Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (26 page)

He didn’t have time to dissuade
her, he sighed in exasperation. “Okay, but stay close and do as you’re told.”
He shrugged on his coat.

Rose hid her mutinous expression. 
She was no one’s lackey.

Back downstairs, Rose repeated her
speech to Raven, who simply held up his hands.  “There should be little danger
in asking questions. I see no reason to object.”

Once in Soho Anthony and Jared went
off to check out a book shop Thistle loved. Raven assigned himself Thistle’s
favourite late night café. Rose and Roman were given her favourite club.

Mystique was a vampire club.
Strictly no humans allowed. Wards were in place to deter human guests. Drinking
human blood direct from a human was illegal and in a steamy atmosphere things
could get carried away. So temptation was removed.

The music throbbed and people
danced as if they were fucking each other. Mystique would often turn into an
orgy. Sex was well and truly in the air all the time. Stepping over naked
lovers on the dance floor was a common occurrence in the club. Tonight it was
pretty empty in comparison to usual standards. Some of the London colony was
out looking for Thistle, and those who weren’t wouldn’t have been in the mood
for partying. The vampires in attendance were non-colony vampires, still bound
by vampire law but not part of a community, and foreign vampires.

“I can smell her on you,” a male
voice said from behind Roman. The accent was French.

Roman turned sharply. The male
vampire radiated sexual heat. He was stunning– silky chestnut hair, pretty face
and a perfectly toned body. It irritated Roman.

“Can you smell her on me?” the
vampire asked.

“What the fuck are you talking
about?”

A female vampire approached the
French vampire and kissed him hard on the mouth, tongues going wild. She stuck
her hand down the front of his trousers and caressed him. She whispered into
his ear – which Roman’s hearing picked up as, “I want you to put it in every
hole later,” – and she left.

“Sounds fun,” Roman said icily.

“Werewolf hearing.” The French
vampire regarded him with interest. “You must be her wolf lover. I am Pierre.”

“Whatever.” Roman was perfectly
aware that Thistle had other lovers but that didn’t mean he’d want to play meet
and greet.  He made to turn away but was halted by that annoying velvet voice.

“And who is this?” Pierre gaze swept up and down Rose, his eyes undressing her.

“Not interested,” Rose replied.

Roman felt his hackle rise.

“Oh, a clairvoyant,”
Pierre said. 

Rose shrugged. “No, I can just
anticipate the thoughts of an oversexed vampire.” She could feel Roman’s body
practically vibrating with tension beside her.

Pierre laughed. “What a wonderful
gift.”

“I take it you know Thistle then?”
Roman said.

“Know her? Oui, I know my darling
Thistle. She is one of my favourite lovers.”

Roman resisted the urge to punch
him in the mouth.

“You know she has lovers. Why do
you look so…upset?” He widened his eyes innocently.

“She’s been declared missing.”

“I heard. I hope she is found. I
will miss her if she isn’t.” He pouted prettily. When Roman didn’t respond he
continued. “I often asked Thistle for a little ménage a trois, to bring in the
wolf to play with us.”

Rose felt the tension in Roman go
up a notch and decided to intervene before Roman decided Pierre needed to be
ripped a new one. “Have you seen Thistle?” She subtly manoeuvred herself so
that she stood between the two men.

Pierre noticing the manoeuvre
smiled knowingly. “Not here.” 

He probably thought she was
protecting Roman from him, the arrogant fool.  She decided to let him have his
cocky moment.

“The last time I saw her was after
the moon ceremony.” He stared steadily at Roman. “I fucked her in Richmond Park.”

Control snapped, Rose felt it a
split second before Roman launched himself at Pierre, knocking her to one side.
Both males crashed to the ground. Roman straddled Pierre, grabbing him by the
front of his t-shirt. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he roared.

Pierre hissed, baring his fangs.
“Do not act the jilted lover, wolf. I can smell all the women you have given it
to. You fuck around and so does she.”

“SHUT UP!”

“Roman!” Rose tried to pull him
off.

“DON’T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!”

“She’s not yours,” Pierre said relatively calmly. “She is no one’s. She belongs only to herself.  You wolves
and your need to own. I warned her this would happen. After all, dogs do have a
tendency to get clingy.”

Roman’s grip tightened.

“It’s not worth it, Roman, let him
up.  Thistle wouldn’t want this.” Rose tugged at his bicep, taunt under her
fingers.

His grip immediately loosened and
Rose realised she had found the right thing to say.

Slowly, Roman rose and then
reluctantly offered Pierre a hand. After a moment’s pause Pierre took it. They
stood regarding each other– one rival assessing the other. Then, shaking his
head, Roman turned his back on him and left.  As far as he was concerned Pierre wasn’t even worth checking over his shoulder for.

Rose looked Pierre in the eyes. “He
knows she’s not his. It was a matter of respect. Thistle is missing and you
boast about fucking her. You’re a prick.”

Pierre smiled. “I know.”

“Has anyone seen Thistle tonight?”
Rose called out to the crowd.

There were a lot of shaking heads.

Rose left her spot and scanned the
club the best she could, checking the booths and dark corners. Thistle wasn’t
there.

Roman was waiting outside when she
left Mystique. “I’m sorry.” He was leaning against a wall looking up into the
sky.

“It’s okay.” Rose said.

Roman’s phone rang. He picked up.
“Anything?”

“No,”
Raven said.
“The
search is being called off tonight. Richmond Park is full of police and a huge
crowd. There was a raid on an illegal rave there. It’s too chaotic and risky to
search right now. Plus, by the time things calm down it will be sunrise.  At
sundown tomorrow the search will carry on there. Do you have anything to
report?”

“You may want to bring in a vampire
for questioning.”

“Name?”

“Pierre. French bloke. I don’t know
his last name.”

‘Is he at the club still?’

“Yes.”

“Wait there. Some people will be
over to question him shortly.”

Raven hung up.

Roman explained the situation to
Rose.

“We have to wait another day?” Rose
asked incredulous.

Roman nodded. “It’s shit. But we
can’t risk Richmond Park right now when all that is happening. It’s an exposure
risk.”

Rose sighed.

Roman slid down the wall into a
crouch. “I’m scared, Rose. Really fucking scared.”

Rose crouched beside him and put
her arms around him. They were both thinking about the demon attacks on the
city, both thinking about the rogue wolf attack, both thinking that it was a
very real possibility that they may not find Thistle alive. Neither voiced
their thoughts because voicing them would be giving them weight.

A black SUV pulled up.

Roman’s eyes flashed triumphantly.
“Looks like Pierre’s ride’s here.”

Waiting a whole day was hell and
Roman and Rose whiled away the hours by providing Flo with her very own
cleaning crew.  By sundown the house was actually sparkling and Flo, although
pleased with their efforts, was looking slightly worried.

“You sure you two don’t want any
dinner before you head out?”

Rose shook her head, hopping from
foot to foot. She had her coat on and was ready to head off.  Her phone beeped
in her pocket, signalling the arrival of a text. She withdrew it, read the text
and thumbed a quick reply before hastily shoving it back in her pocket.

“We’ll have a bite when we get
back.” Roman soothed Flo. “Promise.”  He too was ready to leave.

“Well okay, luv, if you’re sure.”
She still didn’t look convinced.  The pair of them hadn’t had a bite to eat all
day and she was worried they were going to make themselves sick with all the
stress.  “I’ll foil wrap your roasts and stick ‘em in the oven for when you get
in.”

“Great.” Rose smiled. Catching
sight of her reflection in the mirror by the door she decided to quit the
smile. She looked like she was grimacing.  She really was on edge.  If they
didn’t find some clues tonight it would mean…no, she wouldn’t think about that
just yet.

“Well, off with you then.” Flo
shooed them out the door. “The sooner you leave the sooner you can get back.”

It started to rain as they entered
the park. Then, as if someone had ripped the heavens open, it began to fall in
heavy sheets.

Roman cursed, pulling up his hood.
“This is really gonna mess with my scenting abilities.”

Rose regarded him curiously from
under the hood of her furry duffel coat.

Catching her enquiring look, he
explained. “The rain intensifies all the other, usually more passive scents,
making it harder to track the one you’re looking for.”

“In this case, Thistle.”

“Exactly.”

“We’ll just have to take it slow to
make sure we don’t overlook anything.” With that they began their long trek
through the grounds, feet squelching over grass and mud, which was quickly
turning almost boggy in places. They started from one end and worked their way
methodically over the park, winding through the trees.  From time to time Roman
would stop, head tilted upwards, nose in the air while the rain battered his face.
Then he would shake his head and urge them onwards.

Half an hour later they stopped,
jeans sopping wet against their calves where the rain had made its mark and the
water had climbed up the fabric. Denim was a bitch when it got wet.

“We should have worn longer coats.”
Rose said half-jokingly.

“I should have asked Raven for more
help. This place is huge, maybe with a few more noses we could get somewhere.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Raven offered but…I guess I wanted
to do this alone. I can see it in their eyes. They’ve all but given up. I know
what they’re thinking, they’ve made up their minds that-”

She clamped her hand over his
mouth. “Don’t say it. Let’s just…let’s keep looking.” He nodded slowly beneath
her hand, his eyes alight with warm gratitude. She removed her hand and they
continued their search.

As they walked, scanning the dark,
torches sweeping across the unlit areas, Rose thought of Thistle.  Her soft
melodic voice, the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed, her ironic sense
of humour and contradictory personality. She visualised her friend in her
mind’s eye until she could almost believe that she was there beside them,
walking abreast of them.  She stopped suddenly, gasping as a tugging sensation
gripped her mind.  Blinking rapidly she tried to focus on Roman who had walked
on ahead.  She tried to call out to him but found that she couldn’t form the
words. Her mind was suddenly filled with Thistle, like a glowing beacon calling
to her. She started to move, one foot in front of the other, following her
instincts in time to the pulsing beacon in her mind. 

She heard Roman call to her, but it
was as if from a great distance and she found that she could not heed him even
if she wanted to. She was in the grip of something much greater, the conviction
that if she continued she would find what she was looking for.

The pulsing grew faster and
stronger until she was all but buckling under the enormity of it. Yet, she kept
walking, blind to everything around her.

Faster, brighter, faster, so fast
that one blip blended into the other in one continuous long, throbbing pulse.
She screamed, falling to the ground, her body making impact with something
rough and hard.

“Rose! Rose!” Roman was shaking
her, his finger digging painfully into her shoulders.

She sobbed, holding on to him, the
beacon was gone, and her mind was clear. “I don’t know…I don’t know.” 

Roman’s face was as white as a
sheet, his eyes wild, full with fear and concern in equal measure.

 “Something…something made me…” She
couldn’t finish the thought, she found herself completely exhausted.

Roman helped her to her feet,
gently this time, pulling her away from the tree she had fallen against. “It’s
okay, whatever it is we’ll figure it out we’ll-” he stopped, his nostrils
flaring.  Sometime in the last few minutes the rain had eased up and was now a
light drizzle. 

“What? What is it?”

He looked at her wide-eyed.
“Thistle.” He reached out and touched the tree. “I can smell her…here, she was
here.”  Stepping closer he began to examine the huge trunk.  Fumbling for her
torch, Rose shone it over the bark.

“There! Stop!”  Roman commanded. 

Rose held steady with the light.

Carefully, Roman brought his nose
closer to the tree, his face crumpled in distaste and he flinched, stepping
backwards.

“What? What is it?” Rose hopped
from foot to foot, eager to know what he had found.

He held up a finger, a signal for
her to wait.  He moved to the right, sniffing, his fingers trailing over the
rough bark. He stopped, his eyes widening in shock and dismay. 

“For God’s sake, Roman!”

He stepped away from the tree as if
suddenly afraid it would bite. “Blood,” he said.  “Thistle’s blood and…”

“What?”

“Something else, something I’ve
never encountered before, something vile.”

His eyes, when he turned them to
her, were full of despair.

“Demon…” she whispered.

35.

NO TIME FOR LOVE

Harold finished the last bite of
his juicy, rare sirloin steak and sat back with a contented sigh, patting his
stomach and looking around the chic, expensive surroundings of Richmond’s most exclusive restaurant.  His girl really had expensive tastes and he was
starting to develop them too. 

The first few dates he had
protested, uncomfortable with her forking out for the theatre tickets or the
fancy meals, asserting that he could perfectly afford to pay for these things,
but she had been adamant. She had argued that these were her tastes so why
should he foot the bill. She had given him little choice but to go along, and
the discomfort had soon passed when he found that she didn’t protest to him
paying for the pub lunches and drinks.  Yeah, he was getting used to the
lifestyle and a part of him balked at this. It wasn’t in his wolf nature to be
cosseted. He was a hunter. But another part, the part that was in Faye’s
thrall, revelled in the attention.  Faye looked up from her salmon, caught his eyes,
and raised an amused eyebrow.

“What?” he prompted.

“Nothing, it’s just, you sitting
like that…I thought I’d just had a flash forward to our future– me having
cooked you a slap up meal.”

“You cooked?” He asked
incredulous. 

She pouted. “Okay, me having
ordered the cook to cook you something sumptuous and you sitting satisfied by a
roaring fire with a smug look on your face.” She giggled.

He laughed but his mood was already
dampened.  Because he knew this was an image that could never be, however much
he would want it to. 

Faye returned her attention to her
food and he reached for his beer, taking a long swig, studying her from under
his lashes. Once again he was struck by her beauty.  Her wavy, red hair was
pulled back in a low pony tail, a few errant tendrils escaping and curling
around her heart-shaped face.  Her eyes were bright and large in her face, her
emerald V-neck top making them seem even greener than he knew they were. 

Noting his appraisal, she put down
her fork, narrowing her eyes playfully and pursing her lips in a coquettish
manner. “What are you looking at?”

Harold shrugged, his face breaking
into a grin, which he knew probably looked stupid, but didn’t care. “You look
beautiful.”  The words came easily and sincerely as they always seemed to with
her. 

Harold wasn’t the type of man to
give a compliment, well not without an ulterior motive anyway.  He had been
with a lot of women in his life, said a lot of things to get what he wanted and
then swiftly moved on.  But he had known as soon as he had laid eyes on her
that Faye would be different. If he had been less arrogant he would have turned
and run the other way. But, as usual, his utter confidence in his ability to
control the situation had landed him in a pickle. When he wasn’t with her he
could see it clearly, even convince himself of what needed to be done. He
needed to end it with her, be such an arsehole that she would walk away.  He
would be ready to do just that before each date and then she would walk into
the room and all his convictions would fall away, save one. He was utterly and
completely in love with this woman. 

He sighed as the thoughts ran
through his mind, knowing he was too weak, too selfish to let her go, knowing
that all he could give her was a moment of his life. He would bond soon, he
knew that.  He could happen across his mate at any moment and then the world
would fall away and he would be trapped into a lifetime with someone he didn’t
love. Yes, some wolves got lucky, they fell in love and bonded with their mate,
others bonded then fell in love. The alpha was a perfect example– he had met
Marianne in Russia at an international werewolf council meeting, bonded
instantly and fallen in love almost as rapidly.  Some wolves got lucky. Harold
knew he wasn’t one of them.  He had found his true love but could never be with
her.  For the first time in his life as a werewolf he had begun to wish he was
human. If
that
wasn’t love then he didn’t know what was.

Faye blushed under his scrutiny.
“Stop that, we’re in public.”  She kicked him playfully under the table.
“There’s plenty of time for that later.” 

She smiled suggestively and his
heart beat accelerated at the promise in the words, but then plummeted as he
remembered that he had only a few hours with her before he had to report back
to patrol.  No need to tell her that yet, though. No need to spoil the mood.
Damon had promised to call at ten to allow him to make his excuses and leave. 
He knew the only reason he had been allowed to meet with her tonight was
because of her proximity to Rose and therefore the overall situation.  The only
people Faye really knew, the pack and Rose, were all tied up with the
disappearance of Thistle, and Richard didn’t want to risk Faye asking
questions. She had texted him earlier in the evening, upset that Rose had blown
her off again, upset that she hadn’t seen him for the past two days.  He was
just heading out on patrol but had shown Damon the text, who then had spoken to
Raven about it. They had all agreed that Harold should meet with her, take her
mind off Rose and keep things normal.

“So what’s kept you so busy, you
couldn’t even call?”  She asked. “Don’t I deserve more than a couple of texts?”
She pouted prettily.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’ve been really
busy. And it’s been all hands on deck at the garage these past couple of days.”

Faye looked suddenly pensive,
gnawing at her bottom lip adorably. “You would tell me if it was…if there was
someone else?” she asked softly, just as he took another swig from his bottle.

Harold almost choked on his beer.
“What!” 

“I mean, I know we never said we
were exclusive, maybe I shouldn’t have assumed…forget I said anything.”  She
bit her lip again, looking suddenly very young and uncertain. 

Harold’s heart went out to her.  Is
that what she had been thinking?  All those hours he hadn’t called, all that
time wondering if he was with someone else, kissing someone else.  Then the
image flipped and it was Faye with someone else, in someone else’s arms,
kissing someone else.  He slammed his beer down hard enough for some to slop
out onto the table.

Faye sat back in shock, her mouth
parted in a soft ‘o’, her eyes wide and wary. Immediately he reached out to
her, leaning toward her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

She allowed him to take her hand,
relaxing slightly, her expression still wary. 

“Just the thought, that you could
even think that there could be someone else…I couldn’t even think about it.” 
His tone was soft but his words were firm, and he saw in the softening of her
expression that she believed him. He sat back slightly, still clasping her
dainty hand in his. “And just for the record, we are most definitely
exclusive.”

“Good.”  She smiled with the usual
twinkle back in her eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”  She shook her
head, allowing a few more tendrils to escape from her hair clip. “It’s just
that over the last couple of weeks I’ve felt that everyone I care about is
drifting away from me.”

Ah, here it was. “You mean Rose,
don’t you?”

Faye nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I
hardly see her anymore. She’s either working or with Thistle.” 

“But you have been spending a lot
of time with Catherine lately,” he said gently.

She stuck out her bottom lip. “So? 
I’m allowed to make new friends, aren’t I?” She glared at him defiantly and he
blinked, startled by her abrupt change in mood.

“Of course you are, baby.”

Sighing, she slumped back in her
seat. “Honestly, I would never have started to hang around with Catherine if I
had anticipated how much Rose would dislike her. Then when I found out, well, I
wasn’t about to abandon a new friend just to pacify an old one.” She crossed
her arms across her chest.

“Did Rose ask you to do that?” he
asked disbelievingly.

 Rose may have rubbed him up the
wrong way a couple of times but he couldn’t help but harbour a grudging respect
for the woman– her adjustment to the werewolves and her own nature and then her
desire to help find Thistle all demanded respect.  He didn’t want to believe
she could be this petty. 

In answer to his question Faye
shook her head and he relaxed. “But then I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is I have to choose
between the two, and when I choose Catherine then Rose goes off with Thistle.”

“You’re worried that she’ll grow
closer to Thistle.” 

She nodded miserably and he
resisted the urge to tell her that he didn’t think that Thistle would pose a
threat anymore.  No, he reminded himself, there was still hope that they would
find Thistle. He had to believe that. “You two are best friends and that’s not
something that just disappears. You just need to make sure you make time for
each other.”

“I asked her out tonight, remember?
And she blew me off, said she had a migraine coming.” 

Something niggled at the back of
Harold’s mind, some tidbit of info that he couldn’t quite grasp but that he
knew with certainty was important.

“Yeah, the thought of coming out
with me makes her ill.” Faye looked suddenly miserable. 

Harold reached for her hand giving
it a reassuring squeeze. “Or she could really have a migraine.”

“Oh.” Faye looked stumped. “I never
thought of that.” 

Harold smiled, still trying to
grasp that elusive thought running amok inside his mind.

Faye summoned the maitre’d by
catching his eye and arching her brow ever so slightly. He always marvelled at
her ability to do that.

The reed-thin man approached the
table, smiling fawningly at Faye. “Madam would like dessert?” 

Faye looked questioningly at
Harold. 

Personally, he would have loved
dessert, but time was getting on and Damon would be calling soon, he didn’t
want to run out during the meal.  “Not for me, thanks.”

Faye smiled warmly at the maitre’d.
“Just the bill, please.”

“Yes, madam.” He nodded, and
slipped away.

Stepping out into the cold air,
Faye wrapped like a beautiful parcel in a long beige cashmere coat that clung
to her curves becomingly, the lovers linked arms.  Faye huddled closer to
Harold who withdrew his arm, using it to pull her closer against his side where
his natural animal heat could seep into her. 

He still had an hour before patrol.
“So what do you want to do now?” he whispered into her hair.

“Can we just walk for a while?”

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

“Richmond Park is just round the
corner, we could go there. It’s beautiful.” She sighed happily.

And then the thought he had been
struggling to grasp suddenly popped willingly into his head. Richmond Park was where Rose and Roman would be searching for clues to Thistle’s whereabouts. 

Shit.

He needed to act fast– he couldn’t
allow Faye to see them there and begin to ask questions. Although, what kind of
questions could she ask? She’d probably just think they were on a date or
something.  But Rose and Roman weren’t together like that and was it fair to
let Faye assume they were? Wouldn’t it put Rose under more pressure? Not to
mention Roman would be really fucked off. As much as Harold liked to rile him,
this wasn’t one of those times. The best thing would be to avoid the park.

He thought fast. “You know what, I
fancy a drink.”

“We can go for a drink after.” Faye
pointed out. “Please.” She batted her eyelashes.

He sighed. What could he do? He
would just have to hope they wouldn’t bump into Roman and Rose. The park was a
big enough place, plus he had his animal senses to keep alert for them.
“Anything for you, baby.” 

They headed for the park.

Roman put his phone into his
pocket, having reported their findings to Raven. Their job in the park was now
done. Raven had ordered Roman to go home and get some rest.  Maxwell would be
sent to the scene to collect any evidence and the vampires would be informed. 
He heard, in his Beta’s voice, the belief that Thistle was dead. Even though he
knew logic dictated this, even though his mind accepted this, his heart refused
to follow suit.

“Roman…you okay?”  Rose reached out
tentatively to touch his shoulder. 

They were leaving the park, damp
and dishevelled. The rain, thankfully, had stopped. 

Roman shook off his thoughts and
turned to her.  “I should be asking you that question.  That was pretty
impressive what you did.”

Rose shook her head. “I…I don’t
even know what I did, or how.”

“There must have been something
that prompted it?”

“I suppose…I was thinking about
Thistle. I mean, really visualising her, and then…” she rubbed her forehead.
“Urgh, it’s all fuzzy and my head hurts.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out
tomorrow. Maxwell might be able to help. What we need now is food and sleep.”

“Even though I don’t feel hungry up
here,” she tapped her head, “my stomach seems to think otherwise.” As if on cue
her stomach let out a loud rumble of dissatisfaction.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you
mean.” Roman smiled sadly. “I’m glad you’re here, Rose…thanks.” His eyes were
filled with an emotion she couldn’t identify and then he dropped his head and
continued walking.

Rose did the same.

“Rose!”

Rose’s head snapped up, her body
tensing, she knew that voice.

“Rose, is that you?”

Faye.

“No time to hide.” Roman whispered.

“But I told her I had a migraine
and couldn’t go out with her tonight.”

“Just say we were on a date.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“You got any other bright ideas?”

She bit her lip. Damn! And then
there was no more time to think because Faye was upon them.