A Midnight Rose Ch. 02

Luke had held no fury back as his ripped the heads from the vampires' shoulders. Anyone who was watching him would have beheld no humanity in his eyes, any remorse or regret, just pure animalistic anger. They were knocked off one by one, just more unknown names to add to a list.

All at once the sound of shredding and snarling dissipated. Silence reigned. "Padre, perdona i miei peccati questo giorno," Luke whispered to himself as all his anger drained away, leaving only emptiness.

"Luke. I think the Father will understand of your actions today," Philippe stated clapping him on the shoulder. "The blood shed tonight was not started by us."

Luke nodded briskly. It still was not enough to make him stop feeling guilty.

***

Rowan was not aware of many things. She could feel the burning in her wrists and ankles; she could feel the stabs of pain in the back of her skull and she was aware of the silence. For the life of her she could not remember how it had become so quiet. She could remember being frightened, but not why. She could remember feeling pain, but not how. She was vaguely aware of someone trying to talk to her.

Shadows began to sharpen. Undistinguishable blobs of colour became defined features. Chocolate, wavy tendrils hung down over concerned green orbs that took on a tinge of amusement as she attempted to swat them away.

"Woman, you better lie still," he stated matter-of-factly, "You have stopped bleeding but we are still not sure of the true extent of the damage."

His sentence took a while to sink in. "Woman?" she whispered hoarsely. Luke stared blankly back at her. "If you ever call me 'woman' again, I will personally ensure you sport a black eye for at least a week," she managed to rasp out furiously before lapsing into pain-filled silence once more.

Low chuckles filled the room. Philippe was shaking silently with mirth in the corner, tears practically streaming down his face.

"You should see your face Lukey-boy," he exclaimed delightedly, as his friend's features changed from that of concern to pure, sudden indignation. Philippe truly loved this human.

Rowan stifled a smile, resisting the urge to laugh with the unknown, affable man lounging not far from the hospital bed she was lying on. "Where the hell am I anyway?" she asked, now able to achieve a full range of movement in her neck without substantial pain.

The room she was in was completely nondescript. The walls were unadorned and stark white. There was no furniture save for the hospital bed she was currently lying in, a few cabinets of sorts and the chair Philippe was currently lounging in. Bare, strip lights flooded the place, giving it a clinical, almost prison-like feel.

"You are in the medical centre at my house," Luke grumbled, still smarting from her earlier comment. "We thought it best to get you to the nearest place of medical assistance considering your... afflictions." He chose his words carefully, in an attempt not to rile himself up too much. The anger was too raw to ignore.

Rowan sat up suddenly, the full weight of his explanation registering in her mind. She looked wildly at the two men as if they had grown extra heads and in turn, they stared bemusedly back.

"You brought me to your house instead of a hospital?" She tried not to screech as she struggled to free herself from the restrictive blankets covering her. "What the fuck were you thinking? I don't know either of you!" A little panic welled up in her chest as she struggled off the gurney, fighting desperately against the swimming of her vision and her pounding headache. Both the men made noises of protest at her movements and Luke gently tried to coax her back to a horizontal position.

Begrudgingly, he was impressed. Rowan was a little fireball when she was angry, her black curls flying with a life of their own, the blue in her eyes turning to ice, imitating almost the complete reciprocal of her earlier passion. She had managed to extricate herself from his administrations and was now stood, chest heaving, against the back concrete wall of the room. Her gaze was accusing.

Luke held up his palms in surrender and back off slightly. He understood her frustration. But the Neanderthal in him was simply smug that he was being the protector; without his snap actions, she would have lost too much blood.

Philippe was still grinning inanely from his plush chair in the corner chanting softly in French "Hit him!" over and over under his breath.

Philippe, that isn't helping,Luke thought to him exasperatedly. Philippe shrugged nonchalantly, proclaiming his innocence in the matter.

Rowan cautiously watched the two men. The room had become painfully quiet as the silence stretched on between her and Luke. She avoided looking him in the eyes knowing her resolve hinged on the fact that she was resisting his charms.

The crash of the door slamming open made all three of them jump. Philippe looked sheepish as he uttered a cry of surprise and the chair he was leaning back in thudded resolutely back onto four legs.Serves you right,Luke projected smugly.

"Ah, my dear, you shouldn't be out of bed!" the doctor who bustled into the room exclaimed, "You need to give your body time to acclimatise to the trauma that it's been through." Rowan blinked slowly, staring blankly at the scrubs-clad woman before her. Her feminine presence helped relax her slightly; balancing out the overpowering testosterone that flooded the room. The female was very short, reminding Rowan of her best friend, and fussed and clucked like a mother hen would with her chicks. She shooed Philippe and Luke out of the room exclaiming how they were bad influences that should entertain themselves elsewhere. Philippe swept Rowan a fluid, flamboyant bow before striding purposefully away. Luke however, followed more slowly, turning only once at the door to fix Rowan with his gaze again. Whilst his stare was intense, she managed not to show her inner turmoil. She almost melted at the need she saw burning there like a bonfire but her head scolded her, reminding her of how he was in all sense and purposes, a stranger.

Succumbing to the fussing of the medic, she ignored the pangs in her chest as he strode out without another backwards glance.

***

The matronly doctor was a definite fusser. After introducing herself to Rowan as Tanji, a were-wolf originally born in South Africa but turned upon her move to the States, she made a great show of putting Rowan back into bed and flustered hugely over her now healing wounds.

"You're as tough as nails you are, my sweet," she clucked warmly, swabbing the gashes on Rowan's face. Rowan smiled wanly and distracted herself by marvelling at the contrast the dark woman's ebony skin made with the stark white of the room. She focused on this to blot out the stinging as the antiseptic Tanji used was dabbed onto her tender skin.

Her mind drifted and she found herself remembering Luke's face as he had left the room earlier. She tried to place the emotion she remembered being there amongst the anxiety. Was it...? No it couldn't be, she argued with herself. It was almost as though, she thought, he looked bereft. Her addled mind struggled to comprehend why a being as powerful and as beautiful as Luke Phillips would feel bereft at leaving her presence. She had tried so hard to view him as a horny man just wanting to get laid, as if it would justify her anger towards her own wanton behaviour earlier, but all his actions seem to contradict her.

Why would he bring her to his house? It seemed to defy her theory that she was just a sexual means to an end for him. No, she thought fiercely. She refused to repeat her initial moment of weakness and view him as someone who truly cared for her. She hoped now that she was more relaxed to his presence it would be easier for her to resist him. The tiny devil in her mind snorted its derision.

Rowan was thinking so intently that she missed Tanji's next question. The were-doctor was apparently satisfied that her reluctant patient was settled and not going to drop dead at any point and was now gazing expectantly at her.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" Rowan asked. Tanji tutted and smiled. She asked Rowan if there was anything she could ask Lord Phillips for to make her stay more comfortable. Rowan ground her teeth together; if it was her choice, she wouldn't even be 'staying' here at all. The observant Tanji, obviously aware of this, again smiled sympathetically.

"His lordship wouldn't have brought you here unless it was absolutely imperative. He did the right thing; you could have had internal bleeding and a human hospital would have been bound to ask awkward and nosy questions," she coaxed, seeing that Rowan was still unconvinced. "He may seem forward to you, but trust me, as his doctor and friend I can tell you his behaviour tonight has been somewhat out of character." Rowan mused upon this and nodded. Tanji, satisfied, made to leave the room.

"Wait," Rowan called, "Could you ask Luke- er- Lord Phillips if he could ring my friend?" she asked hesitantly. "She will be worried sick." And severely pissed off, she thought shrewdly.

Tanji nodded, taking the written number from Rowan and pocketing it. She beamed warmly as Rowan's eyelids began to droop and strategically slipped out, turning the light out as she went.

As the room plunged into darkness, Rowan closed her eyes and slipped gratefully out onto a sea of unconsciousness.

***

Philippe would not leave Luke alone. He followed him around the dark mansion like a lost puppy, a belligerent smile constantly on his face. Although the Frenchman never said a word, the look on his face spoke volumes.

The two men had settled into the library to wait for the doctor to come and impart her verdict. Luke had taken to pacing around the room, not quite able to just sit and wait. Philippe on the other hand, true to form, was sprawled in a very large wing-backed arm chair, his eyes following Luke as he tirelessly paced in front of the roaring fire.

Luke could hear all of Philippe's unspoken questions resounding in his mind but he refused to answer. He had thrown up his mental blocks as soon as he had left Rowan's room but he was fairly certain his friend could sense his inner turmoil. One thousand and one thoughts were steaming through his mind like freight trains and he couldn't make a head or tails of it all. The raven-haired girl lying in his medical wing had well and truly rattled him.

His head jerked up as the huge oak doors creaked open and Tanji slipped quietly into the room.

"JamboTanji," Philippe called lazily from his position by the fire place, raising his hand in greeting. The werewolf dipped her head in acknowledgement and quickly turned to fix Luke with a disapproving frown. Internally, he groaned. Tanji was renowned for her occasional acts of severe berating and he somehow got the feeling he was about to be on the end of one. As his trusted doctor, the caring South African was one of the few people he let speak to him as an equal. He hoped he would not come to regret that decision, he thought, as the woman huffed in a way that only an annoyed woman knows how.

"Medically, the girl is past all stages of danger. There is no internal bleeding and the blows to her head have caused no neurological damage," she stated tersely. "As a doctor, I am encouraged by the rate at which her wounds seem to be knitting together." She paused then for a moment and folded her arms across her body. Luke mentally braced himself.

Tanji sighed sadly as she felt all of the frustration that she had let build up from visiting Rowan drain away. She wanted so badly to be pissed off with Luke for messing with the girl's head but she could see as clear as day that her lord was similarly shaken. "What have you done Luka?" she whispered affectionately.

Luke suddenly felt incredibly drained. He had been expecting a barrage of abuse from the werewolf but hearing her sympathy just took all of his pent up energy out of him. The woman was gazing at him, the sadness in her eyes glinting in the light of the fire as she waited for him to explain. Philippe, who had been watching interestedly, took the moment's silence to straighten and clear his throat.

"I took the liberty of doing a little reading," he launched into it without waiting for the two others to acknowledge him. Luke looked a little taken aback and Tanji just shook her head of braids bemusedly.

"When the hell did you get a chance to do any reading?" Luke spluttered. It seemed to him that the evening had been non-stop and although it had been several hours since they had arrived back at the mansion, he did not recall Philippe slipping off at any point to, as he put it, 'do a little reading'.

Philippe smirked impassively. "Well, whilst you were burning a hole in the rug there with your insatiable pacing, I grabbed a few tomes and looked some things up. Your head was so far up in the clouds you wouldn't have even noticed if I stripped naked and started doing an Irish jig." Tanji snorted loudly, clutching her hips as she shook with laughter, whilst Luke shot him daggers. Philippe held up his hands in mock indignation as if to say 'what did I do?'

"As I was saying," he continued as Tanji managed to find some remnants of control, "I found some rather interesting things." He stopped talking as if he had finished all he had to say and flicked at the velvet upholstery of his chair as if in boredom. He looked up and met the expectant gazes of the two others. "What?" he said innocently.

Luke growled in exasperation and the doctor shook her head again, muttering all manner of curses in her native Swahili. "Careful, Tanji," Philippe berated humorously, "Since you were the one to teach me Swahili, I do know when you are calling me a 'pig-headed asshole'." Tanji stuck out her small tongue at him.

Luke had endured this exchange with infinite patience and as the room lapsed into silence again he put his question to Philippe. "What did you find out Phil?"

The Frenchman's face suddenly got serious, his ever-present smile faded. He almost looked worried to Luke, which freaked him out hugely. His friend could be faced with a pissed off troll and would still be whistling 'Dixie' cheerily.

Philippe fixed his friend with an intent stare. He spoke carefully. "Your rather odd behaviour reminded me somewhat of something I witnessed on my little stay with Ryan."

Ryan Renshaw was the area Alpha werewolf whose compound just bordered Luke's grounds. The two men had got on handsomely when they first met and now they used their respective powers to ensure a strong alliance between the were's and the vampires. It wasn't uncommon for members of Ryan's pack to be sent to live in Luke's mansion or vice versa when numbers were stretched thin or when either of the two groups were in any danger. Last year, Ryan had been having a lot of trouble from a neighbouring Alpha who had become greedy, autocratic and neglecting of his pack's needs. Luke had 'lent' Philippe as insurance to Ryan's cause and the Frenchman often raved about the experiences he had had as part of the Alpha's pack.

"You remember that while I was there Ryan found his mate in one of the females in the other pack," Philippe started again. Luke nodded. He remembered all too well how Ryan had been when he first met Sarah. He smiled as he recalled how uncertain and soppy the huge, strong werewolf had been and also how irritable the man had become when he couldn't see his mate. The whole process had been pretty messy and he was definitely relieved that that particular episode was behind them and Sarah was now happily settled in as alpha bitch of the Renshaw pack.

Philippe continued. "I remember as clear as day the emotions that Ryan went through when he first met Sarah. He acted rashly, he didn't think about anyone else but her and he was especially jealous and protective of her. The man was insatiable. Pain in the ass to be honest," Philippe sighed. Luke waited for him to get to his point. Beside him Tanji had become very still and pensive.

"What I wanted to say is that your behaviour tonight reminded me very much of Ryan's when he met Sarah. So I read up on were matings and also manage to find some stuff on vampire matings." Luke still wasn't sure where Philippe was going with this.

"Phil, you know that vampire matings are exceedingly rare right?" Philippe nodded in agreement.

"Yes I know. There is a one in a million chance of a vampire finding its true soul mate. That sort of thing is much more common amongst the weres." Tanji nodded comprehension clear in her dark eyes.

"I read up a bit on vamp history. The first mating was that of Queen Allaine's: the first vampire. She was a rarity. Created by Nephthys, the Egyptian goddess, out of jealousy of her sister Isis's power and popularity amongst the Egyptian people, Allaine was known originally as Asypha. It means 'pure one'. She was a creature that Nephthys intended to be the prime species; the one that would ultimately rule the human race and thus was given all the powers common to everyday vampires."

Luke could see that Tanji was enthralled by Philippe's story telling; she gazed at him avidly as his recount unfolded. "Allaine had also had many powers above and beyond that of vampires. As our blood has diluted over the ages, so have our skills. Did you know Tanji, that vampires consider Allaine to be the mother of the weres and shape shifters also?" Tanji murmured in interest. The story of the were origins was different depending on who told it and she was always anxious to learn something new.

"Anyway, back to the point. Allaine found her mate and in a situation that is unique to that of a mated vampire couple, she conceived children: firstly twins and then another child. Her third child, Senah, was mutated. He was born without blood lust and became the father of the were races and of the shape shifters." Tanji gasped in understanding. She knew of the name 'Senah'; his story was also told to young were children as that of their creator.

Philippe sat back as he continued, staring deep into the fire. "The twins that Allaine bore grew to be evil. They resented their mother, who instead of using her powers over the human race for authoritarian leadership, was well-loved by the humans. They believed in a separation of the species, fully believing that they were superior. So they killed Allaine's mate, their father, in retaliation to their mother's continued abhorrence to their plan for ultimate superiority. Allaine, suffice to say, was distraught. Losing a mate is the ultimate loss," Tanji nodded in agreement, tears causing her eyes to glisten softly in the light of the fire, "She grew tired of her constant struggle with the Twins and so decided that she would do the unthinkable: she separated her soul from her physical body so that it might wander this earth and be reincarnated in that of a like-minded, worthy being." Philippe finished dramatically, winking at Luke as Tanji sighed in wonder at the mystery of it all. Luke smiled wryly, still unsure of why Philippe was telling them all this.

"Anyway, I digress," the Frenchman pronounced, "What I was getting at is that the bond that Allaine and her mate felt is one only broken by death. It transcends time and it is definitely powerful. As you know it is incredibly rare, it has probably only happened a few times in all of our recorded history as a race. But, you know, there is always the possibility..." he trailed off, gesturing needlessly.

Something clicked in Luke's brain. He stared at Philippe who was gazing impassively back at him. The only sound for a few minutes was the fierce crackling of the fire in the hearth and the movement of air whistling through Tanji's teeth as she breathed in and out.