Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) Read online

  Crimson Midnight

  Amos Cassidy

  Published by Amos Cassidy

  Text Copyright © 2014 Amos Cassidy

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Copyright © 2014 Amos Cassidy

  All rights reserved

  Published by

  Amos Cassidy.

  ALSO BY AMOS CASSIDY

  Crimson Darkness

  Crimson Dawn

  Aurora

  The Emporium

  Dreams and Shards

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks to all our friends and family for their moral support and patience while we wrote this novel. Thank you for listening to us procrastinate when a scene wasn’t panning out how we envisioned. And thanks to our partners, Adam and Alex, for putting up with the hours of neglect while we concentrated on writing.

  Dedicated to all the loved ones we have lost along the way.

  This is for you.

  You will always be in our hearts.

  Sign up for the author’s New Release mailing list and get your free copy of their latest novella, Raven’s Call.

  Click here to get started: AmosCassidy-free-download

  1.

  GOODBYE FOR NOW

  Rose stood in the bedroom doorway, shoulder propped against the doorframe, thumbs tucked into the pockets of her low-rise Levis. She cocked her head, watching Greg’s backside moving back and forth like an overactive piston.

  Had it always been that hairy?

  She cleared her throat. “I guess you’re busy,” she said, “maybe I should pop back later.”

  The piston halted and Greg practically threw himself off his bed partner as if she were an unwanted hot potato. “Fuck! Rose! Fuck!”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Rose said.

  “What are you…I mean, when did you-”

  “Get here?” she glanced casually at her wristwatch. “About five minutes ago.”

  She noticed him surreptitiously pull the bedspread up to cover his crotch. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I thought I’d surprise you.” She pushed herself off the doorframe sauntering into the room. “I guess I succeeded.”

  A petite five foot four, with the elfin doe-eyed features of a Manga sketch topped with long golden hair, Rose didn’t look like a threat. In fact, she was pretty certain that she would have been cast as the lead in any production of ‘Legally Blonde’ on looks alone, but the tussled brunette, frozen on the bed, saw something in Rose’s sapphire gaze that galvanised her into action. She shot off the bed making a grab for a pair of lacy red underwear on the floor.

  “Sit!” Rose said.

  The brunette froze, her fingers mere inches from the lacy garment that would cover her Brazilian-waxed bits. Yeah, Rose wished she’d missed that bit.

  Rose smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Please don’t leave on my account. This won’t take more than a minute.” She strode casually to the bedside cabinet on the brunette’s side of the bed, and felt her shrink away. Ignoring her she began to rummage inside.

  Greg pulled on his boxers. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting my stuff.” She pulled out a couple of paperbacks, her overnight cosmetics bag and her hardback copy of ‘The Kama Sutra’. It felt tacky and sticky. Rose cracked it open and frowned. “You got spunk stains on my book.” She threw the book onto the bed wiping her hands on her jeans. She shoved the rest of her stuff into her backpack, which lay on the floor by the bedside table. Swinging the pack onto her shoulder she headed for the door. She felt Greg behind her, his breath hot on the nape of her neck.

  “What, so that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?” He made a grab for her shoulder and she shrugged him off.

  “Threesomes are really not my thing,” she said and carried on down the hallway. She needed to get out of here quick before…

  “This is all your fault you know!”

  She paused, hand on the banister. Now this she had to hear. She turned to face him.

  He had his arms crossed across his broad chest, tanned and speckled with dark hair. She had loved lying on that chest. Her eyes travelled up to settle on his face. He wore his favourite expression– smug. “Enlighten me.”

  He shrugged, “If you’d put out more often this would never have happened. A man has needs you know, and you’re always busy-”

  And then he was on the floor clutching his nose. Rose blinked staring at her fist, feeling the anger, which had erupted so suddenly, dissipate. The roaring in her ears subsided and she heard Greg whimper.

  “Wha…Wha ya do tha fa?”

  Some questions don’t deserve a response.

  Rose turned on her heel and walked away.

  “You did what?” Faye asked. “I don’t believe it! Sorry, yes I bloody do!”

  “Yeah, well you know me.” Rose spoke into her hands-free, her eyes on the road ahead as she steered her VW Bug through the winding lane leading up to the small village where she lived on the outskirts of Derbyshire. “Never could miss the opportunity to kick some arse, and a cheating, lying, now ex-boyfriend is as good a target as any.” She hadn’t intended to lash out like she had, in fact she abhorred violence as a form of conflict resolution, but the anger she had felt had been too sudden and overwhelming.

  Faye’s tone was suddenly serious. “I’m glad you clocked him one but…it’s not like you to lose control, Rose. I mean I know you can handle yourself, I’ve seen you in action, but you’re always so in control.”

  “I guess even my control has its limits.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s cool.” Rose smiled genuinely for the first time since walking in on Greg with his bit on the side, because as she said the words she realised how true they actually were. Greg was an arsehole, a cheating dick, and she was better off finding out sooner rather than later. Her life was better without him and she knew that now with certainty. If she were honest, walking into his flat to which she had a key, to find him doing the horizontal hokey cokey with someone else besides her was like being handed a get out of jail free card.

  They had met at the youth centre where Rose taught self-defence classes and had been dating for six months. She had been thinking about ending it for a while now but it had just seemed easier to plod along. She had been wary of hurting him–– he’d seemed like such a nice guy. And now that she had had that assessment corrected she wanted to kick herself for not ending it sooner.

  “This is exactly why we try before we buy,” Faye said. She had an uncanny ability to suss out just what Rose was thinking.

  “What are you, psychic?”

  “A little maybe, on my mother’s side, but since she pissed off when I was a baby I can’t say for sure,” Faye said. Her tone was light but Rose knew that being abandoned by her mother was something that really bothered Faye. Despite her luxury lifestyle and daddy’s money, being daddy’s little girl
didn’t make up for being abandoned by the one person who was supposed to stick by you through thick and thin. Faye didn’t talk about it much and Rose respected that and didn’t ask.

  “I’m just like that bird off that TV series, you know the one. She owns the antiques shop. Oh! You can play my cool best friend.”

  Rose sighed. Faye was getting carried away again. “Firstly, that woman can see ghosts and you most certainly can’t do that. And secondly, doesn’t her best friend get killed?”

  “Oh…yeah…”

  “Thirdly, no one is going to be playing anyone. We’re stuck in real life, chick, the only paranormal action you’ll be getting is by renting Amityville Horror or raiding the library’s Urban Fantasy section. Life is about work and cheating boyfriends.”

  “Someone’s still in a foul mood,” said Faye. “I would have thought rearranging said boyfriend’s nose would have marginally cheered you up.”

  “This is me marginally cheered up!”

  Rose’s hands-free beeped, signalling that she had a call waiting. “Hang on, Faye, I got another call.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Why don’t you tell me, Miss Psychic?”

  “Don’t be mean.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “It’s probably the dickhead previously known as Greg, okay?”

  “Shit.”

  “Eloquently put. I’m going to take this call now, Faye. Hold on.” She switched calls.

  “Rose, baby, we need to talk. I’m fine, my nose is fine. Just come over so we can talk this through. I don’t know why I did it.” Greg’s smooth and sweet like chocolate tones filtered down the line to her less than receptive ears. One of the things that had seduced her had been the sound of his voice, a hot velvet caress.

  “Rose? Rose? Baby?”

  She could demand to know why or who or whatever women did at times like this. Maybe get a little indignant and make him beg. But to be honest, she couldn’t be arsed. “Fuck off, Greg.” She hung up. The call reverted back to Faye.

  “Oh my god! What did he say?”

  “Blah, blah, I’m a cheating tosser, blah, blah.”

  Faye giggled. “And you said?”

  “Fuck off!”

  “Oi, there’s no need to take it out on me!”

  Rose chuckled. “Not you, him.”

  “Oh, that’s all right then.”

  She was approaching her turnoff at the tiny junction ahead. “Faye, I gotta go, almost home.”

  “Wait! Pick you up in a couple of hours?”

  “Defo.”

  Rose was all packed and ready to go, and the funny thing was that her room looked pretty much the same as it had looked before she’d packed–– a testament to her minimalist style of living. The empty wardrobe was the only clue that she would no longer be occupying this space. She stood in the bedroom which had been hers for the last twenty one years and had gone through several transformations– from nursery, to preschool play den, to prepubescent cubby, to adolescent hideout and finally to an adult’s sanctuary. This has been her home inside her home, her place of reflection and refuge, somewhere she knew she would not be disturbed or harassed and now it was time to say goodbye, time to start anew and meet new people.

  She hoped these new people would be able to see her for who she was and not judge her by her physical appearance, which she knew could be quite deceptive. People automatically labelled her cute or flighty, but she knew that under the curvy body lay hard toned muscle. That behind the beautiful face lay…she raised her hand, pushing her hair away from her temple and fingering the one inch scar, a pale line on the side of her forehead, and a constant reminder of who she was.

  It had been a mugging six years ago– fists and feet and hard shoes which brought pain, the tinkle of breaking glass and the oblivion of unconsciousness. They’d never caught the kids that did it, and the fifteen-year-old Rose had lived the next few months in perpetual fear. Fear that they would come back for her, fear that this time she wouldn’t survive. College had started and she had refused to attend, locking herself in her room for hours upon end. It had been her father who had saved her by enrolling her in self-defence classes at the newly opened youth centre. She realised she didn’t need to hide. She could learn to fight back, to protect herself. Her new found determination changed everything. It was as if a door had opened inside her, a door where the old Rose walked in and the new, stronger, confident Rose walked out. When one thing fell into place, another gift fell into her lap.

  Faye.

  Starting college late had not only put Rose at a disadvantage with her studies but also with her friends. The group she had hung out with before no longer knew how to relate to her. It was as if her attack had tainted her in some way. Although they smiled and offered words of sympathy and encouragement, the smiles never quite reached their eyes. And then Faye had walked into her form room one morning, a girl starting even later than her, a girl who didn’t know the old Rose but was happy to get to know the new one.

  She knew it shouldn’t matter what others thought of her but deep down she couldn’t shake the belief that if she had looked different, less girly, less fragile, she wouldn’t have been a victim. Looking into her eyes now you could see the hidden steel that would give anyone with half a brain pause for thought. Rose was no longer someone to mess with.

  A tentative tap on her door brought Rose out of her reverie. “Come in, dad.” She turned and hefted her suitcase off her bed and onto the floor.

  The door opened a crack and Aaron Carmichael popped his head around it. “You all set?”

  She nodded, avoiding his eyes. Her dad frowned. They had argued the day before. Her dad didn’t understand why she needed to go so far to work, didn’t understand why this, what she had known all her life, wasn’t enough. She’d tried to explain, tried to make him understand that she needed more, that she felt that there was more and that if she remained she would suffocate. She loved her dad to bits and she was ashamed that in her anger she had said some pretty nasty things.

  “You all right, hun?” He pushed the door wide open and stood on the threshold.

  “How can you be so nice to me when I was such a bitch?” She was genuinely perplexed.

  “Ah.” He raised his dark brows, walked into the room and perched himself on the end of the bed. “Because, my sweetheart, I am a parent and I love you. And…and you were right. I was being selfish. I can’t expect you to stay in the nest forever. You have to find yourself and you can’t do that trapped here. I know that, I was just, well, I’m going to miss you and I’m scared, scared of what might happen.” The vulnerability in his voice made her breath catch in her throat.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me, dad, because I won’t let it. I can take care of myself. I’m all grown up now.”

  He sighed, “I know.”

  “And this job at the gym in London is a dream come true. I’m actually going to get paid to do what I love. Training others in defence techniques and also the physical training I’ll be giving others. The money’s good and Flo will take good care of me, you know she will.”

  Flo was her godmother and had been her mother’s best friend growing up. Flo was allowing Rose to live with her rent free in London. The woman was a diamond. Although Rose hadn’t seen her for a few years, they still chatted via e-mail and phone. And even though she would admit to a little attack of nerves about starting a new job in a big city, the thought of being able to go home to Flo every day gave her a warm, fuzzy and comfortable feeling.

  “You’re right about that, hun. You’ll need all the training you can get if you’re eating her cooking. If I remember correctly that woman knows how to cook.” He chuckled to himself. “You won’t have to endure my slightly crispy macaroni cheese anymore, or the slightly singed sausage casserole, or-”

  “Stop, dad, please. I love your cooking and I love you…so much. This isn’t about that, this is about me. I need to do this.”

  There was a moment of tense silence as Rose stared
at her father who in turn stared at the duvet cover. She could sense his pain, his turmoil. The emotions a mother would have felt at her one and only offspring leaving the nest. The emotions only her father could have because he had raised her single-handed. She didn’t need a psychology degree to understand what was going on here.

  “Dad?” She sat on the bed beside him and enveloped his slight frame in a fierce hug. “I’ll come and visit often. I promise.”

  “Yeah?” He looked at her sceptically, his eyes slightly red-rimmed from lack of sleep.

  “Defo and when I do, we’re getting a takeaway!”

  He smiled and glanced at his watch. “You better get moving if you’re going to be ready to leave on time.”

  “All ready.” She indicated her one suitcase.

  “Okay, I’ll take this downstairs.” He patted the case, and then looked at her quizzically. “Are you not taking your guitar?”

  Rose shook her head. “I couldn’t bear it if it got damaged. Besides, if I get the urge to play, I’ll just have to come home wont I?”

  The guitar had been a tenth birthday present from her dad, something she’d worked hard to master, and one of her most prized possessions. No, the guitar belonged here, something more to come home too.

  Her dad nodded slowly, his eyes soft as if looking into the past. He sighed before turning and heading toward the door. When Rose made no move to follow, he stopped, raising an enquiring eyebrow.

  “I have something I need to do first,” she said.

  Her father hesitated for a moment longer. “You sure?”

  She nodded and with a soft click, he closed the door behind him as he left.

  Rose didn’t do this often, it always proved too upsetting. But, she couldn’t leave until she had. She exited her room and turned left on the landing, heading for the end of the corridor, past her father’s room and the small bathroom he used. She came to a halt outside the heavy oak door at the end of the corridor. She grasped the handle and turned it quickly, pushing open the door before she could change her mind.