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

by Amos Cassidy

  The motion did not go unnoticed as two of the Darklings, breaking from their rapture, lunged at him. The game was up.

  Shit!

  “DADDY!” Faye yelled, a mixture of anger and panic.

  “Rose!” Liza cried. “Free me. I can help him.” She jerked her head in Raven’s direction.

  She had been heading toward Erin but quickly adjusted her trajectory. Kneeling before Liza she touched her shackle, freeing her.

  Liza sprung into action, rushing to Raven’s aid.

  Raven had two of the dark creatures on him. They all moved quickly in a flurry of teeth, wings and claws. The snarls and crunches, the slashes and hissing as the three beasts collided was enough to make the already anguished butterflies in Liza’s stomach become a circus of frenzied flutters.

  Bres was nearby, protected by those evil little pixie lights that were buzzing all around him like a shield of fireflies. His focus was on Raven and his Darklings. The woman with red hair, Faye, was watching Rose some feet away, furious and oblivious to Liza’s presence. Liza was glad of that. Faye definitely gave off a vibe of being very much unhinged.

  This was crazy, all of it so crazy. The being kidnapped, the revelations as to why they were all gathered here, and the murder of that man…that horrible murder…by his friend’s hand… Liza noted all this in less than a second.

  The sound of a yelp smacked her eardrums. One of the Darklings had Raven pinned face down, talons raking at his glossy fur. Raven was snarling, snapping and yelping and twisting but his powerful jaws were unable to get a bite. The position he was in made him vulnerable, the wolf body preventing him from gaining purchase of his assailants. The other darkling was close, not attacking but…sniffing, like it was taking great pleasure. Liza felt sick, not wanting to know what gave that thing pleasure. Invoking the power within her she spoke the words. The magic danced inside her, drowning out the butterflies, filling her with adrenaline and a familiar euphoria. She released a knock back spell, a direct hit on the Darklings. The two grotesque creatures were thrown backwards off the wolf and crashed into a wall. The blue-black wolf twisted fluidly back onto his paws. He nodded his head in Liza’s direction, silver eyes gleaming with gratitude. But there was to be no breathing space.

  The Darklings were soon on their feet again, wings beating furiously as if echoing their emotions. They hissed angrily. Raven snarled and turned to face them– a barrier between her and them. He raised his head and howled. Liza prepared herself, recharging her magical energies for another spell.

  It was then that Bres extended his focus to her and within seconds she was surrounded by dozens of tiny lights.

  The turquoise energy continued to spin above.

  Rose knelt to free Erin and an eerie screech filled the air. She turned her head to see Faye barrelling toward her, her face an ugly mask of fury.

  Fuck!

  Rose raised her arms instinctively in defence, but Faye never reached her as another form barrelled into her from the side in a blur of silver and blue. Ossian. They fell to the ground grappling. Heart in her mouth, Rose turned back to her task and freed Erin. There was no time to ponder the implications of what had just happened. In a nutshell it looked as if Ossian had defected to the righteous path. She could only hope he would keep Faye occupied long enough for her to finish her task.

  “Run to your mum,” she instructed the frightened little boy. He hesitated for a spilt second then, nodding, turned and rushed toward the shadowy corner where Flo was crouched and still bound.

  She was already melting through Thistle’s shackles, afraid her power would desert her at any moment. “Come on.” She urged it.

  A second later and Thistle was rubbing her sore wrists. Another few seconds and Henry was free.

  “I’m sorry…I don’t think I can walk...” His brow was creased with effort when he tried to stand.

  Rose glanced at Thistle, who nodded, and together they lifted him to his feet, one on either side, his arms around their shoulders. They began to move quickly, half carrying, half dragging their cargo toward the shadows, Thistle a little unsteady on her feet from lack of blood.

  Almost there…

  A shadow loomed overhead.

  Thistle jerked back. “Watch out!”

  Rose looked up to see a darkling, wings flapping with glee, hover then dive toward them.

  “Immobile!” Henry cried with a strength that belied his frail condition.

  The darkling froze in mid-air, its eyes wide in shock and confusion, claws primed to shred.

  “Quick,” Henry gasped. “It won’t hold long.”

  Rose didn’t need to be told twice. They covered the remaining distance with renewed vigour and deposited Henry beside Flo. Thistle fell into a crouch next to Erin. Rose quickly freed Flo from her shackles. A gentle touch to her mouth dissolved the silver gag.

  “I’ll do everything I can to keep them safe.” Thistle promised. She was too weak to fight.

  Rose nodded and turned her back on them, heading back into the fray.

  “Rose, watch out!” Erin screamed.

  The darkling had broken out of its paralysis and was heading straight for Rose. Without pausing to think she took a step forward, pivoting on her left leg and bringing her right leg up and round with perfect timing to connect with the creature’s head. The impact threw it backward and it slid a few feet across the ground, legs akimbo. Rose advanced. It was soon back on its feet. Four-foot of stout muscle, powerful legs and razor sharp teeth and claws, its sickly yellow eyes bore into her.

  “Sssoft.” It purred. “Kell like sssoft.”

  Yuck! It was drooling.

  Rose willed her power to rise, not wanting to touch the vile thing again, but to no avail. Oh, well. Old school it was, then. Raising her fists and falling into a fighting stance she narrowed her eyes. “I hope you like knuckle sandwiches.”

  “Well,” Faye said, flipping her hair as she got to her feet, “you prick.”

  Ossian stood before her, staring at her warily. There was dirt on his blue robes, the result of tackling Faye. His body language was of cat-like anticipation.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Ossian?” She cocked her head enquiringly.

  “I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Really? Is that what you’re doing? Do you realise that this is just distracting me from stopping those lot ruining everything? This is serious. This is serious for you as well.”

  “Someone has been killed.”

  “By the hand of a fellow werewolf,” Faye pointed out, a cruel smirk on her face.

  “By your manipulation you mean. You’ve been polluting him with-”

  Faye’s laughter cut him short. “You’re one to talk! Wasn’t it your magical cologne that messed with the Beta wolf’s head? Made him want to fuck you, made you irresistible? Bit rich coming from you isn’t it? We use the tools we have to gain the advantage.”

  “But not for murder.” Ossian fought the horrible ache in his chest called guilt.

  Faye shrugged. “These are desperate times.”

  “This is not the way it should be happening.”

  “Are you questioning Bres?”

  Ossian flinched at the question but stood his ground. “No, but I am sure that Morrigan will.”

  Faye smiled, unconcerned by the threat. “Get out of my face, Ossian.”

  Ossian stood upright, a battle waging within– his duty to his people against his sense of right and wrong. His morality won. “No.”

  Faye sighed. “Don’t make this into a thing. I’ll forgive you for making me roll in the dirt and for ruining my fabulous outfit. Okay?”

  “I fucking said no!”

  Faye roared with laughter. “Wow I didn’t think you could swear.” Her expression hardened. “Now move.” Faye pulled the silver rope belt from her waist and cracked it. The snap was loud and vicious. “I haven’t let my whip have a good run for a while.”

  Ossian reached behind his head, fingers reaching through h
is thick silver hair. With a graceful motion he extracted a long silver sword from beneath the strands of hair, gripping the ornate handle tightly.

  “That’s pretty.” Faye swung her whip.

  Ossian leapt backwards, the tip of the whip just grazing his left cheek.

  Faye swung again. Ossian sliced the sword in an upward move. The two weapons collided with a horrible screech and a spray of silver sparks.

  Faye was swift to act, swinging her whip behind her and bringing it back to swipe and wrap around Ossian’s ankles. She pulled hard trying to unbalance him, but Ossian reacted in time to cut the whip. Faye stumbled backward at the sudden break of tension.

  She growled and spun the shorter whip like a ribbon, a pretty dance of silver just above the ground.

  Ossian ran at her. He knew what she was doing as tiny pieces of silver glitter fell from the swirling whip. Faye was regenerating it.

  “Stop!” Ossian boomed, holding the sword in a stabbing position at her chest.

  She stopped. “You’re such a prick.”

  “I won’t let you…”

  Before Ossian could finish what he was saying, Faye dropped to the floor, tearing her dress on the sword tip as she did. She kicked Ossian’s legs out from under him and he went down, sword flying from his hands. Faye grabbed her whip and sent it out like a spring-loaded snake. It had regained some of it former length, and was enough for its silver form to coil around the sword before it hit the ground. She pulled the sword to her. It landed at her feet heavily. “Just call me the fey cowboy.” She retrieved the sword.

  Ossian jumped to his feet a little too late. The silver whip was around his neck and pulled tight, crushing his windpipe.

  “Now.” Faye twirled the whip in one hand and Ossian’s sword in the other. “What to do with the rebel fairy? Hmmm…cut his pretty traitorous head off? Strangle him to death? What about cutting your sorry bollocks off first and then strangling you?”

  Ossian clawed at the whip, struggling to free himself to take a breath.

  “You’re not worth killing. Anyway, I need time to think of better ways to hurt you. Goodnight for now.” With an aggressive yank she pulled Ossian off his feet.

  Ossian fell sideways, his head meeting the ground with a nasty crack. His eyes fluttered closed and he lay still. Faye stood over his body only long enough to remove her tightly wound whip from his neck, and deliver a kick so hard it propelled him across the cavern. He landed in a heap across Roman’s body. He was out cold but he’d live. Although he’d have a bitch of a headache when he came to.

  Faye threw the sword into the shadows, smoothed the front of her torn and dirty dress and pouted in annoyance. It had been such a pretty dress. She hated to be seen in such an undignified state but it wasn’t Ossian’s fault, not really.

  She knew just who to blame.

  With her whip in hand, she made her way, again, to the bitch that had started this ruckus in the first place.

  “Er, Henry, I think we have a problem.” Thistle’s tone was even but laced with urgency.

  Henry followed her gaze and gasped. A mist of lights had detached itself from the wall and was heading toward them. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Erin’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. “Mum!” He pointed to the lights.

  Flo, jaw set, pulled him closer wrapping her arms around him and burying his head in her ample bosom. They’d taken one of her sons but she was damned if she was going to let them take another. They’d have to chew through her first. Should take them a while, she consoled herself. “It’s okay, baby.”

  The lights picked up speed.

  Thistle’s panicked gaze met Henry’s.

  The lights were a mere few seconds away and gaining. She’d promised Rose…she’d promised…

  Two seconds…one second…

  Henry raised his hands, his eyes squeezed shut.

  “Why.”

  Punch.

  “Don’t.”

  Punch.

  “You.”

  Knee in the abdomen.

  “Die!”

  Interlaced fists smacked between the shoulder blades.

  The darkling sprawled on the ground.

  The Tinkerbell lights surged forward, hungry and determined, teeth and claws primed to shred, and with a crackle of static, bounced off an invisible barrier. They spun backwards through the air in disorientation, trying to readjust their group trajectory.

  Henry opened his eyes, his teeth gritted in concentration.

  Liza couldn’t help but shriek as the tiny things buzzed and tried to bite her. She was using a smoke spell, grey, ashy smog spinning around her, repelling the crazy things as effectively as it could. They would be sent back a few feet in the air and come back for more. The scenario briefly reminded Liza of a wasp that had terrorised her in her kitchen one summer.

  She risked a quick glance in Raven’s direction. She could just about see him through the wall of grey and mist of lights around her. The spell was draining her energy, but thankfully not too quickly.

  Raven was still locked in battle with the Darklings. She heard his snarl of frustration as they evaded him once more. The lights buzzed closer and she focused on maintaining her spell.

  Raven was beyond pissed off. He’d killed one of the Darklings, torn its throat out. Its blood was disgusting but he shook off the sensation of swallowing what tasted like piss and rotten turkey.

  The remaining darkling was proving to be challenging, no, more of an irritation.

  It was on his back first, sending him flat on his belly. Raven was strong enough not to be crushed under its weight, but it wasn’t the most fun he’d had flat on his face.

  He growled as the darkling slid its claws under him, its arms wrapping around his body. It lifted him up, its foul breath hot on the top of his head. Raven snarled and snapped and wriggled as the darkling held him crushingly to its chest, cooing and hissing, its talons digging into his exposed belly.

  Raven gave up. He couldn’t extricate himself and he was done wasting time and energy. Sometimes the wolf form just wasn’t suited for certain situations.

  He shifted back into his naked human form, still in the Darklings arms but able to twist and face it, his arms free. Without delay he grabbed its neck and broke it. The darkling crumbled to the ground.

  Raven’s focus moved to Bres, who was standing and observing. Rage burnt like an inferno inside him, almost painful in its blazing fury. Raven wanted to taste his blood, do more than rip his throat out. He wanted to eat him slowly, make him suffer, die a terrifyingly painful death. He’d start by tearing open his stomach and savaging his insides.

  All that stood between him and his prize were the crazy lights.

  “Liza,” he called. “I need to get to Bres.”

  There was a moment before Liza answered. “I have an idea.”

  Raven watched the spiral of grey smoke and the lights that tried to penetrate it and then the smoke caught fire. The lights around it were consumed instantly. Liza screamed, the fire burned brighter and she shot out her arms sending a sheet of flame at Bres. The lights surrounding Bres reacted to the threat by darting, not away, but toward it and were reduced to cinders.

  “That’s me done.” Liza fell to her knees.

  Bres was now exposed and Raven registered the look of almost comical surprise on his face. Raven shifted back to wolf form, lifted his head and howled, howled for his lost pack brother, howled for the vengeance he was going to take. He lowered his muzzle, his silver eyes meeting Bres’. He wanted the bastard to know what was coming. From the look on Bres’ face the message had been received loud and clear.

  Paws pounding the dirt, he ran toward his prey.

  Bres stood motionless as if paralysed by fear.

  Raven leapt, body flying through the air, his jaws wide, ready to clamp down on fey flesh and bring the sorry bastard down, to spill every last drop of his blood.

  Raven’s jaws closed on nothing but air. Bres was gone.

 
“You’d think they’d get the message.” Flo said.

  “I don’t think they’re very bright…no pun intended.” Thistle said wryly

  The Tinkerbells continued to batter at the shield, seemingly undeterred.

  “Mum!” Erin pointed toward a single Tinker that had detached itself from the group and was hovering outside the barrier. It glared at him hungrily and licked its lips, making chomping gestures with its mouth and rubbing its tiny knobbly hands together in a gesture of anticipated glee.

  “Fuck off, you blighter!” Flo pulled her son even closer forcing him to avert his gaze.

  “I don’t think I can hold this much longer.” Henry’s brow and upper lip were beaded with perspiration, his hands shook where he held them in the air. The effort of maintaining the spell was almost too much.

  Thistle bit her lip. “Maybe they’re not so dumb after all. It’s okay, Henry. You did your best.”

  Which is more than I could have done, she added silently. For once her vampiric nature was nothing but a burden to her– her need for blood making her weak and useless. At full strength she could have moved like lightning, squashing the little bugs between her fingers and feasting on their tiny little hearts.

  If the barrier failed the only help she could provide would be to throw herself first, to allow the little midges to feast on her flesh. It might give the others time to escape.

  She laid a reassuring hand on Henry’s thigh. “It’s okay,” she said again.

  A ripple of blue passed through the shield. Henry’s eyes went round with surprise and the Tinkers fled backwards to hover a foot away.

  “Don’t. Move. Your. Hand.” His eyes were wide with surprise.

  “What…”

  “I think it’s helping.”

  Flo took in the scene over the top of Erin’s head, making the connection quickly. She too placed her hand on Henry’s thigh.