FrostBite (The Hunter Chronicles Book 1) Read online

Page 19


  With smooth experience, he pulled onto the road with ease. The traffic was moving steadily.

  Jasmine frowned. “Why do it then?”

  Eric reached over to turn the heater on in the vehicle. After adjusting it to his liking, he settled back. Warm air blew out from the little ducts, filling the car with comfortable warmth.

  “For the thrill, my lovely. When you are immortal it is sometimes all you have when you have experienced all else.”

  She couldn’t imagine living forever. As he wouldn’t tell her how old he was, she could only guess how long it had taken him to get bored of everything.

  “I think we will get snow soon,” Eric said, neatly changing the subject. He glanced skyward for a moment. Thick, grey clouds hung low in the sky.

  To Jasmine it looked more like it would rain. The rest of the drive they travelled in a companionable silence.

  The restaurant Marcel had picked was a fancy little place near the river, not far from Notre Dame. Small and intimate. The tables were filled with other diners enjoying quiet lunches. They were led quickly to the back.

  The arms dealer had secured a table in a secluded corner, away from prying eyes. An elegant flower arrangement sat in a glass vase in the middle of it. The red petals of the flowers were bright against the whiteness of the table cloth. Three places lay set with napkins and cutlery.

  Marcel dabbed at his sweaty forehead as they approached, the blue silk handkerchief clutched tightly in his podgy hand.

  Pierre, his watch dog, stood beside the table like a sentinel—back straight, legs slightly parted. His eyes were hard as flint as he watched them draw closer.

  Jasmine managed to rein in the shudder of revulsion. Pierre gave her chills. He watched her moving with a hint of lust on his face.

  A wide smile of welcome spread across the fat man’s face. “Welcome.” He didn’t bother to stand, only gestured to the empty seats before him.

  None of the other men she had met the other night were there. It seemed it was just the four of them. Eric had not mentioned it would just be them.

  Glancing at the vampire, his face was unreadable. If he was surprised at all, he wasn’t letting on.

  Eric held out a chair for her, as he asked Marcel, “Are we early?”

  “No, you are right on time,” Marcel responded while signalling for a waiter.

  Jasmine slipped into the chair and pulled off her coat.

  Eric gracefully dropped into the seat beside her. “Marcel, I assumed the others would be here.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. He took Jasmine's and draped it over a chair at a nearby empty table. The smell of snow and pine wafted around her. Jasmine fought back the urge to breathe in deeply. Now was not the time to lust after the vampire. Keeping a clear head was what she needed.

  Marcel shook his head. “No, mon ami, I do not enjoy their company as much as yours.”

  “Where's Claude?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  Marcel barely spared her a glance. “He was unable to come today. Far too much to drink last night.”

  The waiter had appeared and was hovering. His eyes kept darting to Pierre, and Jasmine noted his hands were shaking as he took down their orders. The guy was frightened. Did he know who was sitting in the restaurant?

  Too nervous to eat much she ordered a salad.

  “I shall decline lunch and stick with the wine if you do not mind,” Eric said. A tiny pulse of compulsion threaded his words.

  Jasmine felt it and shivered.

  The food came quickly. Eric and the fat man spent the time in idle chatter, mostly about the city, which she did not bother to follow.

  A bottle of wine had been opened. Marcel and Eric drank it liberally. Jasmine, on the other hand, didn’t even take a sip. No alcohol to cloud her thoughts, she reminded herself.

  She felt Pierre’s eyes burning a hole in the side of her skull. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him watching, staring at her, unblinking. It was extremely creepy.

  She picked at her salad when it arrived, barely managing a few mouthfuls.

  This really didn’t feel right. Even her sixth sense was now doing a tiny little jingle in her head. Not a full-blown warning yet, but she recognized the feeling. They were in for trouble.

  Marcel sat forward and wiped his mouth with a napkin. His plate was clean.

  “The reason for the lunch is that Doctor Dasyurus want to meet you.”

  One of the vampire’s eyebrows rose with interest. “Does he, indeed? Why now?”

  Eric wasn’t letting any emotion apart from mild curiosity show, but Jasmine knew this had to excite him. This Doctor character was someone he was after. He could not give up the opportunity to meet him.

  The fast man smiled slyly. “He saw you at the party last night and asked for the meeting. I do not question his motives. He is the genius after all.”

  “I thought you said he wasn’t on the boat last night?” Jasmine questioned a little too sharply. Eric stiffened a little beside her. Damn why had she said anything? She had planned to keep her mouth shut, but things kept slipping out.

  Pierre shrugged one chubby shoulder. “A small lie.”

  The vampire lifted his glass of wine and held in in front of him for a moment. “Will he be joining us?”

  Marcel shook his head, watching as Eric drained his glass of its contents. “No. We will be joining him. There is a lab beneath this restaurant. We will be visiting him there if you are done with your wine?”

  Jasmine’s eyes widened slightly. A lab under this place? No wonder the staff looked edgy. This had to be a front for the arms dealer's other business.

  “Yes, indeed.” Eric took one long gulp of wine and placed the empty glass on the table.

  The next thing she knew both men were standing and pulling on their coats. Abandoning her salad, Jasmine got to her feet.

  Eric held her coat out for her and slipped it over her arms. He didn’t meet her gaze, though. His eyes never left Marcel.

  The restaurant had emptied out. When had that suddenly happened? The warning jingle in Jasmine's head had now become chiming church bells. Danger was imminent.

  Dread welled upside her. How could she tell Eric when the fat man and his muscled goon were within earshot?

  Marcel led the way towards the back of the place. Pierre shadowed their every step. Even the staff seemed to have vanished without a trace. Jasmine bit her lip. Something here was seriously wrong. She only hoped Eric could see it, too. The vamp was sharp. He had to know something was up. Maybe he just intended to play along?

  The kitchen was empty, like everyone had just gotten up and left for the day. This did not make sense.

  Marcel motioned to a lift in the corner. It looked like a service elevator of some kind.

  Pierre jabbed the button on the wall and a moment later the doors opened. The space fit all four of them easily. They all entered in a tense silence. The atmosphere was so thick you could almost choke on it. Marcel stood close to the doors next to Eric. The bodyguard positioned himself at the back. Without a word, the fat man pressed the control panel. The lift rattled into life and began to descend.

  They seemed to be going into the bowels of the restaurant. It felt like it took forever before they shuddered to a halt.

  The doors slid smoothly open. Tension knotted inside Jasmine’s stomach. She didn’t want to get out. Whatever lay ahead of them wasn’t going to be good. Why the hell had she gotten into the lift in the first place? If Eric was leaving this to the last minute he was cutting it close.

  “Come. It’s this way,” the fat man told them with a gesture of his hand.

  Marcel and Eric alighted first. When she didn’t make a move, Pierre’s hand shoved her in the back. Sending him a glare over her shoulder, she was met with cold hard eyes. She stepped out and looked around.

  The room seemed to be a basement. Old boxes were stacked against the wall. A thick layer of dust cover
ed them. Didn't seem to be used much. The sight in front of her though told another story.

  The door before them looked like it belonged to a vault. Thick and steel, it looked recently installed. It was all solid with no windows of any kind.

  Pierre moved past her towards it. She then noticed the electronic keypad to the left of the door. Without a word, the bodyguard typed a code into the keypad. With a hiss, the door began to swing open.

  Jasmine shivered as a chill rushed out to meet them. It felt more like they were entering a meat locker than somewhere you kept your valuables locked up. Why would someone be down here? She took a nervous step back. The lift doors were still open and reachable if necessary.

  Marcel was smirking. “The good doctor is very careful about security.” He gestured towards the door. “Have a look it’s ingenious.”

  Jasmine sensed Eric’s unease. At this point the situation was screaming ‘it’s a trap’ to her quite clearly. If it had not been clear to the vampire before, then it was now.

  “We will take your word for it, Marcel,” Eric replied with an easy smile.

  At that moment, Jasmine realised Pierre now had a gun trained on her head. She tensed.

  Shit, why hadn’t she noticed quicker?

  “I must insist, mon ami.” The smirk slid off the arms dealer's face. “No, don’t reply. I know about that persuasive tongue of yours.”

  She felt Eric’s power begin to rise. Its frosty kiss caressed against her skin as it began to swirl around them. The two men shivered.

  “Try anything, vampire, and the girl gets a bullet in the head.” Pierre’s tone was confident and smug. “You may be powerful, but I doubt even you are faster than a bullet.”

  Eric’s power abruptly dropped away. He stood unnaturally still beside her. She had to wonder if he was now regretting let her come along. In her mind, she was pretty certain that if he had been alone, he would have dealt with both men easily.

  “What’s going on?” Jasmine asked, knowing full well Eric would want to know. It looked like his cover was blown. They knew he was a vampire, but how?

  “You can drop the act. I know you work for Scotland Yard, Miss Hunter.” Marcel’s voice was cold and unfriendly. “And you, Mr. Jeger, if that is really your name, are in the employ of the French government.”

  Pierre nudged his gun in the direction of the open freezer. He wanted them to get in.

  They edged towards it slowly. Jasmine almost stumbled over her feet, but the vampire's hand on her arm steadied her.

  “It pains me that my own country has decided to turn on me like this,” Marcel said with a sigh as he fished out his handkerchief. “My revenge, though, will be swift and sweet.” He started to pat at his perspiring, bald head. Annoyance was written all over his face.

  “You can’t do this,” Jasmine blurted out as they got closer to the door. Not getting inside did not look like an option. Her eyes darted back to the lift. Maybe if she could get out of the way, Eric could attack. Almost as if he had sensed her thoughts, his hand tightened on her arm. It was clear to her then. He didn’t want her to do anything stupid. It looked like the freezer was happening. Fuck.

  “Of course I can, ma chérie.” the fat man scowled, as if she had insulted him. “You had a last meal didn’t you? That was me being generous.”

  Pierre wiggled the gun from side to side. “Get inside now. No funny business or I will shoot you.”

  The frigidity of the room engulfed them as they stepped over the threshold. Goosebumps rose over every inch of Jasmine’s skin. One glance confirmed it was a small walk-in freezer. Ice coated the walls, the floors. It glistened white in the artificial light above them.

  “Enjoy your last moments together, mon ami. I doubt you will last long. Your friend Mr. Smith did not,” Marcel’s voice told them from behind.

  The door closed with an ominous click. Pivoting on the spot they found themselves trapped.

  “Fuck,” Jasmine muttered. “You should have just attacked them or whatever you planned to do. I could have taken care of myself.”

  “I had no wish to risk your life, Jasmine,” Eric snapped back. “I doubt you would have easily avoided a bullet in the brain. I could not chance it.”

  Shooting forwards, Eric placed his palms flat against the door. A breath hissed out between his teeth and Jasmine thought she heard him swear.

  “Reinforced steel and warded with magic so deep, it is making my skin crawl,” he muttered in disgust. He dropped his hands and stepped back beside her.

  One stark light lit the space they stood in. Jasmine was thankful it remained on. She had a feeling it was the fat man’s doing. No doubt he wanted them to be able to see each other in this freezing environment.

  “What about Raoul? Can’t you contact him?” She knew her tone was nervous.

  Being trapped in a freezer made her a little on edge. Also knowing the powerful vamp with her couldn’t bust out was more than worrying. Even now the chill of the room was working its way through the layers of her clothes. Her breath was coming out in tiny, white puffs.

  Eric’s eyes met her. “The magical wards prevent me from using my telepathy. They have done their homework well. Only certain ancient magic works.”

  Panic was doing a slow creep up her back. With a shudder, she began to rub her arms.

  “Fucking fantastic. How are we supposed to get out of here now?”

  Eric shrugged out of his leather jacket. Realising his intent, she quickly pulled off her woollen coat. The vampire gently, but quickly helped her into his coat. It was still deliciously warm from his body heat. The smell of snow and pine curled itself around her. Hastily she struggled back into her thick woollen coat over the top. It was a tight fit, but she managed to get everything on, buttoned, and zipped.

  “We wait.” His tone was snappy. “Raoul will come looking for us when he cannot contact me. He knows the address of this place and Marcel was stupid enough not to take us somewhere else.”

  Jasmine found this did not alleviate anxiety levels. It seemed to be getting colder by the minute. Were they lowering the temperature from outside?

  “We might freeze to death first,” she decided to point out. How long would that take? Hours? Minutes?

  “The cold does not affect me,” Eric replied in a low, deep voice. “I have mastery of it, but I cannot make it warmer in here for you.”

  She shot him a disbelieving look. “So I will fucking freeze to death alone?”

  He flicked her an irritated look. “I will not allow that to happen, Jasmine.”

  Why was he being so harsh with her? It was not her fault they were in this mess. She had been following his bloody plan. Scowling at him, she realised he was not even looking at her any more.

  The vampire’s eyes were running over every inch of the little room. His facial features were tight. She could see a nerve twitching in his jaw. Tension was radiating off his strapping body in a way she could not ignore.

  Was he nervous? No, this was more like fear.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yes.” The answer came out in a growl. His gaze dropped to hers.

  With a sigh, he ran a hand through his tousled hair with agitation.

  “I am not fond of enclosed spaces,” he admitted softly. “This is quite a small room with no windows. I find it unsettling.”

  Jasmine stared at him incredulously. The vampire was scared of something. Was he for real?

  “I didn’t know vampires could have phobias.” She couldn’t keep the curiosity out of her voice.

  Irritation flickered over his features. “It is not a phobia.”

  Apparently the vamp didn’t like admitting to having a weakness. Then again, neither did she.

  “I don’t like spiders if that helps.” She stamped her feet trying to keep them warm. The coats were keeping some heat in, but she knew that might not last.

  Eric snorted. “That is not the same thing.”

  Jasmine tried not to roll her eyes. Just becaus
e they were different fears, did not mean hers was any less frightening. He probably did not like the fact she knew he was scared or something.

  She glanced around the space. Nothing else was in it apart from them. Nothing they could use to help open the thick metal door. She moved to the door and pressed her hands against it. When the cold metal practically burnt her with its icy bite, she yanked them back.

  “I’m starting to feel like I’m just stuck in a fucking Bond movie with an evil villain and everything.”

  Eric’s deep rumbling chuckle filled the room. “I have never heard you swear so much.”

  “I’m fucking nervous, OK?”

  Jasmine didn’t know how long she could last trapped in the freezer. She really didn’t want to find out. Hopefully Raoul would figure out something was wrong quickly and come to their rescue. She really did not want to think of the alternative—for her at least.

  An arm coiled around her waist. The vampire pulled her against his chest. She went willingly, turning and pressing herself against him as much as she could. Body heat was essential in situations like this. Jasmine didn’t know how long that would be able to last, though. The vampire might not die from freezing, but his body was still getting colder. The more the temperature dropped, the more heat they would lose.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his big chest.

  “The main thing is not to panic, right?” she said, closing her eyes. The thud of his heart was reassuring. “Raoul will come and get us out soon.”

  “I agree. Panic would do us little good. It is best if you conserve body heat,” he said quietly against her hair.

  His big hands moved up and down her back briskly. The action warmed her a little through the layers of clothing. It wasn’t sexual and she knew he was just trying to keep her warm, but that didn’t stop desire from singing through her blood. Delicious tingles tightened her breasts.

  With a sigh, she remembered Marcel’s parting words.

  “They killed Mr. Smith, didn’t they?” Jasmine asked softly.

  “Yes, I fear he is no more from what was said,” Eric replied in a calm even tone.