“Are you ready to rock?” he asked the crowd, tossing the guitar strap over his shoulder. They roared again, and I could see that they boys were trying to hide their surprise at the reaction. Trent hit a bright chord, the guitar hanging low, and I swear I thought the place would explode with screaming girls and boisterous dudes.
They started their set and it was like the crowd became a part of the music, swaying and thrusting and jumping, pumping their fists in the air and hollering at the top of their lungs. Sierra and I shared an amazed look. Everything, from their music to the insane reaction of the crowd, rendered us speechless.
Well, and there was small issue of it being so loud it would have been impossible to talk anyway.
But I sang along to their music, more than happy to be distracted from the strange, cruel voice that had filled my head.
Sierra and I stood up to dance and sing along, knowing every word to every song by heart. Hearing them live again reminded me what I wanted to do with my life, why settling for anything but working for a band would be terrible—I lived for these moments, when I could become a part of the music.
The set was winding down, and I could feel the crowd, anxious to keep hearing Bad Moon’s driving rhythms. It was, to say the least, completely awesome.
“You guys have been terrific,” Trent said, “Have an awesome night!” he pumped up his fist, the neck of his guitar in hand, and the crowd went wild, their cheers coursing with electric energy. The light onstage turned off for a dramatic effect, and I could see their figures trudging off the stage.
But even after they disappeared, the crowd continued to cheer and applaud. It was so incredible that I couldn’t help but scream along with the rest of them. No crowd had reacted like this before, and the enthusiasm wasn’t just intoxicating, it was infectious.
Then it started.
“Encore, encore, encore…”
I bit my lip, knowing full well it was unlikely they’d be allowed to come back on for an encore. Opening bands rarely did because it could mess up the schedule. But the crowd persisted, growing louder and louder until their pleas were almost deafening.
Sierra started cheering for an encore beside me, pumping a closed fist forward with each call of “encore.” She smirked at me and then winked, encouraging me to join the raucous racket. I picked up my hand and made a small fist, joining in the loud roar of, “Encore, encore, encore…”
And then, much to my astonishment, the blue lights of the stage came on. The chant erupted into joyous cheers, and the guys came back. Trent in the forefront, a deliriously happy grin on his sexy face.
“Thank you!” he said, throwing his guitar strap back over his shoulder. He waited until the cheers died down enough that he could talk, still beaming, a grin stretching from ear to ear.
“This last song will be accompanied by a very talented, beautiful lady, who made this night possible. If you could all kindly help that girl at the merch table with the red shirt on to the stage.”
My jaw dropped in shock as the crowd turned to me, and Sierra came up from behind me, pushing me towards some strange dude with a mohawk and an outstretched hand.
I couldn’t even process what was happening as he and some other guy lifted me up into the crowd, sending my body towards a sea of outstretched hands, the heat of pressed up bodies beneath me as I sailed towards the stage.
Because this wasn’t me. This wasn’t my life.
‘What the hell is happening?!’ I thought, a million hands touching my body.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll put you in your place,’ came the nasty, hissing voice. I was gripped with paralyzing fear, but my cry was lost in the roaring sea of people.
Before I could even get my mind on straight, I felt my side hit something hard and inhuman. A floor. I looked up to see Trent, smiling, with an outstretched hand. Then his face changed.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
I nodded, and then turned to the undulating sea of faces, suddenly filled with another sort of fright.
Stage fright.
“Oh my God, what am I doing here,” I mumbled. The last time I faced this many people was my piano recital in seventh grade. I slammed a c chord in the middle of the recital and ran off (even though there was no c chord in the entire piece).
Needless to say, it went terribly and I never had another one again.
The stage manager rushed out with an extra mike, grinning as he handed it to me. I could hardly process what was going on when Brandon started a familiar bass line. I looked to Trent, who strummed the first chord to my favorite song and nodded in my direction.
I didn’t have a second to decide, I just reacted.
“Where we’ve been,
And where we are,”
The words flowed through me like a coursing river, alive and full of magic. I closed my eyes, and felt my nerves dissipate into energy, into excitement. All that was with me was the music. The music, and Trent.
“Has no end
Like the night’s sky”
Trent joined me, his low, trembling voice playing a octave below mine, melding our voices into perfect harmony.
“I want to belong
To you and the stars
I want to carve
Out forever in the milky way.”
I opened my eyes, saw the swaying lights of cellphones and lighter flames, and my heart filled with tender bliss. I could feel Trent, his happiness hot and overflowing like my own. I turned to him, catching his gaze and holding it, his eyes dark and soulful in the ocean blue stage lights.
“I don’t wanna be
If I can’t be with you
I don’t wanna be
If you’re not home”
I stopped, leaving him to sing the final line of the chorus alone:
“Because I live inside you.”
The crowd burst into cheers as Martin broke off into the guitar solo, and I felt hot tears brim up to my eyes. It was like the song was written for us before we were even together.
I realized then that even if I could step away from the bond we had, I didn’t want to. I never wanted to. Trent was meant to be a part of me forever.
And with that, I sang more powerfully than I ever thought possible, and Trent joined me, an emotion-driven power ballad driving the ringing strings to louder, more passionate cries.
The crowd went silent, and all I could hear was us.
The final note came, and we harmonized over the last chord, our voices soaring out into the air, combining into one beautiful, intoxicating sound. I lost myself there, even when it was over, only to be pulled out of it by the deafening roar of the crowd.
“Holy crap,” I muttered, completely shell-shocked by what had just happened. I felt Trent’s warm, sweaty arm come over my shoulder, squeezing me towards his side as he raised his guitar to the crowd.
‘Go ahead, wave to them.’ He told me.
I lifted my hand and smiled, euphoria washing over me. It was like something from a dream, and though I could hardly make out one face from another, I could feel their energy and love.
It was completely awesome.
“Be safe tonight, Deston!” Brandon called into the microphone, referring to the storm.
Trent pulled my hand towards backstage, and stupefied, like a complete dolt, I followed, trying my best not to trip over a cord unsuccessfully. I gracefully fell on my face, killing the perfect buzz. But only for a second really. As soon as Trent pulled me back up, inspecting me for bruises, I flashed him a smile and then laughed.
“That was insane!” I screamed giddily as soon as words came back to me.
“You were pretty great,” he admitted, pulling me in for a quick kiss.
“Um, hello, you were part of that too.”
“Hey, um, was that part of my birthday surprise? Because it totally rocked!” Brandon squealed in excitement, pulling me in for a hug.
“If it is, thank Trent. I had no hand in planning that.” I shook my head, unable to wipe the smile off
my beaming face.
But then I felt a terrible thudding in my brain, sharp and shrill. It was like someone was pulling my mind in different directions and screaming.
I fell to floor, pulling my hands over my head and burying my face into the crook of my arms.
I felt hands on my shoulders, but I couldn’t break free from the jarring voice in my head—it was like someone was laughing, wickedly, evilly.
Inside of me.
And then I couldn’t hear anymore.
There was a shadow of someone on the floor, stretched out long as the sunset passed through the window, a golden orange light.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” said a dark-haired girl with fierce blue eyes. She was beyond angry—their was hell fire in her gaze.
“Whatever,” a girl with white blonde hair said, rolling her eyes. “What does it matter? ”
“When you bend the rules of the exchange, there are consequences. I gave you enough power to do what we agreed upon—you were not to speak to her.”
The blonde girl sneered, flouncing on an old bar stool and rolling her eyes. The decrepit room was getting darker now, highlighting its menacing qualities.
“So? What does it matter?”
“Because, you imbecile, if this is done incorrectly, your stupid pack can find out. And if they find out, they can take measures to protect her. If I invest all this energy into a failure, and my secretive charm against my own knights fails, I could be exiled—”
“Then why the hell are you doing this?” The blonde twirled a lock around her thin finger, a look of annoyance flitting across her face. “What’s the point?”
“The point is that if I succeed I could be the next head priestess, I get all the glory—”
“So what if they find out? You can still just end it anyway, can’t you?”
The raven-haired girl took several steps forward, staring the other girl down. She pointed an accusing finger into her chest, lowering her face to glower at her.
“If they find out, they’ll do everything they can to keep her away from me. And if I can’t sacrifice her, then I can’t make this happen.”
“Sacrifice her?” The blonde girl stood up slowly, confusion and terror in her eyes. “Wait…what do you mean? Wh-what does that even mean? Like you’re going to, what…kill her?” she laughed nervously.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The dark-haired girl sneered.
“But I thought…I thought you were just going to break the bond…”
“There’s only one way to do that, you little brat, and that’s through death.”
Chapter Seven
“Bailey,” Brandon whispered, hovering above me. There was deep look of concern etched in his face. I opened my mouth to speak, but coughed instead. I forced myself to sit up, realizing with a dizzy turn of my head that I was in Trent’s living room, laying on the old sofa.
And I was sweating profusely.
“Hey,” I managed. “What happened?”
“You passed out, “ he said grimly. “After the concert…you said someone was hurting you.”
“I said that?” I groaned, bringing a hand to my head. It was incredibly warm.
“Yeah…it was scary,” Brandon said in a hushed, grim voice. Then Sierra entered the room, a mug in her hands.
“Oh! You’re up!” she rushed over to me, spilling the light brown liquid on her arm in her haste. “Oh shit!”
I tried to laugh but it came out as hoarse and dry. “Jeez…I sound awesome.”
Sierra winced, placing the mug down on the coffee table with a thud. “Ugh, well I’m glad I made you laugh.”
“I had the strangest dream…” I rubbed my temples slowly. There was still echoes of the searing pain, but I could only catch glimpses of it.
“Hold on, lemme get Nick and Trent,” Brandon said, quickly shooting up and running to the other side of the room, only to yell out,
“She’s up! Guys!”
I moaned, bringing my hands to my ears. “Really, Brandon?”
“Sorry,” he said, looking back to me sheepishly. Trent came into the room, rushing over to me with a fiercely protective and concerned look in his eyes. He knelt down before me, placing a hand gingerly on my cheek as he searched my face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, deeply serious.
“No great,” I admitted. Just then Nick and Martin came in. Martin looked slightly confused, and he sat down in the corner without saying a single word. Nick, on the other hand, chose the arm chair adjacent to our couch and scooted it closer.
“What happened, Bailey, can you tell us?”
I searched my mind, trying to find the words. “Honestly…well it started when I was at the merch table…and I heard this voice in my head. It was a woman’s voice, it was saying weird things…”
“What did it say?” Nick pressed. Trent gave him a warning glance, but I waved him off to let him know I was okay.
“To be honest, I can’t quite remember but it….well it almost sounded like Lola,” I admitted, biting my lip in anticipation. “I mean, I don’t know though, that’s a huge claim to make.”
Nick and Trent exchanged a glance. “Okay, and then when you passed out…did you have any dreams?”
“I…I did,” I admitted. “But I can hardly remember it…I know it involved people talking in a dingy room…but really, not much more than that.”
“Maybe you picked up on Lola,” Trent said hopefully.
“No,” Nick shook his head. “That wouldn’t explain the weird voice.”
“But then, what could it have been?” Trent began to look frustrated, angry even. I grabbed his hand in mine and caressed the back with my thumb.
“I think someone’s interfering. Someone with magic,” Nick speculated.
“But who would—oh,” Trent said, nodding slowly. “Right. Cyrus.”
“You think they have something to do with this?” A knot formed in my throat. I didn’t want my past to follow me everywhere, but it seemed like something way out of my control.
I was bound to it.
“Who else would have any beef with you? It seems most likely that they’re unhappy with the human and wolf pairing…I mean, we don’t have an explicit agreement with them about anything, but they tend to behave as if they have to enforce a set of rules, you know. Human and werewolf affairs should remain separate in their eyes,” Nick said.
“But…” I searched desperately in my mind for something else to cling onto. Anything. “What about Lark? What about her? Maybe she’s doing something to me. That’s possible, right?”
“Thing is,” Nick said slowly, “Lark is a vampire. She wouldn’t have the ability to enter your mind like that. But her involvement is pretty fishy—I mean, I wouldn’t put it past her or Cyrus to fraternize. They’ve been known to use the very creatures they despise to further their cause.”
“And she’s been known to do anything just to fuck shit up,” Trent grumbled. The ferocity in his steely eyes was almost frightening. But I had no idea what to say to make him feel better. This wasn’t exactly a normal relationship issue.
“It’s definitely possible…what concerns me is that you say you heard Lola’s voice,” Nick looked past me for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. “They could be fabricating her voice, which may mean that they have her. There could be a trap. It’s probably best if you don’t leave here until we figure things out.” Nick gave me a strong look. It was like he knew I was already screaming in my mind. Because another version of house arrest was the last thing I wanted.
“Fine,” I grimaced, muttering between my teeth. “But you guys can’t keep me in the dark about everything. I’ll go nuts.”
“That’s fair.” Nick nodded his head curtly. But it was like he had more on his mind than he was telling me. But, the more I got to know Nick, the more I came to realize that this was almost always the case.
“I picked up her scent last night,” Brandon spoke up from the other side of the r
oom. “By the mangroves. I mean, it was super faint, but…I had been there a few days before and I didn’t pick up anything.”
“We should go then. Together, the three of us,” Trent said quickly, standing up from the couch.
Nick stayed quiet for a moment. “Fine, but we should leave Mac a text or voicemail, so he knows what’s going on once he gets off work. Martin, Sierra, I don’t want to obligate you to anything, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping Bailey company…” he looked over at me hesitantly.
“Yes,” I nodded enthusiastically. The thought of staying cooped up in the little house alone was already driving me nuts. “I’d like that.”
Nick nodded, and excused himself to collect his things. Trent came over to give me a swift kiss.
“Just make sure to get back around midnight. Before the storm hits, okay?” I pleaded.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said as I latched on him for a big hug.
“Go find her before something happens,” I said, my mouth going dry at the thought. Because for some reason, I felt like I knew that something was already happening, I just didn’t know what.
Martin, Sierra and I spent the evening watching TV and playing board games after we called our parents to let them know about our whereabouts—Allison never showed up, so I assumed she met up with the guys or was avoiding home completely. But the three of us stayed clear of talking about her, or anything else related to lupine issues.
We were working our hardest to act like everything was normal. Occasionally I’d catch a glimpse of Martin’s face, or a strained smile from Sierra, and I knew we were all thinking about it. But we managed to keep from saying a single thing about it for a while.
Sierra stayed overnight with me, and we laid on the living room floor on a large, cozy quilt. Once Martin left it was like a veil lifted and we were suddenly free.
“I thought they would be home by now,” Sierra said, hugging a pillow to her chest. I could tell she was nervous.
“Yeah,” I admitted, “me too.”
“And it’s just so weird that Fun Aim talked about you on their blog…it’s...suspicious. Like a really extreme back-handed compliment, you know?” she said, staring up at the ceiling, a pensive look on her face.
Bad Storm Page 10
