Diminished (Winter's Wrath Book 2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  Running the band like a democracy meant more than discussing their plans for the future. If he suggested so much as a restaurant to stop for lunch, one of the guys would come up with a ‘better’ option. And the rest would agree while watching Brave to see if he’d get pissed.

  He kept his damn mouth shut. Every fucking time. He got it. He wasn’t in charge anymore. He’d abused his power and to make up for it, he was left with none.

  But he hadn’t felt that extreme lack of control so fiercely until now. His one redeeming quality, one that had been a surprise to everyone, was that he’d do anything to protect Alder. Reasonable for a big brother, right?

  Apparently not.

  Finishing off his beer, Brave eyed the time. He should have been inside a few minutes ago. Shoving his long black hair back he pulled a leather tie from his snug black jean pocket and tied his hair at the nape of his neck. A glance in the mirror on the far wall showed a smudge of gray—probably from his left hand rubbing over the pencil-scrawled pages for so long. He rubbed it off. Not a huge improvement. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his clothes were rumpled. He looked like shit.

  At least one thing he could control. The fans wouldn’t care, but his bandmates would be annoyed after having spent time primping for the show. He glanced at his nails, covered in chipped black polish and smirked.

  Too fucking bad.

  Leaving the bus, he hustled across the lot, lifting his hand to wave at the people in line who noticed him and started screaming his name. The metal barriers held them at bay and in seconds he was inside, taking the back entrance and striding along the dark hall toward the greenroom.

  One of the doors along the hall opened and Danica stepped out. She blinked when she saw him, her blood red lips tipping at the edges.

  “You’re a mess.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged him into the dressing room she’d just left. Her makeup lady straightened from where she’d been cleaning up all her tools from the vanity. “Lucky for you, Gloria can fix you up in no time.”

  “Ah…yeah.” He gently pried his wrist free. “Unfortunately, we have no time.”

  “We have plenty. Lighting blew a breaker. Sound check’s been delayed, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” She patted his cheek. “I’ll let the guys know you’re getting prettied up. See you in a few.”

  “Awesome.” Brave frowned at Danica’s back as she skipped off, but flashed a smile at Gloria when she spun the chair—which looked like it belonged in a barber shop—around and motioned for him to sit. Wasn’t her fault his one last attempt to exert some control had been foiled.

  So this is the life of the rich and famous.

  Only, he wasn’t rich anymore. And none of them would be famous for long if they didn’t work this shit out.

  For the moment, the distance between them was only felt by the band.

  But it wouldn’t be long before it poisoned the music as well.

  Shiori hugged herself tightly as the lights went out and the curtain at the very back of the stage parted, revealing the huge Winter’s Wrath logo, a skull in a snowflake, which had been hidden while the opening bands played. Beneath it was a drum kit, which seemed to have twice as many drums as any band she’d seen before.

  One bass drum had the logo, while the other had the band’s name in realistic blood splatter. The drummer, Tate Maddox, made his way behind it, drawing excited screams from the crowd.

  From the side stage, Shiori could see his little smirk as he took his seat. He was too freakin’ cute—even cuter than she’d expected from his pictures. His golden-brown hair was shaved all around, except for a long part on top that fell over one eye when he bowed his head. The black eyeliner around his eyes made his pink-toned, white skin even starker in contrast, and he almost glowed under the neon lights.

  Next came Malakai Noble, the bassist, who strode on stage and gave the crowd a cold smile. His darkly tanned skin, broad jaw, and the way he moved made her think of a powerful beast with a wild edge tightly leashed by his own hand. If he loosened his grip, he’d be dangerous. Having him so close gave her a strange thrill, like the temptation to play a risky game, exciting and scary all at once.

  She shivered as he glanced her way and crept further into the shadows, bumping into Sophie who steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “He plays the part well, but he’s not as mean as he looks.” Sophie whispered to her. “Reese, and I have spoken about ways to work on the band’s image, but he’s one we’ve agreed doesn’t need to change. On stage, he’s dark and mysterious. All tight muscles, military style, and out of reach. His fans have all kinds of theories about his dark past, which puts him just below Brave as the favorite.”

  “Does he have a dark past?” Shiori bit her bottom lip, not sure she should have asked. She was here to see the band in person, meet with them after, and get the stamp of approval from Reese to start her trial run.

  For two weeks, she’d gone through a crash course in modeling. Her audition and training were rolled together, everything from proving that she looked good on camera, to becoming comfortable with interviews—all pretend ones with Sophie, but she’d been assured that was enough. Over and over she’d been tested on her ability to mimic Danica’s dance moves, but the work had paid off. She’d been offered a temporary contract with the band as Danica’s understudy. Sophie and Reese had gone back and forth for another few days and finally come to some kind of agreement.

  Shiori didn’t know all the details. Only that she’d be on tour with them for at least a week to see if she was a good fit. Starting tonight.

  She hadn’t met any of the guys yet. Or Danica, who she’d been taking over for if all went well. Reese insisted Shiori needed to see the band perform first. When Shiori admitted she’d only been to the concerts of a few small local bands, Reese hadn’t been pleased.

  Seeing that huge crowd out there, she understood Reese’s reluctance. As much as Sophie tried to sell her as a perfect fit, she couldn’t hide her lack of experience. Sure, Shiori would get to rehearse before she actually got on stage with the band, but that didn’t change the fact that a high school play was the biggest performance in her portfolio.

  Strangely enough, one three-way phone call with Shiori and Sophie was all it took for Reese to give her a chance.

  “I’ll be honest with you. Danica set the bar high. This may not be PC, but I refused to consider replacing her with the standard pretty white girl most agencies would have offered. Her presence made an impact because she’s different and talented. She has a special quality that can’t be matched.” Reese went silent for what seemed like a long time. “I’m not asking you to go up there as a token, Shiori. I’m asking you to become a presence. To earn your own fanbase. To give the crowd something they’ll never forget.”

  Sophie jumped right in. “A new talent could do that. We won’t know until—”

  “I need to hear it from her.” Reese had a no-nonsense tone that intimidated Shiori, but she respected the woman for knowing exactly what she wanted.

  So she took a deep breath and did her best to assure she could fulfill her role with the band while Danica was gone. “Danica is…everything I want to be. Her confidence on stage inspires me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted until I saw her up there. I want to be able to do that. To know that some other girl, somewhere, will look at me and know she can do anything.”

  “You could do that in many professions. Become a journalist. An actress. You’re a beautiful young woman with a lot of potential.” Reese sounded kind and supportive, but Shiori knew this was another test.

  She cleared her throat. “I could. And maybe I will one day. But when will I get another chance like this? I want to be on that stage. I want people to see me, to feel how much I love the music so they can share their own passion with me.”

  Reese let out a soft laugh. “Damn. That was perfect. If nothing else, I want to see if she can be this convincing when all those bloggers start grilling her.”

  �
�She can. She has something Danica didn’t and I think the fans will love it.” Sophie’s tone was light, as if she’d known all along Reese would agree that Shiori was the best choice. “She loves the music just as much as they do.”

  “I don’t need a fangirl.” Reese’s voice sharpened. “Or a groupie.”

  “You’re not getting one. Shiori is well aware of who your boys are. She has no illusions about them.”

  “Perfect.” Reese’s smile was clear in her tone. “That’s all I needed to know.”

  Sophie squeezed her shoulder. “You’re not even listening to me, girl. Please tell me you’re not star struck already. I’d hate for you to prove me a liar.”

  Shiori blinked as she realized she’d been staring at Malakai while lost in thought. Good thing she’d drifted away too, because as she focused on him again, her belly got all fluttery. He looked over and her mouth went dry. His expression never changed, but something in his eyes told her he was well aware of her presence.

  His playful wink heated her cheeks.

  “No, I’m not… This is all just…” Trial run, Shiori. Pull it together. She wet her lips with her tongue. “I’m excited. And yes, he’s incredible to see in person, but he’s not the one I’ll be looking at.”

  “Good.” Sophie straightened as two guitarists strode onto the stage. “Keep that in mind and you’ll do fine.”

  Smiling with relief, Shiori focused on Alder Trousseau, her chest squeezing slightly as she caught the familiar features. His long, sleek black hair sliding down to cover most of his face helped, but for a split second, she could imagine how Kyoko had felt, six years ago in the crowd, looking up to see that face.

  The Trousseau brothers all had that smooth, irresistible appeal. They were so different in attitude, but even the worst of them could charm a woman with a smile. Make her forget that they had so many girls like her lusting after them.

  A few sweet words, a bit of attention, and Kyoko had been a goner. Back then Shiori had thought it was so romantic that her sister had fallen in love with a rock star. Sure, the band played metalcore, but it was all the same. The dark hero, the sweet virgin, a forbidden love that ended in happily-ever-after.

  They’d both been silly little girls, ready to latch on to whatever dream they could find.

  Only, Kyoko had paid the price for hers.

  And Shiori had learned from it.

  Connor Phelan, the rhythm guitarist, didn’t mess with her senses like the others, so she observed him as the band began the opening of their latest big hit, Subsist. He had bigger muscles than the rest, mussed up blond hair, and a ruddiness to his skin that told her he spent a lot of time outside. He flashed a charming smile at the girls leaning over the metal barrier set a yard back from the stage.

  A deafening scream rose from the girls and spread through the crowd as Brave Trousseau sauntered up to the mic, his head down, his wavy, long black hair covering his face completely.

  The beat quickened. Rose to a fever pitch. Goosebumps spread over her skin as she anticipated the sound of his voice.

  He latched onto the mic and tipped his head back enough to reveal his lips. “Red gifts, teeth, and candy. So many innocent lies. Let me believe… Let me always believe.”

  The whispered lyrics sent a chill down her spine. She’d listened to this song over and over, it affected her every time, but never like this. He growled and her pulse skipped a beat as he threw his head back, the power of his voice vibrating through her bones with each word. In seconds the music had a hold on her soul, clearing her mind of all but the aggressive beat as Brave’s passion wrapped around her.

  Like thunder fading into the distance, the first song ended and Brave raked his hair back to grin at the rowdy throng. “Fuck, it’s great to be home! Let’s hear it for the best city in the world! Detroit, you ready to tear this place apart?”

  Screams and howls. Devil horns in the air in a wild salute. Fans pressed against the barrier.

  Shiori held her breath as she watched them reach toward the stage, crushing one another in their excitement. Being up here was incredible. Down there? She’d be freaking out.

  Brave laughed. “Let’s hear it for the opening bands! Atlas, Spider-Spawn, and Gear-Core!”

  More cheers and some clapping. A group in the back started chanting ‘Gear-Core!’ and pumping their fist in the air. Shiori hadn’t come out until just before Winter’s Wrath hit the stage, but she knew a few songs from the other bands. Unlike some shows, this line-up fit Winter’s Wrath’s style perfectly. She wouldn’t be surprised if the opening bands earned themselves some new fans.

  “Now, I know you’re all waiting for something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it…” Brave cocked his head to one side. “Wanna give me a hint?”

  Silence. Then a low hum, growing louder and louder as everyone in the crowd seemed to catch on. Voices rose, singing lyrics of another song Shiori knew well.

  Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’. She’d almost forgotten Winter’s Wrath did a cover of the song every time they played in Detroit. A few bands did, but she might be a little biased because none of them came close to this intensity. This wasn’t an offhand tribute. The way Brave sang, the way every member of the band played, truly expressed the feeling that they’d come home.

  Before the song finished the beat changed, shifting effortlessly into the opening of ‘Center Mass’. Shiori shook with excitement as Danica ran onto the stage, sliding on her knees to the edge in front of Brave, forming a gun with her hands and ‘firing’ over the crowd.

  Oh god, she’s gorgeous! Shiori bit her bottom lip as Danica leapt to her feet, punching her fist in the air at the chorus. She was wearing a camo skirt, tight little vest, and a green beret. Her incredibly long legs were covered with strategically ripped fishnet stockings and she had platform combat boots on her feet.

  Boots Shiori would probably break her neck trying to walk in, and here Danica was, dancing in them. As confident as she’d been about her ability to take this job, actually seeing the woman out there gave her serious doubts. Would the fans even accept her as a temporary replacement?

  “I know that look!” Sophie practically screamed in her ear to be heard over the music. “Don’t do that!”

  The uber professional Sophie shouting while making faces at the music was too funny. Shiori stifled a giggle, her mood instantly lighter, and went back to watching the show.

  Two more songs, then Brave worked the crowd a bit, flirting and making risqué comments about a local politician everyone seemed to hate. Most of the fans seemed to enjoy his jabs, but a group of guys near the barrier started grumbling.

  “Hey, who fucking cares?” One man, whose words were slightly slurred, leaned over, giving Brave a one fingered salute. “Didn’t you learn anything from your brother? We want to hear about pussy!”

  For the first time that night, Alder spoke into his mic. “Yeah, I tried to teach Brave about pussy, but the two girls with him told me he’s got it covered.”

  The attention got the man even more riled up. He burst out laughing. “Not you, loser! Valor!”

  Oh no. Shiori brought her hand to her lips as Brave stepped forward and Alder grabbed his arm. After losing a sibling herself she could imagine how painful it was to have their dead brother thrown in their face so heartlessly.

  At least Alder remained calm. A good sign.

  “Whatever, pal.” Alder gave the man a cold smile. “You need material to whack off too, try PornHub.”

  “You wanna entertain us? Play something by LOST!” The man looked around for support, but even his friends were trying to get him to calm down. He ignored them and pointed at Alder. “I say the wrong brother died! Go home and fuck your nasty bitch! Get us some real talent!”

  The second Alder jumped off the stage, Shiori covered her eyes and groaned. The night was about to go to hell. And even though she understood Alder snapping, she couldn’t ignore the impact of his actions.

  If this went on his permane
nt record, she might as well go home now.

  Sophie tugged her away from the stage, nudging her to keep going. “Wait for me outside. And don’t worry. Reese will have a plan.”

  Will she? Shiori retreated from the chaos, her throat tight as she felt all her hopes slip away. She’d known meeting Alder and Brave wouldn’t fix all her problems. Might not solve anything at all. Their hardcore lifestyles weren’t ideal. Still, she respected all they’d accomplished.

  But those accomplishments wouldn’t do her any good if they didn’t come off as stable on paper. She didn’t judge them, but her opinion didn’t matter.

  She wouldn’t be the one who decided Hiro’s future.

  Chapter Three

  Alder leaped over the metal barrier, crunching his fist into the face of the asshole who’d insulted Danica. He’d been worried about Brave losing it when Valor was mentioned, but now all he cared about was shutting this fucker up. He’d gone too far. Then further.

  Enough was enough.

  A punch caught him in the mouth as his wrists were restrained. A shoulder hit his gut. He was lifted over the barrier. Another fist caught him in the eye before he was jerked out of reach.

  Growling, he struggled against the grip on his arms.

  “Alder!” Jesse pinned him against the stage. His big hand framed Alder’s jaw. “Cool it!”

  “You heard what he said!”

  “Words! Nothing but the words of one drunk fucker who’s getting dragged out as we speak.” Jesse leaned against him, breathing hard. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” His eyes widened as he brought a hand to Alder’s lips. “Damn it, you’re bleeding.”

  “I’m fine.” The lights glared on. Alder ground his teeth. Shit, were they shutting everything down? “We have to keep going! Jesse—”