by Amos Cassidy
“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 t
hem, 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 the
se 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.
