Fangs Are Not Always What They Seem

Tears formed in Jasmine's eyes the moment she opened the door. Detective Gerald Fitzsimmons glanced at his partner-in-training Maria Del Gato then sighed, "Mrs. Peete, may we come in? I have information about your missing husband." His demeanor only confirmed her suspicions. The detective never grew comfortable delivering bad news.

Six months later:

Jasmine's arms and legs trembled, yet she held Warrior II pose. "Breathe. You can do this. Just one more breath." Her eyes burned as the sweat streamed down her face. Transitioning to the Plank pose, Jasmine wiped the sweat from her eyes.

After the vigorous practice and cool down the class finished in Corpse pose. Eyes closed, Jasmine sighed, "Ahhhh! Corpse pose at last." The warmed muscles melted, and the tension faded away.

While the other class members were leaving, Laura Mills pulled Jasmine aside, "Will you join me for tea tonight?" Laura owned the Gentle Tortoise Yoga Studio. Jasmine nodded, "I would love to."

Over the last several months, tea time developed into a tradition for Laura and Jasmine. Laura would brew Romani tea in the antique teapot given to her from her Grandma Sabina.

Jasmine stared down at the liquid in her cup for several seconds. Looking up at Laura, "Since Grant's disappearance, you have been a good friend to me. I enjoy our time together."

After another sip of tea, Jasmine continued, "And you are so patient while listening to me vent. You must tire of hearing the same things over and over again. Your friendship and this class have helped me tremendously process through my grief. After each practice, I am refreshed and peaceful. I want you to know how much I appreciate you and this studio."

Laura smiled, "Thank you. I value our friendship, as well.

Laura glanced up out of the corner of her eye before turning to Jasmine, "I don't know if this is too soon or not. Have you ever considered becoming a Yoga teacher? You have attended classes for six months now. I have seen so much growth. Especially after all that you have suffered."

Jasmine blushed, "I truly appreciate the compliment, but I am not sure I am ready yet. I need more time. Besides, I am not as flexible as Roberta or most of the other ladies in the class."

Laura reached over placing her hand on Jasmine's arm, "Jasmine, don't sell yourself short. Yoga is more than about what poses you can do or how flexible you are. It is a way of life, a philosophy for living. Besides, you are more advanced than many of my longtime students. I see how the other students in my classes respect you. Think about my offer. I would love to have you teach here with me.

A broad smile formed across Laura's face, "Besides, my inner gypsy sees from the tea leaves. Your life is about to change, drastically."

Jasmine laughed, "Inner Gypsy, huh. Is a tall, dark, handsome man gonna sweep me off of my feet? Or, better yet, my tall, dark, handsome husband will return to me from the dead."

"And yes, I will consider your offer to become a teacher."

---

Darkness met the ladies as they walked out of the studio. For safety, they always left together. Jasmine scanned the parking lot for lurkers while Laura locked the doors. Despite no other cars or people around, an uneasiness settled over Jasmine. "Is someone watching me? It must be the caffeine in the tea. Caffeinated drinks on an empty stomach make me edgy."

A gentle summer rain had started falling. Looking up toward the dark sky, Jasmine allowed the soothing drops to run down her face. Laura shouted, "Goodnight." Then got into her Prius. Jasmine snapped back to reality and got into her car, "Goodnight. Thanks for the tea."

Before leaving the parking lot, she glanced at the shopping list on her cell phone, "Oh no. I am out of almond milk. Do I want to stop in this mess? I am dirty, sweaty, and need a shower. Quickie-Pickie is on the way home: Run in, use self-checkout, done."

As she turned her head to back out of the parking spot, in her periphery, she saw two red glowing eyes over in the shadows. She jerked around for a second look but saw no one. "My mind must be playing tricks on me."

Eyes darting left then right, she exited the parking lot.

---

Jasmine parked in the nearest spot available at Quickie-Pickie. To save on cooking supper this late, She picked up a rotisserie chicken and caesar salad from the food bar.

The unease returned the moment she exited the store. She stepped back into the foyer to arm the pepper spray canister on her key ring. "Go ahead! I am ready."

With pepper spray pointed toward her car, Jasmine jerked the driver side rear door open. "Thank God. No carjacker."

Jasmine reached over to the passenger side to set the groceries on the floor. Again she saw the red eyes glaring at her from the darkest corner. She jerked up straight and no one. "I.AM.LOSING.MY.FREAKING.MIND!"

Fumbling with her keys, "Please start!" The engine turned over immediately. Jasmine mouthed, "I love you, Subaru." She laid rubber as she drove out of the store parking lot.

On the way home, several times, she peered into the rearview mirror. Not a single car following behind. "What is getting into you? No more horror movies at night alone."

After a long sigh, her paranoia subsided. Her last memory of Grant drifted before her mind's eye:

The last time she saw him, he was leaving for a meeting. After a long sensual kiss, He looked into my eyes then said, "Save this for later. I should be back around ten after the meeting with Dr. Sange. I love you."

Working on his doctorate in Eastern European Literature, Grant went to meet a Romanian historian. The Professor guest lectured for a night class on Carpathian Folklore.

Jasmine never worried when Grant went out at night. At six foot three, two hundred pounds plus muscular frame, and former Special Forces, he could take care of himself.

As she remembered his gentle smile and kind green eyes, tears formed, "I miss you. Why did you leave me?" The ache swept in like an unwelcome guest.

Six months ago, her husband Grant disappeared. The police found a fingerprint in the blood which matched Grant's military prints. Also, forensics matched a sample from Grant's Search Your Ancestor's DNA test with the blood at the crime scene. The police suspected foul play, but never found the body.

---

Pulling into the driveway, Jasmine wasted no time. She grabbed her yoga mat and groceries. With the house key in hand, raced to the door. Almost slipping on the wet sidewalk, she slid into the door. Jasmine fumbled getting the key into the lock. Upon entering the house, she slammed the door shut and bolted it. Leaning against the door, she sighed. "Now might be the time for a home security system."

After dinner, a shower, and catching up on her DVR'd TV shows; Jasmine drifted off to sleep. Grant invaded her dreams. In her dream, he seemed different. Frightening, almost ghoulish, his eyes had a red haze over them and long sharp canines. Despite his terrifying appearance, she saw through to the tenderness. Grant would open his shirt to expose his beating heart, then mouth, "My heart will always beat for you. If you will, we will be together forever." Then Jasmine would wake up in a cold sweat and tears.

Startled awake, Jasmine looked over at her alarm clock. "2:22! The same dream for the seventh night in a row. Awakened at 2:22?"

Earlier tonight, Jasmine had discussed this recurring dream with Laura during tea:

"I know it sounds crazy. But, I wonder if Grant is trying to communicate with me from the grave. I believe 2:22 AM might be the time when he passed away."

Laura nodded, "You know, anything is possible. My Grandma Sabina, a medium and fortune-teller her whole life, swore by the supernatural. She claimed one of her distant ancestors still walked the earth and was at least a thousand years old."

Pulling herself out of bed, she staggered into the master bathroom to relieve herself.

While sitting on the toilet, she heard a creaking noise, "What was that?" Listening intently, She held her breath. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Partially open, the bathroom door obstructed her view of the bedroom entrance.

A shadow spread across the light, spilling out of the bathroom. Jasmine covered her mouth.

From behind the door, a black-clad man appeared. A black ski mask covered all but his eyes and mouth. His deadly gaze locked on Jasmine. With a long knife in his right hand, He poised himself to attack.

Frozen with fear, Jasmine breathed, "What do you want?"

The man closed the distance between them in two steps. Before Jasmine could react, he grabbed her in a raptor-like grip. Yanking her off the toilet, he flung her out of the bathroom.

Jasmine Landed on the bedroom floor, hitting her head on impact. Stars danced before her closed eyes. The room spun, and her head throbbed.

Before she could recover the man pinned her to the floor, his weight crushing her, she gasped for air. His foul breath stinking of whiskey and cigarettes nauseated her.

The floor felt rough against her bare-skinned bottom as she tried to shimmy out from under him. He put the knife against her throat. Through gritted teeth, "STOP STRUGGLING NOW. If you do as I say, you live. If not, I will cut your throat."

While her assailant struggled to get his pants down, Jasmine's screamed, "Grant! Save me!"

Immediately, the French Doors exploded. Shards of glass flew across the room, pelting the back of Jasmine's attacker. Her attacker rolled off her to confront the new intruder. Relief from the man's weight, Jasmine inhaled deep catching her breath.

The explosive entrance startled both Jasmine and her attacker. With his pants down to his knees, the man stumbled to get up. He stood while pulling his trousers up.

Jasmine looked for an escape. Between her and the bedroom door was her attacker. The second intruder blocked her other option through the French doors. Jasmine crawled over to the farthest corner away from the two men and watched in horror.

Her attacker pointed his knife at the other man, "You are a dead man."

The second man stood inside the doorway. The misty rain rolling in behind him gave the newcomer an eery appearance.

Through red hazed eyes, he stared down Jasmine's attacker.

Smiling to reveal, long sharp canines, "Walt, you are too late for that."

Jasmine looked in disbelief. The man standing several feet away is the man from her dreams. She yelled, "Grant is that you?" He did not acknowledge her. He maintained eye contact with the other man.

The man lunged forward and stabbed Grant in the abdomen. The blade entered to the hilt. Unfazed by the assault, Grant grabbed the man's forearm and pulled the knife out. Then pulled the man's ski mask off to reveal his former SF Buddy, Walt Brannigan. "Walt, you always had an eye for Jasmine. I understood that because she is a beautiful and desirable woman. You have crossed the line. Your envy is your undoing."

Grant jerked the man's arm so hard that bones cracked. "Ahhh, what the hell did you do to my arm!" The knife fell from his hand. Bone protruded from Walt's forearm.

With the other hand, Grant grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him off the floor. Shaking him like a rag doll, "You dare harm this woman I love." Then with the violence of a hungry lion, Grant bit into the man's neck. Blood spewed across the floor as Grant spit a plug of flesh from his mouth.

Grant steadily drank from the wound. At first, the predator who became prey kicked and struggled then went limp. A residual of blood streamed down the man's clothes pooling on the floor.

With both hands, Grant gripped the dead man's head. Pulling, he ripped the head off the shoulders, then tossed head and body out the French doors.

Terrified by the abject violence, Jasmine closed her eyes and balled up in the corner.

Grant walked over, squatted down, then gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Honey, you are safe now. It is me, Grant."

Though still in shock, Jasmine looked at him wide-eyed and speechless.

Several silent moments passed. "Why hasn't Grant attacked me? She searched his eyes, "The red haze is gone. The tenderness has returned to his eyes."

Grant extended his hand. Jasmine grabbed his hand, and he helped her up.

She backed away several steps. "Are you going to drink my blood also?" She glanced over toward the french doors, "Then kill me like him?"

Grant's eyes teared with tears of blood and water, "My love, I will never harm you. I will die first."

"Grant, if you love me so much, where have you been? Why wait all this time to show up? For six months, my broken heart grieved for you."

Grant walked over to the French doors. With his back turned. "I regret allowing you to suffer like that."

Turning around, he faced Jasmine "I am sorry. I don't expect you to understand. After this new birth, I could not come to you.

With her hands on her hips and head cocked to the side, "Try me. Try and make me understand why you let me think you were dead all these months."

Grant fidgeted like a nervous child, "I could not reveal myself to you until I was no longer a danger to you. First, I needed to master my blood lust. For my kind, that takes time. I have the blood lust under control. Now, I could treat arterial wounds with blood flying around with no effect on me.

He walked over stood in front of Jasmine, and peered down into her eyes. "Every night for months, I watched you from a distance. My heart ached more each time I saw you. I longed to be with you and hold you in my arms; To feel your soft warmth against my flesh. Finally, ready to reveal myself to you, I prepared the way by sending you dreams. If you will have me, I am here in the flesh ready to restore what you and I have lost."

Jasmine searched his eyes. With tears of blood and water staining his cheeks, Jasmine sensed Grant's sincerity. At that moment, Jasmine transitioned from fear to hurt then empathy. "My love you have suffered as much as I." She reached out and pulled him into an embrace, "I love you."

They embraced for several moments then Grant broke away and paused. Cocking his head from side to side, he listened.

"Grant! What is it?

Some of the red haze had returned to his eyes. "We have a little time. I sense the enemy approaching. I fear that your connection to me has endangered your life further. My race has deadly enemies. My enemies are relentless in their hunt to destroy my kind."

Concerned, Jasmine asked, "What enemy? And why are we in danger? You are very powerful."

Grant sighed, "A secret organization known as the Nosferatu Extermination Allegiance. They have dogged my sire, Vladimir Sange, and our kind for millennia. This organization hates us. They hunt us and plan for our annihilation.

Tonight, I planned to come to the house after your yoga class; but was delayed. The NEA had twenty-five hunters stationed around your home. I eliminated them one at a time before they called in reinforcements. I got here in the nick of time before Walt had the chance to rape you. I heard your cry just as I arrived."

"Thank goodness. You arrived when you did. I thought I was a dead woman. Jasmine squeezed Grant.

"How does Walt fit in all this? Was he working with the NEA?"

"Walt was a mercenary hired by the NEA. Through their intelligence gathering, the NEA found out you were my wife. They had hoped that Walt would reach out and befriend you. They hoped to draw me by making me jealous and careless. Walt had ulterior motives. He was envious of our relationship."

Jasmine shook her head, "I hardly knew Walt. I saw him a few times at the compound."

Grant pulled Jasmine back into an embrace, "Walt commented all the time on how hot you were and how lucky I was. I had my suspicions by the way he looked at you. But, we had lost contact after I left the army. I never considered that he was capable of rape."

She looked back, cocking her head slightly, "So, you are a Vampire?

Grant shook his head, "Yes, I am a vampire and no to what you are about to ask. Vampires do not need permission to enter your house. My timing happened to coincide with your cry for help.

"You are no longer safe. We must leave soon. If you desire, I will set you up with a new identity, and you live your life and grow old."

Grant paused, "Or, will you come with me? You will always be my love. I long for us to be together again. But I will not force this new existence on you. I would never drink from you except by permission and only for your rebirth. Our blood must mix in my veins like semen with the ovum. Then you will drink from me to become one of us.

We are a civilized race and drink from blood bags and donors. We do not kill except in defense. Tonight's brutality is an exception. My rage and desire to protect you overcame me. Besides, It sends a message for anyone coming after us that we mean business.

Jasmine grabbed his hand, "I will come with you."

I need to get some clothes on if I am leaving now. Do I need to pack?" Grant shook his head no and smiled. "Sweetheart, the coven provides all our needs, including clothing. We must get to the safety of our coven."

While dressing, "What will I tell Laura? Laura is my best friend and a gifted yoga instructor."

Grant smiled, "Laura is one of my kind. Her uncle many generations removed is Vladimir Sange."

Jasmine laughed, "My friend, Yoga instructor, and tea partner is a vampire?"

As Grant put his arms around her, they walked out the French doors, "Yes, I am afraid, so. Laura is very fond of you. The coven is leaving soon for the Adirondack Mountains of Upstate, New York. Laura will join us there."

Two Weeks Later:

Eyes Watering after staring at the computer screen for several hours, Detective Fitzsimmons sits back and stretches, "These danged computers drive me crazy."

Del Gato's head popped around the corner of his cubicle startling the detective, "Hey Fitz. The lab results are back from the Peete residence crime scene. Guess who's blood is on the knife? Grant Peete. You know, the guy who disappeared and only his blood, and a fingerprint found. Also, the decapitated corpse is the head and body of a Walter Brannigan. Grant and Brannigan served in Army Special Forces together."

Walt scratched his buzzed gray head, "Any word on Mrs. Peete, or is she still missing?"

Handing Walt a large black coffee, "Oh, here is the coffee I promised you. No word on Jasmine Peete. The rumor I heard over at the lab is that this crime was an occult ritual. Some speculate that the occultist abducted Mrs. Peete for a human sacrifice.

Fitz scowled, "Where does Drake come up with these crazy conspiracies. He is a forensic scientist."

"Fitz the knife. The bone handle knife has occult symbols all over the handle, and the blade is silver. The chief is bringing in an occult expert to look at the evidence. Get this. His name is Abraham Van Helsing."

Fitz took a drink of the tepid coffee, "I like my coffee hot. Who?"

Maria laughed, "Sorry about the coffee. I was held up by Drake in the lab. Haven't you read the book or seen the movie Dracula? Van Helsing is the vampire expert that helps them track and kill Dracula. You know, the vampire."

Fitzsimmons sighed, "A vampire hunter? What is this department becoming? Retirement is looking better."

© Don Feazelle 2019