Vigilante of Shadows (Scarlet Rain Series, Book 1): Scarlet Rain, #1

Vigilante Of Shadows

Miranda Stork

Published by Isara Press

Copyright © Miranda Stork 2013-2016

The right of Miranda Stork to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers; Isara Press.

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Dedications

I dedicate this book, as always, to my gorgeous Mark. Without you I would not be able to continue my writing, but more importantly, my life would not be half as amazing as it is. Every morning I wake up next to you is another wonderful day I get to spend with the most wonderful man in the world by my side. I love you more than I would love anyone else in this world, darling.

There is a phrase out there, that says something along the lines of, ‘You don’t choose your true family, you make your true family’. That phrase has so much meaning for me, as I know I’ve found not just friends, but sisters, through the lovely ladies of our little group. You know who you are. We might not be sisters through blood, but we’re sisters through writing and friendship, and I know that you and your families will be a big part of the rest of my life. I promise I’m not going to get weepy, but...I love you all. I raise a G&T to you all, and offer you a grope (Hiddles?) hug.

And finally there are all of my other friends who I have met through that unconventional meeting place; Facebook. You also know who you are. All of you cheer my day up whenever I turn my laptop on; you make me smile, laugh, and giggle-snort. My day of working is made that much more fun by all of you, and I love you for it.

The Scarlet Rain Series

Vigilante of Shadows (Book 1)

Keeper of Shadows (Book 2)

Creator of Shadows (Book 3)

Destroyer of Shadows (Book 4)

Chapter One

Demonic.

The word had so many meanings.

It made people think of terrible beings, capable of every travesty and atrocity known to man.

A being so terrible, they were called evil.

A being so hated, the very word made people shiver.

A word that also described himself.

Aodhan sighed heavily, locking his fingers around the brandy in front of him. He could feel the cold wind from the open bar door behind, even though he had the collar of his black, leather biker-style jacket pulled up. His cool green eyes swept around the bar, surveying all around him.

The bar was nearly empty, which wasn’t unusual for a Wednesday night, but it was still a little unnerving for him. Indie rock music sounded from the speakers placed around the room, loud enough to hear, but not loud enough to drown out the quiet murmurs and ripples around him. There was one barmaid working, leaning over to talk to some young blonde male, who was grinning like a little boy at Christmas back at her cleavage. Aodhan looked down at his drink again, at the bar made of highly-polished dark wood substitute.

Flitting his gaze up again, his eyes settled on a young twenty-something brunette that was seated by herself, sipping wine at the other end of the counter. Aodhan could remember a time when he would have perhaps tried it on with her, even talked to her, at least. But not now. Too much had separated him from the world. Women never held the same lust for him, not after...her.

The brunette looked up, and flashed hazel eyes at him, doing a double take appreciatively at his form. She smiled shyly, but continued staring at him. He cast her a cold look, and turned his gaze away from her, scrutinizing his drink again.

He heard the squeaking of a bar stool being slowly pushed across the tiles, and two distinct taps of heeled shoes being placed on the floor. A second later, the click-clack of the shoes slowly and deliberately walked towards him. He closed his eyes, and sighed again. Please don’t come over here...why did I even look at her?...

Hey there. You look a little bit lonely. Want some company?

Aodhan turned his head to see the brunette. Up close, her hazel eyes were even more vivid, the lashes above them thick and black with mascara. Aodhan couldn’t understand women’s obsession with make-up. He came from a time when the only ‘make-up’ ever worn by a woman would have been if she was going into battle...and that was rare enough. Nowadays women slapped their faces in every hue, in the hope of attracting someone long enough to create a child, bring it up after a hurried marriage, and live the rest of their lives in blissful boredom. Maybe I’m just getting cynical in my old age...he pondered to himself. To the brunette, he shook his head.

But she persisted. Aw, come on. A handsome man like you alone in here—it can’t be fair on you. A long red nail traced along the side of his hand, attached to a slim white finger.

Almost instinctively, Aodhan twitched his hand away. He turned to the young girl, and glared. Look, I said no, lass. Take a hint, will you? Turning back to his drink, he barely noticed the look of shock on her face. It was obvious this had never happened to her before.

Determined, she carried on regardless. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she breathed in his ear, Look, if you’re not after anything special with someone, I can go and wait around the back for you?

He moved his head around to look at her, disgusted. I’ve spent decades alone after my only love...my only true love...was taken away from me. She was my whole world, and I’ll never feel that again. And this cheap woman thinks she can entice me to lay with her just by the promise of a body that will feel unfamiliar and cold to me?

Narrowing his eyes, he snarled, I wouldn’t touch you if you offered me a fortune in gold. Now why don’t you go and find some easy bed-mate for the night, like a good wee slapper? He hadn’t meant it to sound so harsh, but he wanted to get the woman away from him.

The brunette pursed her lips, her face tautening at his comment. Clearing her throat, she grabbed her handbag off the bar, and hissed angrily, Well, you’ve probably got a tiny penis anyway. Only reason you’d turn someone like me down.

Hah...if only she knew...

Aodhan shrugged, and turned back to his drink, watching her flap off furiously to another easy target, who soon fawned over her.

Knocking his drink back, feeling the rich liquid burning his throat, Aodhan wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and slowly stood up from the vinyl bar stool. He waved his hand to get the attention of the barmaid, but she was far too engrossed in the attentions of her personal Adonis to notice Aodhan. Shrugging, he laid a ten-pound note down on the bar, next to his empty glass.

He twisted on his heel and walked out of the main doors with long strides, feeling the cool night air on his face. The bouncer outside turned and stared at Aodhan’s six foot frame, no emotion showing on his features. Aodhan returned the stony gaze, and then began walking off into the night.

He paced along speedily, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. The sounds of the night surrounded him—distant cat song, the steady hum of far-off cars, the soft sound of wind whistling underneath people’s windows. He loved being out at night, not because it was a time when his ‘kind’ were more active, but simply because it was so much quieter than the day. The sounds of people rushing around disappeared, and left a peaceful calm with the soothing darkness.

Of course, there were the voices in his head, but that was another story.

He shrugged his shoulders up, cutting off the wind whistling around his neck. He wasn’t particularly cold, but the noise was annoying when your ears were so sensitive that a pin dropping could sound like a two-ton weight.

Aodhan’s mind went back to the girl from the bar. He hadn’t meant to be so brisk with her, but it was really best that no-one got that close. He...didn’t do well with people any more. They always brought back memories of simpler times, of her. And besides that...he killed people. People who wouldn’t die if they hadn’t found out about them...

Aodhan was a demon.

A rare demon, as well, a shadow demon. He was born to a Scottish clan just over eight-hundred years ago, to humans. Contrary to what he saw people believed in the media and books, demons were actually born to humans. There was no line of them, like vampires or werewolves. They were simply...random.

When he was born, there were no noticeable signs of what he was. He just looked like any of the other babies born to them, strong and healthy, but definitely human.

As he grew older, he had shown great proficiency with all weapons, learning faster than any of the other boys in the clan. Even some of the boys older than him had a hard time keeping up. He was never big-headed about it though, simply trying to fit in with everyone else. However, the clan talked about how the strange-eyed boy was so much quicker and stronger than others twice his age, and whispered about ancient gods coming back to the earth. His looks weren’t too odd for his clan, everyone having black, brown, or auburn hair. But his eyes were odd. All others in his clan had mostly blue eyes, some of them had brown eyes. But his were startling clear green ones, more like a cat than a human.

When he was thirteen, he developed strange growths near his temples. After going to see the clan’s wise woman about it, she simply cackled, and whispered, Those who are given the gift of darkness, should not fear the unknown. He had shaken off the wise woman’s words, telling himself that she had finally gone crazy.

The growths developed further, until they were small dark horns, about the length of his thumb. They curled close to the curve of his head, smooth with small ridges forming at each stage of their growth. Luckily, Aodhan’s hair grew wild and long, allowing him to cover them up as much as he could.

By the time his twentieth year was reached, he was a well-loved member of his clan. He was kind and helpful to all, and helped to fight off their enemies more times than he could count on both hands. But he was holding a dreadful secret from his clan. Since his horns had grown, he had also noticed many other things.

He had begun to...see things. Shadows.

When he was out hunting in the forest near to their home, he would think that he had seen someone moving in the trees behind him. But when he swung around to face them...nothing. Then he would hear a soft chuckle, his name being called on the wind. At night, in his bed as he tried to sleep, he would see black figures running around the walls.

He tried to tell the wise woman of the village again, thinking them to be spirits sent to drive him mad, or something worse. She simply shook her head at him, and chuckled, rocking herself to and fro. He had got used to the shadows by now, drawing the blanket up over his head so that he couldn’t hear their taunting murmurs....

Aodhan stopped walking, snapping out of his daydream. He was sure he had seen one of...them. Looking all around, he scanned the buildings with his vivid eyes. The problem with them was that they could hide anywhere they chose—walls, buildings, floors, anywhere—especially at night.

The red brick buildings around him looked empty, the few alleyways just leading alongside the backs of houses, a small number of bins scattered about. No-one else was walking near him on the pavement, no sound anywhere.

Just as he was about to turn around and carry on walking, pulling his jacket up again, he heard something behind him. Something whispery and cold.

"Aodhan..."

Chapter Two

Aodhan clutched uselessly at his head, groaning. He knew it was useless, because the voice was not inside his head. It followed him, skimming across buildings and land. It had followed him since he was sixteen, and it still followed him today, like a memory too horrific to be forgotten.

"Aodhan..."

Leave me alone! he bellowed, turning around in circles, searching for any signs of them. Fear gripped his heart. Even after over eight-hundred years as a demon, the sound of that whispery, evil voice haunted him and turned his blood to ice. It was pure evil. Not like humans who were considered evil, but completely pure, devoid of true emotion. That voice felt no happiness, no sadness, not even anger. All it felt was pure maliciousness. It had no grasp of mercy or suffering, it was beyond sadistic. A need to harm others to amuse itself.

Growling low in his throat, Aodhan broke into a run. He really didn’t feel like having them around tonight. Sometimes he could lose the voice for a while if he disappeared fast enough. The only sound now the blood pumping in his ears, Aodhan sprinted along the night-time pavements, getting closer to his house. He slowed as he neared his Art Deco front door and caught his breath, sucking in the cool night air.

He couldn’t hear anything behind him, so he assumed that he had managed to lose it, at least for now. Brushing himself down, he silently walked up the few concrete steps to his front door. Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled out an old-looking set of keys, and pushed one of them in the lock. He rotated it with a rasping clicking noise. The door shuddered and then pushed inwards, creaking ominously.

Aodhan sighed, and stepped inside to his dark little hallway. As he clicked the 1930’s style light switch, the lights flickered, as if unsure about turning themselves on. A second later they lit up with a soft yellow glow. His walls were covered in fading torn wallpaper, depicting flowery scenes from decades long past. The floorboards were bare and dirty, the varnish peeling from them.

It only looked this way because...well, it wasn’t his house.

When he had come to this city a few years ago, he had no money—none that he wanted to use, anyway...attracting a certain group of people’s attention had not been something he had wanted to do—nowhere to stay, nothing. So he had spent quite a few nights out on the streets, living under bridges and archways, sleeping on a soaking bed of cardboard. Being both a demon and an ancient Scottish warrior, this didn’t bother him too much. But soon his hunger for food bothered him—he couldn’t live without that.

Aodhan refused to beg, instead choosing to steal, which he saw as less wrong. The odd apple or orange that fell off the local market stalls, a chocolate bar from a supermarket when he could manage it, even a tin of meat once. He had savoured that slowly, making it last for nearly a week.

After living this way for nearly two months, Aodhan was ready to give up. Lying on the pavement one night, shivering from the brisk winter wind that was blowing around his body, someone stopped in front of him. He braced himself, fearing he was about to get beaten up by some brain-dead yob who wouldn’t even care what happened afterwards.

But instead, he was surprised by the soft voice of a young woman.

How long have you been out here?

Aodhan looked up at her, his green eyes dull and glassy. Wondering if this was going to be some sort of trick, he gruffly answered, About’ two months.

There was a quiet gasp from the woman, who then crouched down, holding out her hand to Aodhan. He couldn’t see her face, as it was covered by a hood, the dark shadows of the alleyway keeping her face in blackness. Why not go with her? he reasoned. I’m the worst thing she’s ever going to see, whatever happens...

He stood up, towering over the small woman, his hair falling to his shoulders. He hadn’t had it cut for quite some time, and his beard had grown, leaving him with dark stubble. He thought he must have looked fairly intimidating, but she didn’t flinch. She simply beckoned for him to follow.

He didn’t, and when she noticed he was still stood in the same place, she sighed and put her hands on her hips. What are you doing? she asked, sounding amused. Don’t you want somewhere to go?

Aodhan frowned at her. Am I supposed to know what the hell she wants? I don’t why you want me to go with you, he answered, his voice sounding rough and harsh from his sore throat.

The woman laughed, a tinkling sound in the darkness. I want you to come with me. I’ll put you up for the night, and feed you.

Put me...up for the night?

Yes.

Aodhan shook his head. I still don’t understand, lass. Why would you want to do that?

The hooded creature looked down and then all the way back up again to his face, as though drinking him in. Walking back towards him, she murmured, Because you look like a handsome, strong young man, that’s why. She put her hand to his crotch, making him gasp in shock. "And because you feel like a big, strong young man."

It was then that Aodhan understood. She wanted to have him as a male prostitute for the night, and in return he would have shelter and food. His stomach groaned at the thought of food, but he shook his head firmly. No, I don’t...I will not do that sort of thing.

The woman shrugged. Fair enough. There are plenty more who would be happy to have your place tonight. She walked off, her hooded figure retreating into the night.

Aodhan was torn. One part of him, the part that was still the strong, youthful Aodhan told him he had done the right thing. But the other hungry, tired part of him told him to run after her.

Sighing, Aodhan settled down on the pavement again, his little scrap of cardboard and concrete feeling even colder and harder than before. Curling himself into a ball, he cried in frustration. He had only cried once before in his life, but he couldn’t hold it back any more. He wished he wasn’t here. Here in this city, here in this country, here in this time. He wanted to be human, so that he could have died happily with the rest of his clan.

The woman never came back, although a part of him wished that she would.

It was then that Aodhan realised he might actually have to do the one thing that really disgusted him, just so he could survive, at least for now. The thought of all his money sitting waiting for him in the bank taunted him, but he couldn’t risk it. If he drew anything, put a little dot of ‘I was here’ on anything in this modern age...they would find him. The ones who still looked for him after all this time.

The next few nights, he hung around street corners, watching out for any women going past. He didn’t really have a problem with approaching them, as it was a bad neighbourhood, and he knew they wouldn’t be too shocked.

He hated it. He would wait for them, stopping them if they walked past, asking for a night with food and shelter. When they began walking off, he would then explain what he would give in return. He was an attractive man, although a little rough-looking, and his natural charm soon meant it became a way of life for him. The next few months were lived out this way, selling his body for the basic necessities of life.

Every time he went with one of the women, he would ask for a little money from them, until he had enough to last him a few years rent somewhere and enough to live on for the foreseeable future. He had occasionally since had to dip into his bank funds, even if before he had been so careful. Aodhan never wanted to get to the state of feeling so hungry again. The ones hunting him down be damned.

After trying unsuccessfully to find a flat or bed and breakfast cheap enough for himself, he came across this house. It was completely empty, and probably should have been condemned long ago. He managed to clear it enough to make it liveable, and fitted locks on all the doors and windows to prevent other squatters breaking in and taking his home, such as it was. It meant he could stretch his small amount of money out as far as possible...but eventually he would have to give in and use the account.

And that was how he had ended up in a house he didn’t even own. The house itself was beautiful, a 1930’s Art Deco period house, still with all the original wallpapers and fixtures, even down to the crystal chandeliers that hung in the large dining room. Whoever had owned it before had clearly loved the house, and not wanted to change a thing.

Letting out a deep breath, Aodhan walked heavily through the hallway to his kitchen, leaving the light off. He could see well enough in the dark, he just liked having at least one light on, as it drove away would-be-squatters.

The kitchen was falling apart, cupboard doors hanging off, their brass handles rusting over. The tops were clean, but scratched with various names and marks. Some of the laminate covering was peeled away, revealing darkened chipboard. The floor was covered in black and white tiles, probably fitted in the 1950’s. The appliances looked as old as the house, humming loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood.

Aodhan strode over to the fridge, yanked it open and searched inside. He grabbed a steak of beef, and took a chunk straight out of it. He couldn’t remember when he had starting preferring raw meat to cooked, but all he knew now was that cooked meat simply tasted almost burnt to him. Hungrily, he chewed and swallowed the lump of meat, ripping another piece off.

He strode over to his small kitchen table and pulled out a chair. He leaned back against the slats of wood on the chair back. After he had polished the meat off, he licked his fingers, and relaxed into the chair. It wasn’t long before a warm, welcoming haziness drifted over him, sending him into soft darkness...

He was jolted awake with a loud knocking.

Shaking his head of the dizziness of sleep, Aodhan looked around wondering where the sound had come from. Just as he was thinking that he had imagined the noise, he heard it again. Someone was banging on his front door.

Cautiously, he rose from the chair, and walked slowly towards the hallway. Peering around into the empty passageway, he looked towards his front door.

There was a shape outlined in the glass of the front door, a shadowy silhouette. Aodhan didn’t think it was one of them, but he couldn’t be sure. Pressing himself against the wall, he slowly slid along it, edging his way to the door. As he got closer to see the shape through the glass, he saw that it was much taller and well-defined than one of the Shadows.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he went to open the door, unlocking his several chains and bolts.

It must have been a Customer.

Chapter Three

Opening the door, Aodhan found himself facing a middle-aged man, balding with thin grey hair. He looked haggard, large black bags under his eyes, weakly grasping a cloth cap in his rough looking hands. He was dressed in a long green tweed coat, and dark brown trousers.

Standing with his hand on the doorframe, Aodhan stared blankly at the man on his doorstep. Shifting his weight across, he spoke, his Scottish accent rumbling.

Can I ask what you’re doing on my front doorstep, old man?

The man trembled, and whispered, I...I was told to come here...by someone. They said...said say...shadow-man.

Aodhan nodded, not saying anything, and peered out of his door. He took a quick look to the right, and then the left, before pulling back inside and beckoning the man into the house silently. Nodding vigorously, the tired-looking man stepped inside, still wringing his hat nervously.

Once inside, Aodhan shut the door behind, locking it again with his various brass and chains. The nervous man looked around at the house, half in curiosity, and half in disgust. Noticing the look, Aodhan grinned, his face momentarily lighting up. Walking past the man into the dim kitchen, he said, Well, what did you expect me to live in?

Oh, er...well...I wasn’t...I mean... The man spluttered off, not sure of what to say. He followed Aodhan through into the kitchen, looking around at the dirty tops and hanging cupboards, but hid his expression this time when Aodhan swung around.

Well, who is it?

Surprised by Aodhan’s direct questioning, the man paused for a second before answering him in a quiet voice. It’s a man called Robert Goverly. See, my name is-

No, Aodhan retorted sharply, looking up at the man with burning eyes. You don’t need to tell me that. I don’t want to ken your name, it...makes it harder to do.

The man nodded, casting his eyes to the ground. A little sorry that he was so harsh with the man, he gently added, Why don’t you tell me why you need this doing?

A tear fell out of the man’s eye, dropping on the tiled floor with a wet splash. Without looking up, he spoke in a quiet, haunted voice. "Well, first, he raped my