Disclaimer: I own these characters so far, Jasmine, Daniel, Rick.... Okay? But the concept of the Night World and any others not mentioned are NOT mine. I mean, duh!
Please do R&R but remember its my first attempt and might be kinda silly.
Chapter 1
"Stop now Jasmine. You've had enough."
A large hand reached out and swiftly jerked the bottle from her grasp and, eyes briefly flashing angrily the slender girl whirled to face him. Rick gave an involuntary wince at the look that registered on his friends face- for an instant her face contorted with fury and her eyes were full of frustrated emotion- and then it was gone, a fake cheery mask slipped back in place.
"I don't think so Rick." Jasmine make a grab for her bottle of beer but Rick effortlessly held it out of her reach. What a jerk. He was easily a head taller than her, with a muscular, bulky frame and Jasmine gave up and turned away, heading back to the bar. Rick struggled through the throng of seething, rocking people inside the claustrophobic interior of the club.
"Jasmine!" He pushed forward and caught her arm and jerked her back. She turned again to face him and in the flashing strobe lights he could clearly see that flash of anger again on her face. She'd been like that all evening, switching between angry restlessness and fake, empty cheer. But its not as though Jasmine's been particularly easy to read lately. Not for a while.
"Jas..."
"Look, Rick, I just want a drink. Okay? I can handle it!"
Sporadic bursts of neon light lit up her features, her slim, heart shaped face, her wavy auburn hair framing it, and giving her usually grey- green eyes a brighter greenish tint.
"Let me go dammit!" She snapped and jerked out of his grip.
"Look I'm fine," she said quickly, giving him a carefree smile, an awkward twist of her lips,
Rick shook his head, suddenly and abruptly angry at her, at himself for not knowing why she was acting so weird lately. "Jasmine, what's wrong?" he asked flatly. "Are you okay?"
Am I okay? At that question Jasmine almost laughed bitterly. Was she okay. Yeah, Rick, I'm fine. In case you haven't noticed I've been having a wild time lately. I just love when my boyfriend screws me over. I just love not having a mom. I just love to have my family die away because of me. Me.
The guilt, the anger, the despair swelled up like a burst of bitter liquor, a tide to drown in, but she forced it back and let the coldness swirl over her features. God, it was so easy to pretend. It was so easy to fool them all. Jasmine pasted a smile on her face but unexpectedly began to wonder to herself, maybe it was time to tell him, to tell someone, anyone-
A heavy weight slammed into her back and she was thrown forward. Rick caught her.
"Hey, sorry babe," leered the guy who'd bumped into her drunkenly. "Real sorry..." The guy disappeared back into the anonymous throng of dancing people and Jasmine's longing to tell Rick vanished. She wanted to be like them. She wanted to dance in a crowd of strangers until she dissolved in the music, she wanted to not think. Wordlessly she pushed herself out of Rick's arms and moved out into the centre of the dance floor, swaying to the throbbing beat of the music, inhaling the atmosphere of alcohol and smoke and dark and heat, living off it, closing her eyes to squeeze out the world.
How long she danced Jasmine didn't know, she pretended to herself she was in a realm of music and false glamour where time didn't exist. It wasn't so hard, if she tried. At last Jasmine moved away and collapsed down on an empty sofa, holding her head in her hands to still the spinning. She'd drunk way too much but at least it stopped her from thinking straight. Stopped her thinking about her mom. And Luke, damn Luke. Stopped her thinking about that bastard, yeah. As for the other- God. Never that.
She felt someone sit down beside her. Great. She looked up and saw it was Rick. Rick was maybe her last friend. Well, she'd been shutting out her old friends lately but she didn't care. She knew he only stuck with her because he had had a crush on her for years. He wasn't bad looking, with curly black hair, dark brown eyes, a slightly Greek looking face. He just wasn't Luke, though.
"Are you still cut up over Luke?" asked Rick gently, as though he'd read her mind.
Jasmine swallowed hard. Her goddamned ex. She had loved Luke, adored him from afar for years, loved him for a year... and hated him too for a month. The words he'd last said to her, the girl she'd seen him with.... She didn't think she would ever get over him. Just another problem in many in the exciting life of Jasmine Selapha. "Yeah," she whispered. Somehow he heard her over the searing trance music.
"It's not just that, right?" Rick asked.
"How perceptive," Jasmine replied with faint bitterness.
"Huh?"
"Rick, did it ever occur to you I might just be weirded out on account of...." She choked off the words, holding it back. God, she'd been over this so many times.
Then she closed her eyes and said the words anyway, "...on account of Kathryn." Kathryn. The memory she could never forget flared up into being on the back of her closed lids. Jasmine had always been something of an outsider, all her life. Her mom had split from her dad when she had been about seven and since then they had travelled about from place to place, town to town, passing in and out of the homes of her mom's distant relatives. It had been hard to make friends but Jasmine had never thought she minded being different, keeping to herself.
Then her mom had met and fallen in love with her step dad five years ago, when she was twelve. She had been happy for her mom, found herself even happier to stay in one place, and Drew, her new dad, had been nice, friendly, but he'd always treated her like a stranger. He was polite, he bought her gifts, but... she always felt like a stranger in her own home. Like she was the odd one out. But it had been okay, because Kathryn had been there. Kathryn had been her step sister, a year younger than herself, but the sweetest and most unassuming girl she'd ever met. Kathryn had been like her real sister, the one she'd always wanted. She and Jasmine had done everything together, told each other everything. Kathryn had been cheery, golden haired, carefree, and Jasmine had felt like she was finally in a real family, finally happy. Then her mom had died, of a illness three years ago. God, it had been hard, and they hadn't been close since she'd remarried. Kathryn had helped keep the family together, keep everyone going. She'd just been that sort of person. Then six months ago...
Kathryn was dead. Gone. It was all...her...fault. Luke had said so, before he'd left her because she was 'too weird, too depressive'. People at school called her a witch, kept away from her. She didn't care. All her care had gone when her mom and sister had gone. She'd loved being alive before. Now she felt like things were grinding to a slow halt. What good was she?
"It wasn't my fault!" she said abruptly, angrily, wanting to believe it. She turned and looked almost pleadingly at Rick. He was just looking straight at her and there was a hint of anger in his face. Accusing anger. He'd loved Kathryn too. He blamed her too. Jasmine couldn't take it. She leapt up as though she'd been stung and headed out of the club, shoving people out of her way, hating feeling like this, hating feeling so hopeless.
Rick watched her go, defeated. He wished irrationally she'd just get over it all. He just didn't know how to talk to her. She was so distant, so different to the laughing, free and easy girl she'd once been. Now it was like she just couldn't snap out of it.
Down the dark, small city street another girl walked hand in hand with a tall, dark stranger she'd just met in the club earlier. She couldn't believe her luck in finding such a babe, although he wasn't one for talking much. That was fine with her so far.
"So..." she purred sweetly. "You live round here?" She glanced up at his face but it was hard to see in the dark.
"Mmm...No."
"Oh. Well, where do you live?"
There as no reply for a while. Then: "Oh, around, here and there. I travel a lot. Just arrived."
"Oh," she repeated. "Well, you go to school here?"
She was so busy puzzling if she'd seen him before at school she didn't notice they were walking into a dark alley until he stopped and casually pulled her close against the wall. "Maybe I will," replied the guy silkily.
The girl felt vaguely uncomfortable. What kind of an answer was that? He was dressed completely in black, expensive clothes, muscular, totally hot, but he was starting to freak her out.
"What did you say your name was, again?" she asked and this time there was a quaver in her voice. In the faintly illuminating moonlight she could just make out his face now, angular and handsome, cold steel gray eyes lit up by the faint moonlight, piercing and hard and full of idle amusement.
"I have many, dear girl," he said softly, and then she saw the moonlight glint off long, sharpened teeth...
Jasmine ran up the steps and outside where the cold night air hit her like a shock of icy water. She sighed hard, pulling frosty air into her lungs till it hurt. "Someone take me away from this feeling," she whispered into the night, sick of feeling disconnected.
The stranger left the girl lying on the alley floor, probably still alive. His meal wouldn't remember him. They rarely did. Easily he climbed noiselessly up the fire escape stairs attached to the side of the cheap Chinese restaurant overlooking the street, then moved to the edge of the flat roof and stood silently on the roof edge, eyes idly surveying the front of the nightclub with his supernatural night vision. This certainly was a slow little vermin town, he wouldn't be surprised if he was the only Night Person here. He didn't know exactly why he'd come here, this was only one of several possible places where his target was and the least likely. He sneered contemptuously.
Then he saw the girl come out. Not that she was the first out, but for some reason he found his attention riveted on her. It was a human girl, probably about sixteen, slim, nothing special. Then she lifted her head and stared out into the might and for a moment her face was intensely tired and frustrated, slowly smoothing out as she stared at the stars. Daniel found himself studying her more appreciatively, taking in the longish wavy hair, the elegant features, the slanting eyes.
There was something in her face that was more subtle than that though, a kind of indistinct expression that he yearned to name. Longing? Calm? Resolution? He remained still as death, invisible in his black clothing, debating whether to go down and see if she tasted fascinating, too. He easily heard her whisper her wish out into the air, and in response a dark brow raised, a glacier cold smile twisted his lips. He found himself mesmerized, the enchanter enchanted.
The girl turned and walked swiftly away, heading down towards the coast, and silently he descended silently and followed her, stalking through the darkness.
The next day Jasmine woke to a throbbing headache and the shrill of her alarm. School. Shit. Groaning she pushed herself out of her bed and staggered to the bathroom. God, she looked wasted, dark shadows under her eyes, a pale tint to her normally tan skin. Great. Last night after the club she'd gone out to her secret place at Kestrel Beach and just sat there alone for ages in the dark. She liked being alone. It was calming. Then later she'd stumbled away up the cliff paths to the ramshackle house where she lived and fallen into bed. She was trying to work out just how many hours of sleep she'd had when her step dad moved into the bathroom too.
"Oh, sorry Jasmine," he mumbled, looking ill himself.
"That's okay." She studied him in the mirror.
Drew looked tired and pale, still with that barely concealed flicker of pain in his eyes. Suddenly she felt protective of him. He wasn't related but he was the closest thing she had for a dad. She gave him a quick hug. "Gotta go, dad. I'll be late for school."
The teacher was a plump middle aged woman, with frizzed hair and an emphatic expression on her face as she lectured on the 'passion' and 'horror' of the play Romeo and Juliet. "Can you imagine it? Feeling so lost without your love you would want to die if you could not have him! Imagine it, class!" Jasmine fought to keep awake. Oh, yeah. Whatever. Some jerk kills himself on account of his girl dropping dead. Like that happens. Why are we studying something that isn't real? Love's not like that. Was that teacher ever going to release her own unfufilled romantic desires? Jasmine turned her head, looking for something to keep her awake. Her caffeine and sugar hit had worn off ages ago.
Then she saw him.
He was standing stock still, so still that no one had noticed him arrived. He was casually leaning against the door frame and he looked like a slice of darkness.
The teacher saw him and her voice trailed off. Everyone in the class turned in surprise, the guys glaring instantly with mistrust, the girls with excitement. He had longish black hair that seemed to absorb the light without reflecting it, a tall, lean looking frame and finely carved features. Then he glanced slowly across the room and she nearly flinched when he looked right at her with eyes of hard stone-steel gray.
For a moment there was perfect silence.
Then the teacher rallied. "Who, sir, are you?" she inquired haughtily.
He just stared at her, smiling faintly as if at a private joke. "Call me Daniel. And I just transferred here." Jasmine, still reeling from the intensity of that stare, expected the teacher to immediately launch into a skeptical interrogation. To her surprise the woman just blinked hard, then took a few steps back, gesturing for the guy to find a seat. With lazy grace he took the desk next to Jasmine.
She shot him a quick sideways glance. He was pale skinned but it only made his black brows and hair stand out more. Jasmine swiftly looked away as he looked back at her. She was sure he was staring at her, but why would anyone that gorgeous be remotely interested in her? Shifting uncomfortably against a feeling like pins of ice pressing against her neck she focused furiously on the blackboard, ignoring him, ignoring her racing heart.
For the rest of the week she seemed to see him everywhere she went, like she could feel him staring at her. He was always followed by a group of people. The popular, pretty girls flocked around the guy despite the fact he didn't seem to pay them much attention. Like moths around a flame. There was something scary but exciting about him, something that made him stand out from everyone but kept drawing them in. Jasmine herself didn't approach him. For one thing, her broken heart warned of the problems boys brought.
For another... maybe she was paranoid but often Jasmine would get these feelings, or images of people, about the kind of person they were. And the image that stayed with her was the hard, storm cloud colour of his eyes, the hard, cold intensity of them. Something powerful. Something frightening.
She pushed the thoughts of the new stranger out her head as she walked across the cafeteria, searching for a place to sit. She saw a table full of laughing, chatting girls and felt a pang. They were her old group, her old friends she'd had first when she'd moved here, but when Kathryn had died she'd left them, too grief stricken to want to talk to anyone. Maybe it was time to try and join them again.
A cold, prickling sensation like an icy fist gripping her insides struck her and she went rigid. Slowly Jasmine turned around. Daniel was standing on the other side of the cafeteria, leaning against a wall and looking straight at her, a vision in black, and abruptly Jasmine felt a surge of annoyance. He was unusual, but he was just another loser guy, and the way he was staring at her pissed her off. Jasmine boldly strode across the cafeteria until she was straight in front of the him. Far away, he was tall, dark and gorgeous. Up close....well. She suddenly felt somewhat boneless and very aware of herself. Her heart was pounding and her mouth dry.
"Why are you staring at me?" she asked bluntly, not quite meeting those eyes, focusing on his mouth instead, which turned up in a slow, one sided smile. Like a snake. A black cobra.
"I'm not staring. I'm noticing," he murmured in his low, sure voice. Jasmine fought against the impulse to fidget and swallow. Great. He says something and you turn into an airheaded bashful girl. No, screw that.
"What's your name?" Daniel asked softly.
"Jasmine."
"Just Jasmine?"
"No," she said uncomfortably, "But that's enough."
"Good name."
It was such a weird thing to say Jasmine looked up and met his eyes. They glittered with something strange, something dark, and she couldn't look away. It was frightening, but fascinating too. Eyes of hard steel, a face like a devilish angel. He was so strange.
"Who are you?" She said the words without thinking.
Daniel smiled wider.
"Would you like me to show you?"
Please do R&R but remember its my first attempt and might be kinda silly.
Chapter 1
"Stop now Jasmine. You've had enough."
A large hand reached out and swiftly jerked the bottle from her grasp and, eyes briefly flashing angrily the slender girl whirled to face him. Rick gave an involuntary wince at the look that registered on his friends face- for an instant her face contorted with fury and her eyes were full of frustrated emotion- and then it was gone, a fake cheery mask slipped back in place.
"I don't think so Rick." Jasmine make a grab for her bottle of beer but Rick effortlessly held it out of her reach. What a jerk. He was easily a head taller than her, with a muscular, bulky frame and Jasmine gave up and turned away, heading back to the bar. Rick struggled through the throng of seething, rocking people inside the claustrophobic interior of the club.
"Jasmine!" He pushed forward and caught her arm and jerked her back. She turned again to face him and in the flashing strobe lights he could clearly see that flash of anger again on her face. She'd been like that all evening, switching between angry restlessness and fake, empty cheer. But its not as though Jasmine's been particularly easy to read lately. Not for a while.
"Jas..."
"Look, Rick, I just want a drink. Okay? I can handle it!"
Sporadic bursts of neon light lit up her features, her slim, heart shaped face, her wavy auburn hair framing it, and giving her usually grey- green eyes a brighter greenish tint.
"Let me go dammit!" She snapped and jerked out of his grip.
"Look I'm fine," she said quickly, giving him a carefree smile, an awkward twist of her lips,
Rick shook his head, suddenly and abruptly angry at her, at himself for not knowing why she was acting so weird lately. "Jasmine, what's wrong?" he asked flatly. "Are you okay?"
Am I okay? At that question Jasmine almost laughed bitterly. Was she okay. Yeah, Rick, I'm fine. In case you haven't noticed I've been having a wild time lately. I just love when my boyfriend screws me over. I just love not having a mom. I just love to have my family die away because of me. Me.
The guilt, the anger, the despair swelled up like a burst of bitter liquor, a tide to drown in, but she forced it back and let the coldness swirl over her features. God, it was so easy to pretend. It was so easy to fool them all. Jasmine pasted a smile on her face but unexpectedly began to wonder to herself, maybe it was time to tell him, to tell someone, anyone-
A heavy weight slammed into her back and she was thrown forward. Rick caught her.
"Hey, sorry babe," leered the guy who'd bumped into her drunkenly. "Real sorry..." The guy disappeared back into the anonymous throng of dancing people and Jasmine's longing to tell Rick vanished. She wanted to be like them. She wanted to dance in a crowd of strangers until she dissolved in the music, she wanted to not think. Wordlessly she pushed herself out of Rick's arms and moved out into the centre of the dance floor, swaying to the throbbing beat of the music, inhaling the atmosphere of alcohol and smoke and dark and heat, living off it, closing her eyes to squeeze out the world.
How long she danced Jasmine didn't know, she pretended to herself she was in a realm of music and false glamour where time didn't exist. It wasn't so hard, if she tried. At last Jasmine moved away and collapsed down on an empty sofa, holding her head in her hands to still the spinning. She'd drunk way too much but at least it stopped her from thinking straight. Stopped her thinking about her mom. And Luke, damn Luke. Stopped her thinking about that bastard, yeah. As for the other- God. Never that.
She felt someone sit down beside her. Great. She looked up and saw it was Rick. Rick was maybe her last friend. Well, she'd been shutting out her old friends lately but she didn't care. She knew he only stuck with her because he had had a crush on her for years. He wasn't bad looking, with curly black hair, dark brown eyes, a slightly Greek looking face. He just wasn't Luke, though.
"Are you still cut up over Luke?" asked Rick gently, as though he'd read her mind.
Jasmine swallowed hard. Her goddamned ex. She had loved Luke, adored him from afar for years, loved him for a year... and hated him too for a month. The words he'd last said to her, the girl she'd seen him with.... She didn't think she would ever get over him. Just another problem in many in the exciting life of Jasmine Selapha. "Yeah," she whispered. Somehow he heard her over the searing trance music.
"It's not just that, right?" Rick asked.
"How perceptive," Jasmine replied with faint bitterness.
"Huh?"
"Rick, did it ever occur to you I might just be weirded out on account of...." She choked off the words, holding it back. God, she'd been over this so many times.
Then she closed her eyes and said the words anyway, "...on account of Kathryn." Kathryn. The memory she could never forget flared up into being on the back of her closed lids. Jasmine had always been something of an outsider, all her life. Her mom had split from her dad when she had been about seven and since then they had travelled about from place to place, town to town, passing in and out of the homes of her mom's distant relatives. It had been hard to make friends but Jasmine had never thought she minded being different, keeping to herself.
Then her mom had met and fallen in love with her step dad five years ago, when she was twelve. She had been happy for her mom, found herself even happier to stay in one place, and Drew, her new dad, had been nice, friendly, but he'd always treated her like a stranger. He was polite, he bought her gifts, but... she always felt like a stranger in her own home. Like she was the odd one out. But it had been okay, because Kathryn had been there. Kathryn had been her step sister, a year younger than herself, but the sweetest and most unassuming girl she'd ever met. Kathryn had been like her real sister, the one she'd always wanted. She and Jasmine had done everything together, told each other everything. Kathryn had been cheery, golden haired, carefree, and Jasmine had felt like she was finally in a real family, finally happy. Then her mom had died, of a illness three years ago. God, it had been hard, and they hadn't been close since she'd remarried. Kathryn had helped keep the family together, keep everyone going. She'd just been that sort of person. Then six months ago...
Kathryn was dead. Gone. It was all...her...fault. Luke had said so, before he'd left her because she was 'too weird, too depressive'. People at school called her a witch, kept away from her. She didn't care. All her care had gone when her mom and sister had gone. She'd loved being alive before. Now she felt like things were grinding to a slow halt. What good was she?
"It wasn't my fault!" she said abruptly, angrily, wanting to believe it. She turned and looked almost pleadingly at Rick. He was just looking straight at her and there was a hint of anger in his face. Accusing anger. He'd loved Kathryn too. He blamed her too. Jasmine couldn't take it. She leapt up as though she'd been stung and headed out of the club, shoving people out of her way, hating feeling like this, hating feeling so hopeless.
Rick watched her go, defeated. He wished irrationally she'd just get over it all. He just didn't know how to talk to her. She was so distant, so different to the laughing, free and easy girl she'd once been. Now it was like she just couldn't snap out of it.
Down the dark, small city street another girl walked hand in hand with a tall, dark stranger she'd just met in the club earlier. She couldn't believe her luck in finding such a babe, although he wasn't one for talking much. That was fine with her so far.
"So..." she purred sweetly. "You live round here?" She glanced up at his face but it was hard to see in the dark.
"Mmm...No."
"Oh. Well, where do you live?"
There as no reply for a while. Then: "Oh, around, here and there. I travel a lot. Just arrived."
"Oh," she repeated. "Well, you go to school here?"
She was so busy puzzling if she'd seen him before at school she didn't notice they were walking into a dark alley until he stopped and casually pulled her close against the wall. "Maybe I will," replied the guy silkily.
The girl felt vaguely uncomfortable. What kind of an answer was that? He was dressed completely in black, expensive clothes, muscular, totally hot, but he was starting to freak her out.
"What did you say your name was, again?" she asked and this time there was a quaver in her voice. In the faintly illuminating moonlight she could just make out his face now, angular and handsome, cold steel gray eyes lit up by the faint moonlight, piercing and hard and full of idle amusement.
"I have many, dear girl," he said softly, and then she saw the moonlight glint off long, sharpened teeth...
Jasmine ran up the steps and outside where the cold night air hit her like a shock of icy water. She sighed hard, pulling frosty air into her lungs till it hurt. "Someone take me away from this feeling," she whispered into the night, sick of feeling disconnected.
The stranger left the girl lying on the alley floor, probably still alive. His meal wouldn't remember him. They rarely did. Easily he climbed noiselessly up the fire escape stairs attached to the side of the cheap Chinese restaurant overlooking the street, then moved to the edge of the flat roof and stood silently on the roof edge, eyes idly surveying the front of the nightclub with his supernatural night vision. This certainly was a slow little vermin town, he wouldn't be surprised if he was the only Night Person here. He didn't know exactly why he'd come here, this was only one of several possible places where his target was and the least likely. He sneered contemptuously.
Then he saw the girl come out. Not that she was the first out, but for some reason he found his attention riveted on her. It was a human girl, probably about sixteen, slim, nothing special. Then she lifted her head and stared out into the might and for a moment her face was intensely tired and frustrated, slowly smoothing out as she stared at the stars. Daniel found himself studying her more appreciatively, taking in the longish wavy hair, the elegant features, the slanting eyes.
There was something in her face that was more subtle than that though, a kind of indistinct expression that he yearned to name. Longing? Calm? Resolution? He remained still as death, invisible in his black clothing, debating whether to go down and see if she tasted fascinating, too. He easily heard her whisper her wish out into the air, and in response a dark brow raised, a glacier cold smile twisted his lips. He found himself mesmerized, the enchanter enchanted.
The girl turned and walked swiftly away, heading down towards the coast, and silently he descended silently and followed her, stalking through the darkness.
The next day Jasmine woke to a throbbing headache and the shrill of her alarm. School. Shit. Groaning she pushed herself out of her bed and staggered to the bathroom. God, she looked wasted, dark shadows under her eyes, a pale tint to her normally tan skin. Great. Last night after the club she'd gone out to her secret place at Kestrel Beach and just sat there alone for ages in the dark. She liked being alone. It was calming. Then later she'd stumbled away up the cliff paths to the ramshackle house where she lived and fallen into bed. She was trying to work out just how many hours of sleep she'd had when her step dad moved into the bathroom too.
"Oh, sorry Jasmine," he mumbled, looking ill himself.
"That's okay." She studied him in the mirror.
Drew looked tired and pale, still with that barely concealed flicker of pain in his eyes. Suddenly she felt protective of him. He wasn't related but he was the closest thing she had for a dad. She gave him a quick hug. "Gotta go, dad. I'll be late for school."
The teacher was a plump middle aged woman, with frizzed hair and an emphatic expression on her face as she lectured on the 'passion' and 'horror' of the play Romeo and Juliet. "Can you imagine it? Feeling so lost without your love you would want to die if you could not have him! Imagine it, class!" Jasmine fought to keep awake. Oh, yeah. Whatever. Some jerk kills himself on account of his girl dropping dead. Like that happens. Why are we studying something that isn't real? Love's not like that. Was that teacher ever going to release her own unfufilled romantic desires? Jasmine turned her head, looking for something to keep her awake. Her caffeine and sugar hit had worn off ages ago.
Then she saw him.
He was standing stock still, so still that no one had noticed him arrived. He was casually leaning against the door frame and he looked like a slice of darkness.
The teacher saw him and her voice trailed off. Everyone in the class turned in surprise, the guys glaring instantly with mistrust, the girls with excitement. He had longish black hair that seemed to absorb the light without reflecting it, a tall, lean looking frame and finely carved features. Then he glanced slowly across the room and she nearly flinched when he looked right at her with eyes of hard stone-steel gray.
For a moment there was perfect silence.
Then the teacher rallied. "Who, sir, are you?" she inquired haughtily.
He just stared at her, smiling faintly as if at a private joke. "Call me Daniel. And I just transferred here." Jasmine, still reeling from the intensity of that stare, expected the teacher to immediately launch into a skeptical interrogation. To her surprise the woman just blinked hard, then took a few steps back, gesturing for the guy to find a seat. With lazy grace he took the desk next to Jasmine.
She shot him a quick sideways glance. He was pale skinned but it only made his black brows and hair stand out more. Jasmine swiftly looked away as he looked back at her. She was sure he was staring at her, but why would anyone that gorgeous be remotely interested in her? Shifting uncomfortably against a feeling like pins of ice pressing against her neck she focused furiously on the blackboard, ignoring him, ignoring her racing heart.
For the rest of the week she seemed to see him everywhere she went, like she could feel him staring at her. He was always followed by a group of people. The popular, pretty girls flocked around the guy despite the fact he didn't seem to pay them much attention. Like moths around a flame. There was something scary but exciting about him, something that made him stand out from everyone but kept drawing them in. Jasmine herself didn't approach him. For one thing, her broken heart warned of the problems boys brought.
For another... maybe she was paranoid but often Jasmine would get these feelings, or images of people, about the kind of person they were. And the image that stayed with her was the hard, storm cloud colour of his eyes, the hard, cold intensity of them. Something powerful. Something frightening.
She pushed the thoughts of the new stranger out her head as she walked across the cafeteria, searching for a place to sit. She saw a table full of laughing, chatting girls and felt a pang. They were her old group, her old friends she'd had first when she'd moved here, but when Kathryn had died she'd left them, too grief stricken to want to talk to anyone. Maybe it was time to try and join them again.
A cold, prickling sensation like an icy fist gripping her insides struck her and she went rigid. Slowly Jasmine turned around. Daniel was standing on the other side of the cafeteria, leaning against a wall and looking straight at her, a vision in black, and abruptly Jasmine felt a surge of annoyance. He was unusual, but he was just another loser guy, and the way he was staring at her pissed her off. Jasmine boldly strode across the cafeteria until she was straight in front of the him. Far away, he was tall, dark and gorgeous. Up close....well. She suddenly felt somewhat boneless and very aware of herself. Her heart was pounding and her mouth dry.
"Why are you staring at me?" she asked bluntly, not quite meeting those eyes, focusing on his mouth instead, which turned up in a slow, one sided smile. Like a snake. A black cobra.
"I'm not staring. I'm noticing," he murmured in his low, sure voice. Jasmine fought against the impulse to fidget and swallow. Great. He says something and you turn into an airheaded bashful girl. No, screw that.
"What's your name?" Daniel asked softly.
"Jasmine."
"Just Jasmine?"
"No," she said uncomfortably, "But that's enough."
"Good name."
It was such a weird thing to say Jasmine looked up and met his eyes. They glittered with something strange, something dark, and she couldn't look away. It was frightening, but fascinating too. Eyes of hard steel, a face like a devilish angel. He was so strange.
"Who are you?" She said the words without thinking.
Daniel smiled wider.
"Would you like me to show you?"