A Midnight Rose Ch. 06

Trying desperately not to giggle, as she so often did whenever she heard Mina snoring, Rowan headed off towards her bedroom. Closing the glossed white wood door behind her, she took in the familiar sight of her room.

A king-sized bed dominated the area. It looked plush, lived-in; the sheets still vaguely rumpled from when she had left in a hurry and not made up the bed properly. A mass of pillows covered the head of the bed; some plain, some patterned, some dark and others a vibrant mass of colour. Rowan could have cried in relief. She didn't care what anyone said; her bed was definitely her best friend.

Kicking off her shoes, she took a run up and leapt with surprising energy onto the inviting array of duvet and pillows. The bed groaned slightly under her weight before the mattress moulded itself to her curves and her head sank into the cushions.

In no time at all, her breathing deepened and her eye lids sank shut. The flat filled with a sleepy silence and all was still save for the gentle rise and fall of the chests of the two tired women.

And in the shadows, a dark figure watched and waited.

***

Luke was incredibly bored. Every other day of the week with the exception of the weekend, he held a council for his people to attend. With them they brought quarrels, squabbles, petty arguments and full out blood feuds. Today was one of those days and Luke was just not up for listening.

His conversation with Philippe had really put him on edge and to make matters worse, he had not seen Rowan all day. His nerves were completely frayed and that certainly didn't help his patience.

Before him stood two greasy haired weres, both of them of the lion clan he believed if their golden locks were anything to go by. They had been at each others throats since they had both stepped through the door and after a good twenty minutes of arguing, Luke was getting thoroughly pissed off.

From what he could understand the two men owned rival 'gentlemen's clubs', terms that Luke knew really meant strip clubs. It appeared that one of the dancers from one man's club had been 'stolen' by the other and was now making the latter a lot of money. Given that they were lion's Luke wasn't surprised that the two men were so angry; lions were notoriously protective of their women. Ironically, male were-lions were absolute pussies compared the women, who in their full battle glory were absolutely resplendent.

Luke had had enough. He slammed the table with a huge fist. Silence fell instantly; the two men even had the decency to look a little bashful.

"As I understand it," Luke spoke quietly and menacingly, an effective combination, "Your alpha has referred you to me as it appears the dancer involved is actually a vampire and so this matter is deemed important enough to be brought to my attention."

Remaining immobile behind his imposing oak wood desk Luke continued, speaking at the apprehensive men that were facing him. "Now you two have come before me with your childish squabbling, daring to think that I actually give a shit about the business feud between you two. Let me clarify right now; I don't." Luke was pleased to see that the weres looked sufficiently terrified. "Since the woman involved is not a member of your pack and is in fact a vampire I suggest, gentlemen, that you take her feelings into account." The vampire lord smiled quietly at the surprised look on the men's faces; they clearly hadn't thought of that.

"The woman in question is in attendance I believe?" He asked. The shorter of the two men nodded quickly. "Please fetch her in Philippe," Luke nodded to his friend who had been watching with an amused eye on the entire proceedings. A moment late the huge Frenchman appeared with a slender woman, dressed as one might expect a stripper to; big hair, big heels, short skirt and chest more out of the top than in it. She too, looked incredibly nervous.

Shuffling forward, she stopped just between the men. The tension in the room seemed to spike. "Now," Luke asked gently, so as not to scare the poor girl, "Are you happier with Mr Lenfeld here?" He gestured to the shorter man.

The girl didn't respond for a moment. Her eyes flickered, wide and staring, between Mr Lenfeld and the other man, who was simply known as Big Harry. Slowly, she nodded. Refusing to meet Big Harry's eyes she looked a Luke hopefully before whispering, "Please don't make me go back. He... he abused me." Luke's eyes narrowed instantly and his enhanced vision suddenly picked up a pattern of bruises up and down the girls limbs: some dark and fresh, others were paling to a sickly yellow with age.

He gritted his teeth tightly. At first he ignored the hulking were who now looked ready to pass out with a mixture of fear and anger. Smiling benignly at Lenfeld and his relieved looking waif of a girl he said graciously, "I believe this matter is now resolved. You may go." The pair made to leave but just before Lenfeld followed his dancer out Luke added, "And for god's sake, feed the girl a bit more, she needs a bit of meat on her bones."

The man almost stumbled over his feet with his bows of gratitude as he backed out of the room, mumbling his words of thanks.

Philippe closed the door softly behind them and turned back to face the frozen scene, his face serious and solemn.

Luke simply sat for a moment, quite content to glare this Big Harry into the ground. If there was anything that Luke despised in this world, it was a man that abused a woman. Long, long ago, the man he had called his father had done so to his sister and he had never forgotten the effect it had on her. It had destroyed his sister, almost to the point of death.

Big Harry was getting away with nothing.

"Mr Harry," Luke started, almost pleasantly, "Might I enquire as to why exactly one of your former performers claims that you abused her? A claim that I would say is not too far from the truth, if the bruises all up and down her arms and legs are anything to go by."

The man was shaking palpably. All his former bravado had long since fled. Luke could smell the perspiration that was covering his body and hear his frantic swallows as he tried to rain in his fear. Luke pushed his presence into the room, using an ancient elder vampire trick, the force of which was enough to make the lamps flicker. The office was filled with a menacing presence, almost as if it was possessed by an evil spirit.

"I'm so sorry my lord," the man stammered, "It will not happen again, I promise, I don't know what came over me when it happened. It's completely out of character I swear!"

Luke did not need a moment to think on the man's words, but he took it anyway. Silence, he had found, often had a profound effect on the guilty. The weres brow beaded with sweat and he desperately swallowed to wet his dry throat; Luke knew that he wasn't telling the truth.

He pretended to muse on the man's words, pretended to consider his side of the story. He even threw in a sympathetic nod as the man frantically blustered out a few more half hearted apologies and excuses.

Luke held up a hand for silence. The man's splutters ceased instantly.

"I think I have heard enough," he said quietly. "Philippe, please take this man to the Wardens." Luke heard Big Harry gasp and start to frantically protest. The Wardens were infamous for their torture techniques and their unique ability to turn even the most violent of creatures into docile beings. No one was quite sure how they did it but they sure as hell never wanted to find out.

Luke however, was not finished: "Confiscate his club and sell it to someone who can turn it into a bar or something more respectable and ask his performers whether they would like to be transferred to Mr Lenfeld's club. It seems that he knows how to treat his women. "

By now the club owner was screaming, fat, ugly tears rolling down his cheeks as he choked out his rage.

"Take him Philippe."

With that final sentence, the big vampire dragged the hysterical man from the room. The office instantly fell into deathly silence.

The minutes seem to drag on as Luke sat quietly, slumped in his chair, the effort of the day having drained him almost completely. Finally, his friend appeared silently beside him.

"Was that strictly necessary?" Philippe asked, speaking in the Italian tongue of Luke's youth, "I mean, I know what he did was wrong but the Wardens? Those things are vicious Luke."

"Don't undermine me Philippe. You know as well as I that if I had just confiscated his club and transferred his women to Lenfeld that Harry would have gone on an act of revenge and then we would have been back in exactly the same situation. Besides, you know my feelings towards men who abuse their women. I cannot and will not stand for it."

Philippe had the good sense not to push the matter. He could sense that the vampire before him was stressed beyond belief and dangerously close to reaching his feral state. Philippe knew that he didn't want to be the one to push him over the edge.

Suddenly the door slammed open.

"No more cases!" Luke roared instantly, not caring to wait to see who the unannounced visitor was.

The werewolf, who Philippe recognised from Ryan's pack, trembled in the doorway, anxious to not get any closer.

"My Lord?" he stammered, "My Lord I am so sorry to disturb you but I feel that I should inform you of something."

"What?" Luke growled. Philippe placed a warning hand on the man's shoulder but he simply shook it off.

"My Lady Rowan and Miss Mina have left my Lord," the young were stuttered, "I saw them leave just after your last case got underway..." His sentence trailed off as the vampire before him grew dark and terrifying in his seat. Then, with a roar fearsome and resounding enough to rattle the panes of glass in the windows, Luke lost it.

As the solid wood desk flew towards the air towards him, the young werewolf wondered, not for the first time, why he was always the bearer of bad news.

***

Rowan awoke with a start. Her room was dark. It was very quiet.

She was breathing hard. As she looked around every shadow seemed to contain some sort of nightmare, just waiting for a vulnerable moment during which it would pounce.

The fluttering of her gossamer curtains caused her heart to pound wildly. She could only imagine how she looked; her eyes most likely wild and terrified. Shaking her head, she forced herself to get a grip. This was her home; it was not a place to be scared in.

A dull crash however, caused her heart to pick up pace again. Flinging the sheets off of her, she slid from the bed to crouch gracefully on the floor. She moved towards the door opposite her; its frame looking looming and ominous. As she reached it, her hand paused on the curved metal handle. She couldn't just saunter out. Luke had taught her to be prepared for anything and to never be cocky in her abilities. It was a sure fire way to get killed.

Given that she didn't have a gun or a sword, her eyes slid around the room until they highlighted on the dresser just to her right. On the top, where she had left them in her rush to get to Luke's were her precious silver knuckledusters. The bolts that adorned they caught the moonlight as it streamed through her window and gleamed with all sorts of promises.

She snatched them up; smiling as she felt the cool silver coated steel rest perfectly across her knuckles. They winked back at her as if to say, back where we belong.

Now feeling slightly better, she opened the door slowly, trying not to let the creak of the wood betray her position. Another thump caused her heart to slam against her rib cage and she only just stopped herself from jumping six feet into the air.

Once again in control of her breathing, Rowan slunk forward, using all her skills to move quickly and quietly, keeping to the shadows.

There was a light on in the small kitchenette. Rowan moved towards it, silently, her green eyes scanning the apartment for any signs of break in. As she scanned the living area, her heart stopped.

Mina was nowhere to be seen. Rowan knew for a fact that the tiny were had gone to sleep on the sofa and the rumpled sheets and flung cushions corroborated that fact. She glanced in the direction of Mina's room. The door was open, wide and gaping. Mina never went to sleep with an open door.

Rowan bit back a colourful curse as she picked up her pace towards the tiny kitchen area. She could hear shuffling now, the odd low curse and a tiny cry of pain. Frowning, Rowan crouched against the wall just by the entrance to the space. She counted to three then slid up and spun around the corner... to collide forcefully with a soft shape.

Rowan didn't think. She used her thighs to tighten around the waist of the other dragging them to the ground until she straddled their chest. Even as she a ray of dim light highlighted the others features she had her fist drawn back, but there she stopped, panting hard.

"What the actual fuck are you doing?" Mina hissed in strained voice. Rowan had one hand pinning her neck to the floor.

Rowan shook her head in shock. "What am I doing?? What in hell are YOU doing? I almost hit you! Why are you sneaking around in the middle of the night?" she spat, surprise lacing each word as she carefully released her friend and helped her to her feet.

Mina huffed and straightened herself up. "I was hungry," she grumbled, not meeting Rowan's eye, "I was making myself something to eat."

Rowan glanced quickly at the glowing timer on the cooker. "You needed something to eat at four in the morning," she was incredulous. She knew that weres needed to eat more than humans but this was just ridiculous. Rowan knew that Mina was adamant on two things in her life: she was never out of bed before seven and she never cooked.

"But...your rules? I can't remember the last time you picked up a pan! In fact I'm pretty sure you can't tell the difference between a saucepan and a strainer!"

Mina shrugged and went to turn the light on. Both of the women squinted painfully as the harsh strip light blinked on. Rowan scanned the counters. All sorts of kitchen paraphernalia were scattered on the work surfaces. She shook her head in disbelief. "What the hell were you going to make?" she asked, laughing gently as she picked up an orange and a packet of pasta.

Mina shrugged again, her eyes too lighting up with mirth as she gestured hopelessly. "I don't know! I just wanted some spaghetti bolognese or something with meat in." She began to clear some items away.

Rowan blinked. Reaching for something just in front of her she held it up and raised an eyebrow. Mina turned at her friend's silence and smiled bashfully. "You needed an egg cup to make spaghetti?" Rowan asked in an amused tone.

Her friend laughed as she snatched it from her grasp. "Hey, you know me, I'm completely kitchen illiterate. I just couldn't sleep very well, got that bad feeling, so I was going to comfort eat. Damn I wish I could cook!" Rowan shook her head.

Then her head snapped up as she looked at Mina hard. "What do you mean you 'got that bad feeling'?" she asked. Mina's 'bad feelings' had got the out of- and into- many an awkward situation and she wasn't about to ignore this one.

"You know," Mina said casually, continuing to tidy, completely oblivious to Rowan's wide stare, "I woke up because I got that prickly feeling that I was being watched. Which is completely stupid because I checked the apartment; there's no one there."

Rowan tried incredibly hard not to get angry. She really did try. But it was useless and she soon felt that recognisable surge of darkness that emerged from the recesses of her mind with renewed vigour.

"Are you completely delusional?" Mina faced Rowan, surprise etched into her features at the voice that came from Rowan's mouth; deep, powerful and exotically accented, "Just because you cannot see something does not mean that it is not there!" Rowan was far gone now. She allowed the darkness to take hold. An aura that could have shattered the window panes swelled into the room and her eyes glowed with an ethereal crimson glow. "Danger follows those who are not cautious," she hissed, her words reverberating throughout the flat, "You cannot ignore the feelings you receive; they are a gift, one which allows you to better prepare yourself for the future that is mapped out for you."

Mina's mouth was hanging wide open. She blinked rapidly and yet could still not find it within her to form any words. Rowan, for her part, was almost pleased to find that her words had had some effect and that the darkness that swirled inside was not overwhelming her. Rather, it was coexisting and for once in her life since the day she had first felt a change, Rowan felt at peace. She was no longer afraid.

It was almost inevitable then that at that moment a low and sinister chuckle would sweep through the room, almost as if it was radiating from inside the walls.

"She is right you know, little were," a voice whispered in a voice that sent chills down your spine, "If I wanted you to see me, I would have let myself be seen..."

The shock of intrusion was enough for Rowan to regain control and she blinked quickly to clear her head. It was impossible to know where the voice was coming from, so ubiquitous was it.

Both of the women instantly dropped into defensive positions back to back against this invisible threat.

"Your heart is pounding," Mina whispered, reaching back to grasp Rowan's trembling fingers, "Don't be afraid."

Rowan shook, shaking not from fear but from the knowledge that she might never see Luke again. Until now, Luke had meant a lot to her but she had not admitted she loved him. They were mates yes, but to her that meant nothing until she let him into her heart; her human heart. But in this moment where her life could so easily end she found herself realising that she never wanted to lose the arrogant, secretive, passionate and loving man that had wandered into her life so carelessly. She knew in that moment that she loved him and that there was no way in the world that she wanted to let go of him.

"I love you Luke," she whispered.

Mina fought to hold back tears as she felt her friend's emotions roll off of her in waves. She felt the depth of Rowan's love for Luke and it took her breath away. It gave her friend something to fight for, something to die for.

Mina was shaking now too. The feeling in the room that had been growing since that first moment threatened to choke her it was so menacing.

Black smoke seeped from the very walls themselves, manifesting itself in a swirling ominous mass. In it, the women saw horror, they saw pain and they saw an inevitable end.

"Who are you?" Rowan choked as the images continued to swirl before her, instilling a deep despair that settled into her bones.

The low voice rumbled in chilling delight. "I have come to end your existence Allaine on behalf of those that I have served my entire life," it paused as if for effect, "Kyra and Myat send their fondest greetings."

Rowan felt a blow to the chest like someone had take a sledgehammer to her breastbone. She felt Mina tense behind her and answered the unasked question on her mind.

"Kyra and Myat are the Twins," her voice shook, "They are my children." Rowan shook her head. "I mean they are Allaine's children- not mine."

"You are one and the same Rowan Elena Mitchell," the presence growled, "Allaine is you and you are Allaine. For that, you shall die tonight."

With a roar, a figure leapt through the growing smoke. Hair and eyes as black as night were all Rowan had time to notice as it slashed violently across her face.

Pain exploded before her eyes, as she reeled back. A warm dampness arose instantly from deep gouges across her cheeks and precious blood flowed freely and quickly down her neck as she screamed in complete agony.