by Sam Kadence
“You worked hard today. Exceptionally well. I suspect your distractions of late have been due to young Mr. Petterson. Now that we’ve remedied that situation, I expect your performance to continue to improve.” Mr. Tokie adjusted his glasses again. He stared down at me with open dislike. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.” He motioned me to the door.
I left in somewhat of a daze, managing to find my way out of the building and to my car without tripping down the stairs or anything. My dirt-covered Honda laughed at me as I got in and headed to the other job. I worked until 1:00 a.m. on autopilot, then went to Cris’s feeling like I could purge Kerstrande from my system by using my friend’s generosity and kindness.
When I arrived at his loft, he opened the door wearing nothing but loose running shorts. His mussed-up wet hair meant he’d probably been working out and had just showered, knowing I was arriving soon. His smile made my heart ache and tears stung my sight.
He opened his arms. I threw myself into them and sobbed. “It’s okay, Little One.” His words were soft and comforting.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be.” Cris lead me to his couch, a huge suede monster with cushions soft enough to sleep on, and cradled me in his lap. “You want to talk about it?”
No, but yes. Instead I kissed him. He returned it with his usual skill. Until Kerstrande, I’d never thought anyone could kiss better than Cris, and it wasn’t so much KC’s skill as it was the things I felt for him.
Cris pulled away first, his expression soft and understanding, which just made me cry even harder. I buried my face against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Gene, I knew this day would come eventually.” He held me so tight I wished it had been him that had captured my heart.
I rubbed his stomach. He caught my wrist before I could go lower. “Let me take care of you,” I begged. Maybe it would help me forget.
He shook his head. “Let me just hold you awhile, okay? I think it’s best if I just hold you.”
Tears flooded my sight again, but I nodded and relaxed into his arms.
Cris said nothing when I couldn’t do anything other than cry. He just held me and stroked my hair. For once his peaceful calm did nothing for me. When I finally left at four, he kissed me on the cheek and told me to come to him if I ever needed him for anything. He’d tried to convince me to stay, to sleep, but I couldn’t be a burden to him.
Have a nice life, pop star.
The words stung like nothing else ever had. I parked my car on the street below my apartment and headed upstairs. The bed was made. How clean of him. Bastard. A new TV dinner, a mirror of the one I’d dropped last night, sat on the counter. No note or anything, but then he’d already given me one. A stab of pain lanced my chest again. Damn him.
I shoved the dinner into the freezer, yanked the blankets from the window, and peered into the dark. It was raining. At least I’d made it home before the downpour. The pattering made my place feel smaller, lonelier, and so unforgiving.
This was why people drank and sang about broken hearts. I dug out an old orange notebook. Pages of scribbled lyrics and simple melodies decorated the book. Still a few empty pages in the back waited for pen strokes. The melody I’d been toying with in my head finally had words. I squeezed my emotions onto the paper, like drops of blood escaping with my tears, and prayed sleep would take me before I purged too deep.
Chapter 9
THREE weeks passed with eighteen-hour workdays. I slept little, ate only when I had to, and sang on autopilot. When I did sleep, I had nightmares of the graveyard I’d dreamt of for years. Now it was empty, like sitting in a metal box, so lonely that I avoided sleep as much as I could.
We did tons of interviews and photo shoots for promotion. That Friday we rehearsed in REA’s stage room, which was sorta like a small concert hall with a fully functioning soundstage, a bunch of seats, and really good acoustics. The day had arrived with a slew of groupie hangers-on, all girls, and no word from KC. The fact that I still thought about him constantly was probably why we’d been given the room and told to practice instead of record. Mr. Tokie wanted us to each play our parts and listen for the emotion of the song. All day I’d been listening to the others perform, trying to focus on whatever gave them passion and channel it into myself. I just felt so empty, and my voice sounded just as bad.
In the first row sat three groupies and Joel’s girlfriend, Sarah. She’d been encouraging. Sweet, like a friend’s girl should be. From the stage they all looked pretty starry-eyed to me, and that made my head hurt. What would it have been like to have a guy of my own out there watching and encouraging me? I sucked in a deep breath and cast off the thought. I really didn’t want to disappoint more people. And the crappy way I’d been singing lately, I was sure that’s what would happen, whether or not I flaunted my differences in front of the group.
We finished our last track and jumped off the stage. The girls surrounded us with cheering and high pitched words. “That was great!” a pretty blonde girl told me. She had pink streaks in her hair and a nose ring. Rob had introduced me to her earlier, but I couldn’t remember her name. She clung to my arm and smelled like flowers and candy, which made me sneeze.
“Thanks. Maybe we can play again for you sometime.” Two brunettes hung off Rob’s arms. I wished I could be as comfortable as he was around the girls. The sparkling eyes bothered me more than their “girl parts.” The girl Rob had chosen for me was nice, but I didn’t need a groupie. I just wanted a friend.
“I’d love to hear you sing again. Maybe something abdullah.”
“You mean a cappella? Without instruments?” I asked her. She wasn’t all that bright, and sadly, though I didn’t consider myself that smart, I really wanted someone I could talk to for a while about normal things, like the weather or music.
“That’s it.”
“Okay.”
She sat down in a chair and stared up at me. Did she expect me to sing now? Nothing Evolution played was fit for a cappella. The only song that came to mind was Triple Flight’s “Red Rose.” It reminded me of KC again. I’d studied Michael Shuon, lead singer of TF, as he’d done it improv at three different concerts. Kerstrande stood behind him on the stage, sweating in the spotlight. The haunting wail of his guitar filled the silence when Michael stopped singing. That memory inspired me to open my mouth and sing. Only I made it mine, following that beautiful guitar like I could really hear it.
I sang it for him, contrasting notes, extending the range, and playing up the bass in my voice. I poured myself into the song with the same emotion I’d been driving into the pieces that were hidden in my orange notebook. My sanctuary. The pain and the rain, I gave it all to the music and let it run free. This time it was my voice that rang through the room, bouncing from wall to wall, changing the colors of the occupants to gold. My heart lightened. Just a little.
Kerstrande
FIRST my sire claims the kid, then the manager, whom I hired, demands I get lost. Not like the kid hadn’t said as much himself. It was just like me to push him away. Probably safer if I left him alone. My sire hadn’t approached him yet, and for that I was grateful. Tokie had always been one to warn the vampires away from his bands. It hadn’t helped Triple Flight, but maybe he could keep it from happening to Evolution.
The rain plummeted to the ground in growing puddles that fueled my anger. I stomped through them like a spoilt child, searching the Park as if I’d find him simpering in the rain. No one played in weather like this. And Genesis hadn’t come back around for days. I’d watched him work himself to the bone at that club, then go home so weary he could barely stand. Saw how other men wanted him, watched him, even tried to touch him. He brushed them all off, only allowing the one named Cris to get through the tight emotional walls he’d erected around himself. But even then, Gene’s light had vanished, his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and when he took a simple hug, he often looked on the verge of tears.
> My fault. Just like always. I’d done the same thing to Anya.
Thunder shook the horizon and made my blood boil. The darkness was rising over my sight again. I needed to eat. The world would be clearer if my belly was full. The dull blaze of color from the Park reminded me of dried blood. Tonight, the early darkness had been a blessing, freeing me from the confines of my home long before dark. I’d wasted it griping about the kid. I needed to sink into something, burn off the need. Push the darkness back a little longer.
The sound of women trickled through the rain in the direction of the parking lot. Young heartbeats, and strong, like Genesis.
They hovered near my car, two blondes and a redhead. I liked the variety. My car brought giggles and pointed fingers. No, I wasn’t overcompensating. The wheels were just whatever was popular. An easier way to feed. “It’s fast, but the ride is smooth,” I told the girls, sliding up behind them.
They grouped together nervously but were all smiles. Yeah, that would do. Three had to be enough to override the taste of him. “Want a ride somewhere?”
They exchanged a look, one stepped forward, the other two followed. Safety in numbers, they thought. So easy. I hadn’t even had to press the answer into their heads. The lock clicked under my thumb, and I pulled the door open. They crammed in back. I curled into the front. The need ran off me and into them as naturally as the wind blew. I started the car and headed toward the outskirts of town—my territory. Banished to the middle of nowhere. That sire of mine found it a grand joke. Hunt in a town of thirty-five. I’d rather drive the hour into the city and stalk the Park, which was neutral ground. Thankfully, my retreat had the privacy I required.
The blackness began to pour into my vision. I’d waited too long to feed. They mentioned their names, though I couldn’t remember them if I tried. If more of the hunger didn’t bleed off, one of them might die. They wouldn’t remember me interrupting their lives, but I probably would.
Every sound and memory faded into their heartbeats, thumping strong and fast. Soon. Oh God, please soon. Two of the girls kissed, my hunger releasing their inhibitions. If only that worked as well on Genesis.
Finally, I eased my car into a heavily wooded area. The deep forest scent sang of home, peace, and a more brutal sense of possession. My territory. I had a house over the ridge, still under construction. Not that anyone knew about it but me and my accountant. Maybe Genesis would live there someday. I really need to stop thinking about that kid.
I stepped out of the car, opened the door to the backseat, and stared at my dinner for the evening. Tonight, at least, they were mine. The darkness took the last of my sight, and I prayed once again I wouldn’t kill any of them. Still, all I could think of was pink hair and amethyst eyes.
Chapter 10
Genesis
WHEN the song ended, the entire room sparkled gold, but no one said a word. If crickets could have serenaded me, they would have. Rob and Joel just stared. The girls, who had clung to them a few moments ago, sat at my feet, even Sarah. All looked like they’d gone into some kind of trance. My heart skipped a beat. “Red Rose” was my favorite ballad. Had I just ruined the song? I’d poured so much emotion into it I hadn’t really thought about my singing.
“I know I’ve been a little off lately, but was it that bad?”
“Gene, if you sang like that every day, we’d be crazy famous already.” Joel fumbled absently with a package of licorice. He stuffed several pieces in his mouth but still managed to say, “Amazing.”
Rob, too, looked dazed. “We used to do covers all the time, but I guess I never realized how similar you and Michael Shuon sound. He’s got training, but your range is better, and you’ve got passion and depth he can’t compete with.”
Joel handed me some licorice. “Maybe we can borrow the song for the new album. Like a tribute or something. Your talent is more rock style. We don’t have to be all pop. We never really were pop.”
The blonde girl tugged on my arm. “That was so beautiful, and you sang it just for me!” She wrapped her arms around me in a near death grip. The other girls followed like some kind of hive-mind mentality with similar comments and tugging. Rob and Joel pried them off, playing bodyguards till we made our way out to the parking lot. Sarah promised to distract the girls while I got away. I liked her already and told Joel I approved. He just slapped me on the back and pushed me toward Rob’s car before commenting how he had two whole days with his girl and then disappearing back inside.
“That was a pretty successful Friday,” Rob commented as he quietly steered his car toward my apartment.
“Yeah. Finished two tracks and had a great interview with that teen magazine.” Though I couldn’t remember the name of it. I’d have to call Uo and tell her to look for it. “Today was a good day. I’m way pumped.”
“About the music.”
“Well, yeah. What else am I supposed to be pumped about?”
“Renee.”
I glanced at my friend. “Huh?”
“The girl with the pink streaks in her hair.”
Oh. “She was nice.”
Rob’s sideways glance said he wasn’t happy.
“What? She was. She liked my voice and told me how great I was. I felt like a star.”
He sighed. “I handpicked her for you. She gushed, and you hated every second of it. You don’t want to be worshiped. It’s stupid. You’re the front man, the vocalist, the focal point of the group, but you don’t want attention.”
“Everyone wants to be liked.” Even me.
“You just want to sing.”
“Sure. Having people listen and like it is a bonus.”
“At least I get it now. You’re this mega positive force, and you need a negative opposite. That’s why Petterson fit for you. I need to find you an opposite.”
He was also a guy. Rob would never get that. I didn’t really want anyone right now. I had to be okay just being me first, but I kept my mouth shut and stared out the window.
“When you sang ‘Red Rose’, your voice kicked me in the ass. Never saw that coming. I sat there thinking, yeah, this is why we became Evolution. This is how amazing we can be. How’d you do it?”
No way was I going to tell him I’d been thinking about Kerstrande. “I just sang. That’s all.”
His fingers tapped the steering wheel to the beat on the radio. “I noticed that when the label made us change our stuff. Your songs may not be as pro, but it’s more heartfelt, and you sing them better.”
I considered telling him about the new song I’d been working on but thought better of it. The song was incomplete, unpolished, and extremely personal. If he saw it and stomped all over it, I’d have a breakdown. Some things I wasn’t ready to share with the world yet, and other things the world didn’t want me to.
The car stopped in front of my building. Rob patted me on the back. “Get some rest and call me. It’ll be nice to have a weekend off.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t mention to him that I was working double shifts at the club this weekend. Instead I just waved good-bye and waited until he turned the corner before racing up to change and then getting into my Honda to go to work.
The night at the club was much the same as it always had been. Lots of drooling men begging for attention from others who were so outside their range they were on another planet. I used my fake smile to rake in the tips, and when I headed home for the night, I felt pretty good about my living expenses for the next few days.
I pulled my Honda into the parking spot in front of my building just after 2:00 a.m. and got out. Another car pulled up, the back window rolled down. “Get in, Gene.”
“Devon?” I didn’t want this confrontation. I didn’t want to lose another friend, but I couldn’t deal with the darkness that was taking control of him. Not if he wasn’t willing to fight it. And KC’s comment about everyone thinking I was Devon’s lover still bothered me a lot. I slid into the backseat because I couldn’t think of an excuse not to that didn’t sound like on
e.
“Drive around for awhile,” Devon told his driver after I closed the door. The car moved slowly. The tinted glass made it hard to see anything outside. Why was everyone so dark lately?
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
“Sorta.”
“Care to tell me why?”
Not really. I just stared out the window, a million questions running through my head I had no right to ask.
“Is it the shadows?”
Was that why he was sitting in the dark? “Can you turn on the light?”
The overhead dome clicked on, filling the small area with brightness. Devon looked terrible. He’d lost weight. His normal five o’clock shadow had seen several passes of the hour hand. His pale blue-gray eyes were etched with red lines. “Swirly” no longer defined him. Instead, the mass enshrouded him like a cloud of smoke that hovered several inches thick around his body. He didn’t look human anymore—more like some sort of ghoul who’d broken free from the grave to find fresh meat.
The thought made me shiver. “What’s happened to you?”
“I would ask you the same thing.”
“I don’t look like a skeleton with death hovering over his shoulder.”
His laugh was harsh. “That’s a matter of opinion. I’ve never seen your aura so dim.”
I couldn’t see my aura at all, ever; everyone else’s, but not mine. “You won’t talk to me then? Tell me what you’re doing to yourself?” Was it drugs? I know that happened to a lot of musicians, but I’d never seen anything to make me think Devon might be on something.
“I’ll share if you do. I’m in control for now.”
