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

by Amos Cassidy

  Raven gave Rose an enquiring look.

  Rose shrugged. “They met earlier this week. I guess it’s a thing now.”

  A flash of concern flitted across Raven’s face but then he nodded seemingly unconcerned. “I must go and say hello to a few more people,” he excused himself. “I’ll talk to you again later. Enjoy the evening.” He walked away to greet three women and a man over by the entrance.

  Faye finished her text just in time to watch Raven leave. “Shame he’s gay, he’s hot.”

  “Times like these you wish you were a gay man too, eh?” Rose wiggled her eyebrows.

  Faye giggled, her eyes on Raven as he chatted to the new arrivals. “Just to have a little taste of that.”

  “There’s always the barman. He’s kinda cute.”

  Faye’s phone bleeped. “Its Harold, he said he’s almost here.” She grinned widely.

  “Cool.” Rose bit back a sigh. There wasn’t much she could do about them seeing each other, but she’d be the first to break his balls if he messed her friend around.

  Faye’s phone went off again, and she read the text aloud. “Guess where I am.” She giggled and got off the stool to look around.

  Prick, Rose said to herself. Damn, she really needed to get over her visceral dislike for the bloke. And then she spotted Faye’s housemate standing alone over by the DJ booth. “That bloke Ossian’s here.” She nodded in his direction.

  Faye gasped in mock horror. “He actually left the house for non-uni reasons! Well I never. And look, its Harold! I’m gonna go see him. Watch my drink. Um, actually I’ll take it with me.”

  Rose watched Faye teeter across the dance floor toward Harold, who was at the opposite end of the DJ booth to Ossian. Her attention moved away from Harold and back to Ossian. His long, dark hair was hanging loose, almost shielding his face as he looked down into a bottle of whatever he was holding. Rose felt sorry for him, he looked lonely. He was probably shy and overwhelmed. Partying could be daunting for some people. She decided she’d approach him, chat with him, try and put him at ease, and maybe make a new friend. As she stood and picked up her drink, she was greeted with another “Hello.”

  It was Roman. He looked quite sharp in a blue shirt and jeans, his golden hair tousled and free. Thistle hung off his arm, dressed in a very short pink skirt, thigh-high pink leather boots and a tight-fitting pink garment that Rose was sure could not be a top.

  “Hi,” Thistle said in her dreamy voice. “You look really pretty.” She sounded sincere and Rose couldn’t help but smile warmly at her.

  “Thank you, so do you.”

  “Yeah, you scrub up pretty well,” said Roman. “Knock out dress.”

  “Thanks.” Rose sipped her drink.

  “I see your mate is getting along with Dickie over there.” Roman jerked his head toward the DJ booth.

  Rose turned to see Harold pulling Faye close for a kiss. “Dickie, eh?”

  Roman laughed. “Harold Dickinson, Dickie for short.”

  “I’m assuming he doesn’t like being called that, in which case, I might just start using it.”

  Roman cocked his head. “You don’t much like him do you?”

  Rose shrugged. “What’s not to like? Arrogant, self-obsessed, chauvinistic, to name a few of his better qualities, but I guess he’s part of your group so he must have some redeeming qualities.”

  Roman looked, for a moment, as if he was about to argue or protest but the moment passed. He shrugged gesturing to her almost empty glass. “You want another?”

  She smiled sweetly. “My hero.”

  “That’s me.” His emerald eyes caught and held hers and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the sudden raw connection. She quickly shifted her gaze only to find herself staring at the tanned flesh that the open buttons at the top of his shirt revealed. She gulped the remaining JD and coke. “A drink would be great”

  Thistle giggled. “Someone’s thirsty.”

  Roman laughed and gave Thistle a lingering kiss on her rouged lips. “Same again?” he asked Rose.

  She nodded. “Please.”

  “JD and coke?”

  “That’s my drink.”

  “Good choice.” Once again his eyes held hers for a beat too long and she was first to break the connection, turning her attention to Thistle who was watching Roman from under her lashes while she pretended to examine her nails. Weird.

  ‘Thistle?” Roman turned to his girlfriend. “The usual?”

  “Mmm hmm.” She nodded, offering her lips for a peck before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  “What’s your usual?” Rose asked.

  “Red wine.” Thistle’s eyes were almost closed. “Don’t you just love this song?” She started to sway her hips to the rhythm, her arms rising in the air.

  Rose spotted Kris and Damon across the room. Kris raised his hand in greeting and they both wound their way toward her.

  “Hi.” Kris’s eyes widened as he took in her outfit. “You look…wow!”

  “You’re sweet,” Rose said.

  “Sweet?” Kris clutched his chest as if wounded. “I was going more for sexy or charismatic but sweet? That’s a killer.”

  Rose laughed.

  Dressed in a white T-shirt with a colourful design on it, black jeans and trainers his hair in artful disarray, Rose had to admit he did look kind of sexy. Damon, however, was in a tux, working his 1950’s Hollywood Glamour with charm and sophistication.

  She pecked them both on the cheek, lingering slightly on Kris to make up for her faux pas. He flushed scarlet and she immediately regretted her impulsiveness. He had the look of a star-struck teenager when it came to her and she needed to be careful not to lead him on.

  He was still staring at her openly a moment later when Damon nudged him. “It’s rude to stare.”

  Kris shrugged. “Can’t help it if the view is great.” He grinned. “We had to get away from Harold and your friend Faye. Talk about only two people being in a room.” He laughed.

  Rose looked over to see Faye and Harold entranced, their eyes fixed on each other. Kris had a point.

  “They need to get a room.” And if she knew her friend it wouldn’t be long before they were doing exactly that.

  “Here you go.” Roman, set her drink down on the bar.

  “Cheers.” Rose took a long swig.

  “No problem.”

  “Maybe you’re not so bad.”

  “If I had known a JD and coke would get you on side I would have turned up with a bottle.” Roman chuckled.

  Damon ordered himself some champagne and Kris an orange juice. He then excused himself and headed toward Raven, leaving Rose to watch Roman and Thistle as they giggled and kissed and did all of those other annoying couple things. Rose was grateful for Kris’s company.

  “So how have you been?” Kris asked. “How was your first week?”

  “I’ll get back to you on that one,” Rose said.

  “How are you finding London?”

  She made a so-so gesture with her hand.

  Kris looked shocked. “We’ll have to remedy that. London is the greatest place in the world.”

  “I like your London patriotism.”

  “London is my girl.”

  “Then every other girl has a lot to contend with.”

  “What can I say? My heart belongs to her.”

  “I envy your relationship.”

  A tap on the shoulder pulled Rose’s attention away from the conversation.

  “Excuse me,” said a male voice in an American accent. She turned round to see a man in his mid-twenties. With his glasses and short and messy brown hair, he was really working the whole geek-chic thing.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but…” he hesitated and fiddled with is glasses, placing his beer on the bar. He looked a little exasperated.

  “Are you okay, mate?” Kris lent over, unconsciously shielding Rose with his body.

  “I’m fine,” he
said, picking up his beer and taking a hearty swig as if for Dutch courage. “I’m Brandon Sonnet.” He extended a hand. “I used to get called Shake back home– short for Shakespeare.”

  Kris waited for him to continue. It was obvious the bloke had something more to say.

  Brandon took another gulp of beer then blurted out. “I saw you talking to Raven Stonewall.” He pressed his lips together as if to hold back a tide of words.

  Rose and Kris exchanged a wary look.

  “He’s a good friend of mine,” Kris said.

  “I only met him at the weekend but he’s really nice,” Rose added.

  “So, you, like, talk to him…” Brandon winced. “Of course you talk to him, why wouldn’t you talk to him? You know him to talk to so you’d talk to him. That’s what’s great about knowing people to talk to because you can talk to them.” He raised his beer glass and proceeded to down the remaining contents. “I could talk to him. I work on reception at USL. But I don’t talk to him. I should but I don’t. Oh I greet him but that’s my job. If only I could just talk to him, like you talk to him.” He paused for breath and continued. “I’m really sorry,” he said with a deep sigh. “I feel like such a fool. It’s just…it’s just…look at him…” He pointed accusingly in Raven’s direction. Rose craned her neck to see Raven talking to a man who looked like a model from an underwear magazine.

  “He’s hot,” Kris said.

  “He certainly is.” Brandon looked stricken. “And he’s had the pleasure of being with Raven Stonewall, getting close to him…” He stopped and sighed again.

  “Wow, lucky Raven,” Kris said.

  “No.” Brandon shook his head sadly. “Lucky Adonis for getting to be so close to Raven…I’m sorry, I’m pretty drunk…”

  Kris nodded in agreement.

  Brandon hung his head.

  “Courage doesn’t come in a bottle, honey.” Rose said. “If you like Raven you’re gonna have to talk to him, get on his radar. But not tonight, eh? Sober is best.”

  Brandon nodded again, ducking his head.

  Rose noticed his eyes were starting to well up. She rolled her eyes. This was exactly why she never allowed herself to get drunk. Alcohol just intensified your moods and knocked you off kilter. She hated not being in control.

  “Don’t cry.” She settled on patting his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

  He sniffed. “I’m sorry…”

  “Seriously, don’t worry about it. If you want to talk to him you should just take the plunge…but not tonight.” She added quickly. “We should get you a coffee or something, help you sober up.” She glanced over Brandon’s shoulder. “Oh shit…”

  “Raven.” Kris plastered a huge smile on his face.

  “Hello, Kris,” Raven said.

  Brandon froze, his eyes going wide.

  Raven moved around Brandon to join the group. “Hello, I’m Raven.” He addressed Brandon. “Thank you for coming.” He cocked his head frowning. “Oh, you’re Brandon aren’t you? You work at the university.”

  Brandon stared at Raven, his body rigid with indecision. Then something inside him seemed to snap and he grabbed Raven’s face and planted a hard kiss on his lips. It lasted no more than a second, after which Brandon pulled away, his whole body shaking. For a moment Rose thought that Brandon was going to keel over, he staggered backwards but seemed to recover enough to turn on his heel and make an incredibly hasty dash towards the exit.

  Roman joined them, shaking his head and chuckling. “Raven, you’re far too hot for your own good.” Thistle was nowhere to be seen.

  “What just happened?” Raven looked slightly dazed.

  “That, my man, is a man in love.”

  “What?”

  “In love with you! Couldn’t you see that? Wasn’t that smacker he planted obvious enough for you?”

  “Poor bloke,” Kris said. “Unrequited love is the worst.” His gaze flicked to Rose but when he caught her eye he looked quickly away.

  Shit.

  Raven didn’t answer, his attention captivated by an incredibly beautiful dark-haired man walking past. He saw violet eyes sparkling behind dark tendrils as the man glanced up at him. Raven felt a pang of longing, a shiver of need skimming down his abdomen.

  “You all right, mate?” Roman asked, taking in Raven’s expression. “That must have been some kiss.”

  Raven shook himself out of his daze. “Where is Thistle?”

  “On the pole.” Kris pointed.

  Roman’s eyes narrowed seductively as he watched his girlfriend twirl on the pole. “I’m gonna get up there and grind with her…” He frowned suddenly, pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket.

  Raven and Kris did the same thing.

  The playful mood evaporated as Raven’s expression suddenly closed. His eyes quickly scanned the room. Without a word he turned and headed toward the exit, followed by Kris, Roman and then Harold and Damon.

  Faye spotted Rose and raised her hands in confusion. Then she snaked through the dancers to get to Rose.

  “What the hell was that?” Faye asked. She looked pissed off. “One minute I was talking to Harold…it was getting pretty interesting…and the next moment he’s running off with his friends.”

  “The same thing just happened to me. Raven, Roman and Kris all picked up their phones at the same time and left.”

  “Well, Harold is getting an earful when I see him next. I think that’s so rude!”

  “Maybe they’re all part of the some weird government conspiracy or something.” Faye said.

  “Or a cult where they go off and have orgies.”

  Faye looked miffed. “They could have asked us.”

  Thistle approached. “Come and dance.”

  “Do you know where they all went?” Faye asked.

  Thistle shrugged her delicate shoulders. “Dance with me,” she sang.

  Faye looked at Rose. Rose shrugged. “Screw it, let’s dance.”

  7.

  BREECH

  The werewolves moved fast, even in human form. Twenty minutes later they were assembled behind a little antiques shop owned by a warlock named Mick. Mick was also the official registrar for the city, responsible for recording details on every supernatural being in London. Warlocks, vampires, necromancers, witches, werewolves and everything in between would come to register with Mick either upon discovery of their supernatural status or brought by their parents upon birth.

  Roman moved quickly, pulling aside a large wheelie bin, resting it against the dirty red brick wall, which made up the back of the building.

  He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Shit, that stinks!”

  “It’s a fucking bin you dickhead! What did you expect? Chanel No. 5?” Harold growled derisively.

  “Fuck off!”

  “Shut up!” Raven ordered, glaring at them. “This is work, not play. Keep your personal feelings to yourselves!”

  Harold shrugged.

  Roman muttered an apology under his breath.

  Raven snapped open his phone. “The alarm was tripped twenty three minutes ago.” The pack had received a standard alert via text informing them of the breech. “The sensors picked up movement in the warehouse.”

  “So someone broke in?” Kris asked.

  “Obviously.” Harold rolled his eyes.

  Raven ignored Harold while answering Kris. “Exactly. We don’t know who or what.” He moved passed Roman to place his hand on a small metal panel affixed to the wall, which had been hidden behind the bin. The metal glowed as it read his personal signature– fingerprints and natural body oils. Then with a hiss like escaping gas, the ground under him shifted. “It’s open.”

  A hatch was now clearly visible in the ground and one by one the pack members quickly descended the steps into the darkness, Raven leading and Harold making up the rear in standard formation.

  At the bottom, Raven located another metal panel, which closed the hatch above them, leaving them in inky blackness. A second pass
ed then the tunnel was lit by a weak yellow light, which the werewolves didn’t need themselves but was there for the human employees.

  “Let’s go.” Raven strode ahead.

  The tunnels branched off, splitting in two then two again, and made up a complex underground network, which linked all the important buildings the pack owned. It was a security measure, allowing the pack to access buildings with ease and mount a surprise attack if there was a breech such as tonight. The antique shop entrance wasn’t the only access point, but it was the closest to their destination without giving them away.

  They were heading toward a warehouse that held a large number of classic cars that had been restored to their former glory and readied for auction. The venture brought in a lot of money and the security was tight. The warehouse was deliberately made to look just like any other warehouse on the outside to ward off any interest. The Alpha employed a single night watchman to patrol the grounds. Too much overt security would arouse suspicion as to the value of goods inside.

  The security inside, however, was top of the range. Infra-red lasers crisscrossed the entire space and circled the podiums on which each car was parked. Hidden cameras recorded all day and night, and the doors were reinforced steel. The windows were high and made of bulletproof, and just about anything else proof, glass. If someone had breached it then Raven was curious to see who or what had managed such a feint.

  “Could it be the security guard?” Damon asked, his voice low.

  Raven shook off his speculation. “What?”

  “Could the guard be inside?”

  Raven shook his head, looking worried. “No. There is protocol for that. He would have sent an alert to Richard prior to entering the building, and would have had to wait for the sensors to be disabled. Besides, there really is no reason for the guard to go inside.” He shook his head. “I can’t get hold of him. He’s not answering his phone.”

  Roman swore softly.

  “You think he’s dead?” Kris voiced what Raven was thinking. “Whoever’s in there could have killed him and taken his keys!”

  Raven shook his head again. “There are no keys.”

  “Huh?”