Title: Crimson

Author: J.E Talveran

Rating: Teen

Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada and it's encompassing characters are not mine but I am taking them out on a holiday for a bit. If the notion of femmeslash or werewolves bothers you, then Crimson might not be your cup of tea.

Author's Note: It's been about two years, give or take since I first published Amberlight, and the first chapter of Crimson on . It was roughly two years prior to that, that I first published Amberlight online period. Now, after a couple of cross-country moves, family emergencies, a writer's block that sucked away a good year of my life I believe I'm ready to start the next book in the series. So, concerning Crimson (updated to Mature just in case) if you dislike femmeslash, or the supernatural crossing over into your canon, or werewolves; then this is not the story for you. I thank you for clicking on it and wish you luck in finding a story that will capture your interest.

For the rest of you, and the ones who have poked me since the beginning, I wish that this story captivates you. Now, without further ado!


Chapter One

A woman seven feet behind her slices her palm on a shard of glass. It takes approximately five seconds for the blood to send Andy Sachs into an euphoric trance and it takes another ten seconds to shake herself down from the high. The copper clings in the air like perfume and it takes all of the lessons on control to stop Andy from rushing the wounded; that and a sturdy hand that clasps onto her shoulder.

"Just relax. Remember your breathing." Doctor James Michaels whispers in her ear. He doesn't remove his hand until Andy's counted out seven breaths and can finally look away from the spot on the wall her gaze bore into. His calm eyes hold steel within the gaze. She can smell the faint traces of aftershave and mint from an earlier mojitio. "There we go."

"It's growing worse," she says, keeping her voice low. The murmur of the crowd was around them and drowns out most of the individual conversations to white noise but that doesn't stop Andy from keeping her voice barely audible. If she spoke about it in public at a normal level of conversation, then it becomes real and she wasn't ready for that. No. Andy liked it best when the … stuff was kept in whispers and only discussed on the stonework tiles of a veranda. It was far easier to pretend it was happening to someone else that way. She turns back to studying a blown up photograph of someone with a carefree smile and a look of contentment. She hates this photo. Why is she standing before it?

James frowns. She can see it in the reflection off the glass pane. He adjusts position to the other side of her as they both catch the sight of who's heading towards them. Lily's breathless. She's exuberant and she's already seized Andy's wrist with a hand as she tugs the brunette towards the back of the room. The alcohol on her breath explains the ease that she pulls Andy through the crowd. As if the year was tucked behind glass and untouchable. They're working towards reconciliation but Andy remembers the months of shunning and it hurts. There's not even a chance to apologize to James as she's pulled away.

It wasn't her choice to come tonight; but the duty to the Pack demanded it. Brianna was picked up as an artist to know and a friend of a friend knew Lily through the gallery circuit and here everyone was, Brianna's murals on display to propel both her and Lily as the next discovery. Normally, this wasn't a big deal; except tonight was the full moon.

A night where they should all be crowded in the foyer of the mansion willed to James and awaiting the urge to fall to all fours; but New York's social elite didn't run on their schedules, not even when it would invoke Miranda Priestly's ire. So, as Alpha, Andy was here to make sure there was not an incident.

"So," Lily lingers on the s as she nudges Andy into a back room filled with crates and the smell of turpentine. It overpowers the blood and Andy feels coherent once again. "You're coming up to Boston, right?" This is the third time Lily's cornered her over the past week to try and convince Andy to join her for celebrating of Nate's promotion to executive chef. Andy just shrugs. It's simpler to answer that way because every time she speaks, Lily cuts her off with reasons why she should go and what it might mean. Their circle of friends still can't see why Andy and Nate had such a rough patch last year, and with how quiet the long-distance quasi-relationship's been, they think that maybe this might be the spark their 'favorite couple' needs.

In fact, all Andy does is make wordless noise as Lily's conversation veers from Boston to awkward apologies for the rough patch that happened between the two of them. Any other night, she'd be attentive. Really. All she wanted right now though was to stalk out onto the open floor and – woah.

She shakes her head vehemently.

"No?" Lily asks. "Andy, c'mon. It's been what, six weeks and you've canceled every other outing."

"What?" Andy blinks, then blinks again. "Oh! No. No, Lily, sorry. I just –"

She cuts off because … did she just hear her name? She cants her head and peers at Lily curiously, and Lily cants her head back. It's comical and Andy finds herself smiling at the look she's receiving.

"Andy?" Now Lily looks concerned.

"Sorry. Um, what did you say? I mean;" her grin is sheepish, "I had a little too much of the punch." It's a bold-faced lie. Andy wouldn't dare to lose even an ounce of self-control. Not tonight. Not with the entire pack restless and –

"Andrea."

Someone had said her name. Oh. Not someone. Only one person in the world says Andy's name like that. Andy's eyes widen and she accidentally nudges Lily into a crate as she stumbles up to her feet. She flings open the door and searches the crowd for a signature streak of ivory … there. Why is Miranda over there? She excuses herself away from Lily and crosses the gallery floor as the scene becomes clear. Lily sputters behind her but Andy's already gone.

The scene is approaches is disturbing, and deteriorating fast. There's Shannon, blond hair styled into loose curls about her face, and she's pinning some blue-haired girl with an interesting tattoo sleeve against a wall. Huh. Wait. Andy's eyes narrow and she's at Shannon's side with a speed she's still not used to. She looks across Shannon's head to meet electric blue eyes and whispers a thank you to Miranda.

Miranda sniffs and gestures for Andy to take Shannon anywhere but here. She'll deal with the bystander. It's a silent exchange but Andy learned to read Miranda's thoughts from a simple look. Andy yanks Shannon back and drags the slender woman through the gallery, past a very confused Lily, and out into the back alley. She slams the metal door behind them.

"What the hell, Shannon?"

Shannon's eyes blaze amber. She twists like a cat but Andy's grip is ironclad on her arm. When she snarls, her fangs are exposed. "I'll kill her! I'll bury my teeth into her pretty little neck and shake her like a ragdoll!" She jerks, hard, away from Andy. It only serves to send both women stumbling off the raised concrete onto the asphalt. Andy's grip is still tight over the curve of her upper arm.

Andy nods. She thinks all she's done tonight is nod, or shrug; and holds up her free hand in what she hopes is a placating gesture. "All right. All right. Just – you have to calm down, Shannon. It's the full moon—"

"I don't care." Shannon's voice is husky now, overlaid with a growl that sends a responsive shiver down Andy's spine. Power crackles in the air. Andy can practically taste Shannon's fury and it's the best meal she's ever had. She doesn't know what to do and if she's not careful, there's going to be a wolf in this alley clawing into that gallery. Make that two wolves. Miranda's not here. She's inside. Miranda's always able to center her. She has no idea where James is.

"Shannon!" Andy barks the woman's name, but she's not listening. Andy swears. She knew this had been a horrible idea. Shannon's going to expose the pack and get them all shot and … no. No. That's not how this is going to go down tonight. Andy sets her jaw firm and gives over to instinct. She was Alpha.

So she acts like it. She intercepts Shannon's next escape attempt and slams the girl into the brick wall opposite where they stood. Power rolls off the two of them. Shannon's image grows hazy. Grows feral. Andy beats her there. She doesn't know how she does it, or what it is, but with her next breath she has Shannon pinned a foot above her and has her teeth a breath away from the column of the blonde's throat. Shannon's neck is angled oddly to the side. Andy can see the pulse quicken under her gaze and she can hear Shannon's heartbeat; Shannon's whimpers.

"I said: Calm. Down."

She drops the woman, who no longer smells of anger and power, and steps back. Her eyes burn and she slaps her hands over them to try and calm herself down. Shannon's fallen into a crouch, she's still whimpering. Andy's ears buzz with the sounds of New York. Andy's bloods pound with the urge to take the city on. Andy's mind struggles to keep a grip. She's burning up, she feels restricted, she can't breathe. She claws at the buttons of her shirt and the sound that escapes her throat is not human. Not entirely.

"Andy?" Lily's voice cuts through the fog and all Andy can do is whimper. Of course Lily would follow her. Shannon's not able to leave her crouch until Andy lets her and Andy can't turn around. The lawyer's safe from Changing but Andy's about to collapse from keeping hers in check. A wail catches in her throat and she can't let it loose because it's not a human cry. She doesn't want to hurt Lily. They just started to repair whatever had broke the year before.

"Move." Miranda's voice. Miranda's hand curls about her shoulder. Miranda's scent flares about her. It's not the relief she expects. It's intoxicating. It stirs up a hunger within her belly that all but dismantles her right there. She can't have Miranda there. She can't be there.

"Get off me." Andy's voice is tight, it is controlled, and it does nothing to hide the fact that in a minut, she's going to be the wolf that exposes everything and ruins the pack.

"Andrea—" Miranda's voice has a hint of desperation to it.

"I. Said. Let. Go. Of. Me." Andy's voice is garbled due to fangs not meant for a human mouth. She's not shimmering, as she calls it, but she's so damned close it would take next to nothing to set her off. She wrenches her shoulder out of Miranda's hold and turns sharp on a heel to meet the editor's gaze. Electric blue meets smoldering amber and it takes the last tatters of Andy's willpower to jerk her chin towards Shannon. "Take care of her." She manages.

Then she bolts down the alley. She hears alarmed voices behind her but she doesn't care anymore. All she cares about is the song in her veins. She only cares about the full moon that blazes in the night sky even as the city lights blot out the rest of the night. She cares about nothing else but giving in to the demand pressuring her mind.

As her body is overtaken by the burning glow of the Change, she tears away the layers of clothes branded with names she no longer cares about and lurches forward. Her nails find purchase on the textured road and she scrabbles away from the alleys and into the closed construction zone. What's left of her mind remembers that she had gone over this escape route with James not two hours earlier. There was an entrance to the old tunnels right – there. She turns a hard right, her paws digging into the gravel, and bolts into the welcoming safety of the dark.