Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (16 page)

18.

 COLD SPELL

Liza trudged up the three porch
steps leading to her front door and carefully placed her bulging shopping bags
on the ground breathing a sigh of relief. They were bloody heavy! She flexed
her fingers to get her circulation going and rubbed her hands where the plastic
had cut into her flesh, leaving angry red marks. A simple levitation spell
would have helped a bunch and she would have loved to see old Mrs Hubble’s face
when she saw three shopping bags float past her window. But it wasn’t worth the
council’s wrath.  There were rules surrounding the use of magic, rules, which
had been drummed into her head from an early age. Well, the age of thirteen to
be precise– when she had come into her powers. 

She had gone to her mother’s room
expecting the ‘special talk’ to be about boys and sex, things she had already
been educated about by the school’s reproduction classes. She had sat down on
the edge of the bed ready to make the appropriately shocked faces to appease
her mother, but had found upon her mother’s revelation that her shock did not
need to be feigned. 

“Liza, you’re a witch.” That had
been the opening line and the more she listened, images of Sabrina the Teenage
Witch tumbling through her head, the more her excitement had grown. She
discovered that she was actually a witch from a long line of witches– a born
witch. She learnt that there weren’t many families of pure blood witches left
in the world and that she had the privilege of belonging to one of them. She
learnt that there were other humans who called themselves witches and practiced
Wicca, and some even managed the odd spell, but they didn’t possess the natural
power, which coursed through her veins.

She grinned as this memory brought
with it the all too familiar warmth of safety and comfort– she loved who she
was and life was good. 

Shaking off her thoughts, she
glanced up at the sky– it looked like rain. She quickly delved into her handbag
and began the usual fumbling for her keys, sighing in exasperation when they
eluded her. The damn bag would give even Mary Poppins a run for her money.

A whole minute later and she was
finally clutching the keys to her kingdom.  She frowned reproachfully at them.
She could have sworn she had put them neatly in the side pocket sewn into the
bag. But once again they had escaped into the main pouch.  She was beginning to
suspect they had been enchanted.

“Felicity!” she cursed under her
breath, shaking her head. 

Felicity was her younger cousin and
her biggest rival when it came to magic.  This was precisely the kind of thing
she would do if only for the simple pleasure of bringing a little irritation
into Liza’s life.  She found her face breaking into a wicked grin. Oh, she was
going to have so much fun thinking up a payback for this one. Inserting the
key, she gave it the twist and shove it needed to force open the slightly stiff
door and finally retreated into her own personal haven.

Her haven, her home, was decorated
with simple comfort in mind.  Big squashy sofa’s in warm soft colours and
deeply piled carpets and fluffy rugs. Yep, it was a place to truly kick back
and relax in. No matter the weather, her home was always perfectly acclimatised
to her needs.  She made a beeline toward the functional yet cosy kitchen to put
away her shopping, her mind still on the question of a suitable retaliation on
her cousin Felicity. She could enchant Felicity’s knickers so they gave her
perpetual wedgies or she could make her snore like a hog…no that was too
obvious, the knickers were better. 

She was still trying to decide the
best course of action a few minutes later as she poured herself a huge glass of
wine. She padded past her study and contemplated popping in for about a second
before dismissing the idea.  She wasn’t in the mood to work tonight.  She
grinned to herself. That was another brill thing about being her– she could
choose her own timetable.  As a freelance writer, she had the luxury of picking
and choosing her own assignments. She had made quite a name for herself, which
meant that she was never short of work and the money was just right.  It was
better than working full time for Sparkle Corp, although working for her
family’s business hadn’t been a bad deal. She could have made partner by now
but it just hadn’t been for her.

Sparkle Corp specialised in finding
and retrieving magical artefacts and texts, which may have fallen into ignorant
or dangerous hands, sometimes employing other supernatural beings to do the legwork
on a contractual basis.  It was pretty mundane most of the time and on the odd
occasion, when there had been a hint of danger, her parents had specifically
prohibited her from taking on the case.  To the general population, Sparkle
Corp made and sold ornaments and decorations for special occasions and this was
the role Liza had been fronting…boring.  When she had finally left four years ago
at the age of twenty-four, Felicity had been only too eager to step into her
shoes, arguing that as the daughter of a council member she had the genetic
makeup required to succeed. Snooty bitch! Despite her cousin’s superior
attitude, Liza had been more than happy to hand them over. 

“Watch out, honey. They may be a
little big for you.” She had warned.

“Well you always were a bit of a
heffer,” Felicity had retorted cruelly– and it was highly untrue.

Liza was pleasantly curvy, sexy,
sensual…well that’s what Tom would say every time she decided to go on a diet.
“I love your curves.” He would purr, nibbling on her earlobe. “You’re gorgeous
just the way you are.”

Meeting Tom had made her life
complete and now they were engaged with the wedding fixed for next year. Life
was exceptionally great.

She curled up on the sofa and
flicked on the television. She glanced at the clock– just gone five. There was
plenty of time to mong in front of the telly before dinner. 

She woke with a start, her heart
hammering painfully in her chest, her pulse going wild.
Someone’s in the
house!
And then,
no there can’t be. Tom’s away and the house is warded,
no one can get in remember?
 

She sagged back against the sofa in
relief. Thank the Lord for modern technology and good old-fashioned magic. With
the burglar alarm and magical wards working in tandem, her fortress was
impenetrable.

Her pulse had settled back to
resting pace but the feeling of disquiet was still present. Something wasn’t
right. 

Above the silence in the house she
heard the distinct wail of the wind and the pitter-patter of the rain as it
hammered against the windows.  It sounded like a storm was coming, storms
always gave her nightmares. It was no wonder she was feeling spooked. 

Reaching out for the remote, she
flicked on the television, which had switched itself to standby while she
slept.  A little telly to drown out the storm would probably help diminish her
unease. The ten o’clock news had just started and the comforting serious tones
of the news readers did a little to push away the foreboding.  Damn Tom and his
business meetings! The house never felt this way when he was home.

Tom worked for an up and coming
marketing company and as a result was constantly working his bum off to cinch
deals and bring in more clients.  The next two weeks he would be working in Paris, then on to Madrid where he would be meeting with and presenting to two possible
major clients.  She knew he loved his job, she also knew he hated to leave her
so she never made a fuss about his work. She loved him enough to want him to be
happy.

Shrugging off the mantle of
apprehension, she slipped off the sofa, heading for the kitchen.  Her
unanticipated nap meant that she had missed dinner and her stomach, wanting to
emphasize its emptiness, let out an acidy growl. 

Pulling the fridge open she glared
at its contents.  Urgh, she hated cooking for one, a feeling that she had only
developed over the last year– since Tom had moved in.  Before Tom, or B.T as
she liked to think of it, she had been perfectly at ease with her own company,
had even cooked elaborate meals for herself.  It was amazing how a relationship
could change a person, how we could go from becoming an individual entity to a
dual one. 

Instant noodles, she decided. They
were nice and easy to make but tasty too. 

Slamming the fridge closed
decisively, she turned to the dried goods cupboard and stopped as she caught
movement from the corner of her eye. 

The kitchen door was double-glazed
glass, top and bottom, and as she peered closer, trying to ignore the reflected
kitchen lights on the glass, she made out a tiny grey form curled up on the
decking outside. She knelt down, tapping gently on the glass to get its
attention.  It jerked, its body snapping to attention, tail coming up in a
fight or flight gesture, its wide slanted silver eyes focusing on hers warily.

“It’s okay,” she said.  The poor
kitten was drenched. It had obviously come right up to the side of the house to
shelter from the wind and rain.  It looked up at her forlornly, now recognising
a possible ally. She smiled and reaching for the door she quickly unlocked it.
She stooped low intent on scooping up the kitten. But the tiny thing let out a
tinny screech and dashed away into the garden.

“Crap!” She hovered, considering
her options.  It had probably dashed under the hedge, in which case it should
be sheltered enough.
But it’s so tiny?
A little voice whispered in her
mind
, it could die of hyperthermia in this storm
.  “Crap!” she cursed
again. She really didn’t relish stepping outside but, if she was quick, then a
mad dash and a scoop was all she’s need to do.

“Hang on! I’m coming!” Her words
were instantly whipped away by the wind.

Quickly, she slipped on her boots
which she kept by the back door. And then, before she could have time to think
further, she hurtled into the rain. Stepping off the decking and onto the
grass, she froze as a feeling of menace hit her full force in the gut, the
emotional impact so great it felt almost physical.  She doubled over, her arm around
her waist.  Something was terribly wrong, something was…here. 

The wards would protect her... 

She glanced over her shoulder and
her blood ran cold as she realised that she had surpassed the wards– they only
extended as far as the decking. Forcing her body to move she turned back toward
the house, the kitten all but forgotten. Her only concern was to be back in the
safety of her home.  One step, two steps, the wind pushed into her as if it had
an intent all of its own. 

She felt it before she saw it, an
inky black nothingness swallowing her peripheral vision as it closed in on her
from behind and surrounded her. And then there was no wind and no rain. There
was nothing

19.

THE MORNING AFTER

Rose had set her alarm for 6am, ridiculously early for a Sunday, yes, but she was determined to squeeze the most out
of her last day as a regular human.  The first thing on the agenda was a long
bubble bath and she knew if she didn’t get in there first it’d be midday before she left the house. Her itinerary was choc a bloc.  Museums and shopping
during the day, a cinema trip in the evening with Thistle to watch the latest
blockbuster, followed by a meal at a restaurant Faye had recommended for its
delicious Italian cuisine. Yep, today was going to be her day.

Stealthily, she exited her room and
padded across the hallway in her Mickey Mouse slippers. Her clothes for after
her bath were slung over her shoulder. Turning the handle of the bathroom door
she pushed it open and slipped inside, turning to face the door as she did so
she could bolt it. With a satisfied sigh she turned to face the bath and
stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth falling open in shock.

Roman froze, his hand reaching for
the towel on the handrail as he stepped out of the shower.

“Oh!” Her hands went up to cover
her eyes. Thistle had not been exaggerating! She turned, fumbling for the lock
with one hand still covering her eyes. She barely registered the scuffle behind
her as Roman covered himself.

“If you wanted a sneak peek, all
you had to do was ask,” he drawled.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned
to face him– pretty sure his bits were no longer on display.  She meant to
apologise but his smug grin simply made her defensive.

“I wanted a long soak,” she
snapped, “what are you doing up so early anyway!”

Roman quirked an amused eyebrow. “I
couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged.

Typical! Of all the days he could
choose to become an insomniac it had to be this one.  She tried to ignore the
beads of water skating down his hard chest and sculpted abs and squashed her
desire to lick them. Instead, she firmly fixed her gaze on his face.

“Fine!” She turned back to the
door. “I’ll leave you to it.” She reached for the bolt then froze as the handle
turned of its own volition.

“Hello? Who’s in there?  I’m dying
for a wee!”

Shit.  Flo was outside the door!

Roman gently gripped her arm and
pulled her away from the door.  “Sorry, mum, just shampooing my hair!”

“Bleedin’ hell! Okay, luv. I’ll
just use the one down stairs, me bladder ain’t what it used to be,” she
muttered, before padding away.

Rose let out a sigh of relief.  She
didn’t want Flo getting the wrong idea.  “Thanks.” She reached for the bolt yet
again, unlocked the door and gripped the handle. Roman’s hand was suddenly
covering hers, his skin still slightly damp from his shower.  He moved in close
so that his bare chest was pressed against her back, his breath warm and moist
against her ear.  “What’s the rush, Rose? I didn’t peg you as a coward. You’ve
seen mine so it’s only fair that I get to see yours.”

Ignoring the erotic feel of him
pressed against her, and the way that her heart was hammering in her chest ten
to the dozen, Rose succeeded in finding and channelling her annoyance.  “You
may think you’re God’s gift to women but, believe me, you’re not even registering
on my hot-o-meter.” 

The next second she had been
whipped round so that her back was pressed up hard against the door, her pelvis
pressed intimately against the growing bulge behind Roman’s towel. She wiggled,
trying to get free but this just made the bulge bigger and her breathing
heavier.  She really wished she wasn’t finding the experience such a turn on. 
His arms were like twin vices.  Lifting her head to glare at him, she found the
words of rebuke dying on her lips.  His eyes were bright and soft as they gazed
down at her, his lips were slightly parted, his expression one of pure desire.

Oh. Shit.

She felt the muscles of her pelvis
contract in response. In that moment it was her body that was in the driving
seat, her libido that was calling the shots.  She licked her lips nervously and
his gaze immediately dropped to rest there.  He lowered his head, their breath
mingling and their hearts beating hard and fast in anticipation.

This was wrong, so wrong. Thistle
was her friend!

Reaching for the door handle, she
twisted and pushed, stumbling into the hallway.

Ignoring the disappointment in
Roman’s beautiful eyes, she turned and fled to the safety of her room before
she could change her mind.