Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (7 page)

And she definitely knew what she
wanted. 

She could hone in on a good catch
from yards away. And Ossian definitely ticked all of Faye’s boxes. The only
logical explanation for her claimed indifference was that it was feigned.
Ossian hadn’t been interested. Well, that was a first. Rose felt a glimmer of
admiration toward him. It took a lot to ignore Faye, she was pretty hot with
her fiery red hair and dainty features.

“Yes. Whatever. Fuddy-duddy.  I’m
not interested in a man who doesn’t know how to have fun.  All he’s done since
I got here is read and make stupid notes.” She headed for the hallway as she
spoke.

“Yes, well it’s not all about
shagging, hun. He could turn out to be a great mate.  He’s obviously serious
about his studies and he’s very polite.”  Rose followed Faye into the hallway
only to find she had opened the door and was standing outside.

Rose sighed. “Faye, I am absolutely
shattered. We are not going out.” She stood firm.

Faye simpered, batting her lashes.
“Oh come on, Rose. I’ve been stuck indoors all day waiting for you to finish
work.”

“Stuck in bed snoring more like you
lazy cow!”

“I do not snore!” Faye said
indignantly.

“Believe me, you most certainly
do.”

“Whatever.” Faye shrugged it off.
“Come on, please. I’m so bored!” She looked at her friend eagerly.

Rolling her eyes, Rose stomped down
the steps to the path. “Okay, where do you want to go?”

Faye pretended to consider,
although Rose had the sneaky suspicion that her friend knew exactly where she
wanted to go already.  “How about that place, The Whisper, which you said
Roman’s friend told you about?”

“Faye, I’m going to throttle you!”

Faye looked aghast. “Why?”

“Because that’s in Soho.”

“So?”

“I’ve just come from bloody Soho!”

“Shit. Sorry, I completely forgot.
If I’d known I would have come down and met you from work.” She said looking
genuinely contrite.

“Okay, okay.” Rose sighed. “It’ll
be cool to check it out. Let’s go.”

 They made their way arm in arm
toward Bethnal Green tube station. 

The Whisper was by no means a large
venue, but what it lacked in size it made up for in sheer character. The décor
was retro and the vibe extremely hip. A working jukebox stood in the corner,
its lights flashing in sequence, and a Beatles track filled the air.  The bar
was semi-f and the numerous tables were filled with chatting and very
relaxed looking people.

An impressive coffee machine stood
behind the counter and there was a raised platform for dancing and
entertainment, it even sported a pole.

“I am going to have to give that
thing a whirl later.” Faye grinned in approval.

The Whisper was like a chameleon:
café, bar and club all rolled into one.  It even had a couple of sofas for
those who wanted to get cosy.

“Pretty cool.”  Rose agreed as she
glanced around.

“Come on, I for one could do with a
drink.” Faye headed for the bar.

“Yeah, coffee.” Rose swallowed a
yawn. “Extra-strong for me, please.”

“Two glasses of medium white wine
and two packets of salt and vinegar crisps, please.”  Faye ordered.

“One glass of white wine, an
extra-strong coffee and two packets of salt and vinegar flavoured crisps,
please.” Rose amended.

“Come on!” Faye nudged her.

“U-huh. A coffee now, then, maybe
I’ll see how I feel later about wine.”

Faye turned back to the bartender,
gave him the once over and paid for their drinks.  Handing a large coffee mug
and a packet of crisps to Rose, Faye led them to a just vacated table.

“Look at this.” Rose held up a
flyer as they sat down. She read out loud what was written on it.  “Rainbow
Rave Saturday Nite, 8 til Late: A Celebration of Sexuality. Prudes Need Not
Attend.” She looked up at Faye. “Sounds fun. You in?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Faye
took a satisfying sip of her wine “So, how was the first day?”

Rose blew on her coffee then took a
tentative sip, allowing the heat to wash away some of her tiredness.

“Good, the class went well. I had
to deal with a trouble maker.”  She told Faye about Derek and how she had
charged him with the role of demo partner.  Faye laughed, her eyes twinkling.
“So you get to keep him in line. If he acts cocky, he gets smacked down,
right?”

“Right.” Rose took another sip of
her coffee, willing the caffeine to do its work.

Faye regarded her for a moment from
under her lashes. “Anything else happen?”

Rose sat back, preparing to vent
about Harold and his boorish behaviour, when her gaze flitted to the bar and
she stilled, her heart plummeting at the sight of a now familiar pumped figure.
As if sensing her eyes on him, Harold turned spotting her almost instantly, his
lips curving in a strange smile as if he could read her thoughts.  Her
discomfort at his presence was probably evident on her face.

Faye turned her head to see what
Rose was staring at and Harold’s smile turned instantly into what could only be
described as a seductive one.  Rose diverted her gaze, determined not to give
him any reason to come over.

“Who is
that
?” Faye
whispered, leaning closer to Rose. “He is absolutely yum.”

“Oh, shit. He’s coming over.” Rose
gritted her teeth.

Harold was weaving his way through
the tables, making a beeline for them, a pint of amber liquid clutched in his
massive paw of a hand.  He reached the table and stood towering over them. Rose
reluctantly raised her head. He had saved her skin earlier, the least she could
do was be polite.

“Hello, Rose. Didn’t expect to see
you again so soon. Who’s your friend?” Although the question was directed at
her his eyes were firmly fixed on Faye.

“Hi. I’m Faye.”  Her voice was
shallow and breathy as if she’d just finished a five-mile run.

“Harold.” He held out a hand which
just about engulfed Faye’s tiny one as she shook it.

“Mind if I join you?” Without
waiting for a response he pulled up a chair, turning it around so he straddled
it, his arms across its back. He angled his body toward his target.

“Be my guest.”  Rose replied dryly.

“You didn’t tell me that your
friend was so beautiful.” 

Faye flushed, ducking her head.

“You didn’t ask.”  Rose sipped her coffee,
which suddenly no longer tasted that great– the urge for something stronger
overtaking her.

“My mistake, I should have guessed
that a girl as good looking as you would have some pretty hot friends.”  Harold
cocked his head as he studied Rose. 

“Was that a compliment?”

Harold shrugged. “Just an
observation.” He turned his attention back to Faye.  “So, that hair natural?”

“That’s for me to know and for you
to find out.” Faye retorted suggestively.

“Nice.” He nodded in approval, his
eyes twinkling. “I like your friend, Rose.”

Rose sighed. This was just great. A
man she didn’t like very much, who she hoped to avoid, was hitting on her best
mate– who seemed to find him as equally fascinating as he found her.  It was
looking as if she might be seeing a lot more of Harold than she would like if
she didn’t put a stop to it. Faye deserved better.

Screw playing nice. “Faye, I forgot
to tell you this is Harold, one of Roman’s friends. And probably one of the most
chauvinistic and arrogant men I’ve ever met.” 

Harold threw back his head and
laughed.

She didn’t know what reaction she
had expected but it definitely hadn’t been that. She frowned, unable to hide
her annoyance. “Why don’t you go find your real friends? We were having a
private conversation.”

“Rose!” Faye looked shocked

Rose gritted her teeth.  She wasn’t
sure why Harold got on her nerves so bad, he hadn’t really done or said
anything really offensive to her it was just a vibe she got from him– as if he
thought he was better than her.

“No, no.” Harold shook his head,
his eyes still full of mirth. “She’s absolutely right. I am arrogant and
chauvinistic. I believe a woman’s place is under me.” His gaze was hot as he
stared into Faye’s eyes.

“You’re probably better off
steering clear.” He warned, his eyes fixed on Faye.

Shit! He had played his cards
perfectly.

As Rose watched, Faye’s full lips
curved into a sensuous smile. She could never resist a bad boy, but having said
that she gave as good as she got.  There was no denying that Faye could handle
herself. Rose felt a small twinge of pity for Harold, which she quickly
squashed. If he wanted to play with fire let him. Maybe in Faye he would meet
his match– best-case scenario, he’d be brought down a peg or two.

Fuck it, she thought, it wasn’t her
problem.  Faye was a grown woman and Rose wasn’t anyone’s nanny.

“Well, on that note, I’ll just
leave you two love birds to it. I fear if I stay I might just be sick”

“Huh?” Faye looked up slightly
dazed. “Oh, um, are you sure?” Which roughly translated meant, “Yeah, great.
Now piss off.” 

Rose wasn’t bothered. She’d done
the same to Faye when the situation called.  They had an understanding and knew
when to make themselves scarce.

“Meet you tonight?” Rose said.

“Yeah. I’ll text you.” 

Faye blew Rose a kiss as she left
the building.

6.

ALL THE COLOURS

The Whisper had undergone a
transformation. The coffee machine had vanished and the tables and chairs had
been dispensed with. There was now a lot more space to dance in. The walls were
covered in vibrant fabric of every colour of the rainbow, a generous amount of
glitter sparkling on the surface.

Up near the raised platform with
the pole– now very much like a stage, was a newly erected DJ booth that looked
like a huge cubed disco ball. And there was an actual disco ball hanging in the
centre of the ceiling, dappling the dancers and the people at the bar in shards
of light. It was an eclectic crowd of people united in their intent on having
fun and it made for a vibrant, electric atmosphere.  

Couples of all sexualities adorned
the dance floor. A stunning blonde girl danced on the pole, performing for her
adoring female lover who watched with stars in her eyes. Drag Queens worked it
and gave some good face to the beat, looking glorious in their spectacular
outfits– all big hair and big heels.

Rose loved all the colours and the
sparkle. She’d been to a gay bar in Derby a few times with Faye and had really
enjoyed herself each time. Tonight looked set to follow the trend.  She could
feel it in the air.

“Hello, ladies,” said the young
male bartender with black, braided hair and radiant, caramel skin. He graced
Rose and Faye with a dazzling smile as they approached the bar. He wore all
black - trousers and top - with ‘The Whisper’ written in metallic silver
letters on his T-shirt. “Welcome to Rainbow Rave. Looking hot.” He nodded
appreciatively at their outfits.

Rose was clad in a crimson
strapless dress that complimented her curvy figure and revealed a generous
amount of cleavage and leg.  She wore crimson heels and her hair had been
straightened into a silky mane. When it came to nights out, Rose liked to make
the effort, get into something spectacular. Faye, not to be outdone, had donned
a light blue halter-neck dress, also with decent leg and cleavage exposure. Her
hair was as stunningly wavy and red as always.

“No kissing the boys for you then?”
Rose responded to the barman’s sienna-tinged eyes moving over her and Faye.

“There are some hot guys,” the
bartender said. “But me, I like the girls I’m afraid.” He winked. “And girl on
girl.” He looked at pointedly at them.

“Sorry, honey, can’t help you
there.” Rose put an arm around Faye.  “We’re close, but not that close.”

“Shame.” The barman shook his head
in mock disappointment. “So what can I get ya?”

“Vodka and orange, please,” Faye
said.

“JD and coke,” Rose said.

“Coming right up.” The barman set
to preparing their drinks.

“Hello.” A familiar voice caught
Rose’s attention.

She turned to find Raven standing
behind them looking elegant and sexy in a dark red shirt and a pair of
spectacular gold and black trousers. His mesmerising silver eyes seemed
brighter than she recalled.

“You saw the flyer,” he said.

Rose nodded. “This your doing?”

Raven nodded.

“So are you…” Rose wiggled her
eyebrows.

“Gay? Yes.” He chuckled.

“Well the place looks fantastic,”
said Rose.

Raven looked about as if seeing it
through Rose’s eyes for the first time.  He smiled, clearly pleased with what
he saw. “It turned out just as planned. You both look terrific.”

“Looking good yourself,” Rose said
appreciatively.

He smiled at Faye, extending a hand
in greeting. “I’m Raven.”

Faye shook his hand. “Faye.”

The barman returned with the
drinks. “Vodka and Orange, and one JD and coke.”

Rose reached for her purse but
Raven placed a hand over hers.

“Please, let me,” he said and
before she could protest he handed the barman a note.

“Thank you but you shouldn’t have.”
Rose picked up her drink.

“You lot enjoy the night.” The
barman gave them a wink before moving further down the bar to serve other customers.

Rose took a much-needed sip of her
drink.

“Thanks.” Faye picked up her glass
and raised it in Raven’s direction.

Raven chuckled, the sound coming
from deep in his chest. “Thank
you
for coming and supporting the Rainbow
Rave– a little celebration of freedom, of sexuality and everything Lesbian,
Gay, Bisexual and Transgender. You won’t find any discord here.”

“Do you do this often?” Rose asked.

“A few times a year and all
proceeds are donated to various gay charities across London.”

“So are your friends coming
tonight?” Rose asked. “Roman and the rest of them?”

“Damon and Kris are here
somewhere,” he said. “Roman and Thistle should be here soon. I’m not sure about
Harold.” As he said the final name, Rose read a brief flash of something in his
face, something she could only deduce as being disappointment.

“I hope Harold does come,” Faye
said. “He said he would. I’ll text him.” She got her phone out, her fingers
moving over the small keypad at an alarming speed.

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.