3 Minutes to Midnight: Urban Fantasy Midnight Trilogy Book 1

by L. M Hatchell

  “Humour me.” He waited calmly.

  Her right hand slipped into her coat pocket where she no doubt carried a protection charm of some form. Nonetheless, she answered him.

  “It appears rumours may have been leaked about the prophecy. The leak did not come from my coven and the details were minimal,” she hastened to clarify. “But I have seen to it that the source has been dealt with accordingly.”

  The smile dropped from his face, and with it, fell any air of friendliness. “There is more.”

  A brief hesitation, then a nod. “I believe a member of my coven may have also betrayed us recently.”

  “And what do you intend to do about it?”

  A chilling calm settled over the witch’s features. “As I said, I have a sacrifice to prepare.” With that, she turned and left the chamber.

  Il Maestro watched her go while digesting the new information.

  The witches were becoming unreliable. Their thirst for power was overly complicated by a tendency towards inconvenient human emotions. It was possible, of course, that this had no relevance to the attack on his wolves, or earlier complications, but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Anger simmered in his veins at the thought of everything being ruined by such simple incompetency. Everything he had worked for. Everything he had waited for. Belinda would rectify the situation or she would find herself the next to be sacrificed.

  Needing a release for his anger, he turned to the door that sat, almost invisible, in the stone wall and took the key from his pocket. The heavy metal lock opened and he stepped into the utter blackness of the cell. He smiled serenely as he lifted the blood-stained chain from its hook on the wall and closed the door tightly behind him.

  As usual, Phoenix felt his presence before he even sat down. The wolf – Ethan – had become such a permanent fixture in the pub over the last few days that she hardly had the energy to get angry anymore. He’d kept things relatively light-hearted in his attempts to speak to her, but she’d be damned if she let him trick her into dropping her guard.

  With Abi unloading stock in the back, and the other bar staff not due in until later that evening, she had no choice but to serve him. Although the less contact he has with Abi the better, she thought as she remembered Abi’s shameless flirting the night before.

  “What do you want, wolf?”

  “Now is that any way to speak to a paying customer?” He gave her his trademark cheeky grin and rested his forearms on the bar. “I’ll have a bottle of Blue Moon please.”

  Shaking her head at his usual choice of poison, she twisted the top off an ice-cold bottle and plopped it unceremoniously in front of him.

  “What, no glass?”

  Her hand tightened around a pint glass, and for a moment she considered throwing it at his head. Instead, she placed it calmly on the bar and gave him her sweetest smile.

  He put his hand on hers before she could pull it away and watched her with open curiosity. “How have you managed to stay off the radar for so long?”

  Phoenix tensed and pulled her hand back. She didn’t sense any form of malice or threat behind the words, but his eyes were probing, and his curiosity made her uncomfortable in ways she couldn’t explain.

  “You know you were less annoying when you were trying to kill me,” she said before hurrying to the far end of the bar, and the safety of waiting customers.

  Her snarky comment elicited a rich laugh that followed in her wake and sent shivers along her bare arms.

  For a while, she worked in peace, chatting and laughing with some of the regular Friday-nighters. She told herself repeatedly that the big lump of testosterone sitting a few seats away was merely a figment of her very annoying imagination. And that worked fine until the big lump of testosterone once again began working his charms on her very human, very breakable friend.

  From the other end of the bar she could hear Abi’s laughter. Phoenix sighed, and accepting her fate, she trudged back to the corner where Abi stood animatedly chatting to Ethan.

  At her approach, Abi turned and grinned. “Hey, Fifi. I was just telling this lovely gentleman about that time I managed to get you really drunk, and we –”

  “Abi! I don’t think our customers need to hear about how well their bartenders hold their drink.” Phoenix glared, all thoughts of safeguarding Abi’s wellbeing suddenly replaced with thoughts of throttling her.

  “Oh, I think your customers would love to hear all about it.” Ethan threw Abi a cheeky wink.

  “Why don’t you go for your break now, Abi?” Phoenix shifted her glare to Ethan as she gave Abi a not-so-subtle nudge.

  “Okay, okay, I can take a hint.” With a grin and a wave, Abi sauntered off to the kitchen, the sway of her shapely hips most definitely exaggerated.

  “So, Fifi, did you want to talk to me about something?” Ethan asked, once he was finished watching the show.

  “Nobody except Abi gets to call me that without losing vital body parts.” Phoenix reached for a large, serrated kitchen knife and began slicing lemons. The implicit threat earned her little more than a chuckle.

  Ethan held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, why don’t you tell me your actual name then?”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Well, I could always call your cute friend back and ask her.” He took a casual swig of his beer.

  The thought made her shudder. She really didn’t want to witness any more of Abi’s blatant drooling. Anyway, why was she even fighting it? He already knew enough to cause her trouble if he wanted to.

  “Fine, it’s Phoenix.”

  “Hmm, Phoenix.” He rotated the bottle of beer idly in his hands as he seemed to test the sound of her name on his tongue. “I like it.”

  Oh goody, my life is now complete.

  When he didn’t elaborate any further regarding his opinion of her name, Phoenix grabbed a cloth and moved to wipe up the pools of condensation along the bar top. Surely she could get back to ignoring him now that she’d been polite for a few minutes?

  “You haven’t asked me anything more about the prophecy,” Ethan said after a brief silence.

  Nope, obviously she couldn’t ignore him.

  Flashing back on the follow-up call she’d had with Darius the day before, she sighed in frustration. As expected, his enquiries with the Council had been fruitless. There were no murmurings of a hybrid, and as he couldn’t ask outright without drawing attention, it made questioning difficult. Of course, Darius was a master of wordplay so it didn’t stop him digging, but his conclusion was the same as before: either Ethan was lying or the Council had intentionally started the rumour.

  The more time that passed, the less option one made sense to her. Why would some random guy seek her out just to tell her lies? Actually, how would some random guy even know she existed to seek her out in the first place?

  Which left option two …

  Phoenix finally stopped what she was doing and looked at Ethan. “Okay, I’ll play ball. Who told you there was a prophecy?”

  “We have some connections with the witches.”

  We?

  “And how did you find out about me?”

  “The same way.”

  Shit, now the witches knew about her too?

  “That day at the train station, did you know what I was?”

  “No. I could sense there was something … unusual about you, but I didn’t know.”

  “So, how did you find me?”

  Ethan gave a small smile. “To be honest, I’m not even sure myself.”

  Ignoring his ambiguity, she hugged her arms around her stomach and asked the question that worried her the most. “How do you know it’s true? How do you know this isn’t just a rumour the Council started?”

  He eyed her quizzically. “Why would they do that?”

  She said nothing, but clutched her midsection tighter.

  “Look, Phoenix.” Ethan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “In the past week alone we’ve had to prev
ent six attacks on humans. I’m not talking about your normal day-to-day violence. I’m talking serious shit that would give you nightmares. There’s something really wrong out there.”

  “And how do you think I’d be able to help?”

  He raised his eyebrows and a cheeky glint stirred in his eyes before he grew serious once more. “Truth be told, I don’t know. But the prophecy refers to a hybrid, so whether you like it or not, someone decided you’re involved.”

  Taking a final swig of his beer, he stood. “You have my number when you’re ready to call me. Just don’t wait too long.” With that, he left the bar, a strange sense of emptiness remaining in his place.

  He was right, she did have his number. So why hadn’t she given it to Darius?

  ***

  The cracked leather was rough under her knuckles, the heavy punching bag offering little resistance to her onslaught. Sounds echoed from the stone walls and linoleum floors around her, and sweat and adrenaline permeated the air. Phoenix loved the starkness of the gym; all niceties had been stripped back until the only thing left was determination and drive. Focus. Just what she needed.

  She’d been coming to this gym ever since she found herself in Whitethorn, continuing the training her father had started with her before he disappeared. Recently though, she’d been slacking, and something told her it was time to get her act together.

  “Not bad for a woman,” Ethan’s deep, familiar voice teased her from behind.

  Without hesitating and driven by sheer frustration, she turned mid-strike and sent a back-fist straight towards his head. He parried at the last second. His look of surprise was quickly replaced with a grin as he moved just out of reach.

  “I thought you were going to wait for me to call?” Phoenix dug her fists into her hips to avoid the temptation of a second swing.

  Less than two days of peace, that’s all she’d gotten – two bloody days!

  “I am. I just had some energy to burn and fancied a spot of training.”

  She stared in disbelief at the impressive v-taper of his back as he strolled towards the large boxing ring in the centre of the gym. Should he even be allowed out on a full moon? Surely there were rules about that kind of thing.

  Looking back over his shoulder, he called, “You coming or what?”

  What is it with this guy?

  Although … maybe it would be fun to take some of her frustrations out on him. They still had a few hours yet before the moon would be up. Looking around, she took stock of the other people training nearby. There were enough humans that he couldn’t really try anything too shady, and she could do with the practice.

  With her mind made up, she strolled casually towards him. She folded her arms across her chest and eyed him up and down. “What do I get out of it?”

  He appeared to think for a moment, but something about the glint in his eye told her he already had the answer prepared.

  “You win, I leave you alone for good. I win … and I don’t.”

  Her steps faltered.

  Tempting offer. But it hinged on one key factor. Could she beat him? Sure, he had the height advantage and was packing significantly more muscle than her. Hell, he was a werewolf; he’d probably chew her up and spit her out without blinking. But she had speed on her side, and with humans present, they’d have to dampen down their Supe abilities anyway.

  Was it worth it for the chance to be left alone? Chewing on her lip, she decided the answer was simple – she just needed to make sure she won.

  “Deal,” she said as she closed the distance between them. Ignoring the hand he held out, Phoenix stepped lithely onto the high platform of the ring and jumped over the ropes.

  He followed, slipping off his t-shirt as he went.

  When she looked up, she was met with a solid, finely sculpted chest, dusted in hairs the colour of rich chocolate that she imagined would match his wolf’s coat when he turned.

  He was obviously trying to distract her.

  Giving herself a mental shake, Phoenix shifted on the balls of her feet and pushed all distractions from her mind.

  “First to pin the other wins.” The words were barely out of his mouth before she launched her first attack.

  The low roundhouse to the side of the knee knocked him off balance momentarily, but he recovered quickly, blocking her follow up strikes with a speed that belied his size, even when it was obviously being restrained.

  They moved in a blur of strikes, parries, twists, turns, and locks. Phoenix struggled to dredge up a very rusty repertoire of moves, but her body quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm; her muscles remembering what her mind had forgotten.

  She caught him with a kick to the gut and pressed her advantage as she turned swiftly into a spinning back kick. Her foot met only with air.

  An unexpected low sweep from the side caused her to stumble backwards, and she suddenly found herself pressed up against the corner of the ring. Before she could move, Ethan’s imposing form was in front of her, taking advantage of her momentary lapse to pin her in tight.

  Her breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded like thunder in her ears as she realised she couldn’t move. A memory flashed unbidden into her mind. Fear. Helplessness. A blinding light she couldn’t control. Her chest grew tight and she began to struggle in earnest.

  But there was nothing holding her.

  She blinked in confusion and tried to focus past the pounding bass of her heartbeat. The sounds of the gym slowly filtered back into her consciousness: weights thudding to the floor, fists hitting canvas.

  Ethan was standing at arms-length, watching her with concern. He was close enough that she could smell the musky scent of his sweat, but he stood to the side, clearly allowing her a path to move from the corner.

  When she didn’t move or speak, he turned and walked to the far side of the ring, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

  “Let’s just call that a win for me,” he said as he threw her a cheeky grin and jumped over the ropes.

  Still shaken, Phoenix pushed herself out of the corner and moved to follow him. “Ethan?”

  He stopped and looked at her expectantly.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because I can’t just sit back while innocent people are hurt.”

  His words were quiet, but she heard them crystal clear. And she watched quietly while he turned and walked out of the gym, more confused than ever before.

  Ethan could feel the pull of the moon as he left the gym. It would be completely dark soon, and if he was back home in Donegal, he’d have been preparing to hunt. But this close to the city, he couldn’t chance it. Besides, it didn’t feel right without his pack. Each month he was away from them, he fought the change – something only the strongest of wolves could do.

  It helped that his head was so full of questions about the woman he’d just left. She was fascinating in ways that could only mean trouble for him. There was no point pushing her though, he knew that now. Phoenix had her walls up so high that she didn’t even realise they were there. It would take a miracle to get her to trust him. He just hoped they had enough time for that miracle.

  The musical tones of “Wild Thing” dragged Ethan’s attention back to the present and he made a mental note to kick Nate’s arse. The kid was forever changing his ringtone, thinking he was hilarious when he wasn’t.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and was surprised to see Annabelle’s name flash on the screen. “Hey, kid, what’s up?”

  Annabelle’s voice was unusually low at the other end of the phone. Her fear was almost palpable, as if reaching through the phone to claw at him.

  “Ethan, I think I’m in trouble. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Okay, tell me where you are.” He forced his voice to stay calm, but his heart ricocheted in his chest.

  “I’m in an old warehouse near Celbridge. The witches are doing dark magic. Ethan, I’m trapped.”

  “Dammit, Annabelle, what the hell we
re you thinking?”

  The words were out before he could stop them, fear for her safety getting the better of him. She wasn’t far away, less than five minutes if he floored it, but he needed to be with her now.

  “I know. I’m sorry. But they have my friend, Ethan.” Her voice broke in a whispered sob that gripped his heart. “They’re going to sacrifice her.”

  “Shh, kid. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just give me the exact address.”

  She quickly relayed the location to him, and with a promise to stay hidden until he arrived, she hung up the phone. Moving with renewed purpose, Ethan jumped on the oil-slick black Harley he’d taken to the gym. He quickly dialled Nate’s number, tapping his hand impatiently against his leg.

  No answer.

  Dammit, he needed to go. There was no way they’d make it in time anyway. He could only hope he would.

  ***

  A silence that was almost unnatural hung in the air as Ethan arrived at the address Annabelle had given him. The abandoned warehouses looked like jagged teeth against the dark night sky, and a sense of emptiness pervaded everything in the area.

  He’d have known the warehouse he was looking for even without the address. A weight fell over him as soon as he pulled close to the dilapidated structure. The weight of dark magic.

  The sensation was almost tangible, like trying to move through a wall of sludge. A cold chill washed over his skin and Ethan felt like he would never be clean again. He kept his mind firmly focused on his goal and pushed through the oppressive feeling. Once he was close enough for an easy escape, he switched off the engine and rolled the bike into the shadows.

  Inching along the side of the building, he found a piece of corrugated iron, bottom edge bent upwards. The scent of blood rose up to meet him and his gut clenched – Annabelle's blood.

  He tried to calm the adrenaline that pounded through his body and he knelt to take a closer look. A small smear of blood ran along the edge of the sheet; a scratch from when she was crawling through, maybe. His breath left him in an exhale of relief.

  If that was the worst of both their injuries tonight, they'd be lucky.