A Midnight Rose Ch. 06

I'm not going to waste time with excuses as to why this chapter has been so long coming but I will say that I am incredibly sorry that it has been so long. Thankfully I have now recovered my inspiration for this story and it's fair to say that it only heats up from now on in.

There are those of you that are going to hate me for this chapter but that is all I am going to say...

Caution- this chapter does contain violence. If you don't want to read it then you have been warned, just don't complain to me at the end.

Enjoy... mochadesire

Chapter 6

Faces. There were so many faces. They kept swirling, changing, shifting, and dissolving in and out of the midnight backdrop. Some, she recognised, but there were others that were unfamiliar to her. And yet, it seemed like she knew them all the same. One was a woman, cold yet fiery, with a calculating glint of intelligence burning bright in her dark, crimson eyes. The other was a man, beautiful and rugged with a startling resemblance to the woman before him. He too had a look that screamed danger.

As they swam in and out of view, she had the overwhelming feeling of sadness. It swept up suddenly and consumed her so that tears stung her cheeks, hot and wet. What was it about these two mysterious faces that caused her so much grief?

And then there was just darkness. No more images. Just sheer emptiness. And from the emptiness came the voice. In that moment she heard something, a whisper like the rattling of bones. It came on the edge of the dream, an afterthought if you will, as the remnants of the dream world faded out to the corners of reality: Allaine...

***

Rowan woke with a start. Sweat was dripping off of her, staining the delicate satin sheets and her hair was wild. Raising a shaking hand to wipe away the perspiration from her face, her fingertips brushed her cheeks. Pulling her hand away in shock, she was stunned to see tears glistening on the pads of her fingers. She had been crying?

Struggling to extract herself from the restricting bindings of the bed sheets, Rowan tried to remember her dream. It felt so imperative that she remember but why couldn't she? At last free, she stumbled towards the gleaming marble bathroom where, gasping deeply, she stopped in front of the huge gilded mirror that spanned the wall above the sinks. Sinks that she had once joked could double as bathtubs.

There was no joking now. With her chest still heaving, it took Rowan a while to take in her haggard appearance. Her hair was not so much artful curls but more a mess of knots and tangles. Her face was damp, angry red blotches appearing; a result of her subconscious tears. Her eyes were... For a moment she could only stare. How was that possible, she thought? She blinked, hoping that her eyes would go back to normal; but they didn't. And then she snapped. With a scream to wake the dead, Rowan flung herself away from the mirror, scrabbling to get as far away as she could from her reflection. But no matter how far she got, she could not escape the image of her bright green eyes... and the ring of blood red that now surrounded them.

***

Luke woke to screaming. At first, he believed it to be a dream, but as the fuzzy boundaries of sleep slipped into clear-cut reality, he realised his mistake. Coming to full consciousness with a hard jolt, Luke wildly did a full scan of the room. His vampire eyes took in the rumpled sheets and the tears that covered them. They took in the half open bathroom door and the slight cracks in the painted wood where the door had been crashed open just a little too forcefully. His ears picked up the irregular breathing of the now quiet person next door. And his brain screamed stop acting like a calculating vampire you idiot, Rowan is in trouble!

Finally able to shake away the remaining cobwebs of the dream world, Luke blurred into the bathroom in less than a second. Automatically searching for threats and finding none, he rushed to Rowan's side. She was lying in a ball on the cold, marble floor just in front of his overly large tub. Luke could see from a mile away that she was shaking.

Luke felt an icy feeling settle in the pit of his stomach as he reached out to his mate. It persisted as he gently rolled her over to see her hands covering her face, quiet sobs echoing from behind her makeshift mask. His heart broke to see her face stained with tears through her fingers. He fought back the urge to growl; it went against everything he held true to see her like this.

He had never felt more on edge or scared as he carefully and silently picked Rowan off of the floor, moving slowly and steadily to ensure he didn't jolt her. He set her on the smooth sheets of the four poster bed, before he stood back, utterly at loss, his heart feeling like it was being ripped to shreds in front of him. What could he do? For once in his long life he cursed that he had been given these supernatural powers; what good were they if he could not help her?

She still had her hands covering her face.

"Rowan..." he started, but then stopped. Somehow words didn't seem adequate enough. But his mangled attempt seemed to get through. She was silent now and her hands slowly left her face, not without a few tremors he noticed. But still she kept her face turned away.

"Don't look at me Luke," Rowan whispered. There was no hint of fear in her voice. Luke struggled to place it, but it almost was as if she was ashamed. The icy feeling still hadn't gone away.

Carefully, the vampire circled the bed until he came to stand in front of the raven haired woman before him. Kneeling on the plush carpet, he took one delicate hand in his own large, coarse ones and looked straight into her face.

"Show me your eyes Rowan," he murmured. His mate kept them steadfastly shut and mutely shook her head. Ice fire spread from his stomach, taking over every nerve as she continued to squirm away from his scrutiny.

Luke sighed and bent his head forward so that his forehead was touching Rowan's. He too shut his eyes and exhaled again, slowly. They sat like this for what seemed to Luke like a lifetime before he felt the moistness of lips brush sweetly against his brow. His eyes shot open and his head flew up to see Rowan gazing apprehensively back at him.

His first thought was that of relief. It flooded through him, growing in momentum until it poured out to his extremities. He still had no idea what had caused her such distress over the past, tense few minutes but he felt relief nonetheless. And then he looked closer. He looked deep into those expressive, emerald eyes that he had grown to adore and suddenly understood. Ringing her irises was an unmistakable circle of crimson that screamed vampire. It seemed to pulsate and almost swirl with a life of its own, fading out through browns and khakis until the tendrils became green again. He could not help but let his mouth hang open; this was way beyond what he knew.

Rowan maintained a tense silence as she let Luke stare deep into her new eyes. She knew however with certainty that there was no reproach in his eyes as they took in the ring of blood; all she saw was surprise. But she could see that there was also a hint of fear and that scared her more than any supernatural physical alterations.

"Please don't fear me Luke," she whispered, snapping her eyes shut again, "I can live with your anxiety and concern, even your anger, but your fear? I cannot survive that."

Luke felt a tugging in his chest as he watched Rowan retreat again back into herself. He was terrified of this new, unsure woman before him. So used was he to her exuberant confidence and tough nature that he couldn't fathom even beginning knowing how to deal with the insecurities that seemed to rise up around her now with increasing regularity.

"I could never fear you Rowan," he murmured back, trailing a line of feather kisses across one slender cheek bone. "I fear the thing inside you, yes, but only because I am terrified that it will destroy you, that it will destroy the beautiful, radiant, fearless woman that I have grown to know and adore." He stroked the pad of his thumb over her moist lower lip, battling with his temptation to throw her back on the bed and kiss all her anxieties away. He placed one kiss on each eyelid before sitting back again.

Rowan hesitantly opened her eyes again to see a beaming Luke kneeling before her. "You know personally, I think that the red suits you," he chuckled before gathering her in his arms and peppering her neck and face with kisses. She too snorted at his vain attempt to make light on the situation and thumped him playfully on the chest as she tried to escape his overzealous administrations.

"Aha! There she is," Luke cried as she freed herself from his grasp and leapt gracefully to the over side of the huge bed where she stood with an eyebrow cocked cheekily. "Finally, Rowan is back," he said with a huge smile before blurring to catch his raven beauty again.

To his surprise she seemed to sense his coming and had vaulted away from him with a wild shriek of mirth. Peals of laughter echoed around the room as she bounded to the great, oak door and grasped the gilded handle. She blew an arrogant kiss before disappearing without a backwards glance.

Luke threw back his head and laughed, shaking his chocolate curls as his mate slipped from the room. So that's how is going to be is it, he thought, moving slowly towards the ajar door. I do love cat and mouse, Luke smiled as he too swept from the room, leaving only rumpled sheets and only the memory of a scream.

***

Philippe was struggling to concentrate. The sentence before him had begun swimming before his eyes not five minutes before and he was pretty certain he had read it ten times. And still, it had not gone in.

All he could see in his mind was that pixie blonde hair cut, smooth planes and high cheek bones, and that tiny body curled up delicately in an oversized chair. With a loud bang he snapped the book shut. Dear god, what was wrong with him?

"I just love that I can now make fun of you for being a soppy idiot as much as you have made fun of me over and over again in my head over the past week," the amusement laden drawl came from over Philippe's shoulder and he needed less than a nanosecond to figure out who it was.

"Bonjour to you too Lukey-boy," the Frenchman said dryly, returning to his discarded book before him on the art-deco table. He opened its dusty covers to his marked page and pretended to study its contents with deep concentration.

"You can give that up now, you and I both know that you aren't really reading that book. Tell me, how many times have you read that sentence now?"

Luke had crossed the room and was now lounging lazily on the mahogany leather sofa opposite him. Philippe was surprised but pleased to see that the vampire seemed relaxed and happy. The uncharacteristic dark circles under his eyes had also magically disappeared.

Philippe closed the book again, this time setting its aged binding down on the table with more respect. Luke simply carried on smiling.

"Speaking of being a soppy idiot, where is your delightful, ravishing beauty? I am surprised she's not already here; after all, you two are virtually joined at the hip," Philippe quipped in return. He did so love to wind Luke up and the older vampire just made it so easy.

True to form, Luke's features darkened slightly before he let loose a roaring laugh that boomed throughout the semi-lit library, shaking the centuries-old oak shelves as if they were made of paper.

Wiping away mock tears from his eyes, Luke eventually calmed himself enough to speak, "I should have known better than to tease the already rattled. Dear lord, you have it so bad and you don't even know it yet."

Philippe growled inwardly. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'not in the mood'?" he said bitingly, wringing his hands in complete exasperation.

Luke instantly sobered. He sat up smoothly and gave Philippe his full, undivided attention. The wretched look on the handsome, blonde man's face was enough to shut him up.

If there was one thing that was a constant in Luke's life, it was Philippe's unfailing ability to find something optimistic in every situation. His smile, although fantastically infuriating and vastly inappropriate at times, was something he had grown accustomed to seeing almost 24/7 so he knew that this time, something was really badly wrong.

"How bad Philippe?" he asked quietly.

The Frenchman snorted loudly before rubbing his face tiredly. "Do you remember Italy? The opera singer?" Luke's eyes widened.

"Yeah, I remember Italy. Boy did you mope over that girl. It took me forever to get you to see that she wasn't the real deal and there were better things out there for you." Luke paused for a second, "What are you trying to say Phil?"

Philippe was silent for a minute, his piercing blue eyes staring out into space as if deep in thought. Luke frowned and leaned forward to try and prompt an answer from him when his friend suddenly came to life again.

"This time, it is the real deal Luke," he sighed, "I can feel it. Don't even bother trying to convince me otherwise unless you plan on bugging me for the rest of eternity." He threw a wan smile in Luke's direction.

Exhaling loudly, his friend flopped back against the upholstery with a resounding creak. "Fuck," was all he could say. But whilst some parts of him mind struggled to comprehend how the self-confessed eternal bachelor had suddenly been brought to his knees (by a were no less) in his heart, Luke knew it to be true and a long time coming too.

"So it looks like our days of chasing women are over my friend," Philippe smiled ruefully, but Luke could see the mischievous glint in his eye.

"Ha! You have never chased a woman in all of your life! More like 'the age of serial womanizer, Philippe Raoul Môntreve, has come to an end under the watchful eye of one Mina Sunshine." Luke was grinning like a five year old with an ice lolly.

"You are thoroughly enjoying this aren't you?" Philippe had to admit that despite his friend's new found teasing nature, he was enjoying seeing the older vampire at ease. For too long his head had been wrapped up in matters of work.

"Speaking of women, where is yours? Seriously this time," the Frenchman said with a wide grin. His smile widened further at the look on Luke's face: it was positively predatorial.

"She seems to believe that she can win a game of hide and seek with me," Luke said lazily, his tone belying the heated look that Philippe saw in his eyes. "Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to quite grasp that I can recognise her scent even in a sewer. As such, I'm giving her a head start," Luke's eyes darkened slightly, imagining what he would do when he finally caught his errant mate. She was in for a world of trouble.

"Earth to Lukey-boy?" Philippe waved his large, calloused hands in front of the vampire's face which had become somewhat distant. "Mon dieu, anyone would believe that you think about fucking more than I do! And that's saying something..." Luke snorted at the innocent look his friend was trying to pull. As the most renowned lothario in the entire region, Philippe probably had sex on the mind more than any other creature; human or otherwise.

"Back to work s'il vous plait," Philippe said briskly, his tone entirely business-like. Luke smirked at the display of maturity and organisation that was entirely out of character for the Frenchman. He made a great show of rustling papers and flicking pages before fixing Luke with an intent gaze.

"I found something," he said simply.

Luke instantly was alert. "Well I say I found something," Philippe continued, "It was more like an epiphany. A vision, if you like a complete comprehension-"

"Philippe," Luke barked, "Get on with it." The other vampire grinned, showing his glistening white teeth.

"You will remember, of course, that I told you the story of Allaine, the Mother of the Vampire, Were and Shapeshifter race," Luke nodded quickly; he recalled how the story had enabled him to understand his attraction to Rowan. "Well I mentioned briefly that her spirit was lost on the winds, to be reincarnated in another like-minded, worthy vessel. But, obviously you were too busy trying to wrap your mind around gaining a mate to remember that."

Luke shot Philippe a withering glare which the other vampire promptly ignored before continuing with his explanation.

"The historians amongst our race, those of us who actually recall the long lost tales of Allaine, always believed that the ancient queen would be reincarnated in one of our own, but I got to thinking: why not one of the other races?" Philippe paused pensively, waiting for Luke's mind to take in what he had said.

"I found something in one of these books; a passage about old queenie." Luke's mouth quirked. Only Philippe could get away with referring to the strongest, greatest vampire in all of history by 'old queenie'.

"She of raven beauty and honey complexion was of complete contradiction," Philippe read aloud from the dusty book before him, each exhalation causing little particles to swirl up from the aged pages. "Strong as the mountains of the north yet as vulnerable as a lily; passionate as a raging fire but tranquil like the crystal waters of the Nile; wise beyond all years and yet as naïve as a newborn, she was life, she was death and she was magnificent."

Reverently, he closed the book from which he had read and set it quietly back on the table before meeting Luke's dark eyes. He read confusion on the other man's features and thought, not for the first time in his life, that Luke was painfully slow on the uptake for someone so intelligent.

"Remind you of anyone?" Philippe quipped cheerfully. He was enjoying making his friend guess, knowing that ignorance was the one thing Luke despised.

Luke's features were blank for a second. Then it was as if a cartoon light-bulb had flickered on above his short wavy tresses. Voila, Philippe thought.

"You cannot be serious!" Luke blustered. It had been twice now in a very short period of time that Philippe had dropped a bombshell like this on him and he was getting thoroughly fed up of it. "There is no way on this Earth that Rowan, a human I might add, can be --"

"No way I can be what?"

Philippe felt like it was Christmas come early. He knew that Luke loathed awkward situations and avoided them like the plague and so to see him caught smack bang in the middle of one with his new missus was almost more than he could bear.

"I thought you could recognise her scent in a sewer," he murmured mockingly with a bright smile. The look he received was positively murderous. I swear if you so much as utter another word... Luke's words rang out clear and ominous in his mind.

But Philippe simply smiled away, choosing to relax into the plus upholstery of the sofa to watch the scene unfold.

"No way can I be what Luke?" the new-arrival repeated. Rowan had entered so silently that even Philippe hadn't noticed her presence until she had spoken. Both the men had been so engrossed that they had let their guards down.

She moved with cat-grace towards the collection of sofas that surrounded the low, book-strewn glass table between the two vampires. Philippe greeted her with a wide grin and quickly scooted over to allow her some room to sit; however his amicability was ignored by the woman before him. She was too busy boring holes in the side of her mate's head with her intense stare.

Luke hadn't dared to look up. Internally, his mind raged at him for being as stupid as not knowing when she had entered the room; it was a rookie error. But then he was finding that everything about his passionate mate was making him revert back to the actions of his younger days.