Derrick had begun to crave Sonja’s touch more. It made him twitchy; even a few scotches couldn’t calm him down.
Max drove. Fast.
In his restored Mustang, he sped down the highway and both men had weapons a plenty. The play was simple: infiltrate, remove the head of the viper, and do it all under the cover of loud music while the crowd suspected nothing.
Relying on the puma’s aggression helped center Derrick’s nerves. He’d started to lose his human rationale because his mate and their child were in danger. Still surprised at the prospect of being a father, he let his mind drift. What kind of world would their child be born into? And what if Sonja kept the baby and left him?
No. He had to think positively here. This wasn’t a dangerous op with a third world dictator trying to buy nukes and use them against his enemies, this was a simple thing.
The plan Max had come up with relied on simplicity. A rival gang in the Jacksonville area owed him a favor from a different operation. He’d shared the details with Derrick and basically set things up so that if Carmela’s plan came to fruition, she’d die along with her growing army of shifter haters, including the guards and politicians who supported her.
Driving down the highway in silence gave Derrick time to think and let the events of the past few days sink fully into his head.
Yeah, he’d just met her. He loved her.
He didn’t use women. He’d had a few affairs and knew his way around a woman’s body but Sonja captured his full attention. He didn’t joke when he said she didn’t have to be in love with him but now he knew better. Derrick yearned for her love.
First things first: get her out and the band safe; then deal with the relationship, bonding, and pregnancy.
Max pulled into a clearing behind the warehouse where fans eagerly awaited the band. When they got out of the car, the smell of so many shifters clouded the air along with alcohol and other undesirable toxins.
Derrick loaded an ammo clip into the chamber of his .45, then slid two more clips in his pocket. “There must be a few thousand here.”
Max looked around. “Yeah. I’m going backstage, see what’s going on.” He snapped his Bluetooth into place. “Talk to me through the ear pieces like we used to do. Keep me abreast of everything while I make my way into position.”
“Right. Then I’m going for their leader. It won’t take more than a little creative negotiation, right?”
Max nodded. “Do what you’re good at, brother.”
Derrick set his earpiece in place and checked the safety on his gun. “I will. Be careful.”
Fifteen minutes later the band’s sound check grew louder but didn’t drown out the various conversations going on amongst the rowdy and fairly angry crowd outside.
Derrick snaked his way through the crowd, snuck in through a bathroom window, scraping his neck on the way, but couldn’t be bothered to stop and look at the wound. It’d heal quickly anyway with his shifting abilities. Thanks to the overwhelming smell of booze, pot, and sweat, his scent would be masked, making him harder to detect by any of Carmela’s security.
With his gun at his side, he made sure to keep loose, relax his body, and move with the angry crowd while not alerting them to the fact that he was packing heat. Derrick spotted an opening toward the stage, hoped to move through it. He waited, listened, and let the sound of the instruments guide him.
Sadly, he picked up nothing but sound check. The band would be warming up and dealing with the nonsense of working with Carmela’s crew—who probably had experience—but Derrick realized what it took to put on a show: a tight family that knew the ins and outs of each instrument and what each performer preferred. Only one question lingered in his mind.
How was Sonja doing?
Chapter Twelve
She swallowed her nervousness. Something didn’t feel right, not just with this gig but with her body. Aggression filled the air, surrounding everyone in a huge cloud that made Sonja antsy. Corey and Jacob had set up and were ready to go but had stalled long enough to keep the trained guards off their ass.
“Look, Carmela wants the show to start now.” One of the gruff men shoved a gun barrel into Dez’s back.
When Dez stood to his full height and stared back at him, the guard backed off. “You can do this how you want or we can do this how we were told, which is the right way. You make the call, and when your boss comes to kick your ass and shoot me, I guarantee she’ll shoot you first.”
The guard nodded and scurried off.
Dez sighed. “If I could have killed him, I would have.”
“Brutally.” Jacob rubbed his chin.
Sonja straightened her posture. “I don’t think my voice is up to this, guys. I have no idea how…” Her voice trailed off. Something familiar filled her nostrils, the scent of blood she instantly recognized. “Shit.”
“He’s here.” Raj spoke the only words he’d said in two hours.
Before the show, all of them slept as best they could, but the kinks in Sonja’s neck were getting to her. The dreams she’d had were filled with wild pumas that all faded away until only one remained.
Derrick. He’d come to seduce her and carry her away to a place where they could be free of this nonsense and she could still play with her band.
But those weren’t the thoughts that kept her awake.
The tension in her body buzzed with a newfound eroticism that made her pussy ache and nipples throb.
And she had been in a cell with her band mates and could do nothing about it. Dammit all!
But one thing remained certain. She and Derrick shared an unbreakable bond. She accepted that. She had no choice. He’d been good to her, supportive and even pushy when she needed him to be.
After he stirred up her hormones in the dream, he left.
Then the big cat returned. It merely stood before her with glowing green-and-yellow eyes as though it guarded something.
Derrick sat just beyond reach.
She had to have him.
Had to protect him.
Then she awoke screaming only to have Dez and Raj calm her down with chants.
Then they’d been dragged to Jacksonville, where one of the larger metal scenes was. Since so many shifters lived in this part of the state, it made sense. Her ability to go through with ending five thousand lives hit her in the pit of her stomach with a nauseating sensation, knocking her off balance.
She swallowed hard. “Fuck. If he’s here, he’ll die, too.” She wanted to sob.
“Trust in the puma. He’s here for a reason. Now, the guards are getting impatient.” Dez jerked a thumb to the side door where two men with large guns stood.
“Fuck.” She motioned to the guards. “Kill the lights on the stage. We’ll be out in two minutes.”
Corey and Jacob left. Raj followed, leaving Dez and Sonja. Dez pinned her with a knowing glance. “Do this just like we talked about. Slow, melodic. Give them time to feel the songs; hopefully, you’ll be able to build up enough momentum while the puma does his thing.”
Derrick’s presence offered her a little comfort. Where was he? She gritted her teeth in frustration. Her voice would harm him if he showed up.
Shit. She’d kill her lover, too. “How can you be so sure it’s Derrick? And how can you be certain that I won’t kill him either?” Her rational mind knew he was here, yet she prayed he’d stay away because of the ensuing bloodbath.
“Because I saw the large cat in my dream and he spoke to me. I didn’t understand it, but I heard the words. Signs of faith are all we can have as humans, witches or not.” For the first time, he smiled.
Her heart warmed slightly at his gesture. “Okay.” She nodded. “Let’s go.”
Dez motioned with one hand and headed out of the small room. He took his guitar from the guard and pushed past him, shoving the guard in the chest hard enough to knock him down. The guard started after him, reaching for something in his pocket, but once Dez turned around, the guard stopped and dropped his baton.<
br />
The man stumbled into the doorframe but did nothing else. He couldn’t. Smart men didn’t fuck with Dez.
Sonja closed her eyes, wished for a different way out of this. How could she lead the crowd into a darker place than many of them already were in? Death metal music partially belonged to the hopeless, the downtrodden, and the underprivileged. At least that’s how she felt about their music. It could give light in the darkness. That hope just came in the sweet salvation of death, a final rest from torment and suffering of the soul.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, picked up the trench coat, and slid it over her shoulders. It dragged the ground slightly with each step she took, but her mate’s coat gave her courage.
She wanted to sob at her admission of love for him.
She couldn’t get her mind off the fact that if Derrick was here, he’d die and she’d be responsible.
Goddammit.
The guards pointed to the stage. “You’re on. I wouldn’t want to be a shifter right now.” The asshole laughed.
She glared at him and ran a hand through her raven-dark hair. “I will include you, too, in the massacre.”
He sneered at her. “Get on stage, bitch.”
She balled her hands into fists and held back a retort. Stalking toward the stage, she let her anger at the guard fuel her efforts to find a way to thwart Carmela.
She joined Dez, Corey, Jacob, and Raj onstage and sighed. Low lighting didn’t prevent Sonja from seeing thousands of eyes staring back at the stage, at her. Waiting, dying down, wanting to do something with the frenzied energy stored inside them, they grew irritated at the slowness of things. If they could understand the perilous situation they were all in, they’d sympathize. When was the last time they were told they would die?
The opening chords strummed, sending eerie tones into the open air.
The crowd started to cheer.
Sonja let the music start to take hold of her as Raj and Corey created an aura of despair with their instruments.
Then Jacob’s drums kicked in.
The heaviness of her action settled around her. Through use of her magic, she saw blackness surrounding each person in the audience.
Sounds kicked in heavier, louder, harder, the brutality of the music mixing with the beauty of rhythm added from slowing down the normally fast tune.
The blackness around each person grew. They were waiting for something to direct, to dissipate, to remove their emotional energy.
Sonja had to make this easy for them. She had to get lost in the music and figure this out at the same time. She let her head drop, hair falling to the sides of her face to block out everything except what lay before her. She scanned the audience, searching for Derrick so she could send him some sign to leave her to her fate, but she couldn’t find him. Even their bond couldn’t help her right now, not with all the extra energy moving about the air. It’d be like finding a needle in a haystack.
The very large audience before her cheered and pumped their fists, shouting the band’s name.
Then she swore she saw an image of a puma above the thick blackness.
She blinked. “What the hell?”
She reached for the mic. She could scream the intro lyrics, breaking up the anger so she could reform it.
Her mouth opened.
The crowd hung on pins and needles, waiting for her to start singing one of their favorite songs.
Jacob picked up the pace with the kick drums, working the blast beats slowly.
Dez and Raj couldn’t play at the speed required, producing an awkward dissonance.
She couldn’t look back yet, she had to have faith that they’d fall in sync.
Jacob couldn’t keep pace without faltering.
Corey stood beside her and mouthed. “Fuck it, play the song normally.”
She sighed. That would mean a very harsh jolt to the energy forming in the crowd. So be it.
“Go for it.” Her shoulders slumped. She inhaled a deep breath, closed her eyes, leaned forward, and thrashed her head in tune with quickening blast beats. Then she screamed, lost in the lyrics she’d written about an insane clown who kills those wishing for death only to realize the clown had killed himself several times over.
The crowd closed in around Derrick, forcing him back to the entrance by the mock security Carmela must have hired. They were shifters, too, goddammit. Did that bitch stop at nothing to prove a point?
He finally managed to make his way to the side of the large crowd, fending off the occasional drunk human. He spotted Sonja from the back of the warehouse.
Her beauty stalled even the most hardened fan. They were playing the songs slower that he remembered them, but something sounded off.
Then the timing picked up. Surrounded by a ton of bodies, Derrick made his way closer to the front of the stage where he could help direct Sonja’s attention and focus. She couldn’t spot him, probably couldn’t feel him with all the extra bodies in the room. An explanation of just how strong the bond was would have been helpful but there’d been no time to research it, not with her life and the lives of everyone around him in jeopardy.
Max had signaled a success after removing the threat to the band by eliminating the guards. Honey Badger One had been very persuasive. Now Derrick just had to warn her not to go through with Carmela’s plan.
Except that once she screamed into the microphone, the crowd erupted into a large circle pit and bodies slammed into him, jostling him around. He kept a hand on his gun, made sure to flip the safety on while moving through the crowd.
Thunderous bass notes blasted the air along with the double bass drum and frantic guitar work.
Fists bumped into chests, shoulders into heads, and a few knees landed against Derrick’s back. His shifter abilities weren’t helping him here, not when other shifters surrounded him.
Derrick struggled to get his footing; random hands helped him regain his balance. He looked back to find a few smiling faces, wild hair thrashing and a thumbs up. He returned the gesture and continued pushing through the sea of bodies bouncing around, moving in time with the music.
“Fuck!” The crowd shifted tempo around him, creating a wall of solid bodies that made it nearly impossible for him to get through.
If someone discovered the gun at his back, he’d be in trouble.
If that thing went off, a riot would ensue.
Knocked around by a bear shifter and his cub, Derrick landed against the rowdy crowd and bounced back up.
The one good thing about Ark-KaotiK’s fans was that they were an overly friendly bunch, if one could use that term to describe the frenzy of a mosh pit.
Derrick brushed sweat and hair out of his face and moved forward with force. He spotted Sonja. She remained a mere hundred feet from him.
She screamed louder, rattling off lyrics at machinegun pace in true beast style. If he had just come to enjoy the show, he’d be proud of her purely musical abilities.
He had to wonder for a brief second if their child would inherit Sonja’s powers.
Derrick glanced up while making his way forward through the crowd. Energy crackled above them. Only Derrick seemed to notice. “Son of a bitch, what is she doing?”
He had to have faith in her, had to trust his mate to do the right thing. But she didn’t know they were no longer in danger! Derrick made one last push through the pit only to stumble into a wall of black bear shifters who didn’t move. They weren’t stage crew either. They were merely the ones at shows who weren’t to be fucked with. Must have been hired help from Max’s end. Good to have them here. But not so good if she gave the command to die.
The music slowed.
The pit behind him dissipated.
He saw his chance! Derrick moved around the bears through the crowd of people, careful to keep a hold of his gun.
He broke through the second mosh pit closest to the stage thanks to a change in speed of their songs. Not being as familiar with this band as he should, he hoped he’d have enough t
ime to somehow signal Sonja.
If he could get up on stage, that’d distract her long enough to make her stop singing, right? Getting through security would be a bitch, now that he saw the real event staff replaced by Carmela’s people.
Screams from Sonja continued to guide him, blocking out the noisome shouts of concertgoers. Derrick shoved his way past a smaller group huddled together. When he emerged from the crowd, he stood now off to the side.
So far so good. Sonja pranced on stage, standing to his right, drawing the crowd to her presence with impressive charisma. Goddess, she worked the stage beautifully. She was meant for it, definitely.
It made him sad that he was the one taking it from her with their child. “Fuck.” He shook his head. “One thing at a time. Save the lives of these people and ease her into a normal show. Then spring the news on her.” Right. Order.
He’d have to navigate the throng of bodies once again to get to her. He touched the Bluetooth device in his ear. “Max, replacing security?”
“Copy that. Bringing in legit sources now. Do your thing and get her off stage. We’ll only have a moment’s time between switching out Carmela’s security with ours, and if you rush the stage, I imagine it won’t be pretty.”
“No shit.” Derrick looked around; saw a few new faces far off. Guys in yellow security-staff shirts were armed for situations like this. “Do they know the score?”
“Only what they need to know. Now get up there!”
The click of a gun and shell loading into place above the crowd startled him. Slowly, Derrick backed up.
Into the barrel of the gun.
“Nice try, filth. But I am going to win this round.”
Slowly, Derrick let out a breath. Carmela! “Bitch. I should tear your throat out now.”
“You should. Then the crowd will see it and blood lust will go through along with the message we’re sending to national TV that you animals are nothing more than second class citizens.”
TV crew? Fucking shit! “You’re bluffing.”
“Am I? Turn around. I told you I was going to broadcast this hate-filled act and start a war.” Her voice was filled with smug satisfaction.
Slow Burn Page 22
