Jasmine

By Brenda Bailey

Jasmine Archer’s life became a living nightmare of fear, hostility and resentment after being forced into the shadowy world of the Blood Drinkers by the cruel and iron hand of her stepfather, Emel Bowerstand.
Forced to live in darkness, drinking the blood of the innocent, beautiful Jasmine is trapped in a world without hope.
Unable to abide her stepfather’s tyranny, Jasmine runs away, vowing to leave behind her life as it was and starts anew. But can she find love and acceptance in a world where no one knows who or what she really is?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brenda Bailey
• Release date: Oct 19, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458071651

Brenda Bailey

I live in Rural Indiana. I read and write erotic horror novels! Visit my official website to browse my novels in print. "Leave behind the ordinary and join me in the horrific." -Brenda Bailey

Book preview

Jasmine

Black Winter Begins

The Eternal Moonlight Collection, volume one

Brenda Bailey

Published by Horrorotica at Smashwords.com. Copyright 2010 Brenda Bailey.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

"I dedicate this book to these real-life moonlight beauties without whom this new series would not be possible, thank you, girls! - B. Bailey

Jasmine Ochsenrider

Stephanie Carlson

Marissa Wyrick

Chapter One

Jasmine sat on the edge of the rooftop of the empty Summerset building, her face aglow in the silver moonlight, her eyes a shade of sparkling russet as she watched the streets below.

This was not a popular part of town. This was a part of town that stayed hidden in the shadows, a part of town that no one wanted to acknowledge or admit that it even existed.

This was the part of town where the poor and homeless roamed, searching endlessly for a dry place to sleep, or for some sort of makeshift dwelling to block the cold winter winds.

Jasmine spent her nights among them, watching from the darkness, joining them in secret.

She could understand their plight; understand their need to belong in a world that shunned them, for she too was, in a sense, homeless.

In the back of her mind’s eye, she recalled the family she had left behind. Her mother left her real father for the wealth and power that her now stepfather, Emel had promised her.

She could still remember the pleading look in her father’s eyes and the tears silvered in her Grandmother Ina’s dark eyes when Jasmine was taken away from them forever, shrouded in a gaze of heartbreak that quickly turned to terror at the hands of Emel.

Looking up into the briskness of night, she couldn’t help but picture the sun and how it used to wake her up when it glistened over the horizon in glorious colors of gold. She always enjoyed feeling the warmth of the sun shining down on her face. She always loved watching the ever-changing face of the landscape where the waters used to run deep, the winds blew and the clouds moved by.

All of those things that she once cherished were now gone thanks to her cold-hearted stepfather and her self-centered mother, Marie.

Jasmine’s thoughts were wrenched elsewhere when she heard the sound of gunfire ricocheting through the streets below, followed by the anguish cry of a mortal in danger.

Drifting down until her feet touched the ice cold pavement, Jasmine ducked into the shadows of an abandoned alleyway in search of food. Her stomach growled and her insides gnawed unmercifully with hunger. She had been several days without nourishment and the time had finally come for her to seek out sustenance.

Her eyes combed the darkness, searching, until she came across a kitten shivering under the crude shelter of a broken down box.

Though her stomach tightened painfully with hunger, she turned away, searching elsewhere.

With luck, she came across a rat scurrying along the bottom of an empty trashcan. With trembling hands, she held the rodent fast and clamped her teeth into its back, her fangs piercing the oily flesh, her lips sucking hungrily on the warm, fresh blood that flowed freely across her tongue, bringing her temporary relief.

She savored the crimson vintage, her body eased in tension and her stomach was now comfortably full. Easing the dead rat from her mouth, she licked the droplets from her teeth and then carefully dropped the carcass behind the trashcan.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she emerged from the blanket of darkness, startled to when she found herself standing face to face with a woman and child huddled behind a stack of crates, swaddled in layers of ragged clothing, shivering against the snowy air.

Jasmine’s eyes met and held with the child’s, both carrying with it an unspoken providence of understanding.

Hello. Jasmine spoke at last, though her voice sounded small in the ray of gloom that carried in the bleak lane.

Hello. The child said, quivering as her mother held her tight against her bosom.

Are you in need of help, child? the mother asked, scooting to one side to make room on the crude crate that formed a bench of sorts for them to sit. We have room and an extra blanket if you need it.

She stared in disbelief. The mother and child obviously had little to keep themselves warm, but yet they still offered what modest sum they had to her, a mere stranger.

Jasmine, however, no longer felt the cold. Whether the nights were dropping to subzero temperatures or the weather climbed to a soaring one hundred degrees, it made no difference. The elements were powerless to her.

She knelt down on one knee, her eyes raking over them, studying the way they stayed so knotted together, their breath rising in the cold air like silver mist. I am fine, but I humbly thank you for your kind offer of sharing your blankets with me.

The woman pressed the corner of her blanket over her mouth, muffling her already soft-spoken voice. Are you sure? We got plenty here.

Jasmine smiled, but shook her head. I will be fine, but I am concerned about your own well being. It is quite cold out; we should get you inside a shelter.

The woman trembled and then nodded. I ain’t got no place to go. It’s just me and Marissa here.

But surely you and your child could freeze sitting outside in such weather. She argued; worry playing across her face when she saw just how hard the little girl was shivering beneath her mother’s protective embrace. There must be a place that you can get out of the cold, even if it is for only a short while.

The mission is full, no more beds. The woman said flatly. The church is also full; we were turned away this evening.

Have you no family?

Nope, my mother is dead and I don’t know my father. She replied, grasping another blanket from the crate and vigorously wrapping Marissa in another layer of coverage. Marissa’s dad, he done took off with another woman.

Jasmine drew in a deep breath, knowing how alone one can be without family. She too, was in the same boat.

Without another word, she left the alleyway and trekked down the faintly lit walkway of Barger Street, her eyes taking in the desolate surroundings.

A man layered in raggedy coats and scarves sat on the edge of the street tipping a bottle of scotch to his lips as he mumbled to himself, singing woefully under his breath. Another group of homeless men stood over a trashcan fire, warming their frosty fingers over the wavering blaze that carried dry smoke into the starry sky.

A white wave of light averted her attention, causing her to crane her neck toward the glimmering sign of a small soup kitchen.

Going to the window that took up the entire store front, she peered curiously inside.

The building housed several long, white bench-like tables with a few impoverished people inside eating hungrily from paper plates.

She spied a piano against one wall, the hooks on the wall lined with coats and gloves. She detected the scent of fried chicken, milk, coffee and baking bread, things that she once held dear, now had no meaning to her. She herself had not eaten anything solid in nearly four hundred years.

Can I help you, Miss? a voice came from behind, startling her.

Jasmine whirled around and found herself staring at a young man with dark brown hair and kindly green eyes and a chiseled jaw. He held out his hand in greeting, but she just stood dumbfounded.

Uh…Miss, can I help you? he repeated, stooping over slightly to meet her gaze since he towered her five foot frame with his six foot stature. Do you need something hot to eat?

No, I do not. She murmured, swallowing hard her embarrassment.

He smiled, holding open the door to the establishment. Would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee? It’s awfully cold to be standing outside alone.

Jasmine looked in around him and then nodded. I would like to come inside, but I don’t drink coffee.

You don’t have to have coffee. We serve hot chocolate, too.

She said nothing, following him inside.

The founding held several more tables seated in the back, long fluorescent lights hanging overhead gave the business an eerie, but serene glow.

She followed Jordan to a long counter way where two women worked diligently, one at a commercial-sized stove, the other stacking paper plates and cups.

You gals got any hot chocolate left. I have a friend here in need of something to warm her up. He said light-heartedly.

The woman stacking the plates looked up with blue eyes and hair the color of the sun that Jasmine had not seen in over four centuries. She looked no older than herself, before she was forced into the dark side by her cruel stepfather.

Yeah, of course we have plenty. She smiled, plucking a towel from the counter and wiping her hands. Hi, my name’s Amanda Owens, and you are?

Jasmine.

Is it just Jasmine or do you have a last name?

She lowered her eyes slightly. I have a last name, it is… she paused, recalling her biological father’s name, Patrick Archer. That was her true name. Her stepfather’s name was Bowerstand, but it was a name she would never claim. To do so would be a dishonor to her father, herself and her beliefs. Archer, my name is Jasmine Archer.

Have a seat anywhere, Jasmine and I’ll get you that hot chocolate. Amanda replied, sweeping her hand the length of the room.

Jasmine nodded, following Jordan to the end of one table facing the north window. She spied an elderly woman slurping hungrily from a bowl, her clothing tattered, her wrinkled skin taunt over her protruding cheek bones. The old woman nodded in silent hello and then continued to eat. Jasmine returned her smile.

How long have you been standing there? Jordan asked, unzipping his coat.

Not very long, but the lights attracted me and I wanted to see more.

Slipping out of his bulky cover, Jordan studied Jasmine. She had sleek dark hair and the most beautiful of midnight dark eyes. Her skin glowed to perfection under the moon and stars. He wondered if he had the right to fall in love with someone of her stature. He could read by her clothing that she belonged to a wealthy family. Her blouse was stitched in silver silk, her pants black taffeta and her fingernails were in perfect manicure. She was defiantly not from this neighborhood. He wondered if she was a runaway.

One other thing truly puzzled him, Jasmine wore no coat. She walked about in the freezing winter night in just her regular clothing.

Where’s your coat? he asked, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them.

My coat? I don’t know, I’m in no need of a coat. She said simply.

Are you freaking kidding? It’s ten degrees and falling out there, you’ll freeze, girl.

With wide eyes, Jasmine quickly noted the attire the mortals were donning, heavy sweaters, coats, gloves and winter hats. Looking up, even Amanda strolled their way wearing jeans, boots and a weighty hooded sweatshirt.

Oh, what I meant to say is that I have forgotten my coat at my…house and that is why I am not wearing one. She blurted, feeling foolish.

Do you live around here?

No…not really.

How’d you end up out here?

I was walking and as I said before, I saw the lights and I looked inside.

I see, just hanging out and stuff? he asked.

Sort of like that.

Amanda placed cups of foaming chocolate in front of Jasmine and Jordan, sliding down into the seat next to them, her own cup in hand. I don’t think I ever seen you around here. Are you new in town?

I am new, yes.

Welcome to the neighborhood. Amanda chuckled, reaching out and offering her hand in greeting. Where do you live? My mom and I live in an apartment above the soup kitchen. Mom usually runs the place during the day and then I take over at night when she sleeps.

Jasmine smiled, liking the feel of Amanda’s hand in her’s. She could feel true sincerity and concern for the community coursing through her soul like the hot fresh blood that pumped through her body. Jasmine read her mind and knew she had a purpose in mind, a reason behind her and her mother’s hard work.

You were homeless once? She heard herself say without thinking.

Amanda jerked her hand back, her eyes wide. What?

You and your mother were homeless once and that is why you work hard to help the neighborhood.

How…how did you know that? she asked and then looking at Jordan, she gave him a playful nudge with her elbow. You’re already boring her with my stupid life’s stories, aren’t you?

I only met her a few minutes ago. He shrugged, also looking at her in surprise. I didn’t tell her anything about you and Nancy, honest.

Reaching up and nervously running her fingers through her long, dark hair, she swallowed hard her obvious ignorance on concealing her true identity. It was a mistake she sometimes let slip without thinking.

I assume most that serve the less fortunate were once in the same situation themselves and can relate to their plight. She blurted, thinking quickly.

Huh? Jordan scratched his head quizzically.

Amanda threw back her head and laughed. You get an A, Jasmine. You’re correct.

I get an A?

My dad ran off when I was a kid, around ten or so, you know. After he left, we were without an income and loaded with debt. We lost our house and everything.

What happened?

We were homeless for almost a year and then my grandmother took us in. I graduated from high school and Mom got a job and together we bought this awesome building.

Jasmine smiled, listening attentively.

There’s a small apartment upstairs and we kind of got this idea about opening the place for the homeless, offering free meals and stuff to people in need, that kind of thing.

That is a very kind thing to do, helping those in need. Jasmine replied, feeling almost guilty for living for centuries in lavish luxury, surrounded by fancy mansions, the best clothing and wealth beyond belief. But all the riches