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

by Amos Cassidy

  It’s painful because you care too much, because he’s right. The little voice of righteousness whispered in her ear.

  Shut up, annoying inner voice! And where the hell were you last night anyway! She scowled and Roman looked slightly taken aback.

  “You okay?” He asked.

  She frowned, shaking her head, “Oh, it’s not you. It’s that annoying little voice you hear sometimes. You know, the voice of reason and morality? I was just wondering where the hell it was last night.”

  Roman’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “And what did it say?”

  She sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, her lip curling slightly. “That you were right.” She rolled her eyes.

  He chuckled. “You see this is why I lo-” he clamped his lips together, his eyes wide with insight.

  Rose felt like she had been belted in the gut.

  “I have to go.” His voice was strangled and uneven. “I’m already running late.” He brushed past her quickly without making eye contact, but leaving the trail of fire on her skin where his body touched hers.

  Roman loved her…

  34.

  ONE WEEK LATER

  Roman knew it was going to be a good day. He could tell as soon as he opened his curtains. It was a glorious Saturday morning. There was frost on the ground and the air was crisp. The sun was a burning disc in the blue sky and only a few puffs of white floated across. Days like these were good days, happiness-inducing days. There was just something about a sunny day that put the spring in your step and compelled you to get out of bed.

  Roman took a hot shower, singing as he did so. He felt good. And then breakfast was his next thing. That was surprisingly pleasant too. Rose, Flo, Erin and himself all sat together and ate omelettes, which Flo had expertly prepared.

  Things with Rose had seemed to have reached a balance at last. After the Friday evening a week ago when they had almost…anyway, after that night, and after their little chat the morning after, they had been rubbing along just fine. Not exactly avoiding each other but chilling out more with others around. So far it had worked. Sure, there was the odd moment or two when he would look at her and suddenly be struck by the way the light played on her hair, or the sweeping curve of her lashes, but he was quick to squash the thoughts. So far, so good. He was actually pretty sure he was getting over her, and getting over her meant they could go back to being verbal sparring partners. And maybe even friends. She might even meet someone and have a relationship and he could be happy for her.

  And someone else would be kissing her, holding her, burying himself inside her hot and tight…Okay, enough of that. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, right this moment, life felt almost good and he wasn’t going to let anything rob him of that feeling. Anyway, he would be seeing Thistle in the evening– they had prearranged the date a week ago. Everything would be back on an even keel.

  He smiled as he chewed the last of his omelette.

  “Another triumph,” he said to Flo and kissed her on the cheek. “I could eat them all day.”

  “Ain’t you sweet,” Flo said. “What’s the catch?”

  Roman chuckled. “No catch. Just feeling good.”

  “He wants money,” Erin said.

  Flo laughed. “How much do ya want?”

  Roman raised his arms in faux righteous indignation. “Can’t a man just express his love of a good omelette?”

  “Oh, well I won’t get me purse.”

  “There’s no need. Just telling you I love your cooking.” He gave her another kiss before making his exit.

  Flo looked surprised. “I thought this would go back and forth for a few minutes until he admitted, in his way of doing it, that he needed to borrow some money because he’d blown it all again. It burns a hole in his pocket.”

  “Maybe he is genuinely feeling good.” Rose’s mouth twisted wryly as she regarded the doorway Roman had just flown out of. He had been more relaxed around her of late, even though she had noticed they were never exactly alone together. She wasn’t sure whether it was by coincidence or orchestration on his part. Regardless, it seemed to be working. Roman seemed back to his usual, flighty self. Could it be that he was over her? The possibility wrought a mixture of emotions– relief and disappointment and regret.

  She tuned out the thoughts. Producing a genuine smile, she turned her face up to Flo. “He’s right about the omelette though.”

  Flo dimpled with pleasure. “Thanks, sweetheart. Want another cuppa?”

  “Yes please.”

  “I’ll stick the kettle on.” She padded toward the doorway and called out. “Want some tea, Roman?”

  “No thanks. I’m going out.” Roman called back. He appeared in the dining room shortly after, his coat on. “I feel like enjoying the lovely sunshine. See you in a bit.”

  “Bye.” Erin waved him off.

  Rose refused to be miffed that he hadn’t even glanced at her. This was good. This was how it should be…then why did she suddenly feel so dejected?

  “See ya, luv.” Flo called after him. “Don’t know what’s put the spring in his bleedin’ step this morning,” Flo said.

  Thistle, Rose thought.

  Thistle would be back from her break. Roman would be seeing Thistle this evening. Thistle had put the spring back in his step. He was over her and Thistle was back. This was the way it should be. Thistle was her friend and she resolved to be happy for them.

  Roman enjoyed being bathed in light as he walked to Hammersmith tube station. The ground crackled under his feet still coated in a sheen of frost and the air was sharp and refreshing. On his way he encountered Mr and Mrs Williams, owners of the small green grocers, and a very glamorous blonde woman with legs and breasts he’d like to see more of. They all had a cheery hello for him– the blonde being more flirtatious than Mr and Mrs Williams.

  Roman was grinning as he descended the steps to the platform. He chided himself for not getting the hot woman’s number but in the next heartbeat dismissed the thought. Thistle was back and he wanted to lose himself in thoughts of her. She’d been gone on her post-moon stuff all week. She hadn’t come back the night before.

  Most of the vampires did come back exactly a week later, but they were allowed an extra day as long as they reported in first. Thistle always took an extra day. He was looking forward to her phone call later– and the marathon sex session to make up for her absence. God knew he needed it. The thing with Rose had taken its toll and there was only so much sexual frustration his beast would allow him to endure. Thistle understood that, that’s why they were so good together. They both fed each other’s primal needs, at least until they found their rightful mates.

  He was looking forward to throwing himself back into his relationship and getting back to his playboy ways. It had worked for him so far and the Rose thing would just fade away.

  Yep, he could just tell it was going to be a good day. Call it werewolf instinct.

  The train pulled in and he boarded it, bound for Central London.

  Soho was alive this morning. And a sense of euphoria filled the air. Roman absorbed everything around him, the smells, the people, the colourful shops, the sounds. He loved it. He got some bargain CDs from his favourite record shop and some heavenly, crumbly fudge from a very small and cool sweet shop.

  Two women passed him and he accidentally tapped into their conversation as they walked by.

  “She sent him a text message saying that she really loves him and that she’s really lonely. She said why does he have to be in the pub every night? She begged him to come home, begged him big time,” said the woman with the dark bob.

  “That girl has got the biggest heart,” said the other woman, a buxom blonde.

  “Either that or really low self-esteem. I mean, I wouldn’t put up with that crap. If that was me he’d be out on his ear.’”

  The blonde nodded. “She deserves better.”

  “Absolutely. We need to get her out to have some fun. Maybe she’
ll forget all about him then.”

  “I’d love to smack him right in the…”

  The conversation continued as they walked further away, their voices dying out.

  Poor girl, Roman thought. Hope she sees the light and dumps the dick quick.

  Roman continued his walk through Soho, passing bookshops selling books of art and fiction. Inside some of the books shops were XXX neon signs with arrows pointing down to a staircase.

  Roman remembered going into one of these shops for the first time with Damon.

  He laughed at the memory. He remembered Damon’s perfect veneer of sophistication crack wide open as he looked at the huge selection of porno down those stairs. In fact, Damon hadn’t known where to look. He had stammered responses to Roman’s questions and turned beet-red in the process. Yet, Roman was convinced Damon had secretly purchased a few things that day.

  An old man with a flat cap smoking a pipe, wearing a brown wax jacket and jodhpurs, with a very prominent white moustache, walked by. He tipped his hat to Roman.

  “Morning,” Roman said.

  “Good morning, young man,” the man replied. He took a long draw on his pipe and exhaled.

  Roman was not a smoker, he never really saw the need or point of it, but he had to admit that he did like the smell of the pipe.

  “I do love these fresh October mornings.” The man looked up at the sky then back at Roman.

  “Me too. It’s a nice day for a stroll.”

  “Indeed it is, young man. There is nothing I enjoy more than walking around my wonderful neighbourhood in the morning with just my pipe and my thoughts for company. Taking a walk is good for the mind, good for the soul.” He placed his left hand on his heart as he spoke, tapping his chest when he said the word soul, as if indicating that his soul was in his chest.

  “Yeah, blows away the cobwebs.”

  “Ah, the minds of the young.” He took another puff of his pipe. “The minds of the young are so clogged up with worry, with angst, with courting and love and sex and money. I remember it well and it all seems so important. But one day you’ll see it isn’t, it won’t matter. One day all of that angst will go and you will be free. It probably won’t happen until your autumn years, or later. But one day it will. One day you will see that life is the simple joys of a pipe and a walk. Pleasure is not a complex mistress.”

  “I don’t smoke,” Roman said wistfully.

  The man chuckled. “Then you will have to find a pipe of a different kind.”

  Roman had a few comebacks for that line but decided against using them. “I’m probably the world’s biggest pleasure-seeker. Believe me when I say I’m good at what I do. But no amount of pleasure can take away the complexities of life. Unfortunately, we can’t live simply for pleasure.”

  The man puffed on his pipe. “You can if you allow yourself to.”

  Roman wanted to protest. He wanted to remind the man about loss, sadness, pain, death, war, famine, poverty, sickness, financial worry…but he held back. Maybe the man had seen his fair share of those things. Maybe he had lost loved ones and suffered and now was his time to enjoy his walks and his pipe. Roman felt his joy slipping away. He really didn’t need these thoughts tainting his morning, didn’t want to wade into deep thoughts.

  The man tipped his hat. “Good day to you, young man. I must bid you farewell. Maybe we will meet again on some other morning walk.”

  “Maybe we will.” Roman hoped they didn’t. The experience had thrown a shadow over his bright mood. “Have a good one.”

  The man nodded and turned, continuing his walk.

  Roman’s pushed away his dark thoughts clasping at the joy he had felt all morning, he wasn’t going to let anything bring him down. Today was not a day for thinking. Anyway, the man had been talking about pleasure. It was Roman who was thinking about the dark stuff. So pleasure it was. This day was a pleasure day.

  His phone started ringing. He answered it. “Hello?”

  “It’s Raven.”

  “Hey, mate. Why do you sound so glum?”

  “Where are you?”

  “In Soho.”

  “We need to talk. It’s urgent.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I received a phone call this morning from Alpha. Jeremiah contacted him. Thistle has not reported in. She did not return last night and she did not contact Jeremiah to inform him of the extra day.”

  “What?”

  “Jeremiah is deeply worried. Richard has instructed us to be on alert. If she does not return at sundown then she will be declared missing. We will be searching for her if she doesn’t.”

  “Shit, you sure? Shit, of course you’re sure…shit!” His mind was reeling. He didn’t want to contemplate the implications.

  “I’m sorry, Roman.”

  “No, don’t be, there’s nothing to be sorry about. She’s probably having a blast, lost track of time…”

  There was a long pause in which Roman tried to convince himself of what he had just said, and Raven waited patiently for him to fail.

  “Shit!” Roman said, losing his inner battle. Thistle wasn’t one to break the rules.

  “Do you want me to come and meet you?”’

  “No, it’s…it’s okay. I’ll go home.”

  And he did.

  Sundown came, and so did the rain. But Thistle did not. Raven came to the house along with two vampires, Anthony and Jared. They all stood in the hallway– Rose, Roman, Flo, Raven and the vampires. Erin was in his room playing X-Box. Damon, Kris and Harold had been assigned areas to patrol– some of Thistle’s favourite haunts. Raven, Roman and the vampires were to go to Soho together and search her favourite places in that area, as well as all of the surrounding areas.

  “The car is waiting outside,” Raven said.

  This wasn’t like Thistle. She was not one to really break the rules, especially post-moon stuff rules. Thistle knew how worried Jeremiah would be. But was she doing it deliberately? She’d told Roman about her punishment, about the song she wasn’t allowed to perform.

  “I can’t believe this,” Flo said. “I hope you find her. This ain’t like Thistle at all.”

  “Let me get my coat,” Roman said. “I left it in my room.”

  “I’m coming.” Rose burst into his room shortly after he’d entered it.

  Roman opened his mouth to speak and Rose held up her hand to stall him.

  “Don’t even try and tell me no,” she said. “I know what’s coming. This is not a matter for me, or some bollocks line like that. Well, tough. This is a matter that concerns me. I’m her friend. That girl has been so good to me. When I was shit scared about all this supernatural stuff, she was there for me. She made it okay, she made me feel like everything was going to be all right.” Her eyes flashed with determination. “I need to do this and I know I can help. I don’t know what I am and I don’t know what my power can do. But I can kick arse if I need to. I’m part of the supernatural world now. I’m involved and I’m coming with you.” She finished, breathless.

  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.