club.

  “You okay Jazz?” his tone mirrored his body language as he extended his thickset arm and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Jasmine smiled with reassurance at her elder, “Ah huh,” she turned back to Mark but he had already gone. She watched his form as he pushed through the throng on the dance floor, the angular shape of his back visible through his thin cotton shirt. Searching for his scent in the crowd, she found it on the air like an invitation, beckoning her. What was it about this man that intrigued her so? The experience of this animal attraction was completely alien to Jasmine, and something deep down compelled her to explore it. But for now she was able to resist, and instead she followed Cookie to the bar. However, she was unable to forget, and intermittently searched Mark out. His attentive stare met hers each time. Most of the time vampires were not drawn to people physically, except for the kill. Jasmine knew this from her teachings and in experience. It was what kept them safe. But it was not unheard of. Jasmine’s great grandmother had chosen to become a vampire bride at the age of nineteen. Others had remained in human form to have relationships with vampires, but this was painful for both parties. Jasmine could not imagine seeing the one she loved the most growing old before her eyes. It was hard enough watching Gareth, changing nearly four years to her one, knowing he would be dead long before she saw the human age equivalent of thirty.

  Around eleven o’clock, when Jasmine noticed Mark no longer kept a watchful eye on her, she excused herself from Cookie and went over to his table. Behind his line of sight, she crept up and bent to whisper in his ear.

  “So, do you dance?” The aroma of him filled her nostrils, a mixture of the heavy masculine scent he carried naturally masked with smells of soap, alcohol and, was that, garlic? How ironic. She smiled to herself as he got up from the table and faced her. The crowd had grown thick and she found herself pushed up against him, her tiny frame nearly reached his chin as he looked down at her. He grinned, “I’d given up on you. I didn’t think you were ever going to come over.”

  He has the most amazing eyes Jasmine thought to herself. She was mesmerized. Her smile was teasing, “That’s why I came over.”

  “Ah,” there was that lopsided smile again, white teeth and rose bud lips, just waiting to be plucked,

  “So you’re a cat and mouse kind of girl?”

  “Jasmine,” she stated, “My name is Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine,” it sounded like heaven from his lips. She watched him form the name with his mouth.

  “How fitting. Small, pale and delicate, beautiful,” he winked, “but deceptively strong.”

  For the first time in her life Jasmine was lost for words. She didn’t believe in love at first sight, but she couldn’t deny this instant attraction she felt as if a fire had been set alight in the pit of her stomach. Like windows to his soul Jasmine could see from his eyes that he felt the same way. He cleared his throat, “How about that dance then?”

  They moved to the dance floor, and as Jasmine turned to face him again he took her by the waist. Although surprised, she let him pull her closer, and she slipped her arms around his neck. He was unusually warm to the touch, something Jasmine had been unprepared for. He held her firmly and they moved to the music. Trying to mask the feelings she was having being this close to him, she listened to the song playing and smiled a little. The heavy beat moved through her like electricity as the words resounded in her head. Never could there have been a more appropriate song for the moment:

  Your eyes are the window to my soul

  Your touch feels like home

  And I know

  But black and white

  Don’t always make grey

  Sometimes colours

  change the way

  but still I wonder

  If I asked you to stay

  If I asked you to stay

  How would love be

  If I asked you to stay

  When the song finished they stood silently for a moment in each others arms, and then Mark took her by the hand and headed to the back of the bar. His firm shoulders pushed through the crowd with little effort.

  “Where are we going?” Jasmine asked.

  “It’s okay, just in here,” Mark shouldered the door open and Jasmine stepped into a quaint coffee house attached to the rear of the building.

  She laughed as she sat on a red vinyl bench seat in one of the booths. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

  Mark smiled and sat opposite her, leaning forward so that his face was only inches from her own.

  “That’s better,” he said, “Now I can hear myself think,” he looked around the room, “Would you like a coffee?”

  Jasmine smiled, “No thanks. I don’t drink coffee,” she glanced at her watch, “Besides, I have to go at midnight.”

  “Oh? You have a curfew? Do you live close, maybe I can give you a lift?”

  Jasmine was used to fielding questions and was prepared, “Oh, that’s okay, I have a friend in town who’s giving me a lift. I live a little way out of the city.”

  Mark took her hand and began to study her fingers in close detail, a small creased smile at the edges of his mouth.

  “Well, that doesn’t give me much time to get to know you then, does it?”

  “I don’t know,” Jasmine giggled, “With the pace you’ve been moving so far it shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Can I see you again after tonight? What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?”

  This question was always tricky for Jasmine, and he had gone right to it. Thinking of reasons why she was not available during the day was always difficult.

  “I think that can be arranged,” Jasmine smiled. She was enjoying the interest he was oozing, “How about tomorrow night?” This would give her nearly twenty four hours to have Gareth check him out. There were strict protocols with new contacts, and Jasmine would have to make sure they were all followed. Mark smiled, “Sure,” he glanced at the people sitting at the surrounding tables, “Maybe somewhere a little more quiet?” He bent his head and before Jasmine realized what was happening he kissed her softly. It was a light, tender touch of the lips, his warm mouth moving over hers with soft intention. A strange feeling awoke in her, like instinct taking over. Melded with the distinct heat of passion was the urge to feed, and her eyes wandered to his neck, where the open collar of his shirt exposed the perfect vein through his tanned skin.

  Jasmine moaned and pulled away, “Sorry,” she smiled apologetically, “You just took me by surprise. This has all happened so fast.”

  He chuckled, “You’re telling me. You don’t think I’m in the habit of picking up women in bars do you?”

  “You tell me,” Jasmine teased. Then she was serious, “What do you do?”

  “Ah, twenty questions time,” he smiled, “I’m between jobs at the moment. I just moved here.”

  Jasmine was curious, “Oh, where are you from?”

  She couldn’t help but notice Mark’s body language shift. His back stiffened and the way in which he was playing with her fingers changed.

  “I’m from all over. I’ve never stayed in one place very long.”

  She watched him, defensive and wary. She liked this man but she still wasn’t sure whether she could trust him or not. Time would tell.

  He turned his attention back to Jasmine, “What do you do? We’ve already established you live at home, so I’m guessing you are still studying?”

  “Always studying,” she sighed and smiled, “But working too. I’m a teacher.”

  “Ah, my worst nightmare,” he grinned, “I ha
ted school.”

  “Okay. You dropped out of school, you don’t work. What do you do?” she fixed him with a jesting stare, but the look he gave her in return was stony and serious.

  “What if I told you I was a dragon slayer?”

  Her smile dropped as she studied his face. Was he teasing her, or was he trying to get into a discussion of belief that would lead her to something else? She tested the waters, leveling him with a serious stare of her own.

  “That explains why you’re not working at the moment then doesn’t it?”

  “How’s that?”

  “Well, there aren’t many dragons around here.”

  A small smile formed on one side of his mouth. “Just because you haven’t seen one, doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”

  “Fair enough. But everyone knows they don’t exist.”

  His eyes twinkled, “I guess you don’t believe in vampires either?”

  Was it her imagination or had he squeezed her fingers just a little too tight when he said that?

  She swallowed, “A lot of people believe in things they can’t see. God, aliens, it’s all a matter of faith really isn’t it? Maybe you are a dragon slayer. Who am I to say?”

  “Hmm,” he seemed deep in thought as he looked at his watch. “What time did you say your ride was coming, midnight?” He didn’t wait for an answer but rising slowly he went to the counter to retrieve a pen.

  “This is me,” he turned her hand over and slowly wrote his details across her palm. “Come over whenever you like, I’ll be home all night.”

  Jasmine stared at his writing on her hand in big bold confident letters.

  “Jasmine?”

  She looked back up at him questioningly.

  “Will you jump out of your skin if I kiss you again?” Mark grinned. Jasmine laughed. “No,” she looked around them, “But not here. Will you walk me out?”

  He nodded and they walked slowly back through the club to the front entrance. Her body tingled with anticipation as she turned to him for their first goodbye. The second kiss was even better than the previous one. His arms encircled her tiny waist and he hugged her tightly.