Hypnotizing Beat

by Katherine McIntyre

  “Look who’s getting grouchy,” Kieran responded, stepping up to the mic. “Must be getting serious between you two.” A grin played on his lips, and he flipped the microphone on with the obligatory “Testing, testing, one, two, three.”

  Screams sounded from out in the stadium, enough to warrant a large crowd. Renn let loose on the drums, drawing more shouts and hollers from the audience, and Trevor baited them with a couple of soulful plucks from his guitar. A gravity settled over him, the same one that always did when they played—for him, it was the closest he’d come in his life to peace.

  Here on the stage, he was as free as he’d ever be, playing the songs they’d spent years on while he lost himself to the music. When he’d lived as Alberich’s prisoner, he’d never imagined a future for himself, let alone one like this.

  The announcer came over the speaker, giving them their cue.

  Ky glanced to him, their lead singer’s energy infectious. A massive grin spread across his face, exposing those sharp fangs.

  The curtains swept away, revealing an arena of seats filled with people, one that would soon become another orgy with the way their shows tended to go. The lights shone down on them and undulating screams pounded loud enough to reverberate through the air. Kieran took the lead, in his element as inveterate showman.

  Trevor waited, his fingers poised on the guitar as he prepared to play. They’d gone over the Vegas setlist dozens of times, the songs familiar ones with a few new jams woven in. Truth be told, the humans would be coming to their shows even if they played hurdy gurdys and yodeled, because they couldn’t resist the lure of a siren’s song, not when combined with the lust-filled strains of a satyr and an incubus.

  Blue lights glided across the audience, pivoting over to them as they circled in arcs.

  Show time.

  Trevor began to play, addicted to the initial moment when the audience hung on the first notes breaking through the silence. He strummed away, and Jett’s low bass joined in, followed by the bump kick of Renn on the drums. The audience watched, rapt, as if their breath caught in their throat. And then Kieran’s voice descended.

  The tension in the crowd ignited once the incubus’s silken voice glided over the sound system, and the arena grew twenty degrees hotter.

  Trevor’s fingers glided across the strings from memory while he played in sync with his brothers. Most of the time, he glazed over when he played, not focusing on anything but the strings beneath his fingers. The audience grew hazy, and besides, most of the horny fuckers down there would turn this into a Pay Per View session fast.

  However, tonight his gaze skated across the crowd.

  Even though Liz and Danica were higher up, he caught sight of them at once, given the cluster of human security nearby. The distance between didn’t matter. He could catch her eyes on him from the opposite side of a stadium, the inquisitiveness there holding him spellbound.

  For the longest time, he’d played guitar for himself. He’d spent so long being used by Alberich, unable to grasp onto even the slightest bit of control, so when they’d started the band, he’d latched onto these moments. The instrument was his to command, and in a way, playing healed parts of him he hadn’t realized were broken.

  Yet tonight, as he stared out at Danica in the audience, his fingers strummed the strings even harder, as if somehow he might convey how he felt through song. How she inspired him to push past his own limits. How she made him hope maybe they could overcome, together. Because tonight, he played for her.

  His heart cracked open on the stage as he played the songs like he’d found them for the first time—like the old chords somehow became new. He couldn’t look away from her, unable to explain the gravity between them or this draw that kept him coming back to her every time. If she ended up ditching him once they turned over the mirror, he’d be closed for business for a long time.

  The song ended, and the crowd stood, half of them screaming at the top of their lungs and thrashing about, while the other half began making out with each other. A few more songs into the set and the clothes would start coming off.

  Danica stood from her seat, severing the connection. She leaned in to murmur something to Liz and pulled her purse with her. Trevor’s brows furrowed. What was she doing?

  Renn kicked up the initial beat of the next song, and his fingers followed the strings even as he watched out into the audience. Danica stepped past Liz and headed toward the security guards. That wasn’t a part of the plan at all. Out there, he couldn’t protect her—none of them could.

  Except he was tethered to the stage, playing the guitar as the audience screamed and cheered. All while Danica disappeared.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Danica should’ve been sitting back and enjoying the show. And with the sensual look in Trevor’s eyes as he plucked the strings, she had every reason to enjoy watching the dexterity she got a front row seat to yesterday.

  Yet the second her phone buzzed with a text, she couldn’t explain the way her nerves followed suit. She opened the text, the words glaring at her as her fingers and toes went numb. Melrose from Kink and Candy had hit her up. Lenora never showed for her shift.

  Discord’s Desire launched into a new song, and the folks around them were getting frisky and loud, sloppy sounds coming from every direction. Ducking out now plunged her straight into treacherous waters with Alberich’s men in full battalion mode to search for the mirror—she knew that—but she couldn’t risk anything happening to her sister. She just couldn’t.

  “Obiwan, I’ve got to jet.” Danica leaned in close to Liz.

  Liz’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”

  “Family emergency,” she murmured, her heart thumping in overdrive. She hoped and prayed Lenora had found some better gig, even though her sister was as regular as the post office. If she didn’t show up for work, something had happened.

  Liz pressed her lips tight. Not like she needed to worry about anything since their bargaining chip against Alberich lay on the stage with the boys. Liz reached out to squeeze her hand. “Stay safe.” Those hazel eyes gleamed with concern Danica didn’t deserve.

  She swallowed hard and nodded. This crew was one of a kind with their genuine care. Anyone would be lucky to consider themselves part of this family. She cast one last glance to the stage where Trevor poured his heart out. The masterful way he played each chord plucked straight to the core of her. She could sit here for the next century spellbound by his performance, but if something had happened to Lenora, she’d never be able to forgive herself.

  She’d failed her sister once. Never again.

  Danica swept through the aisles, maneuvering through the thick of the half-dressed crowds rather than sticking to the cleared sidelines. With this many people, trying to pick out Alberich’s hired men was an impossibility. She only hoped the boys would steal all their scrutiny, leaving her the ability to sleuth out undetected. Within minutes, she’d made it up the aisles and Danica stuck to the shadows as she headed for the neon glow of the marked side exit.

  Her heart lodged in her throat with every step forward. She wouldn’t even bother going to Melrose’s place, instead heading to her hotel room where Lenora was crashing until she nabbed her own. She should’ve checked in on her sister yesterday. Otherworld be damned, she should’ve headed to the hotel instead of the band’s RV. Worries surged like the tide as she fought the urge to run the rest of the way to the exit, and any minute, Danica would drown.

  Lenora needed to be okay. She had to be.

  ****

  Thirty times.

  Danica tried her sister’s phone thirty times on the way over to no avail. Every time, the beep of the start of Lenora’s voicemail recording widened the hollow pit in her stomach. Her palms had begun to sweat, imprinting on the back of her phone. She should’ve kept a better eye on her or hired some form of security. Bringing her to Vegas wasn’t enough protection, not while Danica had been off frolicking in the Otherworld to nab the damned mirror i
n the first place.

  Danica reached the entrance of Harrah’s, the white letters glaring on the overhead globe as she approached. Sweat glistened across her forehead and soaked into the band tee she’d borrowed from Liz. She checked the screen of her phone again, but no calls snuck in during the two point five seconds she hadn’t stared at it. The moment she stepped in through the sliding doors, the air condition blasted at her, pasting loose strands of hair to her skin.

  Danica’s throat dried. All she could see was the night Lenora staggered into her room, tears staining her cheeks and abject terror in her eyes. Danica had sat and held her for hours and hours as Lenora didn’t utter a word or even a sob. The silence had spread like a stain until the darkness near consumed them both. After that night, she never wanted to face the quiet again.

  All around her, the hotel bustled with tourists wearing visors and gaudy Hawaiian shirts, mixing with the business professionals who strolled by in pressed Burberry suits and fitted Versace dresses. Her shoes scuffed against the polished cream floor reflecting the bright overhead lights as she tried not to run the entire way to the elevator. Lenora needed to be there. The alternative wasn’t something she could broach. Not now.

  Danica jammed the button, the ding of the elevator reverberating through her. If she could just transport up, she would. Not to mention, she could avoid the crawling sensation that plagued her from the moment she’d left Park Theater on her own. When she rolled with the Discord’s Desire crew, they had safety in numbers, but out by herself again, her paranoia mounted to unreasonable levels. Every glance her way was poisoned, and every longer than average shadow became a threat.

  The elevator doors opened, and she launched herself inside. Before anyone else could approach, Danica tapped the ‘doors close’ button. Her heart raced as she waited for those metal doors to shut with a click. The breath didn’t escape her throat until the elevator surged up.

  The panel of mirroring mocked her when she leaned against the back of the elevator. The circles under her eyes needed cover up, and her hair rarely slipped into this messy-bun state of distress. Liz might be comfortable roaming around in casualwear, but Danica donned her make-up and neat clothing like armor to face the day. Her current look was ‘spat out by a hurricane,’ and she hated how her inside turmoil reflected out.

  The elevator shuddered when it came to a halt on the eighth floor, and the doors opened again. Danica fumbled for her key card as she vaulted off the elevator. She raced down the hall, almost slamming straight into a housekeeping cart parked in front of one of the rooms. Her door stood out at the end of the corridor, and the need to open it warred with the fear of what might await her. Because if Lenora wasn’t there, she knew—she knew—who had taken her sister.

  Her palms grew so slick she almost dropped her key card as she lifted it to the door. Her hands trembled when the light switched from red to green.

  The hotel door swung open.

  Danica took one step in, and then another. “Lenora?” she asked, her voice scraping hoarse with the fear she could no longer contain.

  No one responded. As she bypassed the narrow entryway to step into the room, the worst of her fears descended. It was empty.

  Except, her neck prickled like she’d been shocked.

  Danica whipped around toward the bathroom in time for the door to creak open.

  A short, familiar man stepped out from the tiny bathroom, the fluorescents washing out his sickly green skin even more. Danica’s heart plummeted. Jared Cragsmire, one of Alberich’s cronies. His appearance couldn’t spell good news for her.

  “About time you showed,” Crags said, running fingers through the wisps that constituted his hair. His gimlet eyes shone with amusement. “I thought you’d be in far earlier than this to check on your sister.”

  “Where is she?” Danica asked through gritted teeth.

  “She’s safe, for now,” Crags responded, slapping one of the hotel towels over his shoulder, as if it were part of his attire. “However, her continued survival depends on you returning the mirror to us.”

  Oh hell.

  Of course. Of course it would come to this. Danica flexed her fingers, unable to feel them. Crags watched her with an intense knowing that crawled beneath her skin. She hated it almost as much as she now hated him.

  “I don’t have it,” she said, her mind racing so fast she couldn’t catch up. “The item’s out of my hands.”

  Even as the bullshit spewed from her, Crags passed her an incredulous look. Despite the brownie being half her size, right now his shadow loomed larger than ever with the control he’d seized. Alberich had kidnapped Lenora. Bile rose in her throat. The monster took her sister.

  “Then get it,” Crags responded, his tone as cold as the tundra. “Alberich expects the mirror to be in his hand by the end of the day tomorrow, or the next time you see your sister, it’ll be her corpse.”

  Words dried on Danica’s lips. All the excuses, the pleas, any clever roundabouts died there. She faced the stark reality that the monster who haunted Trevor, the one who hunted her, had taken Lenora. Alberich would follow through on his threats. She’d already witnessed the results of his violence.

  “Where?” was all she could manage.

  Amusement gleamed in Crags’ eyes, a confidence she hated. “The Fremont Hotel and Casino. Enter in through the red door on the side—you can’t miss it.”

  Danica opened her mouth, all the normal words she employed vacating the premises. Her sister was in Alberich’s clutches, and it was all her fault. She’d signed the deal with the sidhe devil in the first place. Then she stole his mirror.

  “See you tomorrow.” Crags tugged at the towel over his shoulder, leaving it there as he strode toward the still-open door to her hotel room. Danica’s fingers twitched. She should fight, should scream, should throttle him. But her efforts wouldn’t make a difference. He wasn’t the one holding Lenora hostage, simply conveying the message. She stood as still as the marble statues through Caesar’s when he exited, bringing the door shut behind him.

  The moment the click of the door resounded through the room, whatever energy kept her standing abandoned her. Danica sank to the floor, her knees slamming onto the gray carpet. She tried to breathe, but every one snagged in her throat, her chest straining to the point of pain. Heat pricked at her eyes, and she sagged forward, her nails curling into the carpet before her.

  If she betrayed the band again, there would be no second chances. She wouldn’t just be screwing over their one shot at escaping Alberich’s grasp. She would also be continuing Trevor’s sentence to a lifetime on the run.

  But Lenora.

  Her sister was technicolor when everything else had been filmed black and white, and she’d been protecting her for as long as she could remember. Lenora might be stubborn, impulsive, and a bit of a brat sometimes, but she was the one person who gave a damn if Danica lived or died. She was the one who reached in and touched her heart even after she’d tried to shut everyone else out.

  Lenora had suffered too much at the hands of her betrothed, while she dated Larsen, Kieran’s pig of a brother, and now she faced execution.

  It was all Danica’s fault.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks, hot and hateful. She sucked in a ragged breath while the liquid slithered down, staining the dark band tee she wore. Her shoulders shook, hell her entire body trembled in the wake of this news. In the past, she’d remained in control, but ever since she’d allied with Discord’s Desire—ever since she began falling for Trevor—her heart fragmented open like she’d never allowed it to before.

  Tomorrow, she’d hate herself no matter what decision she made.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By the time the show neared to an end, Trevor was ready to leap out of his skin.

  Each time they ticked another song off the checklist, the temptation to launch off the stage and rush through the audience to look for Danica reared. Ever since she’d stepped out, she hadn’t returned, and yet Li
z still sat in place watching the show. Sweat beaded on his brow. His fingers swept across the strings at a frenetic pace, part of the rising fervor of this final song but also to channel the desperation that flicker-flashed through his veins. Ky’s voice crashed over the audience, but at this point they were too distracted to pay attention.

  All across Park Theater, concertgoers abandoned their spots, folks in various shades of undress as they got busy on top, beneath, and against the seats. The security guards long stopped paying attention as they dove into the fray with the others, lust taking the wheel. With the mindless abandon most of the audience sank into, the few who weren’t participating stood out even more.

  Guaranteed, they were the fae Alberich sent—after all, not everyone fell under Kieran’s incubus spell.

  They’d be guarding the entrance, and once their band tried to escape out back, an army of redcaps, rakshasa, or even pissed off goblins would be waiting.

  Trevor strummed harder at the strings, the song reaching a crescendo he rode along with like the crest of a wave. He glanced to Jett, who nodded, edging closer to the stage. Ky lifted a hand in the air, which to the audience looked like a flourish with the song. Only the band knew the signal.

  He finished his part of the guitar, the chords resonant through the air as Kieran sang the final line, the bass trickling off, and Renn slowing the drum beat until it faded away.

  “Now, I know we said that was the final song,” Kieran called out, drawing the attention of the audience. “But we’re trying something a little different tonight.”

  At that, Renn rose from behind the drum set, placing his sticks down. From his pocket, he pulled out his set of pipes. Ky tilted his head forward, and Renn joined him as Kieran slid the microphone out from the stand. He’d chosen a cordless mic tonight for a reason.

  “Join us in this one if you know the lyrics. Even if you don’t, come and dance.” Kieran gave the command and walked to the edge of the stage. Trevor placed his guitar down at the same time Jett did, and they both followed their band leader to where he and Renn stood. Without Kieran’s lusty vocals churning the audience into a frenzy, the crowd began to pay attention again—which is exactly what they wanted.