3 Minutes to Midnight: Urban Fantasy Midnight Trilogy Book 1

by L. M Hatchell

  After grabbing himself a beer, he twisted the cap off and walked to the large window that ran the length of the open plan room. He looked out over the dimming lights of the docklands and allowed himself to get lost in the hypnotic flow of the water for a few moments.

  Nate was closer to the truth than he’d like to admit. He’d fucked up royally with the hybrid and gotten his ass burned in the process. Now, not only did he have to figure out a way to get her onside, but he also had to convince the others it was the right thing to do.

  “I found her.” The noise from the apartment stopped abruptly at his words. “I didn’t kill her if that’s what you were expecting.”

  It was Annabelle that spoke first, her soft voice curious but holding no judgement. “What happened?”

  Ethan turned his back to the window and met the stares of the four faces in front of him. “She didn’t know anything about the prophecy.”

  Shade raised a pierced eyebrow in his direction before turning his attention dismissively to the old penknife he was playing with.

  When no one commented, Ethan continued, “She was more worried about a human than her own safety. Hell, I don’t even think she realised I was there until the last minute.”

  Taking a swig of his beer, almost to himself he said, “I really can’t see her masterminding a doomsday prophecy.”

  “So, she was hot then.” Nate’s face remained innocent as he spoke, but laughter danced behind his amber eyes.

  “Nate!” Lily swatted at him, glaring.

  Ethan complemented her glare with one of his own and his wolf growled softly. “What she looks like is irrelevant. The only question now is how we get her to help us.”

  “What?” Shade’s head snapped up. “Help us? The other day we were talking about killing her. Now we’re going to be best buds?”

  “No Shade, you were talking about killing her. What would you have me do? Murder an innocent woman just because it’s the easy option?” The muscles at the side of his cheek jumped as his jaw clenched. “If she’s not driving this, then she’s as much a victim as the rest of us.”

  “How do you know you can trust her?” Shade countered, his eyes blazing.

  It was a valid question. One Ethan had been asking himself all day. And he still couldn’t come up with a good answer. But any time he considered the alternative, his wolf reared its head, ready and willing to defend her. Every instinct he had told him they needed her.

  Lily stood suddenly from her stool and slapped her palms down on the counter. “Okay, enough of the testosterone, both of you.” Turning to Ethan, she said, “If killing her isn’t an option, where does it leave us? What’s plan B?”

  Taking a deep breath, Ethan walked back to the sofa and dropped into the still warm spot he’d vacated. “Whether intentionally or not, she’s involved in this. I’d rather keep her close until when we figure out how.”

  He gave Shade a warning look, daring him to protest. “I’ll keep working on the girl. Convince her to help –” damned if he knew how. “But in the meantime, we need more information. We need to know what we’re facing with this prophecy.”

  “Shouldn’t we maybe think about contacting the Council? Let them sort it?” Lily said.

  Nate jerked his head up from the laptop in front of him. “Fuck, no. We don’t need to attract their attention on top of everything else.”

  “Nate’s right.” Ethan nodded. “Lily, can you try your contact again? See if she can give you anything more specific that might help us put a stop to all this.”

  “I have a friend in the Dublin coven,” Annabelle chimed in. “I can get her to do some digging –”

  “No way, it’s too dangerous, Annie!” Lily softened somewhat as she saw the look of hurt of her younger sister’s face. “You can help by searching the wiccan archives. Surely if the covens know about it there must be some other references to the prophecy.”

  Annabelle nodded a reluctant agreement, her eyes no longer meeting those in the room.

  Not having the energy to salve hurt feelings, Ethan turned to the others. “Shade, you and me are on patrol tonight. Nate, see if you can hack into the Gardaí database and find out what spin the humans have been putting on these attacks. They might have spotted a pattern we’re missing.”

  With a wide grin, Nate saluted him, grabbing his laptop as he pushed his chair back from the kitchen island. Shade grunted and followed him out the door without another word.

  Ethan rubbed the stubble on his chin and reminded himself again that they were just kids. Hell, hadn’t he been as much of a pain in the arse at their age? He grabbed his keys and followed them, ushering Lily and Annabelle out the door ahead of him.

  He looked up as he locked the door and was surprised to find Annabelle watching him curiously. Tousling her hair, he asked, “What’s up, kid?”

  “What was she like? The hybrid?”

  Ethan thought for a moment but could only come up with a single answer.

  “Unique.”

  ***

  Phoenix had gone to her room with the intention of calling Darius. Instead, she found herself buried among the soft pillows of her bed and staring at the blank screen of her phone.

  Doubts started creeping in with the cold light of day, and though she knew he’d be up long before sunset, she held off, reluctant to make the call. He’d use it against her. Use it as proof that his argument was correct; she should return to the lair.

  The sudden ringing of her phone jarred her from her thoughts. Her heart pounded when she saw Darius’s name flash on the screen. Feeling unnecessarily guilty, she fumbled to answer.

  “Uncle D.”

  “Phoenix, darling. I’m glad I caught you. I was beginning to get worried when I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

  “Sorry, things have been a bit mad at the bar lately. I’ve been meaning to call.”

  She wound the platinum chain of her mother’s medallion around her fingers and wondered how she could broach the subject of the Supe without worrying him too much.

  “I’m glad to hear business is thriving. I would still very much like to come visit this establishment. Perhaps I could offer some investment options for expansion if it’s doing that well?”

  Phoenix felt her throat go dry. “I don’t think Abi is looking to expand, but the offer is appreciated.”

  “I suppose she’ll have enough on her hands, managing the pub when you leave,” Darius said.

  “I’m not coming back, Uncle D. I told you that.”

  She forced her voice to be firm, her decision very clear on the matter. Going back wasn’t an option, no matter what else happened. She would stay, or she would find another alternative, anything but that one.

  “We talked about this. You can’t continue living with the human.”

  “That human is my friend.”

  “Phoenix –”

  “Have you told anyone about me?” The question left her mouth before she could think it through.

  Darius stopped in his tracks, silent for a moment on the other end of the phone.

  “What’s going on, Phoenix?”

  “Have you told anyone I’m a hybrid –” She faltered. “I mean, aside from the few vamps that already know?”

  “Of course not. Do you think I’d risk your safety like that?”

  Shame heated her cheeks. What had she been thinking? Darius had worked tirelessly with her parents to keep her identity secret. Why would that suddenly change now?

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Uncle D. It’s just, there was a guy in the bar last night. A Supe. He knew what I was. It kind of threw me.”

  “Do you know who he was?”

  There was an edge to Darius’s voice that made Phoenix pause. Had she made a mistake mentioning it? Maybe she shouldn’t be making such a big deal of it.

  “No. I think he may have been a werewolf, but I’m not sure.”

  More silence.

  “Has anything strange been happening lately?” She paused, w
ondering how much to say. “You know, like, in the Lore?”

  Darius released a harsh laugh. “There are always strange things happening in the Lore. Why do you ask?”

  “He said there’d been attacks, and that people were being killed. He seemed to think I was involved somehow.”

  “That’s ludicrous.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but why would he think I was involved?” The question had plagued her all night. She still couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation.

  “Unless …”

  Phoenix sat up straighter, letting the chain fall from her fingers. “Unless what, Uncle D?”

  “Unless the Council has heard rumours of your existence. It’s possible they might fabricate stories, to act as a … deterrent to others.”

  “But why would they –” She broke off with a bitter laugh. “Oh, I get it. Make me out to be the Lore equivalent of the bogeyman, so others will be too afraid to follow the same path my parents did.”

  “It’s just a thought, Phoenix. I could be wrong.”

  A heavy lump settled in her stomach at the harsh reminder of where she fit within the Lore. She was the ultimate symbol of defiance. One of their most sacred edicts broken and unpunished. There was no way they would take her existence lightly if they found out.

  “Is there any chance he could have been telling the truth? About the people being killed?” She didn’t say what she was really thinking; she didn’t dare ask about the humans.

  “I would be fairly confident the wolf is not to be trusted, but let me talk to some of my contacts in the Council and see if they’ve heard anything of concern.”

  “Thanks, Uncle D.”

  “Oh, and Phoenix. If this wolf bothers you again, I want you to let me know immediately.”

  She smiled at his stern tone and hung up the phone.

  At least she had one person in the Lore on her side. Funny how it didn’t stop the lump in her stomach from getting a little bit heavier.

  With the door to the frigid morning open in front of her, Phoenix stared at the heavy grey sky.

  Figures.

  She sighed and stepped into the miserable, hazy rain before turning left, away from the pub. A steady jog quickly loosened her limbs, and the rhythmic pounding of feet on the pavement became a meditative mantra, clearing her mind of the worries that had plagued her all night.

  It wasn’t long before the gentle incline carried her to the gate of Whitethorn Park. Instantly, her spirits lifted. She took a deep breath, savouring the freshness of the air and the energy that hummed around her. The park was blissfully quiet with only the occasional jogger or bird braving the elements. Gravel crunched under her feet as water splashed her from above and below, the bare tree branches offering little shelter from the elements.

  Consumed by the physicality of her movement, she almost missed him – the Supe from the bar. He sat sprawled on a wooden park bench, his arm resting casually across the back as he watched her. A dusting of dark hair and thick sinuous muscle peeked out from the sleeve of the black V-neck jumper that was starting to soak through.

  Geez, doesn’t this guy feel the cold at all?

  A slow, sexy smile spread across his face as she slowed her pace, and Phoenix felt an almost irresistible urge to slap that smirk right off.

  “Are you following me?” She came to a stop with her hands on her hips and discreetly surveyed the park for any nearby humans. She was counting her safety on him not wanting to attract attention.

  His grin didn’t falter at her cold tone. “I thought maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “I guess you could call trying to kill me the wrong foot.”

  An indignant pout replaced the grin as he sat up straight. “I told you that was a misunderstanding. I just wanted to talk.”

  Having the grace to look sheepish, he relaxed back into the bench. “I may have gone slightly the wrong way about it.”

  “You think?” Phoenix almost choked in disbelief. The absolute gall of him!

  She turned, ready to continue her run and leave this madman to his games, when he stood and reached for her wrist.

  “Get your hands off me, wolf,” she growled, sounding almost wolf-like herself.

  To her surprise, he let go, and a brief flash of annoyance crossed his face at her chosen nickname.

  “I just want to talk to you, nothing more. I promise.”

  “We have nothing to talk about,” she said, and turned to continue her jog. She noted vaguely that he hadn’t corrected her wolf assumption, which ruled out running away. There was no outrunning a wolf’s hunting instincts.

  He kept pace with her easily. “Are you not even slightly curious about the prophecy?”

  “You assume I believe there is a prophecy.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Darius’s words replayed in her mind, causing her to bite her lip. In a way she would rather believe there was a prophecy. The alternative, that the Council might know of her existence, was terrifying.

  “I only have your word to take for it. And considering I don’t even know you, why would I believe you?”

  “Well, what if I start by introducing myself?” He stopped in front of her, rich brown eyes watching her closely as he held out his hand. “I’m Ethan.”

  She ignored the offered hand, trying, with difficulty, not to step back from the intensity of his gaze. “I’d love to say it was a pleasure meeting you, Ethan, but I was brought up not to lie.”

  He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. “I guess that’s just one more thing that’s unique about you.”

  A thunderous bang from the sky overhead pulled her attention to the heavy black clouds that hung like a thick blanket above them. The previously light haze of rain turned to heavy droplets that splashed against her like miniature puddles and drew her attention to the fact she was getting cold and wet.

  “Look, I’m done with this conversation. I’d like to get back to my run now if you don’t mind.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to keep badgering her, but instead he held out his hand and presented a small, folded piece of paper.

  “Just do me a favour and take my number. You never know when you might need it.”

  A strange sense of unease washed over Phoenix at his words, effectively quelling her urge to tell him where to shove it. Silently, she took the paper and turned towards the park entrance, wanting nothing more than to go home.

  The silver coin burned as Il Maestro flipped it over each finger, but he ignored it; pain was just a state of mind. Leaning back in the large leather chair, he poured himself a generous measure of whiskey from the crystal decanter on the desk in front of him.

  After a few moments, he turned his gaze to the vampire standing to attention by the large mahogany desk. “What’s the status?”

  “All of the wolves are recovering after the attack, but they were severely injured.” Raphael paused and eyed him warily. “It will take time for them to heal.”

  He gripped the glass tightly. “We don’t have time.”

  “How would you like me to proceed, Il Maestro?”

  “Kill them. Get me more test subjects and implement the same formula.”

  Raphael nodded before turning abruptly on his heel.

  “Oh, Raphael.”

  The vampire stopped with his hand hovering near the door handle. “Yes, Il Maestro?”

  “Make sure I don’t have to kill this group.”

  Raphael nodded again and walked out of the office.

  Throwing back the glass of whiskey, Il Maestro savoured the burn that slid down his throat as he mused on the condition the wolves had returned in. It would have taken a lot of strength and skill to overpower a group of wolves under normal circumstances, but these wolves were formulated for strength and aggression.

  It also wasn’t the first time someone had derailed his plans in recent months, and it was starting to become inconvenient. Maybe it was time to escalate matters further.

  ***r />
  The air was cool as Il Maestro stepped into the large stone chamber, buried deep beneath the earth. The head of the Dublin witch’s coven was already present, standing tall with her arms resting at her sides. Not quite meeting his gaze.

  Curious.

  “Belinda, so good of you to meet me here on such short notice.”

  He took one of her hands in his as he bowed to place a light kiss on the back of the smooth hand, noting the ever so subtle stiffening of her body.

  “You said it was urgent. I felt it best not to keep you waiting,” she said, the aging husky voice belying her youthful complexion.

  “Indeed.” He turned his back and walked further into the darkness of the chamber. “We are at the precipice of a vital change. It is more important now than ever that our intentions are clear to those we support.”

  “What would you have of me?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her choice of wording. “I think a blood sacrifice might be appropriate, don’t you?”

  If she was affected by his suggestion, she didn’t show it. Then again, he was sure she’d resorted to much worse purely for the sake of vanity alone.

  “There’s a full moon in three nights,” Belinda said, a simple practicality to her tone. “The sacrifice will be more potent then.”

  “Good.” He watched her as he trailed his fingers along the large stone altar that stood in the centre of the room. “It is vital that we keep the favour of the Horsemen. We haven’t yet reached the end game and already there have been … interferences.”

  The change in her posture was so subtle it could easily have been missed, but there was no hiding the ratcheting of her heartbeat. Not from him.

  She nodded and moved quickly towards the chamber entrance. “I’ll see to the arrangements immediately.”

  “Belinda.”

  The softly spoken word stopped her in her tracks.

  “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  She turned, and her eyes defiantly met his for the first time since she’d arrived. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”