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

by Amos Cassidy

  Thistle took her arm and pulled her away.

  “Th-th-there was…”

  “I know,” Thistle said.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Yes,” Thistle agreed.

  “Something’s here,” said Rose. “I know something’s here, I can feel it…”

  The foul smell that was on the air suddenly assaulted her nostrils in a thick stream, aggravating her gag reflex. She bent over as it overpowered her, clutching her stomach as she dry heaved and coughed. “And…I can smell it…” she choked.

  Thistle was silent.

  Click, click…

  The noise again…

  Click, click…

  Rose strained her eyes, scanning the darkness around them, unable to pinpoint the origin of the strange noise. She knew with horrible instinct that whatever lurked in the darkness that was making the noise was something that she should only ever encounter in her nightmares

  Click, click…

  Every hair was standing on end. Every nerve was twitching and dancing in preparation.

  Click, click…

  “Rose,” Thistle said. “Stay close.” She took Rose’s arm again. “Don’t leave my side.”

  Click, click…

  A small light in the alley suddenly flickered to life weakly, granting reprieve from the darkness. They were standing by a large bin, the tiny light above that. It almost seemed to twitch with anxiety.

  Click, click…

  A white glow fell from above, stronger than the little light.

  On the dirty brickwork of the wall before them something sat, stuck to the wall like a spider. It looked like a person. But it wasn’t, it was a creature born of nightmare. Two white lights shone from two crudely cut eye sockets that sat in a gaunt face, an almost hollow skull covered in pallid grey skin. It was bald, save for a tuft of dirty, white hair. The creature wore black robes that were shredded and torn. More of that grey, pallid skin hung over harsh, jutting bone. The thing that looked like a corpse was tapping deadly sharp talons that erupted out of its fingers and toes against the wall.

  Click, click, click, click, click…

  Then the creature moved down the wall, its body contorting unnaturally as it descended and landed on the large bin.

  Rose and Thistle leapt back.

  It got to its feet, its back hunched, and it looked directly at Rose.

  Those two white lights bore into her and she resisted the urge to gag, her heart in her throat. She grabbed onto Thistle, her nails digging into flesh.

  The thing opened its mouth, exposing rotting black teeth and black gums that oozed a thick black slime.

  Rose heaved again as a fresh wave of acrid aroma, of pure rot, poured from its decaying mouth. But she kept her eyes on the creature, not daring to look away. It took a silent breath. The motions of breathing inwards were performed by its body but there was absolutely no sound at all. The tiny light that had come on to aid them in the dark died out. The creature’s two white lights grew brighter. Those two white lights were now the only source of illumination. They cast their eerie glow within a short range, the darkness clinging to the edges, longing to consume everything again.

  Rose did the first thing she could think of, the only thing her brain wanted her to do as she looked at this thing that must have crawled from the pits of some kind of Hell. She screamed louder than she thought she ever could. It exploded from her body.

  The creature raised it arms defensively, stumbled backward slightly before jumping from the bin. Its white lights blazed with fury and it swung its arm out, talons glinting in the glow of the lights.

  Rose stumbled backwards as the talons scraped across her chest. She quickly checked herself in panic. Her dress had a large slice in it, but her skin was untouched.

  Thistle sprang forward in a blur of electric blue. The airy, sultry, slightly away with the fairies look that Thistle always wore had gone. There was something else there now, a stamp of danger, something deadly. She was moving quickly toward the creature, delivering a blow to its head and retreating out of range as it swiped at her with its talons.

  There was another new feature to Thistle too. Rose was trying to process it through her fear and her immobility as she stood frozen to the spot, not knowing what the fuck to do.

  Thistle had fangs! Two white points protruding from her mouth.

  The creature leapt at Thistle, grabbed her by the throat, hissing and spitting black ooze at her. She went for a kick, but the creature must have anticipated it and threw her into the large bin with a loud crash.

  “Bastard!” Thistle spat, getting to her feet.

  The creature shrieked in an awful, toxic pitch. It swung at Thistle, just missing her face as she rolled out of the way.

  “Shit!” Rose yelped.

  What should she do? She didn’t know what to do. Her body wouldn’t move. It had shut down all motor functions. She couldn’t run and she couldn’t help. What the fuck was this thing? This couldn’t be real. These things only existed in books, films and dreams. And Thistle was not…did not have fangs…wasn’t a…vampire. That was crazy…

  The creature was inhaling, a constant motion of taking a breath that held Thistle where she was. Something strange was happening to her as the thing sucked inward. Rose couldn’t understand it completely, but it didn’t look right. It was almost as if it was eating Thistle, taking the essence that made her something and turning it into nothing. Its two white lights were growing brighter as it sucked. That same horrible feeling she’d had when they had tried to leave the alley– that absence of being, was washing over her again. That was enough. Whatever was going on, she wouldn’t stand there and let her friend become…nothing. As if someone had flipped the bravado switch, Rose pulled herself up straighter, her face contorting into a derisive snarl.

  “Oi!” She growled. “You’re in serious need of a hose down and some mouth wash!”

  The thing turned on her, stopping what it was doing.

  Thistle groaned and fell to her knees.

  “Seriously,” Rose continued, “how can you live like that?” She was terrified but held her ground. Her nerves were being thrashed like the string on a heavy metal guitar. Yet adrenaline was pumping through her body.

  She ducked as it lashed at her, another narrow miss. She swung a punch in retaliation and missed.

  “Rose…” Thistle grunted, still on her knees and barely visible as the creature’s light swung away from her, leaving her shrouded in darkness.

  Rose was distracted for a second, worry for Thistle warring with the flash of fangs and the threat of talons. Her distraction cost her as she was struck in the forehead. She fell hard cracking the back of her head on concrete. The creature had struck her with a bony elbow and now towered above her. She was dizzy, couldn’t move, surprised by the strike.

  A distorted smile spread across the things face as it reached up its arm, black teeth bared, black slime dripping from its mouth, talons ready to be driven into her chest.

  “ROSE!” Thistle screamed.

  Rose lay stunned, fixated on the monster above her.

  “I’m coming, Rose!”

  Rose didn’t move. The fear, the anger, the adrenaline, the frustration whirled together inside her. She was screwed, this Hell creature was going to kill her and then Thistle, and do some more of that weird eating/sucking thing and make them nothing. She couldn’t let that happen, she had to stop it. Heat started to rise in her chest, pouring through her veins into every corner of her body. It burned. The pain of it intensified rapidly as it built up and up and up and up. Fire, fire was coursing through her, white-hot agony ripping and biting at her.

  The creature hesitated.

  Through a haze of pain Rose saw what looked like panic flicker in those two white lights that passed for eyes. Then the agony of the heat was too much. Her body wanted it out and golden flame exploded from her hands, from her mouth, from her eyes, as she screa
med in pure pained fury.

  The creature wailed and the sheer horror, the pure force of its dying shriek brought acid up to her mouth. The golden flames continued to pour from her, obscuring the creature. It was burning the nightmare away, bathing its darkness in light. The golden flame extinguished itself in one final, painful push.

  Released from the pain she blinked, looking around her. All of the lights were on again, the nothing that had been around them becoming something again, normality restored. The alley was an alley again. There was no trace of the creature left behind. No charred corpse, no pile of dust. It was just gone, taking its stench with it.

  Rose was breathing heavily as she sat up. Her head throbbed and her body ached. Her throat was sore from screaming. Her eyes searched for Thistle and found her. She was still on her knees, looking right at her, fangs bared. They stared at each other with a new focus, almost warily. Things had been revealed about both of them, things that needed the moment of silence that followed.

  15.

  AFTERSHOCK

  “Nice fangs.” Rose mentally checked herself over for any serious damage. Everything seemed to be in working order. She never took her eyes off Thistle. She knew she had probably just saved her life and she knew she wouldn’t hurt her. Her regard wasn’t due as much to wariness as fascination.

  After what had just gone down she should be a gibbering wreck. And she noted with some detachment that somewhere deep inside her she was still screaming, albeit silently. Her mind however was doing some strange assimilation thing and accepting the evidence before her. Thistle was a vampire and they had just been attacked by some kind of nightmare beast. “So you’re a vampire.”

  Thistle nodded slowly, her eyes narrowed with a mixture of wariness, scepticism and concern. “I know what I am but what the hell are you?”

  Rose had been trying to avoid thinking about that, but as if Thistle’s words had unlocked the box in which her mind had squashed that mammoth query, she found herself the subject of a rapid kaleidoscope of images– heat, burning, searing light and pain. Her legs buckled, suddenly as weak as jelly, and she stumbled.

  Thistle, quick as lightning, grasped her around the waist in an iron-like grip. “It’s okay, just breathe,” she soothed.

  Rose, realising she was holding her breath, let it out in whoosh of air followed by greedy inhalations. “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! What the hell just happened? What the hell did I just do?” she gasped.

  “I don’t know but you saved our lives and you…killed that thing.” Thistle’s voice sounded odd and on some level Rose detected a hint of admiration.

  Rose breathed shallow and even, battling the rising nausea as her senses recalled the beast’s rancid stench. After a few moments the feeling subsided. “Thanks. I-I’m okay now. I’m okay.”

  Thistle tentatively released her grip, stepping out of Rose’s personal space once she was certain Rose would not buckle again.

  They stood this way for a further few moments– Rose’s mind reeling with the implications of what had just transpired and Thistle regarding her with open curiosity.

  “It was a demon, I think.” Thistle bit her lip.

  Rose noted that her fangs had retracted or whatever you call it. “Really?”

  “There have been some attacks recently– the council is looking into them.”

  “Council?”

  “For the supernatural community.”

  “Supernatural community?” Okay, so she realised that she sounded like an echo but she really couldn’t help it.

  “We need to report this and we need to get you assimilated into the community. You need support from your own kind.” Thistle’s tone was uncharacteristically brusque and business like.

  Rose was suddenly gripped with panic. “Hang on there a minute, I’m not assimilating into anything and I definitely don’t want anyone to know about…about what I just did.”

  Thistle looked surprised.

  “I just want to forget it ever happened, just go on as normal.”

  Thistle smiled wryly. “If only things could be that simple. You have no idea how often I’ve yearned for that very thing.” A faraway look came into her eyes but she shook it away before it could take hold. “You can’t run from who you are, Rose. I’m not certain what you are but I’d take a guess and say some kind of warlock. From your reaction I can assume you weren’t aware of your nature, so we can safely assume you’re a latent.”

  “Latent?” Okay, so she was doing it again.

  “Some kind of supernatural beings lead completely normal lives unaware of their abilities. We call them latents. Their powers lie dormant. Sometimes they never surface and other times…well, a traumatic experience can trigger the release of their powers.”

  “A traumatic event like being attacked by a demon with crazy glowing eyes, halitosis and killer BO?” Rose said dryly. Yeah, she could see how that could tip the scales.

  This was too much to take in. Thistle was a vampire and she was some kind of warlock and they all lived in a supernatural community overseen by a council who hunted demons and everyone lived crazily ever after. Okay, time to acclimatise.

  “There is no other way.” Thistle continued. “There is another world out there– the real world where the creatures of myth and legend walk free, and you, Rose, are a part of it, whether you like it or not. You can’t learn to control your power on your own. Someone innocent could get hurt.”

  It was the last part that convinced her. If this was just about her she would happily deal with it, she’d suffer in silence to cling to some semblance of normality. But this wasn’t just about her. She couldn’t risk hurting anyone. What if she lost her temper and incinerated someone at the gym? Or worse? Was there a worse? She couldn’t bear to think about it. There was a new energy inside her– she could feel it coursing through her veins. She didn’t know how to control it, didn’t know all it was capable of. Even as she processed these thoughts, a small part of her came alight with the thrill of the extraordinary– to be different, to be more than…

  “Rose?”

  “I need time, please, give me a couple of days to be… just to be.”

  Thistle shifted her gaze so she was looking just beyond Rose. She sighed. “Two days, Rose. On Monday we tell the council.”

  As they walked side by side out of the alley, Rose turned to Thistle, a new disturbing thought having popped into her mind. It seemed to be the night of disturbing thoughts. “Roman! Does he know?”

  “It’s not important. I don’t feed off humans.”

  “That,” Rose said with emphasis, “was going to be my next question.”

  16.

  GATHERING

  Thistle was the first of the guests to arrive. Today she was dressed in skin-tight blue leather pants and a ruffled white shirt. She had probably left as soon as the sun went down, Rose thought.

  “You okay?” Rose asked. “Is that sunlight burning you to a crisp thing true?”

  “I’m fine and yeah, it is.” Thistle’s brow creased in a frown. “But, considering the events of last night, I think I should be asking you that question.”

  “I’m fine and the sun never really bothered me.” Rose quipped, then sobered quickly under Thistle’s serious regard. She sighed. “I’m fine, honestly.” She held the tea tray she had just emptied of its bounty of sandwiches to her chest. The buffet table Flo had set up in the living room looked ravish-worthy. “It’s strange, but I feel better than I’ve ever felt.”

  She wanted to explain how she had woken this morning feeling as if she was finally complete, as if she finally made sense, like something had clicked inside her. Sure the fear of the unknown was still there, but it had morphed more into a thrilling anticipatory kind of fear. Weird, but then she was a supernatural being.

  Thistle picked up a tuna sandwich and took a dainty bite. “Mmmm, tuna is my absolute favourite.”

  Rose stared at her with wide eyes.

  “Of course I eat. There’s no way I could survive on a b
lood only diet. Blood is just essential to my diet.”

  Rose shook her head. “No, that’s tuna. I thought you were a vegetarian.”

  “Oh.” Thistle shrugged. “I eat fish.”

  “Oh.” Okay this was weird, why wasn’t she more freaked out by everything?

  Maybe because you are a freak...

  Shut up annoying little voice!

  Thistle polished off the last of her sandwich. “So what are you going to do with your last day of freedom?”

  Ah, now this Rose had given some thought to. “I want to go out, cinema, dinner, a long walk, just normal things”

  Thistle nodded.

  “And I was hoping you’d join me.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather take Faye?”

  “Honestly….no.”

  “Okay, lovely.”

  “Great.”

  They beamed at each other.

  Roman sauntered into the room, his hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a plain white T-shirt with blue jeans hanging low on his hips. “You girls look happy. You talking about me?”

  He looked good enough to eat.

  Let’s hope Thistle doesn’t feel the same way…Rose bit down on a giggle, letting out a strange, strangled noise instead

  Thistle raised an eyebrow and smirked as if reading her thoughts.

  “Actually we were just comparing men and vibrators,” Rose said.

  “Er…really?” Roman looked intrigued.

  “Yep. We’ve decided vibrators win hands down. They’re always there when you need them and never cum before you do. They don’t leave the toilet seat up, or fart in bed and you don’t need to cook or clean for them.”

  Roman smirked. “Thistle, tell me it isn’t true.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

  Thistle pouted prettily. “Sorry, babe, but she does have a point.”