A Midnight Rose Ch 02

Thank you all so much for your comments on 'A Midnight Rose Ch.1' it was lovely to hear from you all. Obviously there are things that haven't been explained yet, perhaps actions of characters that are not fully understood; don't panic! I will try to explain everything over the course of the story. Just remember, everything happens for a reason and that what seems obvious to you as a reader may be completely alien to a character.

This chapter has no sex in it at all; it's more of an explaining chapter. It helps build up the story line and characters so apologies if you are looking for anything a bit more steamy! Trust me; it's on its way.

Keep commenting and voting; you really cannot understand how great it is to see how your stuff is appreciated unless you submit stories of your own. If there is anything feedback, any scenarios perhaps that you want to see, contact me and I will see what I can do. Enjoy!

Until next time... mochadesire.

Chapter 2

Luke had waited for more than five minutes. He gritted his teeth as he sat in the plush seat of his midnight 485 Italia Ferrari. Still there was no Rowan. Doubt crossed his mind. Had he simply imagined her passion? He found it hard to believe that someone could simply fake her wantonness, her sexy moans under his touch.

Throwing the door open, he stalked towards the entrance of the club. He was angry now and fully intended to give his raven-haired beauty the retribution she deserved. He smirked as an image of her screaming exquisitely beneath him flashed before his eyes.

He crossed the now quiet club, almost surprised at the difference from when he left it to now. He halted suddenly as his eyes fell on Philippe who was lounging against the bar.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" he ground out. Philippe raised an eyebrow at his friend's rough voice.

"Alas, tonight was not a lucky night for me my dear friend." Luke smirked arrogantly. He sincerely doubted that. "Besides, I simply wished to meet that ravishing beauty who up until so recently had her gorgeous long legs wrapped around you." Philippe grinned to himself as the smirk was wiped off Luke's face and his features darkened visibly. Hell, he even thought he heard a murderous growl escape his lips. He raised another eyebrow.

Immediately Luke sobered. "Sorry Philippe," he sighed, "As much as I would love to introduce you to my delightful new acquaintance, it appears she has run out on me."

"Ah," was all Philippe said. He now understood what had his oldest friend on edge. Luke Phillips was not a man who liked not getting what he wanted. He quickly scanned the room in an effort to find the elusive woman who plagued Luke's thoughts when his light blue eyes rested on a knot of people on the other side of the bar.

Anxiety was clear on all of their faces. Frantic whispers floated their way and what Philippe heard, he did not like.

"

Excusez-moi

," he boomed. The group turned, startled by the loud, penetrating voice of the Frenchman. "I could not help but overhear your conversation," Luke smiled in spite of his growing sense of unease. Being a vampire, Philippe could probably hear a young couple having sex the other end of the street.

A brightly dressed young vamp skipped hesitantly towards them... and then paled as his recognised Luke.

"My lord," he said breathlessly, "My apologies, we did not know you were in the building." Luke brushed off his apologies; he was much more interested in what was worrying the young man and his co-workers. He gestured for the vampire to continue.

John sighed quietly. He knew that Lord Phillips and his friend were to be trusted but he wasn't sure if the worries of a small club were enough to merit his attention. Straightening, he looked the older vampire in the eye. "Our manager is missing," he explained, "She normally locks up after everyone has left but we can't seem to find her. It's unusual because Ro would never skip out on this; besides she is the only one with the keys."

Luke felt himself go cold. He was mildly aware of his incisors extending viciously, not even wincing as they tore slightly into his lips. He just stared.

At first his mind was blank; not even a whispered thought echoed. And then like a blow to the head with a sledgehammer, reality kicked in. She was missing!

Confusion registered amongst the fiery feeling of anger that raged through his veins. He should not feel so strongly about a woman he just met and yet... her cerulean eyes were burned onto his psyche.

Phillip leaned quietly against the bar watching his friend carefully. As soon as John had finished speaking Luke had just frozen. He was still stood, shock still, a thousand and one emotions registering in his eyes. Damn this boy has it bad, thought Philippe.

"My Lord, perhaps if it is not too much of an inconvenience, could you help us look for her?" John stuttered out, terrified of the murderous aura now emanating from Lord Phillips. His head whipped back and forth between the dead-still vampire and his friend who was watching him with careful amusement.

"Um... Sir?" John was stumped. His lord hadn't uttered a word since he had finished speaking a few moments ago. He gestured helplessly to Phillipe who flashed him a guarded smile.

"

Pas de problème

," Philippe answered smoothly, standing at once to attention. John immediately flashed him a grateful smile before retreating back towards his group who had begun to disperse throughout the building. He glanced back once at the gorgeous, blonde Frenchman and Lord Phillips. He shuddered. John hoped that if Rowan had been taken, the abductor knew what he was doing. He hoped for their sake they could run fast; the feral look in Luke's eyes did not appear forgiving.

***

Not so far away...

Darkness: swathes upon swathes of impenetrable black were all that she was aware of. Not a sound stirred. Not even a flicker of movement or a breath of fresh air.

Then the pain came. There were sharp stabs like explosions in the night; dull throbs like the hum of an engine; and blankets of agony that descended like needle laced silk. Her mind could concentrate on nothing else; for it was never ending.

Unable to raise her eyelids, unable to move her laden limbs, unable even to draw in more than a desperate snatch of air, she just lay there. She bathed in the pain. And she hoped for a miracle.

***

Philippe grasped Luke firmly by the shoulders. He scanned the man's face, hoping for some sign of recognition. It had been five minutes since his friend had stalked back into the club looking like a child that had been cheated out of a treat. Still the only things of Luke that moved were his eyeballs that flickered to all corners of the club imitating the spinning strobe lights that previously lit it.

Philippe sighed and flexed his arms briefly. What happened next was not one of his proudest moments but it was necessary.

The harsh crack of his palm connecting with Luke's cheek echoed through the quiet room. Eyebrows raised, heads turned swiftly in surprise but Philippe was only looking for one reaction.

Luke had suddenly begun growling ferociously; his fangs extended to their full potential and his eyes had a crimson sheen to them. There! There it was: that flash of recognition that Philippe needed. All at once the growling stopped, the fangs retracted and his eyes returned to their usual emerald.

"Did you seriously just slap me?" Luke rumbled in shock. Philippe gave him a strained chuckle.

"You could stand there pondering that question all day

mon ami

or you could shift your ass and help me and the others find that beautiful woman of yours. It would be a shame if she turned into vamp fodder."

Either Luke chose to ignore him or he simply hadn't heard. Already he was striding purposefully across the room, turning this way and that, eyes clamped shut and nostrils flaring. Philippe followed careful not to interrupt or contaminate any scent that Luke might latch onto. His friend had been on this earth for a very long time; if anyone could hunt down the missing girl, he could.

Luke was determined to sweep the entire place. He knew it to be unlikely that any of the staff of

La Rosa Negra

would find one specific scent among the hundreds that clung to every surface of the open space. Most were young; even the vampires seemed to be no older than 50. None would have the experience or power for this sort of job.

He found himself staring at the stretch of wall where earlier he had pinned Rowan down and ravished her lips without mercy. He felt a twinge of apprehension; how would she react to him in the cold light of day? Would the passion still be there or would his forwardness put him back to where he started?

He leaned his forehead against the frigid stone, his eyes still closed and breathed deeply, quelling any anxieties he felt. He was aware of Philippe standing close by, watching intently, but he ignored him. He just inhaled and searched.

Amongst the smell of damp and the sweat of many he found something. There! A wisp of vanilla mixed with the slight tang of rose. His muscles tightened painfully as he latched on to what he knew to be her.

"Philippe," he whispered, his eyes bright, "Vanilla and rose Philippe, by god's it's her."

"Oh good, I was beginning to think that your obvious affection for that strip of wall was going to become a problem," Philippe grinned insatiably.

"Could you not please?" Luke rubbed the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. The whisper of rose was so faint that he wasn't sure even he could follow it. The others had gathered; their searches and frenetic calls had been fruitless. They watched with guarded curiosity as the vampire cautiously picked his way away from the bar and towards the escape exit hidden in the shadows.

As Luke got closer and closer to the exit, rumbles in his chest turned into low growls that escalated into full blown snarls. Only Philippe proceeded with caution behind him, the others choosing to value their lives and stay well back.

The door was flung open. The moonlight highlighted the grubby alley behind the building. No one could hold back a gasp at what pooled on the tarmac. It was small, but chillingly recognisable: blood.

The snarls escalated again. This time, the sound was a full-blown roar.

***

Rowan couldn't remember the last time she felt this bad. The pain in her head had throbbed endlessly for what seemed like days. She was now vaguely aware of bonds around her ankles and wrists, from the chaffing that the rough rope provided every time she tried movement.

She groaned at her helplessness. How had it come to this? She mentally rifled through her memories of the evening; Carl, the pissed off demon, the were-cats congratulating her for something, Luke... that searing kiss. All at once she was assaulted by the unusual mix of feeling both hot under the collar and a sense of self-loathing. She barely knew the man and she had behaved like a common whore in his presence! She recalled what he had said about getting what he wanted and gritted her teeth. The man might resemble Adonis but she made herself a promise not to let her resolve crumble so easily.

Pain that lanced across her mind cut swiftly through her thoughts. She almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Here she was trussed up like a Christmas turkey, blood congealing around the wound to her head, in a strange place with her life in danger and she was thinking about her chances of getting laid! Laughter did well up then but it was short, barked and desperate.

She struggled to sit upright against what felt to be a mildewed, stone wall. The damp had seeped into her thin shirt whilst she had been unconscious and the chill was beginning to affect her. Shivering, Rowan managed to properly look around for the first time.

The warehouse was nothing special. Cavernous, excessively dirty, it was as inconspicuous as book in a library. Nothing about it screamed hints as to where she was; abandoned buildings such as this littered the city. Rowan let her head drop back against the wall in desperation, wincing as her actions merited another wave of agony.

Cramp was beginning to work its way up her calves when suddenly a door to her right smashed open. The sound was like a shot, echoing onto infinity in the massive warehouse.

She strained to see who had entered the building but found herself struggling to turn her head. Her neck still burned. She went limp again, silently seething. Steps resounded into the building's abyss. They were getting closer. Rowan could just about make out four distinct shadows in her peripheral vision.

They came into her line of sight, one by one. The first was obviously the leader, he chose to stride straight up to her and with a resounding crack, struck her across the face. Rowan gritted her teeth and steeled herself against the rolls of pain that again threatened to overcome her. The others, she noticed, stayed well back.

The leader knelt down to her level, determined to look his victim in the eye as he broke her. She saw the harsh jaw line, the crooked nose, the scarred cheeks and the oily, long hair before she stared straight into his eyes. He sneered, twisting his features even more as she recognised what burned in his eyes. It certainly wasn't mercy.

Rowan shuddered violently, almost convulsing as she matched gazes with this man. She could see no trace of humanity in his gaze; it was cruel and unforgiving. Summoning on all of her remaining strength, she strained her spine again, determined not to give this scum the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable. Then she spat directly into his left eye.

It was worth it to hear his curses; to hear the stream of abuse that was flung her way. She would have been smug but oh no, she was not even allowed that satisfaction. Grasping her head roughly, the now furious abductor smashed it back against the brickwork before striking her hard again across her cheeks.

"Why would you do that, bitch?" he snarled, his eyes taken on a slight sheen of crimson, incisors extending slightly. "I was perfectly ready t' allow you t' explain your actions with our Remy this evening, but it seems you do not wish to 'ave any liberties." He swiped a thumb almost tenderly across her cheek, smudging the line of blood that had begun to flow in earnest. He then grinned cruelly and spat back at her.

Rowan flinched harshly as the globule of spittle just missed her wide eyes. She tried not to react as it oozed down over her cheekbones, threatening to slide over her lips.

The truth had come out. She had known that her rendezvous with Remy and Carl earlier in the evening would come back to bite her in the butt. She tried desperately to cling on to her consciousness as her vision started to swim and blur before her.

She was aware of one of the silent perpetrators joining the leader and handing him something. Rowan tried to let her head roll back, shutting her eyes to block out the agonising ache that came from the base of her skull. She bit her lip to prevent from crying out as her jaw was grabbed roughly and her head was forced forward.

Upon opening her eyes she found herself not staring into the muddy brown ones of her abductor, but the chilling, lifeless ones of Remy. She fought the urge to scream and pressed herself desperately as far back as she could possibly go. The rough surface of the wall scratched at her skin as she recoiled in horror.

"This is your doing you know," the vampire exclaimed, laughing manically. "Poor, poor Remy didn't know what was coming when he crossed you now did he?" Her gaze flitted in disbelief between him and Remy's dismembered head. She glanced quickly at the stump of his neck, still dripping with blood and suppressed an urge to vomit. She tried to look away but the vampire wasn't having any of it. Grabbing her by the jaw again she was forced to look straight into the eyes of Remy.

"'E was like this when we found 'im," the slime ball whispered in her ear. "We should only treat you like your little friends treated him. T'is only fair," his tone was menacing as the others behind him advanced silently. As light hit each individual face, Rowan could only see anger and hatred reflected in their eyes.

For one of only a few times in her life, she felt truly afraid. No amount of training or smooth-talking could forestall what was coming. She had no doubt that these creatures would kill her. She also had no doubt they would enjoy it.

She began to tug frantically on her bonds but they would not give. She could only stare on in panic as the four vampire advanced on her, moonlight glinting off of their razor incisors. Refusing to scream, she squeezed her eyes shut.

***

The blows never came. One minute she was expecting a barrage of blinding agony and the next there was only silence. Rowan forced herself to open one eye. The sight that beheld her caused the other to spring open and her jaw to drop to the floor.

Luke and his friend stood in all their glory before her. The four attackers had stopped advancing and were staring uncertainly at each other. The leader stepped forward hesitantly.

"My lord, urm- well- what are you doing 'ere?" He squirmed as he talked, all bravado gone, not unable to avoid the murderous looks on both the vampires' faces. Luke looked at him in disgust. The creature had been about to rip the head off of a woman, and here he was sounding as if he had done nothing wrong. How could he dare to sound innocent after all the events of this night?

"Well my dear fledgling, you appear to have something that I would very much like back. Unfortunately for all of you, it appears that you weren't intending to return what was borrowed and hence...," he sighed dramatically as if delivering a soliloquy in a Shakespeare play, "it must be decided whether I am pissed off enough to end your miserable existences here on this earth."

Philippe snorted as Luke's initially cordial and eloquent speech took a turn for the ruthless. He was having enormous fun making the young vampires squirm for he was sure that they had all heard of what he and Luke were capable of. Upon hearing Luke's words, the one of the far left looked like he was ready to pass out with fright and the others looked ready to flee at a moments notice. Luke stood stoic and impassionate in front of them.

Philippe's glee immediately dissipated when he noticed the body slumped behind the four vampires. Blood ran in rivulets down the plains of its face, dripping seductively off the end of the nose and chin. He breathed in harshly; a wisp of vanilla. He whipped his head around to look at Luke. The strain on his face showed clearly that he too had recognised the person on the floor.

Luke was struggling to keep his composure. The blood that dripped from Rowan's wounds smelt so alluring, so seductive that he was hard pressed not to sprint to her side and taste it for himself. At the same time, the other side of him wanted urgently to scoop her body up in his arms and spirit her away to his private physician. She looked so helpless that he couldn't help himself.

Thankfully, his control won out. Unfortunately, his patience didn't. "Apologies gentlemen, but for your crimes against this human you know the punishment," he snarled. Philippe tensed almost imperceptibly beside him. The four men took this moment to scatter, the one to the far left breaking first. As he streaked towards the door, Philippe took after him. He was caught within seconds. Philippe admired the fledgling's final act in the face of adversity, not even wincing as the young vampires claws swiped at his skin. With a snap, his neck was broken and he collapsed to the floor. A quick scan of the room revealed to Philippe that the others had been dispatched just as quickly; though perhaps not as neatly.