Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (8 page)

“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 passed 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?”

Raven came to a halt. “We’re here.”

They came through the floor of the
small administration office at the back of the warehouse. It was a basic room,
with no windows, a desk, a computer, filing cabinets and a phone. There was
only one door leading into the main warehouse and this was locked from the
outside.  Raven placed his hand on a small metallic panel to the side of the
door, similar to the ones giving access to the tunnels. There was a muted
click.

“It’s open.” He turned to the pack.
“This office leads directly into the workshop. There’s a wall between the
workshop and the storage floor. The ramp leading to the floor is on the other
side of the workshop. Got that?”

They all nodded eager to get on
with it.  Raven frowned. “Proceed with caution. Roman, Kris, you flank me.
Harold and Damon, bring up the rear. Spread out so we can cover more ground.”

Instructions meted out, he slowly
opened the door and slipped through. The others followed.

The workshop was wreathed in
darkness. With their wolf senses, they were able to manoeuvre easily across the
floor. Half way across Raven froze, his nostrils flaring, his head thrown back
as he inhaled. He dropped to the ground, holding up his hand in a signal to the
pack to do the same.

Roman sidled closer and froze as he
caught the scent that Raven had. “Werewolves,” he whispered.

“Rogues,” Raven confirmed, the scent
being one he recognised. “I can smell two of them, but there could be more.
Don’t shift unless you need to.”  Which meant unless the rogue shifted. 

Roman nodded, scuttling back to
relay the information and instructions. 

As one unit they entered the
storage floor. 

The cold night air hit them first.
The delivery doors were open. The rogues were planning on helping themselves to
the goods. 

From his vantage point behind a
1928 Bentley Speed Six Tourer, Raven could see the front of a large black lorry
parked almost out of view of the huge roll-up doors.  He scanned the floor and
noted that two podiums were already empty. They’d succeeded in loading two
vehicles. 

Harold, parked to the side of a
1926 Austin Box Saloon, slid forward slightly. He had managed to get closest to
the door and the scent of the two rogues was driving him mad.  They smelt of
sea salt and a spicy earthy tang that spoke of running free across vast
expanses of forest and beach. The wolf within yearned and his anger rose. 

Roman was suddenly beside him.
“Calm down, man. I can feel your agro from over there and we’re not even in
wolf form,” he whispered. 

Harold turned his black eyes on
him, his face as hard as flint, his lips stretched in a crazy grin. He lunged
forward, shifting before his paws hit the ground. 

“Shit!” Roman thought fast,
throwing a look over his shoulder for instruction.

Raven was out of sight, he couldn’t
let Harold go in alone. There were two rogues that they knew of for sure and Harold
would be out numbered.

Roman growled deep in his chest and
shifted.  The world was suddenly pin-sharp around him, his senses heightened
tenfold. He shook his head blowing air out of his nose. Ears pressed flat
against his head, he advanced to back up Harold who was now at the doors.

Raven felt his temper flare. From
his vantage point he could see both Harold and Roman in wolf form heading into
what could be a bloody confrontation. His aim was not to kill the rogues but to
bring them in to be interrogated. Killing them was a last resort. If he could
be certain there were only two rogues he would have pushed forward. But the
plan had been to wait for them to come back in for another car, to circle them
and surround them. Thus contained they could either take them in or hold them
as hostages against any other rogues that were potentially waiting outside the
warehouse.

Harold and his impulsiveness meant
a change in plan. Quick strike rather than a slow deploy. Kris and Damon were
within signalling distance and he signalled for them to move out. They nodded,
moving forward but keeping to the cover of the cars as much as possible.

Roman’s nose picked up the smell of
death, a human, there was blood.

The guard, they killed him.
Roman
spoke mentally to Harold.

What the fuck you expect? How do
you think they got in?

Raven said the guard didn’t have
a key

Yeah, well they killed him
anyway. The fuckers! And now I’m gonna rip them another one!

We need to try and bring them in
alive!
Roman reminded him.

They’ll be alive…barely, but
alive.

Roman’s head snapped up. They were
coming this way.
Quick, back up. They’re coming.

Ambush?

Let’s do it!!

Outside, a large muscular man with
shoulder length black hair, and a slightly shorter wiry man, entered side by
side. They were laughing about something, completely at ease.  A few feet from
the door the smaller man stopped, holding out his arm in front of the bigger
man so it smacked him in the abdomen.

They scent us! Attack! 
Harold
screamed the command in Roman’s head and instinctively Roman followed the
slightly more dominant wolf’s lead.

They rounded the doorway, bounding
full pelt toward the men. The larger man’s eyes widened in shock, he probably
hadn’t expected them to be in wolf form. The smaller man was already shifting.
It happened quickly. Harold barrelled into the large man, throwing him off his
feet, his fangs going for the throat, when an orange blur hit him from the
left, sending him sprawling to the side. The orange wolf struggled to pin him. 
The smaller man, now in wolf form, smacked head-on into Roman and they both
fell back, momentarily stunned. But only momentarily. They were back on their
paws in a flash and circling each other.

Raven, Kris and Damon came
sprinting outside, Raven’s eyes blazing as he took in the scene– three wolves
against two.

A dazzling white light blinded
them.

Raven staggered back, his eyes
streaming, his hand going to his face to shield his vision. His foot stepped on
something soft and squishy and he almost slid. He heard Kris and Damon cry out
and Roman howled then whimpered. 

Something large and heavy connected
with Raven’s torso and he fell back, pinned under the weight. The roar of an
engine coming to life superseded everything. The light was gone and dark spots
danced before his eyes. He blinked rapidly to try regaining his vision.  His
nose told him he was pinned by Harold and he heaved, pushing the unconscious
wolf off him. The ground vibrated under the massive wheels of the lorry as it
drove out of the lot. Raven ran after it, barely able to make out the outline
of the vehicle. His foot connected with something soft and he tripped, falling
forward, his arms coming out to connect with the ground, breaking his fall. His
vision chose that moment to clear. He found himself staring into the one,
intact eye of the night watchman, the other having been ripped from its socket.

“How could they have known how to
access the building? In fact, how could they have known what was in there? 
They came prepared with a massive fuck-off lorry and bloody flash grenades!” 
Harold held a bag of ice to his head even though the gash inflicted by the
rogue wolf had already healed.

They were congregated in the
Alpha’s lounge, in his plush penthouse apartment in Canary Wharf.

The living room was a generous
rectangle sporting a minimalist and contemporary feel.  The panoramic windows
looked out into the night, the city lights twinkling. The view was breath-taking,
the Thames below, a generous view of St Paul’s Cathedral, The Gherkin and other
famous London landmarks. The view was a privilege of the wealth of the
werewolves, and of being an Alpha.

The atmosphere was stubbornly tense
as the active pack took residence on the enormous black leather sofas. The
Alpha was finishing some calls in his study and Marianne, his wife, had, on
their arrival, retired to the kitchen to whip up an energy-restoring snack. 

Raven stood with his back to the
pack, looking out into the night beyond the windows. “I don’t know how they
knew. There could be a leak somewhere in the pack as a whole. It’s a serious
possibility.”

“They tore out that bloke’s eye,”
Kris whispered to himself.

“The only way to access the
building is an optical scan…clever.” Roman nodded in comprehension.

“Not clever enough.” The Alpha
strode into the room and every spine straightened to attention as if it were an
automatic function.

Richard was a tall, lithe man,
radiating power and barely restrained energy. His silver hair was swept back
from his forehead elegantly. His eerily pale blue eyes bore into them in turn
as if searching for weakness. As his gaze came to rest on Harold, his mouth
tightened in barely controlled fury. Harold pulled his gaze away, resting it on
the plush cream carpet instead. 

“You disobeyed a direct order.”
Richard’s tone was even and deceptively calm.

Harold’s shoulders tensed at the
words, his head shooting up as he glared at Raven. His lip curled in a sneer.
“Tattling already are we, Raven?’

A sudden violent burst of power,
its signature one of white-hot fury, had the active pack members falling to their
knees in pain. Raven staggered back until the only thing holding him up was the
window. 

Richard was a blur as he moved
across the room. In mere seconds he had Harold by the throat, holding him
against the wall, his feet dangling inches from the ground.  “You dare to
disrespect your Beta in my presence? You dare to disrespect
me
?”  His
voice was thick and a few octaves deeper than normal, a sign that the wolf was
in control. “I see everything, I feel everything. I know what you did. I felt
your lust, your jealousy. I know what you desire!”