by Amos Cassidy
Raven exhaled slowly and realised that he had been holding his breath. He wanted to tear his eyes away but found that he couldn’t. His body was on fire with a need that was purely sexual. He wanted this man, he wanted to fuck him so hard that…
“Raven?” Jessica’s voice smashed through everything, yanking him back to the lecture theatre and the chocolate brown carpet, the cream walls and every eye in the room studying him. His erection instantly died. The nausea faded. His balls ached and so did his head. He looked around.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just need a drink of water.”
He glanced quickly at the violet-eyed man who smiled at him. The scent was gone. There was just a man sitting there, a student waiting patiently for his lecturer to talk. Raven hurried back down the stairway, grabbed his glass of water and gulped it down, his back to the students.
“Are you all right?” Jessica sounded worried.
Raven straightened up. “I apologise for that, Jessica,” he said with deceptive calm.
He was rattled, but he couldn’t show it. “This is only my third lecture of the term and I am still quite rusty. Let’s continue.”
Raven did not look up at the back row again. Instead, he focused somewhere in the middle of the lecture theatre. The rest of the lecture passed uneventfully.
“It ends here,” Damon said, stopping by an overflowing skip down a short alley that stopped at the back of a shopping precinct in Hackney.
Kris growled softly. “Fucking demons!”
They had been following a trail for hours, taking them out of Shadwell and into Hackney. It had led them through various residential areas, up towering blocks of flats, into parks, down alleyways, over rooftops. The trail even mingled with another, following a direct trail to the canal before separating– one ending completely and the remaining one continuing to lead them down the canal path through more residential areas before ending completely at their current point.
“Maybe it crossed back over here,” said Maxwell. “I don’t know a great deal about summoning but I think that a demon can only stay for a finite time on this plane if it is summoned. Once it’s completed the task it was called for it’s sent back by the summoner. If, in this case, we’re looking at a summoner who lost control of the demon, then the demon could have been pulled back to its realm once it’s time ran out.”
“Not before it did some damage, though.” Kris pointed out.
“Yeah, well it looks like there’s nothing further we can do here. If it’s gone then good riddance. What we need to concentrate on now is finding the person who’s doing the summoning. I’ve already informed Bob and he’s passed the info on.” Maxwell reached into his pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He shook one out, popped it in his mouth and lit up, taking a long drag.
“So what happens now?” Damon eyed the cigarette. Maxwell offered him one and he accepted.
Maxwell shrugged. “I guess they’ll have to interview all the summoners.”
“We’ll need to keep our eyes peeled on patrol,” Kris added. “If this person is malicious then there’ll be more of those things.”
“I’ll call Raven,” said Damon.
9.
FUNK THIS!
Rose lay sprawled on the bed, still slightly damp from the shower and wrapped only in a large terry towel. Her hair was wet against her shoulders and back but she couldn’t seem to summon the energy to push it away. She felt good despite her aching muscles. Although volunteering at the centre back home on a part-time basis had not prepared her for the regular work out that she was getting in her present job, she should be exhausted, but she felt strangely invigorated and lethargic at the same time. It was hard to believe that two whole weeks had gone by already.
There was a tap at her door and before she could respond it swung open. Roman strolled casually in as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She sat up quickly, holding the towel tight against her breasts.
“Excuse me! Do you mind?”
He looked at her, his eyes travelling slowly up and down her body, his smile slightly too suggestive for her liking. “Not really, there’s nothing to get a man going like a woman still wet from the shower.”
“Yeah, well I have no interest in ‘getting you going’,” she snapped. “Now get out.”
He held up his hands. “There’s no need to be rude. I just wanted to remind you about the gig tonight at The Whisper.”
Rose frowned.
“Funk This are playing.”
Her brow cleared. “Oh, yeah, now get out.”
He sauntered toward the door and Rose couldn’t help but notice the movement of muscle under his fitted T-shirt, or the perfect hard peach of a bum encased in tight denim.
He paused at the door and turned to look at her with an amused expression. “You know you’re the first girl to ever kick me out of her room.” He grinned then shrugged. “Well we all have our crazy days.” He turned to leave.
“I’d be crazy to let you anywhere near me,” she retorted. “Playboys are so last year and defo not my type. Besides, you’re not that cute.”
He paused. “Really?” Spinning on his heel he walked slowly toward the bed, like a cat stalking its prey.
Rose’s mouth was suddenly dry, and she shrank back instinctively. There was something almost predatory about his approach. The amused smile had been replaced by a singularly intense look, his eyes pinned her to the bed. She felt the bed dip with his weight as he crawled onto it on hands and knees, she felt the heat of his body and was powerless to move, found she didn’t want to move as he dipped his head until his face was a mere centimetre away from her shoulder. He inhaled, trailing that imaginary line from shoulder to the dip in her neck. She couldn’t breathe, in fact, held her breath as his breath trailed a path from that dip up and over her cheek until his lips were hovering a hair’s breadth from hers. She could feel his arousal, hear it in his heavy breath and to her horror, her body echoed his desire. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to taste him. As if of its own volition her head jerked forward to close the gap between them, but her reason asserted itself in that split second before their lips could meet. And she turned her face to the side, so his lips did nothing but graze her hot cheek.
“You have a girlfriend.” Her voice was husky with desire. Slowly she pushed herself away from him, turning to look him in the eye.
He blinked once, twice slowly, as if coming out of a dream. His eyes widened slightly and he scrambled off the bed.
“Of course, you’re right but I think I made my point. You wanted me, Rose. Admit it.” He gave her a lopsided smile.
Rose shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’m a red-blooded woman and it’s been a while, and men aren’t the only ones with needs you know.” If she had been hoping to shock she was disappointed.
“Always happy to help a lady in need.” He grinned in what she guessed was supposed to be a teasing manner but his eyes were anything but. His eyes were dark and serious. She licked her lips at a loss for words and his gaze was drawn to them like a magnet.
Tearing his eyes away he shrugged. “Or you could try Kris. He has a crush on you already, should be an easy ride.”
She felt her temper flare and was glad of the distraction. She liked Kris and was perfectly aware of his little crush on her, and wasn’t about to do anything to encourage it when she didn’t feel the same way.
“You might like playing games with people but I don’t roll that way. I’ve heard you on the phone to a different girl almost every night. You, Roman, are a slut and I don’t do sluts.” She shook her head. “I feel sorry for Thistle.”
Roman’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing, his tone, when he spoke, was flat and dangerous. “My personal life is none of your goddamn business.” He took a step toward the bed. “You know what your problem is? You’re attracted to me and you can’t get off your high horse and admit it because it goes against your little rule.”
Rose could feel the heat eman
ating off him, felt her own answering heat but refused to back down. “You really do love yourself, don’t you?” He opened his mouth to respond but she continued. “No, don’t answer that, it was a rhetorical question.” They remained that way for a few beats, staring at each other. Then Rose sighed, exhaled and mentally shook herself. “Look, let’s just forget it. You have your way of looking at the world and I have mine. We have to live under the same roof so let’s just…forget it.”
Roman seemed to consider this then nodded curtly.
“I just want to say one thing before we close this subject,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Thistle and I have an open relationship.” And with that he left the room.
Rose flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the purple ceiling. Open relationship? That explained a lot, but why tell her? Did he think it would make her feel better about being attracted to him? Because she doubted he had bought her denials. Roman had been right, she had wanted him. And despite his attempts at levity afterwards, and his anger at her taunts, she knew he had wanted her too.
The Whisper was already packed when Rose entered. She had to crane her head to search the crowd for Roman, Kris or Thistle. She spotted Thistle straight away, her neon green mini dress was kind of hard to miss. She was standing in a corner watching a game of darts in progress. She smoothed down her own turquoise halter neck, which she had paired with a pair of cream low-rise jeans. Weaving her way through the throngs of eager partiers she headed in the direction of the shining green beacon.
“Hi.” Rose greeted Thistle.
“Oh, hello.” Thistle smiled, flashing her pearly whites then continued to watch the game. Two young men, looking to be in their mid-twenties, were bantering as they played against each other.
“They should be done soon.” Thistle informed her as if Rose actually cared. She scanned the crowd again.
“They’re on the far side of the bar, closest to the stage.” Thistle hadn’t taken her eyes off of the board.
“Oh, um, thanks.” Rose dithered. She wanted to join the others but felt rude just leaving Thistle standing here. On impulse she asked, “You want a game when they’re done?”
“Really?” Thistle looked unreasonably eager as if Rose had just offered her a hundred pounds.
“Sure, if you want.”
“I’ve never played, it looks like fun.” Her eyes gleamed in the dimly lit room.
Rose was shocked. “You’ve never played darts? Ever?”
Thistle shook her head.
“Well, then.” Rose approached the two men who had by now finished their game but were loitering and hogging the darts. “Hello, boys.” She insinuated herself between them, looking up at them coyly through her lashes. “You mind if us girls have a game?”
“Anything for a pretty lady.” The taller man handed over the darts. The shorter one flashed her an appreciative grin before backing away.
She had hoped they would disappear to the bar or something but they decided to stay and watch. Oh well, she shrugged. She was pretty good at darts, she just hoped being watched didn’t put Thistle off playing, it was her first time and she might find it embarrassing. She moved back to Thistle. “You okay with them watching? Because if not I can get rid of them.”
Thistle turned to regard the two young men. “Oh, no, I think I’ll be fine.”
“You want me to go first, just so you can see how it’s done?”
Thistle smiled a closed lipped smile and nodded.
Rose stood back, took aim and fired a triple twenty, another triple twenty and a Bulls-eye.
“Nice,” called one of the men.
Retrieving the darts, she handed them to Thistle. “Now remember just take your time, don’t rush, take aim and then lead with your arm.”
Thistle took the darts carefully in her hands turning them over as if examining them. She looked fascinated. After a moment she stepped up to the mark and took up the pose ready to throw. A few seconds later she was done. Rose’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Three Bulls-eye!
“Smooth!” Someone shouted out from behind them.
Calmly retrieving the darts, Thistle handed them to Rose. Rose frowned at her. “Are you sure you’ve never played before?”
Thistle shook her head. “Must be beginner’s luck.” She shrugged. “Shall we get a drink and join the others?”
“A drink sounds good.”
As they made their way to the bar, Rose dismissed the idea of Thistle as a hustler. She had sounded sincere when she had said she had never played before so it must be like she said– beginner’s luck. Either that or she could have a natural ability for the game.
The bar was pretty busy and while they waited, Rose found herself studying this girl who could play darts like a pro and was happy with an open relationship. She had never gone for that kind of thing herself. She liked to be in a monogamous relationship and as much as she liked sex, she didn’t feel comfortable with one-night stands. Thistle was a stunning woman and she didn’t understand why Roman wouldn’t want her all to himself and vice versa.
Before she could censor her speech, her mouth opened and she was blurting it out. “So you and Roman, how long have you two been together?” It had come out all wrong, sounding more intrusive than like the polite enquiry she had intended.
Thistle made a small ‘O’ with her mouth. “Why, are you interested?” She enquired politely.
Heat rushed to colour her face. “What? In Roman? I don’t think so!”
“What’s wrong with Roman?” Thistle looked genuinely perplexed. “He’s very sexy and I’m seeing him.”
“Exactly,” Rose said, glad for any excuse not to fancy Roman.
Thistle regarded her for a long moment with her large doe eyes and Rose was struck by the impression that Thistle was a lot smarter than she gave her credit for. Her next words confirmed Rose’s suspicions.
“He made a pass at you, didn’t he?” She smiled wryly.
“Er…no…”
Thistle threw back her head and laughed a full-throated sexy laugh that had a few heads turning at the bar. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “We have an understanding.”
“Open relationship.” Rose supplied.
“He told you?” She looked slightly amused. “He must really like you.”
“More like he was horny and wanted a quick fix.” Rose couldn’t completely censor her annoyance. But Thistle looked offended.
“I should hope not! I make sure of it!” Now it was Rose’s turn to look shocked. Thistle’s eyes widened. “Too much information?”
They stared at each other for a moment and then both burst into laughter.
“What can I get you girls?” The hunky bartender from last Saturday interrupted and, giggling, they placed their order.
Any tension that had existed between the two women had completely dispersed. Rose realised that Thistle was a girl that she would very much like to socialize with, and with Faye being so loved up the past couple of weeks, it would be nice to have some sane female company.
Roman was an idiot for not committing. She could see why he couldn’t let Thistle go though, there was something compelling about her. She was the ultimate contradiction, a shrewd mind in a punk-Barbie body with a Marilyn Monroe voice as the icing on the cake.
“How’s Dickie?” Roman asked Kris.
Kris shrugged, his mouth turned down. “Haven’t seen him really, just briefly here and there. He came back to get a change of clothes this morning but that’s about it.” Roman looked blankly at him and Kris, realising he needed to elaborate, continued. “He’s practically moved in with Rose’s mate, what’s her name…”
“Faye.” Damon supplied, sipping his martini.
Roman looked concerned. “Shit, he must be taking it bad.”
“But I bet all the sex he’s getting is helping soothe his battered ego,” Damon said dryly.
Kris shot him an annoyed look.
“I’m just saying,” Damon said, “he
hasn’t really gone out of his way to be a team player has he? It’s always all about him and this thing he has, to be the top wolf.”
“I know he has his…issues, but if you take the time to get to know him he’s a really great bloke. He just sees the world differently.” Kris, the peacemaker once again.
Damon looked set to argue but Roman stepped in. “I understand what you’re saying, mate, and you could be right. I mean, you live with him and I guess it must be hard to keep up the ‘I’m-such-a-hard-dick’ act all the time. There’s bound to be moments he slips and you see the real Harold. But Damon’s right. When it comes to the pack, he hasn’t played fair. Man, you have to give Raven credit for not having ripped his throat out by now, and God knows he’s been given ample reason to do so.”
Damon gave a wavering nod, conceding the point and Kris just looked contemplative.
“Let’s just hope he makes the right call, eh? Come tomorrow he should be back in the pack.” Roman said optimistically. “I know I wouldn’t want to be out of the fold and if Harold is as dominant as he thinks he is then he won’t want to be a Civvie either.”
Thistle slid onto Roman’s lap and he quickly shifted his drink to his other hand freeing an arm to drape around her waist.
“Hello, boys,” she said.
“Hi.” Rose, having no lap to perch on, grabbed a free chair off a nearby table and plonked herself onto it. Kris was smiling shyly in her direction. He would have probably been happy to provide her with a knee to perch on. She smiled warmly back. Just because he was crushing on her didn’t mean she had to be a bitch to him. She would be friendly and polite but not too friendly. That decided, she leant into him and asked when the gig was due to start.
“They’re just setting up.” He pointed to the stage a few feet away and sure enough Rose saw a bunch of men and women scrabbling around and doing funny things with amps and wires.
“Cool.”
“Are they any good?” Damon asked. “I’ve never heard them play before.”
Rose nodded. “I think they’ll defo make it big, they just need the right break.”