Thank you all for your comments and votes of the previous chapters; in all seriousness, they keep me going even when I find this parts of this story to be a complete slog!
For your viewing pleasure... a little extra shot of Rowan and Luke to get you through the week. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter and I do hope that you all find something to like in it too.
Enjoy... mochadesire
Chapter 4
Luke knew the minute that Tanji entered the kitchen something was wrong. He and Philippe had congregated in the huge, modern room as soon as they had left the medical centre, both anxious for a shot of caffeine. The kitchen was well-equipped: the weres that lived in the mansion needed food after all. But for the vampires of the house, the epicentre of the kitchen was the enormous, industrial coffee machine that was permanently kept full with aromatic Arabica beans. Even though they needed no food, both Philippe and Luke could not make it through each day without using the machine.
Both the men had looked up when Tanji slipped into the otherwise empty room. Luke sensed the woman's heartbeat: it was going fast. He growled quietly; something was not right.
"What's happened?" he rumbled. Tanji tried to look nonchalant and innocent, much to Luke's annoyance. "Tanji, I have known you for ten years. I do know when you aren't telling me something."
The doctor muttered, "Ten years too long if you ask me." Luke smirked and Philippe chuckled at the woman's discomfort. The two of them stayed quiet, sipping on their coffees whilst they waited for Tanji to come clean.
She squirmed as the quiet began to stretch on. She had expected Luke to try and get the truth out of her more aggressively; after all, they both knew that she wasn't telling him something. She mentally steeled herself.
"Rowan left," she whispered. Tanji flinched as the china espresso cup in Luke's hand shattered into a million pieces in his fist with a resounding crack. The tiny, razor shards tinkled onto the granite work surface where the two men were sat; the only sound in the dead silence of the room.
Luke was dumbstruck. He ignored the remnants of the cup that were digging into the skin of his palm as his mind whirled with Tanji's revelation. Suddenly he hurled the saucer in front of him at the wall, where it too, smashed into oblivion.
"Why can't that damned woman just stay put?!" he roared, not noticing that Tanji was trembling in fear. His incisors were fully extended and he could feel his beast rising from the depths of his mind. He could feel Philippe sending soothing messages along their metal link but all he was focused on was his green-eyed mate; the one who was getting away.
Hey asshole, Tanji looks ready to pass out in fright so quit the Nosferatu act will you?
Philippe's accented voice boomed in his mind, startling him out of his murderous reverie.
"I'm sorry Tanji," Luke said wearily as the red haze faded from before his eyes. He sat down heavily at the breakfast bar, thinking that he had been apologising an awful lot to his friend since Rowan had jumped head first into his life. "Why did she leave?" he muttered, his heart aching in his chest as the knowledge sank in.
Tanji came forward timidly to place a comforting hand on his arm as he stared hopelessly into the gleaming surface below him.
"She felt trapped Luke," she said softly, "She felt like she was entering a life she had had no choice in and that scared her."
Luke made an impatient noise. "But how the hell am I meant to protect her from Remy's piece-of-shit minions if I have no idea where she is?" he cried. Philippe looked at him sharply, concern etched into his features.
"Get a grip Luke," he said firmly, "You know as well as I that Rowan is no wilting wallflower. She can hold her own. All that remains is to see what you are going to do about getting her back." The Frenchman swirled his drink around in the vessel it was in, as if musing.
Luke almost felt foolish as a tidal wave of relief flooded through him. "You think this is all redeemable?" he asked, hating the way his deep voice sounded needy. Tanji smiled sadly.
"She may act like she hates you, but that woman is just as affected by you as you are by her," she said. "That is what scares her! She is afraid of the intensity of her feelings and how fast her life has become with you in it. She is so used to independency that she has become afraid of intimacy." The woman beamed triumphantly. "So you will just have to show her that you intend to stick around."
Luke looked thoroughly bewildered. For all his one thousand, five hundred years of ages he had never been in the situation where he had had to chase the woman. It was usually the other way around! Philippe, sensing his thoughts, smirked.
This is going to be a very steep learning curve for you Luke.
Luke shot the other vampire, who was perched on the window sill on the other side of the breakfast bar, a withering look. He knew that in this situation, Philippe too, would be hopeless. The Frenchman had been with more woman than any man he had known; a true womanizer. The vampire also had no idea how to chase a woman; for all that he was gifted in the bedroom, the man had never once had to work for his pleasures. Like Luke, he attracted woman like moths to a flame, each one of them chomping at the bit for a piece of his European, chiselled good looks.
