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

by Amos Cassidy

  “God, I’m sorry,” Brandon said, dabbing his eyes with a tissue. “I can’t help it. I just feel so…”

  “You have every right to feel hurt,” Ossian said. “If you want to cry then cry.”

  “It’s not like we were even together. Anyone would think I’d been dumped.”

  “Well, it’s no different really. He should have been honest with you from the start if fun was all it was going to be.” Ossian’s eyes were mesmerising in their intensity.

  “That’s the thing, he never made out it was anything. It just happened and we were happy. Nothing was discussed or anything like that. That’s why I feel so stupid. Maybe I should apologise for-”

  “What for? You do not have to apologise for what you feel in your heart.”

  Brandon was enveloped by an intoxicating aroma. It smelled sweeter than the cinnamon buns, more edible than the biggest and richest bar of chocolate. Everything suddenly felt better, like lying on a warm golden beach with blue sky and crystal waters. Tranquillity coursed through him, tickling his senses and his body demanded more. Just as the high feeling started making him feel a little dizzy, Ossian’s silken voice snapped him back from his mini-trance.

  “Would you like another cappuccino?”

  “DIE! DIE! DIE!”

  “What the bleedin ‘ell are you doing!” Flo barged into the sitting room and gasped at the tableau on the large television.

  Erin dropped his controller in shock.

  Flo reached for the TV remote and switched it off.

  “Aw, mum!” he whined. “I was winning!”

  “What game is that?” She ejected the disc and read the title. “Halo what? Hang on, I don’t remember buyin’ this.”

  “Jimmy lent it to me.” Erin bounced up and down on the sofa. “It’s wicked, mum. I get to wear this suit and I get to shoot people!”

  “You bleedin’ will not!” Flo pulled herself up to her full height. “Right, I’ll be havin’ that and I’ll be havin’ a word with Jimmy’s mum an’ all.”

  “Aw, mum!”

  “Don’t you aw, mum, me! Go get your bag packed before I change me mind.”

  Erin didn’t wait to be told twice, he rushed from the room to pack his overnight bag. He’d been begging his mum to let him sleep over at Tom’s for ages and she’d finally caved. He wasn’t going to risk her changing her mind.

  Rose inserted her key into the lock and the door swung inwards, causing her to stumble forward as she was still clutching the key.

  “Sorry, luv. Gotta dash. Be back in a bit.” Flo huffed as she hoisted a backpack onto her shoulders. Erin slipped around his mother and outside, heading for the taxi waiting on the street. “This bag is bleedin’ heavy!” she said as she plodded down the steps toward the car. “You’ll only be gone a night.”

  “I know, mum, but I had to take my iPod and my PS3 and some games. Oh, and my torch.”

  “Torch? Never mind, luv.” Flo turned back to Rose who was looking a little confused. “Just dropping Erin off for a sleepover,” she explained. “I’ve popped a casserole in the oven, should be back before it’s done but if it beeps turn it off will you, luv?”

  “Sure, no problem.” Rose waved her off.

  She couldn’t hide in her room forever, any minute now someone would come looking for her and then she’d just look like a coward. No, she had to get out there. Flo had already called her twice. Dinner was being served.

  She heard the thud of footsteps as they approached her room. Leaping over the bed she swung the door open, making out she had been on her way all along. Roman stepped back, eyeing her cautiously

  “I’m coming.” She winced at the sharpness of her tone.

  Roman turned on his heel and headed back the way he had come. Sighing, she followed him downstairs.

  All eyes turned on her as she entered. Flo smiled warmly, indicating that she should take a seat. She obliged. A plate of food was put in front of her and she wasted a few moments pushing the meat around her plate with her fork.

  This was ridiculous. These were the same men, nothing had really changed. So what if they were werewolves? Big fucking deal! She looked up, catching Raven’s eye who was regarding her with concern.

  “So have you sorted me out a mentor yet?” she asked. Raven’s face broke into a smile and the gathering seemed to physically relax.

  “Maxwell. You might have met him. He’s a barman at The Whisper.” Raven said.

  “The hunky one?”

  Raven chuckled. “The hunky warlock.”

  She grinned. “Great.”

  “I hope you don’t mind but I gave him your number. He’ll be in touch over the next couple of days.”

  “You can give my number to as many hunky warlocks as you like, trust me, I don’t mind,” she teased. “But what about registering and stuff?”

  “Maxwell will take you.”

  The table was silent once more, and then Harold spoke. “So you’re a supernatural…a warlock?”

  Rose shrugged. “So, you’re a werewolf?”

  He shot her a grin, which carried more warmth in it than he had ever shown her before. It seemed to say ‘you’re cool, you’re one of us.’ She found herself responding. She felt it then, that ripple or awareness, of something more that moved beneath his skin. She had felt it the first time they had met. Was it the wolf she was sensing? Another aspect to her abilities? Maybe his wolf was stronger than the others.

  Or maybe his humanity was thinner, the annoying little voice whispered.

  Whatever. She wasn’t going to let the warm feeling of acceptance slip. Her gaze fell across Roman and she suddenly felt terrible. She had treated him abysmally. He had been there when she had needed him and despite his obvious attraction to her he hadn’t tried it on. She couldn’t punish him for a two-way attraction that was out of their control. What she needed to do was try to get back to the sarcastic banter they used to share. She wasn’t really great at the Ice Queen Façade anyway– she was finding it kind of taxing. “How’s Thistle?” She directed the question to him.

  He paused, a forkful of lamb half way to his mouth. His eyes met hers, indicating that he had heard her question, and then he pointedly continued eating.

  There was a moment of awkward silence.

  “Roman, Rose asked you a question.” Raven said firmly.

  “She did?” He looked up innocently.

  “Yes, she did.”

  “I must have missed it. What did she say?”

  Raven’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She asked how Thistle was.”

  “Oh, she’s okay. She’ll be over later.” He continued eating.

  Rose hid her smile. Well, she guessed she deserved it. He obviously didn’t want to talk to her direct. Instead of being peeved she found herself rising to the challenge. She’d just have to force him to acknowledge her.

  Raven was studying them both over his pint of water and Rose had the feeling he had quickly picked up on what was going on. In fact, the others seemed to have too. She wondered if, as a pack, they had some kind of emotive connection. Could they feel Roman’s frostiness toward her?

  Only one way to find out.

  “Roman’s a little pissed off at me,” she said, cocking her head and staring directly at Roman across the table.

  Roman’s hand faltered as he cut up his meat, but he quickly regained his momentum.

  “Tell me,” she directed the table as a whole, “as a pack can you sense each other’s emotions? Is there some kind of link?”

  Damon was the first to reply. “I guess you could call it that. I mean, we can sense when one of us is unhappy or upset or in trouble, basic shades of emotion, nothing complex like reading minds.”

  “And we can communicate telepathically when we’re in wolf form,” Kris added.

  “And we can always sense each other, it can get a little claustrophobic sometimes but being alone is worse.” Harold finished, looking slightly uncomfortable.

  “So you can sense that Roman’s pisse
d off at me?” she asked.

  Roman pointedly continued with his meal.

  “Yeah!” Harold chuckled. “I don’t know what you did, ‘cos until last night he had a right boner for you!”

  Flo looked up shocked, her eyes flicking from Rose to Roman, noting the flush high on her son’s cheek and the lack of surprise on Rose’s.

  “Zip it!” Roman glared at Harold.

  Harold shrugged. “Sorry mate, but it’s true. We all felt it.”

  Kris coughed, shifting in his seat and avoiding Roman’s eye.

  Damon simply mouthed a “sorry”.

  Roman stood up, pushing his plate away. “I’ve had enough!” he stormed out of the room.

  “Roman, luv?” Flo called after him uncertainly.

  Rose sighed. That hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. “It’s all right, Flo. I think Roman and I need to talk. Thanks for the dinner and thanks for making me feel so at home.” She smiled warmly at the men sat at the table. “It’s good to know that I have some real friends in this new world I’m stepping into, and I apologise in advance for anything kooky or stupid I may do.” She bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. “And now I think it’s time to fix one of those stupid mistakes.”

  Excusing herself she left the room.

  She found him in the back garden sitting on the wooden bench on the decking.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  He didn’t respond.

  “I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I’m not sure why I did really. I guess I was just in shock or something.” She lied through her teeth, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on it. She couldn’t exactly tell him the truth could she? That she fancied him like mad and that being mean to him was the only way she could guarantee that she wouldn’t jump his bones, that resisting him was proving harder and harder.

  She took a step toward him, intending to sit down next to him but stepped back startled as he stood up abruptly.

  “Don’t bother, Rose.” His voice was thick and tight with emotion. “I know exactly what you think of me. The playboy slag that’s not good enough for you. You made that clear from the start. And you know what? I could handle that, but last night I was there for you. I…I can’t believe I…” He faltered as if unable to find the words.

  Her heart twisted painfully at his words, echoing his torment. She realised she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t hide behind the excuses. The Roman that had waited up for her, the Roman who had made her hot chocolate and listened to her worries was the real Roman, the one under the playboy façade. Roman had opened up to her, something precious, something special and she had inadvertently rejected him.

  His eyes glistened in the gloom, face flushed with emotion. “It’s fun to banter with the human playboy but add the going furry part and that’s a real turn off, right? I get it, it makes you uncomfortable-”

  Her lips were pressed against his before she could tell herself it was a bad idea. She swallowed his words with a kiss. His mouth was warm and tasted of cinnamon and sugar. She found herself wrapping her arms around him, burying her fingers in his soft hair as he pulled her tighter against him, until her breasts were squashed against his hard chest, groin to groin. She opened up for him and the kiss deepened, until she couldn’t think anymore.

  They finally broke apart, both flushed, eyes sparkling, breath ragged and uneven. They stared at each other long and hard, Roman’s hands cupping her face gently, almost reverently.

  “Oh, hello.”

  Shit! It was Thistle. Rose pulled away guiltily.

  Thistle’s eyes were wide as she stared at them both, she looked visibly shaken.

  “Thistle I-”

  “I’ll see you inside.” Thistle disappeared into the house.

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  Rose finally found Thistle waiting for her in her bedroom. She slipped in and quietly closed the door.

  Thistle was sitting on the edge of the bed and gnawing at her bottom lip. Rose paused, suddenly uncertain. She had never seen Thistle like this before. Thistle had made it abundantly clear that Roman was fair game but from her reaction downstairs she obviously hadn’t meant it. Or maybe she hadn’t expected Rose to act on it. Rose felt terrible. Kissing Roman hadn’t been part of the plan. She had intended to mend bridges, maybe get back to the comfortable banter of the last few weeks. No. Kissing him had definitely not been on the agenda.

  “Thistle, I’m so sorry. I…I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean…I mean I wasn’t intending…”

  Thistle was up in a flash and hurtling toward Rose.

  Shit, this is it, Rose thought. I’m vampire bait! And then she was enveloped in a tight hug.

  “I’m so sorry, so, so sorry.” Thistle whispered. “I should have warned you, I didn’t expect this.”

  Rose gently pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length. “Okay, now I’m confused. Why are you sorry?”

  Thistle sat back down heavily. “I know I said it was all right to go after Roman, and it is, we have a very open relationship. But I couldn’t explain why. Well, not until now, not until you knew what he was, but then I didn’t know you that well and now I do. I care about you and I can’t bear for you to get hurt.” She looked up at her appealingly.

  Rose rubbed her temples, she was so confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Fucking is good, it’s fine, and the lust thing is great with Roman, no strings attached. That works for him and it works for me because we can never actually be with each other, not properly.”

  “Why? Because you’re a vampire and he’s a werewolf?”

  “No, that in itself wouldn’t be an issue. You see, the thing is that werewolves bond for life…always with another werewolf.” She stared at her, waiting for her to process what she had just said, to grasp the implications, then continued. “So any relationship Roman has with anyone else will end, will have to end, once he meets his mate.”

  Rose froze, the heat of a few moments ago seeping out of her fingertips, leaving her cold and numb. This explained why he flitted from girl to girl, why he did the open relationship thing. She felt her heart go out to him, he couldn’t fall in love. For him it wasn’t permitted because somewhere out there his mate had already been chosen, and until he met her he had to remain…unloved. She sat down heavily next to Thistle.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he can fall in love if he wants to, it just…well, once he meets his mate, that love he felt for whomever he felt it for will pale in comparison to the pull of his mate. Wolves bond with their mates. They share an emotional and mental connection that no one else outside the bond could compete with. It’s why werewolves try to avoid serious relationships if possible. Roman is one of the good guys.”

  “What if he never meets her, his mate?” she asked quietly.

  “Oh, he will. Pack member always do, and it’s just the way the cosmos works. She’s out there somewhere.” Thistle turned on the bed to face Rose. “I saw the way he looked at you and the way you looked at him. That’s not lust that’s…”

  Rose was gripped by panic. “It was just a kiss!” she said firmly. “Just a kiss, nothing more…it doesn’t mean anything.” Then why does it hurt so much? Why does it feel like all the sunshine has been stolen?

  “I just don’t want either of you to get hurt.” Thistle took Rose’s hand gently in hers. “It’s up to you what you do from here, but as your friend I had to tell you the facts.”

  Rose nodded numbly.

  “I better join the others.” Thistle stood up, heading for the door. “I’ll tell them you’ll be down in a bit?” She turned to look at Rose, her brow furrowed in concern.

  “I’m fine, hun,” Rose assured her. “I’ll be down in a sec.”

  Thistle looked sceptical but didn’t push the issue. Instead, she quietly let herself out of the room leaving Rose to her thoughts.

  It didn’t matter, it was just a kiss. Then why did she feel like somebody had inflated a balloon inside her chest
? She squeezed her eyes shut. She liked Roman, she found him attractive, they had connected on some level but that was all. The kiss…the kiss had been…amazing. But it was just a kiss. She couldn’t go down that road. She couldn’t invest in something that she knew would be ripped away from her at any moment. But she couldn’t rub away the image of his face– the torment and then the awed joy after they had kissed. She couldn’t brush away the imprint of his hot fingers as they had cupped her face.

  She buried her head in her hands.

  27.

  REGISTRATION

  “Registering today?” Roman asked, as he sauntered into the kitchen and perched himself on the edge of the table.

  “Yeah.” Rose yawned into her coffee mug. Maxwell had called her the night before, insisting she call in sick so he could take her to register. She’d been suitably aghast. Call in sick! She hadn’t called in sick once in her life and didn’t plan on starting now. But he had, after five minutes, managed to persuade her how important it was to submit herself into the system.

  “Trust me,” he had said. “You do not want to be labelled as a rogue.”

  She’d reluctantly relented and had called in sick, putting on what she hoped was a suitably croaky voice.

  She took another sip of her steaming coffee and regarded Roman from beneath her lashes. Even slightly crumpled and mussed from sleep, he looked good enough to eat. She quickly crushed that train of thought. There was no going there with Roman. She had made that clear to him on Monday night after her little chat with Thistle. It was now Wednesday and they had managed a whole day and night without regressing.

  He caught her looking at him and smiled slowly. “Having second thoughts?”

  She jerked, nearly spilling her coffee, and then quickly composed herself, putting on her firmest, most sincere voice. “No.”

  He nodded deliberately. “Just as well I guess, because I don’t know if my willpower is strong enough for the both of us.” He sighed and slowly pushed himself off the table, heading for the kettle.