Chapter 1
Jasmine observed the wooden box she had placed on the table in the back garden of her house. Observing was an understatement for what she was doing, because the way she had been staring at the box for the past ten minutes, she was surprised she didn’t burn a hole right through it. It was a simple, unpolished wooden box, ten inches on each side. A single piece of wood placed on top served as the lid.
Vines & Soul, the restaurant attached to the vineyard and resort she managed, was at its busiest time of the day, late morning into lunchtime. But she could afford another half hour or so here, with this box.
She couldn’t be careful enough after what had happened at her house. She had accidentally invited a hybrid vampire inside, and that mistake had almost cost not only her life but the lives of her dear friends. Beatrice and Mia were more than her friends. They had been her family for as long as she could remember.
Lisa, the site manager of the restaurant, had given her this box when she arrived earlier in the morning. A mundane human would see it as a harmless box, inside of which was a black piece of rock atop of a bunch of tangled grapevines. As a witch, however, she saw a difference. The vines were the same, but the rock was the beating heart of a supernatural.
“Someone left this at the front door with a note addressed to you,” Lisa said when she handed Jasmine the box and then got on with her morning business.
Saying nothing to Lisa, she grabbed the box and made a beeline back home.
And there she still was, staring at it.
Maybe the box and its contents were harmless after all, because if there had been a single movement, or if magic had come out of it, she would have seen something. But the note said, “To Jasmine.”
“I’m in the back,” Jasmine called out when she heard a sound at the front gate and sensed Beatrice’s and Mia’s anxiety looming in the air.
Jasmine could read people’s emotions, whether she wanted to or not. It was a perk—but also a curse—of her unstable psychic ability. Right now, she wanted to focus on her own emotions to get the most accurate feeling she could about this mysterious box. It seemed as if the quiet moments she needed to do so had gone with her friends’ arrival. Beatrice and Mia offered support, friendship, and a lot of expertise, but Jasmine’s peaceful time would be compromised with her dear friends there.
“A beating heart in a box?” Beatrice exclaimed with a wince. “Is this some kind of Pirates of the Caribbean reenactment?”
“Save the movie quotes, Beatrice,” Mia said with a quirk at the corner her lips. “This isn't funny.”
Beatrice wagged her finger. “See, you think it's funny yourself. There’s no harm in a little laughter. The heart is beating, so no one died. Plus, I think it’s romantic. It’s a declaration of love for Jasmine, food, and wine. A perfect combination!” she said with a grin.
“Not if you combine what you can see with what the humans see.”
The smiles vanished from Beatrice and Mia’s faces.
Jasmine walked around the table, keeping her eyes locked on the beating supernatural heart. She hoped none of what she said would come true. While Beatrice wasn’t born a witch, but with practice and her innate ability, she had gained supernatural vision. Mia was born a werewolf, but the trait never surfaced in her, so the tribe referred to her as a deadliner. But apart from not being able to shift, Mia had perfect supernatural eyes. The downside of possessing their supernatural abilities was that neither Beatrice nor Mia could see what a human could see.
That ability was unique to Jasmine, and she had no idea why she could do it. She could see what both supernaturals and humans could see, and she could switch to whichever perspective she wanted. Jasmine smiled and spoke calmly. The last thing she wanted to do was freak out her friends.
“The humans see a black stone on top of tangled vines, and the supernaturals see a beating heart on top of the same vines. But those are not just ordinary vines. They’re ancient. One of the oldest kinds in the world.”
Mia’s eyes darkened, and her analytical mind kicked in. “A heart of stone … someone was hurt because of something brutal that happened in the ancient past.”
Beatrice's eyes widened. “It’s directed at you because you are the only one who can see both the stone and the heart. Someone is blaming you for—”
“Being a coldhearted B about something that happened in the past,” Jasmine cut in. “The ancient vines might mean this happened in the past, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be in ancient times because I wasn’t born then, and I don’t believe in reincarnation.”
“This is a threat!” Beatrice said.
Mia shook her head. “The only thing you’re capable of killing is the bugs that harm your vines, Jasmine. Maybe the symbolic gift means something else, not the heart and stone matter.”
“No, this is what it means. I’m sure of it.” Nobody knew what she’d done in the past. She did it for the greater good, and she didn’t regret it. But in reality, you won some, and you lost some. She couldn’t be friends with both good and evil. “I killed a vampire in London before it fed on a homeless human.”
“You were with supernatural enforcement in London. That’s like the police, and you were doing what you were supposed to do. If everyone working with paranormal law enforcement received a threat, not only would we be at war with the criminal supernatural, we’d be at the sharp, losing end of the sword,” Beatrice said as she paced, hands waving in the air. She lost patience easily, especially when it came to the people she cared about.
Mia’s voice lowered. “That vamp wasn’t an ordinary vamp, was it?”
Jasmine shook her head. “It sedated the homeless person. Not only did it plan to feed, but it wanted to capture the person and keep him for long-term needs.”
“What do you mean?” Beatrice asked, her eyes filled with fear even before Jasmine could give her an answer.
Jasmine sighed. “It was a young vampire, the son of one of the leaders in a powerful club. It was young and inexperienced. It needed to feed slowly so it wouldn’t kill the human, and it wanted to use the human to learn and grow its killing skills. I had followed that club for a long time. I knew what they did. The young vampire begged me not to terminate him. But I was young, too, and idealistic—and I was furious. You can guess the rest of the story.”
Mia frowned. “Sure, but still, I think—”
“It’s them, Mia. The tangled vines aren’t a random choice. They’re shaped into the club’s logo. When I first looked into the box, I saw bits and pieces of things. But I didn’t put it all together until Beatrice mentioned the movie.”
“Pirates of the Caribbean?”
Jasmine nodded. “It’s not exactly like that, but one of the reasons the young vampire gave me to not terminate him was that he was in love with someone, and because of that, he needed to be stronger. He went on about being a lonely heart in the paranormal world. But none of what he said gave him the right to put another being through a slow death just so he could use him as an educational tool . So, yes, I terminated him. And yes, I admit I’m coldhearted when it comes to these criminals. But the club he belonged to probably didn’t see things my way.”
“So what now?” Mia asked.
“If they’re seeking revenge on me, the best they can get from me is my life. But I won’t go down without a fight.”
Chapter 2
Bertram walked out of the common area of the police station in Melbourne city. More accurately, he was walking out on Grace. He didn’t normally find himself in this location, but he had to come here to file some evidence for a case in Gisborne, one he had just partially solved. His chief had given him the week off, as the doctor still hadn’t cleared him of the long-term effects of the concussion he suffered on the case, but he wanted the case closed. Over. Finished.
Grace trailed right behind him. “You know I don’t handle silence well, Bertram. If you have something to say, just say it to my face.”
He ignored the buzzing activity of the police station’s front office, the complete opposite of the equivalent office in Gisborne, and turned toward Grace. She wanted to talk, so he would just have to hash this out with her.
“I don’t do silence, Grace. But it’s a lot nicer than what I have to say.”
“You’re angry with me because I ruined your chances with Jasmine.”
“This has nothing to do with Jasmine. It was an awkward situation in Gisborne. Nothing more to it.”
“You should hear your voice when you say her name. You should see your face. You should see the spark in your eyes when you look at her.”
“What happened between Jasmine and me is irrelevant. You and I, we have a situation, and that is what matters here.”
“You didn’t say you weren’t angry at me. If there’s one thing I know well about you that I can be certain will never change is that you’re not capable of lying, Bertram.”
“I … wasn’t angry. I was disappointed.”
“I left you for two seconds, and you fell for another woman …”
“It wasn’t two seconds. It was three months and six days, Grace.”
She paced back and forth in the narrow corridor. “I told you I needed time to think.”
“I understand. I needed time, too. And it has worked out for the best.”
“Yes, see, time heals all wounds. I thought about it very carefully. I came back to accept your proposal.”
He held her shoulders so that she would stand still. He looked into her beautiful eyes, which had begun to tear up. She was smart, and she knew what was coming. She just wanted him to say it.
“Grace, the proposal is no longer there. You know that.”
“I never said no.” A tear rolled down her face.
“But you didn’t say yes, and you walked away from me for more than three months.”
“No one likes rejection, and I understand that …”
“So you’re saying the fact that you walked away from a marriage proposal after a three-year relationship was indeed a rejection!”
“Don’t play with my words, Bertram.”
“I’m not. It is what it is. I proposed, you said no, and that’s it. If we handle this well, we can still work well together as colleagues. You’re one of the most competent detectives I have ever worked with.”
“So are you saying there was never any love between us?”
“I proposed. If there was love, it came from me. But I don’t blame you for being hesitant. It was a big decision and a big commitment for you. And if marriage didn’t fit into your five-year career plan, that would be a problem. You’re ambitious, and I don’t want to stand in your way, Grace.”
“And you’re not ambitious? So what’s with the impeccable case-solving record you have? What’s with the fact that you accept nothing substandard? If all that isn’t for career ambition, then what drives you?”
Bertram shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand, and that’s why we’re just too different to make this work. In a way, I’m glad you took the time away. We can work together. If you want …”
“No.” She wiped the tears off her face. “You don’t understand, Bertram. If we break up, I can’t work with you. I’ll ask for a transfer, effective immediately,” she said then walked away. That was the Grace he knew. She had to be the one who left. She never held the sharp end of the knife.
His phone buzzed.
“Yes, Glen, and before you ask, no, I’m not taking the week off.”
“Then do you want another case in Gisborne?”
His stomach did a somersault, and he didn’t like the feeling he had. He brushed it off, but it bothered him. In a small town, when something happened on a scale that prompted them to call central police, it usually involved everyone he knew. That was why he preferred big city cases. They were less personal. But he had taken the last case in Gisborne, and there was no changing that. Everything to do with that town now involved him at a personal level.
But Glen didn’t know that, so he played it cool. “What’s the case about?”
“I just got a call. Body found at a vineyard. The message I got was pretty rough, like their connection wasn’t stable when they left it.”
“Was it the same vineyard where I stayed?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t say. The message just said a body was found at a vineyard about ten minutes outside Gisborne. The vineyard has some kind of accommodation attached to it.”
“A resort?”
“Yeah, like a sanctuary of some sort.”
Bertram felt his knees weaken. Most of his cases involved homicide. He’d never had a problem with death and murder. He could always remain levelheaded. That was why he was so good at what he did. But right now, the word ringing like an alarm bell in his mind was Jasmine.
“Was the victim male or female?”
“They didn’t say. They just said something about the manager or something like that.”
“Do you have an address?”
“Yes, they left an address, but it’s untraceable. Might be a typo. I’ll have to check again.”
“So what do you know for sure?” he said, his voice louder. “I’m sorry. I meant, is there any info I can work with now?”
“Now?”
“Yes, I’m heading there now. Can you text me the address when you have it?”
“Sure. So you’ll take the case then. Should I send Grace with you for backup?”
“No. Just text me the address.”
“All right.”
As soon as he got off the phone, he dialed Jasmine. All he got was static. It wasn’t that she didn’t pick up or her phone was disconnected. It was as if the phone was picked up but all that came out of the earpiece were echoes and strange sounds. He called Beatrice and Mia. The same thing happened.
Bertram rushed to his car and drove as fast as he could to Gisborne.
Chapter 3
Vines & Soul was packed during lunch hours. Bertram saw that Lisa was busy orchestrating everything, but he didn’t see Jasmine anywhere. His adrenaline level had skyrocketed, making him dizzy. His head felt as if it was going to explode.
“Bertram!”
Lisa spotted him.
“Yes, Lisa, is Jasmine around?”
“Yes, this morning. But she went home.”
“Why?”
“There was a package, a box, addressed to her. I gave it to her, and she went home right after that. I tried to call her earlier, but she didn’t answer. Why are you here?”
“Just wanted to take her out for a drink … a coffee. I’ll head to her place now. Will tell her you tried to call.”
“Please do.”
Saying nothing more, Bertram charged out of the restaurant and ran straight to Jasmine’s place. It was only fifteen minutes using the internal vine roads of the vineyard, but it felt like the longest fifteen minutes of his life.
The vineyard was laid out in blocks that were labeled by grape variety. He ran past several blocks toward the farthest corner of the vineyard where Jasmine’s house was nestled among the natural native bushland overlooking the hillside. She called it a cabin, but it was more like a villa, and from Bertram’s perspective, it was so remote it made perfect sense for an assailant to attack her here rather than at the restaurant or at the resort.
Cabernet Block.
Pinot Noir Block.
Sauvignon Block.
Riesling Block …
He lost track.
About fifty feet from the front gate of Jasmine’s place, he saw something that looked like smoke coming from the back garden. He wasn’t sure if he was seeing what he was supposed to see as a human or, based on what Jasmine had told him, that he was more sensitive and susceptible to the supernatural world, he was seeing what the supernaturals could see.
The main problem he had was, he didn’t know which was which.
He stormed straight through the front gate to the back garden. Jasmine, Beatrice, and Mia stood around a table there. Jasmine had already turned toward him. Bertram knew she had sensed his emotions—or his overwhelming fear—before she saw him.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
Jasmine approached him. “You don’t feel right, Bertram,” she said. “Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m all right. I thought something happened to you …”
“Something did happen,” Beatrice said.
“You mean the box?” Bertram asked and approached the garden table with the wooden box sitting on it.
“Be careful,” Jasmine said.
“It exploded,” Mia said. “We’re all right, but our phones aren’t.”
Bertram saw three cell phones lying on the ground, smoke still coming out of the circuits. He peeked into the box. It was empty.
“How did the box do that to your phones?”
“The box was sent to me,” said Jasmine. “Humans would see only vines and a stone inside the box, but we saw a beating supernatural heart surrounded by ancient vines. We tried to measure the supernatural energy of the object to find out where it comes from. But it blew up, and then our phones were on fire.”
“How is it possible to measure supernatural energy with your phone?” asked Bertram.
Beatrice smiled. “We use an app call Witchy.”
Bertram pulled out his phone.
“Don’t download it,” Jasmine warned. “That app just toasted our phones. Your phone is the only communication tool we have now.”
His phone buzzed, which surprised him. The phone had apparently remembered the vineyard’s private network and automatically switched it on. Otherwise, no one at work could reach him. It was a text from Glen with the address. He looked at it and rolled his eyes. Had the message come earlier, it would have saved him the adrenaline marathon by car and foot from the city to Gisborne.
The address of the incident was on the west side of town. Jasmine’s vineyard was on the east side.
“Are you all right, Bertram?” Jasmine asked again, and this time her voice was filled with concern.
He wasn’t sure which of his emotions she was reading at the moment. He was relieved she wasn’t the victim of his current case. In fact, he was so happy that he felt almost delirious. In his line of work, controlling internal emotions and the external expression of them was a critical skill. He was good at it. But knowing Jasmine could see through all that, he didn’t feel the need to mask anything in front of her.
“I received a call for a case, and the description made me think it happened here. So I was worried for a bit.” He sat down on the garden bench.
“You don’t fit the just-a-bit category,” Mia said, and, without asking for his permission, she checked his pulse.
He didn’t care for that. Jasmine had peeled off his emotional mask, and that had been a lot for him to handle. He didn’t need a cognitive psychologist poking into his emotional status as well.
“You almost had a panic attack,” Mia said nonchalantly. “I’ve got work to do and a couple of appointments at the clinic. I’m happy to see you, free of charge.” She smiled.
“No, thank you.”
“Not only am I professionally qualified to check your mental fitness, I can tell how you are just by checking your pulse and give you a diagnosis you can’t deny. So I’m not just a doctor working for her paycheck, Bertram. In your line of work, mental fitness is critical. If you’re not fit in that area, you’re in no shape to be around the supernatural world.”
Bertram stood up, towering over Mia. “I am perfectly fit to work wherever I want, and I don’t care for your professional threats. Feel free to call the health department at central. Tell them whatever you like. But I always pass every test, especially the psych ones.”
A grin spread across Mia’s face. Bertram turned around and saw Jasmine and Beatrice smiling at him.
He stepped aside. “Ladies, I don’t care for the game you’re playing with me.”
Jasmine approached him. “We weren’t playing games, Bertram. Before you got here, we were debating whether we should call you for assistance regarding the box I received this morning. My opinion was to leave you out of this because I don’t think you’re equipped to handle the supernatural world. I mean, not yet. I believe this box is more complicated than we think. Mia believes otherwise. She thinks you can handle it.”
“I’m on the fence,” Beatrice said with a smile.
“So, after the little test you just conducted on me, between you two, who wins?”
“I do.” Jasmine smiled. “Mia pressed your button, and you reacted to it. The creatures we deal with are deceitful. Mental tricks are their things, and they’re not as simple as what Mia just did.”
“I killed the hybrid vampire for you and managed to keep the matter from being reported to central police, Jasmine!”
“And I owe you for that. I’m grateful. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Okay, right, that’s fine. I’m not here because of your box, obviously. I was called in for a case. So I’ll just go about my business. We’ll talk tonight. How does that sound?”
“It isn’t another murder case, is it?” Beatrice asked.
Bertram looked at her. “Unfortunately, yes, there’s been a death. When a body is found in a place other than a cemetery, the police have work to do.”
“Where?” Jasmine asked.
Bertram looked at the text on his phone. “Ten High Street, Gisborne West.”
“That’s an empty lot,” Mia said.
“The case brief said the place has a vineyard with a sanctuary.”
Jasmine shook her head. “That’s the landowner’s business. They subdivided that block of land.”
Bertram shrugged. “Number seventeen is where I’m heading.” He strode toward the garden gate.
“Wait,” Jasmine said.
Bertram turned around. “Yes, Jasmine?”
“I know those people.”
“Yes, we’re good friends,” Beatrice added. “Can you tell us who died?”
“No, and I can’t get civilians involved in my case.”
“Mr. William Marsh owns that land, and he’s my client. I’ll visit him in a professional capacity,” Mia said.
“His dog attends my pet school, so he’s my client, too. I’ll visit him as the trainer of his dog. Is that professional enough?” Beatrice said.
“You can visit your friend in any capacity you like, as long as you don’t disturb the crime scene,” Bertram said and turned to walk away.
“He’s Lisa’s uncle,” Jasmine called out.
Bertram turned around. “I spoke to her before coming here. She didn’t seem to know anything about what happened. Are they close?”
“Very.”
He contemplated. “All right, I think I might need an expert consultant on this case for local information and winery-related information.” He pointed to the box. “And there may be some connection to a phenomenon we can’t explain. So, if you let me in to see if there’s a connection to the message you received this morning, I’ll invite you in as an expert consultant for the case in the other vineyard.”
Jasmine nodded.
Bertram smiled. “It seems as though we have an agreement. Let’s go.”