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
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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.
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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.