I sighed longingly and glanced at the clock again, knowing he’d be here soon. When he’d asked me to go with him to work on his music tonight, I hadn’t been able to resist taking him up on his offer. For one, I was enjoying spending time with him. And since Mark and I hadn’t spoken since our little disagreement two nights ago, I needed someone to hang out with. And second, I really, really wanted to know if the emotional link we’d shared during that kiss had been a fluke, or if it would happen again. I couldn’t help myself.
Thankfully, the sound of a car pulling up interrupted my thoughts and I picked up my purse and turned out all of the lights while his footsteps came up the walk. His heartbeat sounded in my receptive ears and I waited for him to knock on the door (only because opening it first all of the time would be a little suspicious by anyone’s standards) and then pulled it open to find him smiling at me. The blue color of the t-shirt he was wearing made his eyes even brighter, if that was possible.
“Hey beautiful,” he said with his half-smile. “You ready for this?”
“Ready as ever.” I pulled the door closed behind me. He led me over to his car and opened the passenger door for me. I’m not going to lie; it was a little strange letting a human open doors for me. Vampires are nothing if not capable and independent creatures. It seemed I was relinquishing more and more control with every minute I spent around Trey. I wasn’t sure I liked that, but Trey made it seem so natural that it was hard to question. Trey walked around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. His Mazda was a fancy sports car, which wasn’t a total surprise considering Trey was a single guy who could probably blow most of his income on a car payment if he wanted to. I was fairly comfortable in that assumption as we busied ourselves with small talk while he drove. It wasn’t until I realized he was pulling into the driveway of a huge mansion that I began to question my theory. Maybe he had rich parents who were supporting his music habit? He pulled around the enormous house and parked in a space in a separate parking lot around back.
“Well, here we are,” he said casually, turning the car off. I forgot to debate whether or not he might be planning to open the door for me or not and climbed out. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Do you live here?” I blurted out.
“Uh … not exactly. Although, I think I might as well lately.” Trey took my hand, which was something else I hadn’t expected, and led me toward the smaller building. I didn’t know what to make of his answer, but I didn’t have long to dwell on it before he was opening the door of the building and gesturing for me to step inside. “Everyone should be around here somewhere.” He reached for my hand again, leading me down a short hallway and into a little lounge where a middle-aged man with short brown hair was sitting on a sofa, bouncing a baby on his knee.
“Karatz,” Trey said, greeting him. “I brought someone along for the ride today. This is Aurora Evins. Aurora, meet Ken Morris, our producer. This is his place.”
The man called Karatz gave me a genuine smile and said, “Nice to meet you, Aurora. You can call me Ken.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I replied. “I’m sensing a story behind the nickname.” Ken waved a dismissive hand in the air but Trey laughed and turned to me.
“You’ll understand when you see the size of the rock his wife wears on her finger.”
Okay, so the parents supporting the music habit theory was quickly going out the window. Obviously this whole band thing was much bigger than I had originally anticipated. How big, I didn’t yet know. If only I could read Trey’s mind. If the moon had been out yet I would have been seriously tempted to. The suspense was killing me.
“Oh, and this little guy is Joshua.” Trey waved at the baby who was staring up at him with wide-eyes from Ken’s lap.
“So you’re the one who tried to give Trey painting lessons, then?” Ken asked me.
“Hey, I managed to paint something that at least resembles Liza,” Trey defended lightly.
“Liza?” I asked.
“Trey’s secretly in love with his guitar,” Ken stated. “I don’t pretend to understand it.”
Trey shook his head at Ken and grinned at me. “You can’t believe a word he says. Where are the guys?”
“They’re messing around in the live room,” Ken said. “I let it slip that I had an old foosball table in the garage and of course they insisted on hauling it in here.” Trey’s face lit up like a child at hearing this and I had to stifle a laugh.
“We gotta try it out,” he said, grinning at me.
“You go ahead and do that,” Ken said. “I’m going to school all of you.”
“Whatever you say, old man.” Trey laughed and pulled me toward another hallway to the left. “Come on.”
“Serena will be out to get Joshua in a minute and we’ll get started,” Ken called out as we walked away.
I had heard the ruckus going on in the back of the building before we’d walked inside, but of course, Trey didn’t know that. I let him lead me toward what Ken had referred to as the ‘live room’.
“There’s one thing you should know about these guys,” Trey said as we approached the source of the noise. “I can’t be held responsible for them in any way.” Just talking about his band mates had him grinning. I could tell right then just how important they were to him.
“Noted,” I said agreeably.
We walked into a large room, with wooden floors that matched everything else I’d seen so far. There was a drum set in one corner, and several guitar stands with guitars and a few amplifiers and microphone stands along the right wall. But all of the activity in the room was centered on the old foosball table, which had been placed dead center. Trey paused just inside the doorway, shaking his head and smiling. Then he brought his thumb and finger to his lips and let out a sharp and quick whistle. The three heads leaning over the foosball table jerked up to look at us.
“Impressive,” I said under my breath.
“Guys, this is Aurora,” Trey said. “Aurora, meet Catalyst.”
“Hey Aurora,” one of the guys called out cheerfully. I immediately recognized him from the memory I had pulled from Kacie’s mind as the guy who had been with Trey the first time he’d stopped by The Waking Moon. He had jet black hair and was built a lot like Trey. “I’m O’Shea, by the way.”
I waved and said, “By all means, don’t let us interrupt the big game.”
“I like her already.” He winked at me and I felt like blushing.
The game ensued and Trey and I approached to get a better look. One of the guys who had only been watching the game looked up when we approached. He was wearing a black beanie but the hair sticking out from under it was blond.
“Hey, I’m Chase.” He gave me a flirtatious smile and I couldn’t help but grin back.
“Chase plays drums,” Trey added from beside me.
“But I’m so much more than that,” Chase added.
“That’s true. He also plays the field a lot.” This earned Trey a jab in the ribs. He rubbed his side for a second and then gestured to the tallest guy with light brown hair who was battling it out on the foosball table against O’Shea. “That’s Jonas. He’s our bass player.”
“Hey,” mumbled Jonas without looking up. Then with a deliberate flick of his wrist, he sent the ball flying into the small opening just opposite him with a crack.
“Nice shot,” I muttered.
He looked up at me then and said, “Thanks.” His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds before he grew shy and looked away.
“Time to hit the booth, Trey,” called Ken from the doorway.
“If you say so,” Trey replied. He turned to face me and added, “I think you’d better come with me. These guys can’t be trusted.”
The foosball ensued behind us as we left the live room and I followed him to a smaller room nearby where there was a leather couch and a big mixing board, dual computer screens, and some other equipment that reminded me of something out of a music video. A gorgeo
us blond woman was standing near Ken and holding the baby I’d seen him with earlier.
“Hi. You must be Aurora.” She gave me a genuine smile. “I’m Ken’s wife, Serena.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I returned the smile, unable to resist a glance at her hand to see the large diamond she was wearing. Trey was right. Ken’s nickname was definitely justified.
“I hope you’ll come around more often.” Serena said. “It would be nice to have another woman around. The testosterone levels in this place get a little out of control sometimes.”
“Awe, but you love us.” Trey gave her a dopey grin.
She sighed and shrugged. “It’s a good thing,” she teased. “Well, it was good to meet you. Don’t let these boys drive you crazy,” she added for my benefit. It was a little strange for this human woman to be so kind to me. Of course, she had no reason not to like me. I’d just been away from typical human life for so long that it was weird being thrown back into it so suddenly. And I’d never really gotten along with other girls much, but Serena seemed genuine.
“I’ll remember that,” I said.
“I’m going to go inside and get this little guy down for his nap.” She kissed the baby on the top of his head and bounced him gently as she walked out of the room.
Ken had gotten comfortable in a high back leather chair on wheels in front of the computer and all the equipment. He was poring over a bunch of curvy lines on the screens that must have been sound waves.
Trey gestured to the couch where I took a seat. Two-thirds of the wall that stood before Ken at the head of the room was a window. This allowed a perfect view into the room where it was obvious most of the recording would take place. Trey handed me a bottle of water and then took a drink of his own.
“I promise to do everything in my power not to put you to sleep during this process.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Ken interrupted without looking up from his screen. “This kid has some amazing pipes. He makes the whole process of recording vocals way too easy for me.” Trey waved a dismissive hand at Ken who added, “He paid me to say that.”
Chapter 19
“I’m looking forward to hearing you sing again,” I said, making Trey pause. He gazed at me, unable to hide the mild interest in his clear blue eyes.
“Well, you heard the lady,” Ken said. “Get your skinny butt in the booth already.”
“No pressure then.” Trey grinned, holding up both hands as he backed away toward the door. He went into the sound room and he and Ken began checking the sound levels on the microphone that was set up for him. I glanced around the room, which aside from the desk with all of the equipment, and the couch I was sitting on, was almost bare. The only other piece of actual furniture in the room was a tall bookcase to my left and near the back wall. There were a bunch of photo albums on the second shelf from the top. Ken glanced over his shoulder at me and caught me staring at the book case.
“Feel free to browse,” he said kindly. “The black photo book on the left has some stuff that would probably amuse you.”
I raised an eyebrow but he turned back to the computer without further explanation. Vampires are curious creatures, and so it was only in my nature to go to the book case and retrieve the black photo book Ken had suggested. The name of Trey’s band was engraved on the spine of the book. Sufficiently intrigued, I carried it back over to the couch and opened the cover. The pictures in the first sleeve were just random candid shots of Trey and the other guys in the band I had just met. Ken was in most of the photos, too, which explained why he had them in a book, but not why there was an entire album of such pictures. The next three pages were full of the same kind of pictures, front and back, then when I turned to the fourth page, things got interesting. I was only mildly aware of Trey and Ken continuing their little sound check as I gazed at the enlarged photo on the fourth page. It was Trey and his band mates each holding a large black frame. Behind the glass was a giant picture of what appeared to be an album cover. The black lettering on it said ‘Recycled Coma’. To the right of the photo was a CD. At the bottom was a silver plaque with an engraving. My mind was quick to process what I was seeing, but I still had a hard time believing it. This was a picture of Trey and his band mates accepting platinum record awards.
Platinum. As in selling a million copies.
I forced my mouth not to fall open as I gazed up at Trey. O’Shea was talking to him now, (their conversation was coming through the speakers). Trey grinned at me, unable to see the open album in my lap. Still disbelieving, I tried to smile back. I looked down at the picture again, shocked by the significance this one photo held. I flipped the page and found some pictures of the band onstage. One of them included a shot of the crowd, which was a giant mass of teenagers and college-aged kids. Needless to say, I was learning a lot more about Trey in just a few moments than I had expected to in this entire day. The surprises just kept on coming. I continued flipping through the pages, finding newspaper clippings with articles about the band and more photos. I even found a copy of a Billboard chart where Catalyst was ranked number one for a song called “Filtered Ache.”
“Filtered Ache”…. The name of the song was familiar. It had been all over the radio last summer and more than once I’d been painting to the sound of it in my loft at three in the morning. I hadn’t given a second thought to which band had sung it, mostly because I had quit caring about that sort of thing years ago. Clearly, that was something I needed to change. Although, upon further thought, I recalled hearing mention that the artists had been a local band. Once again, I hadn’t given it another thought. My internal dialogue was interrupted when music began to drift through the large speakers in front of Ken. I reacted by setting the photo album next to me on the couch and looking up at Trey.
“You’re going to like this.” Ken glanced over his shoulder at me briefly
Trey looked adorable standing there in front of a big old fashioned-looking microphone with his giant head phones on. I listened to the guitar driven intro and watched as Trey closed his eyes in preparation to sing. Almost instantaneously he was in a zone. It was strange to witness, and for a second I was disconnected from him, like he was on another planet. Then he opened his mouth and the words began to pour from him like water from a broken dam.
“If you could turn up the temperature just long enough
to thaw out that layer of ice you carry around.
Maybe for a minute, just one whole minute
you’d see well enough to burry the pain that surrounds.
“You took the sleeve that I wore my heart on
and ripped it into shreds.
I should have known better than to believe
but I wanted to be here.
You don’t belong here.
“These words … you used
to captivate me, paralyze me
Those words … I know were lies, lies, lies
Part of your sweet disguise….”
The disconnected feeling was gone as suddenly as it had come. It wasn’t only the words he sang, but the sting of heartache in the edges of his voice as it carried through the speakers. Without realizing it, I’d risen to my feet and was walking slowly toward the glass to be closer to him. The song was an intense one, and Trey’s singing was fairly aggressive at parts, but the sandpaper like quality in his voice was ever present, just like it had been the night I’d heard him sing at Carlie’s. I’d been distracted by my thirst that night, and hadn’t taken the time to stop and dissect the almost perfect pitch he sang in. Coming from a vampire with superior hearing, that’s saying a lot. The minutes flew by like seconds and before I knew it, he was singing the last heart-wrenching note. He opened his eyes to find me staring intently at him through the glass. Immediately the familiar half-smile I’d come to know stretched across his lips.
“What do you think?” he asked into the microphone.
I smiled and opened my mouth to speak before I realized he wouldn’t be able to hear me.
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Anticipating my problem, Ken slid his chair to the side and said, “Here. Press this button to talk back.”
I stepped up to the desk next to him and pressed the square black button he’d gestured to. “That was amazing,” I said, watching Trey through the glass as I spoke.
“You’re still awake so that’s a good sign,” he teased. I smiled at the irony of his words. He didn’t know that on a normal day I would have still been asleep in bed, as sundown was still a few hours away. “I’m glad you like it.”
Ken and Trey discussed what they wanted to change and prepared to run through the song again.
Trey’s blue eyes were on me. His gaze was piercing, even through the glass. It was strange the way he looked at me. I felt exposed somehow, but I couldn’t get myself to look away. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. I wondered what else I would learn about him before the day was over. We maintained eye contact until the intro was done and then he smiled and closed his eyes again before he began to sing the first verse.
“I told you he was good,” Ken said after a minute. I could hear the proud smile in his tone.
“He’s incredible,” I agreed without taking my eyes off of Trey.
“He’s one of the most talented guys I’ve met in a long time,” Ken continued while Trey’s voice boomed from the large speakers. I turned around to look at Ken then, seeing the admiration in his eyes as he watched Trey through the large window. “Trey is a natural at everything he does, and the kid’s got heart,” he added after a moment. “That’s not something you find often in young musicians today.”
Blood and Guitars Page 11
