A/N: Ok. This is set before all of the underworld stuff happened. Before the beginning of the film and book. I know there isn't much of underworld in there, but it's basically an introduction. Please review, let me know if you want to see more.

A/N 2: I do NOT own any of the characters in this, apart from Ronni, Karen, Emma and Liz. All others are creative genius of the brilliant people who wrote underworld. So please don't sue me.

What dose every gal do on her 18th birthday?…Go out with a load of mates and get pissed, of course! It's practically law, or at least that's what I told my mum. Oh, my mother. Control freak of the century and so set in her ways that there is no way she could ever understand that I have to go out and do it. Just because she didn't do it, that automatically means that I can't! But thankfully, after a load of persuasion, here I am. Just 30 minutes away from being picked up by the cab, to take us into London city. In my bedroom with the three other members of our un-separable 4sum.

Firstly there was Karen, the loudest of the four, but by far the most sensible, being head girl in both schools has to count for something. It was her lives ambition to be a primary school teacher, and after having her try to teach me the rules of various card games; I thought she would do very well at it. She was sat on my bed, next to the wall, trying desperately to curl her hair but sadly with no luck. Her mousy brown hair was half pulled back as she twirled a chosen stand around a pair of curling tongs, her blond highlights just visible.

Next there was Emma the budding young stage actress, she had been in every play or production that had been thrown at her, and had astonished everyone with her never ending abilities and talents to delight people. We of course had been at every single one of these, for moral support, cheering loudly and embarrassingly from the back. She was kneeling on my bed, with a mirror in her hand and her other trying to apply eye pencil. She was having a little more luck in her task than Karen was, but the occasional yelp escaped her as the pencil strayed. Her long brown hair was loosely tied at her neck as she went about putting her make up on, concentration etched onto her face.

The third of our group, was Liz or Lib, or Lig; just anything other than her actual name of Elizabeth. She was the quietest of the four. She was a future lawyer, having been committed to promoting justice for years. She had been known to adamantly defend ambitions to men who had told her that a woman would never make it as a lawyer. She was sat in my little chair next to the window, eyes watching my TV. She had been dressed and ready to go for the past half an hour. Her long dark brown hair was pulled back tightly, the natural curls making it seem shorter than what it was.

And finally there was me, Ronni. The youngest of the four, but by far the most unpredictable. It was my ambition to become a star journalist, reporting the news directly to the people, through the papers. It was a big deal, me turning 18 (At Last!) it meant that we could all go out, legally at least. We were frequent visitors down the local pub as it was. There was no fun going down the local now that it was legal. That's why we were going into the city. Where who knows what awaits us.

My best feature, what I thought, was my dark brown hair (which was normally perceived as black, and now was, thanks to the wonders of hair dye) put next to my piercing blue eyes. My eyes, which were at the moment starting to fill with tears as I surveyed my bedroom before me. Was this the last time that us four would be here, getting ready to go out, together. It was early August of a British summer, and come September, we were all going to different Universities to study for our chosen careers. What would life be like, without these guys, I wondered. The four of us who had been un-separable since we were 7 years old.

It was Karen who noticed me, standing by the doorway. She had given up trying to curl her undoubtedly straight hair, and I saw the curling tongs lying abandoned on the floor. She got up and came over to me. With both of her hands on my shoulders she asked:

"Not getting all sentimental again, are we?" I couldn't answer, all I could do was nod. But Karen continued, registering my mere attempt at communication. "Just forget about it tonight. We're going out. It's your birthday, for crying out loud! Be happy and enjoy it, without thinking of what's going to happen tomorrow and the day after that. You can think about the holiday, but nothing else. Ok." This wasn't really a question, so much as an instruction. There was another nod on my part.

I forced a smile and asked: "Do you think this is alright to wear?" I looked down at my cloths, dark jeans, a tight fitting white T, and a black shirt over the top. I was wearing my black ankle boots under my jeans, and had done something interesting with my shoulder length hair. It was kind of half up and half down with a few plaits and a thick fringe, out of a side parting.

Karen replied, "You look great…" but was interrupted by Emma loudly declaring that she was finally ready. "Right, let's go!" Karen shouted over the top of us. A deep sigh escaped form me as all four of us headed for the stairs. Before I knew it, my bag was on my shoulder and the cab was waiting outside. It was a mad rush to the door, but as I was heading out of it I heard my mother shouting from the landing: "Stay Safe!" And we were gone.

It was at least 40 minutes in the cab until we got into the city. The lights were bright and the city was alive with activity. It was just starting to get dark, so the back streets of London looked more daunting than ever before.

Emma, who was in the front, was directing the driver to our chosen club: "THE DEN". We were meeting a few more mates in the club, and the idea of us four arriving on our own was un-heard of, that's why we all went together. And plus the fact that I was beginning to freak wasn't helping much. Karen was gripping on to my arm, no doubt trying to shield her own fear of the big, bad city; by seeming to comfort me.

In no time at all, "THE DEN" loomed into sight. It wasn't brightly lit and wasn't on the main street. But this was the club we chose, for the simple reason that it wasn't going to be very busy. Country girls like us liked the peace and quiet. The city was, and still is a very scary place.

The cab finally stopped right outside the entrance. The door was pushed open by a very excited Emma, and one by one we filed out. Liz, who had collected all of out money earlier, paid the driver and confirmed that we were to be picked up at 1 o'clock. With that sorted, the cab flew away into the busy London streets.

"Oh my God!" Emma said as she linked arms with both me and Karen. "Can you believe we're actually here!" There was a round of no's and other such squeals of delight before Karen said,

"Let's do it Ladies." And with that we began towards the door. There were two big bouncers on the door. Really tall men, who looked like they could be Mr Universe contestants. They were both supporting shades, with their tailor made suits. When we approached, the one looked down towards us, before taking a step forward and saying in a very gruff voice, "You got I.D?"

Not one of us spoke, I was afraid I was going to say the wrong thing, and have my kneecaps smashed as a result. Instead I furrowed in my bag and pulled out my driving license. The bouncer took one look and stood aside, leaving the doors clear.

I hurried to put my licence back in my bag, and began towards the door, the other girls behind me. But the bouncer quickly put one hand out in front of me, stopping me, and said, "Oh, Yeah, Happy Birthday." His hand came down and a nervous splutter escaped me. I glanced back towards the others who all had smiles on their faces. I pulled one of my one sided grins, and together we began the steps down into "THE DEN".

The floor was packed. Whoever had told us that this was one of the quieter clubs had been lying. It was like nothing that I had ever experienced before. There were people packed into every corner, and every table was hardly visible due to the masses of empty glasses and cans. And to top it all of, there was a massive cloud of cigarette smoke lining the ceiling.

The walls were painted black and there were big squashy red leather sofas and chairs doted everywhere, although they were all being used. Right in the middle of the circular room, was a bar, with its staff clad in leather to match the décor. There were doors to the toilets on the one side as well as a big steel door with beer crates surrounding it.

We continued down the stairs and into the main room. The music was load and seemed to become part of us, for I'm sure that my heart was beating in time with the bass. Together, the four of us pushed our way towards the centre, to the bar. Once we've had a drink, we'll be fine, I thought. Luckily a party of 5 was leaving the bar area, so I just sat down on one of the stools and waited for the others to join me.

One by one, they made it through the crowd and seated themselves around the bar. They all looked out of breath, it was hard work fighting through the, what seemed, never ending crowd. With smiles all around, Karen waved over one of the many bartenders. After a lot of shouting on Karen's part, the bar person returned with God knows how many shot glasses and a full bottle of vodka. We were going to be in for a long night.

10 shots later, I had to try my hardest not to fall of the barstool and onto the floor. My head was spinning and I was sick of shots. My head went into my hands and I tried not to black out. The other's weren't in any better condition than me, all looking pale and sickly. Karen was once again trying to shout over the music to the bartender, asking this time for some water, when one of the other bar staff came over and placed a drink down in front of me.

I looked up, first studying the drink and then the bartender in turn. He leaned forward and effortlessly said, "From the gentleman in the corner." And he pointed. I followed his gaze and my eyes met the dark pools of a dark haired man sitting on one of the many leather sofas. He was dressed entirely in black and was sat crossed legged, relaxing into the comforts of the sofa. His hair was a little less than shoulder length, and it fell gracefully across his face.

He tilted his head and raised his own glass. I suddenly felt a lot more sober than I did 2 minutes ago. I grabbed my own glass and following his lead raised it. With a nod of my head I drank. It turned out that the purple coloured liquid was cider and black, one of my favourites. How did he know, I thought to myself.

Suddenly, I was on my feet. The rest of the drink in my hand and I went towards him. He was not alone. There were two others with him, two men, both dressed in black the same as him. They didn't look as though they were socialising. The other two looked more like bodyguards than friends. When he looked up he saw me, and a smile came to his face. He shifted in his seat, and the other two did also. There in the middle of the sofa, next to this man, was a space big enough for me to sit down in.

I don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol or something else, but I was drawn to this man. I looked down at him and saw that he must have been in his early to mid 30's. But I didn't care. At that moment, he was gorgeous!

I sat down next to him, and looked into his eyes. They held such a past. His arm was on the top of the sofa and it looked as though it was snaking around me. I smiled at him. He smiled back, leaned forward towards me and said in a low, sexy voice, "I'm Kraven…"