Rebel Heart series Box Set

by Trina M. Lee

  “Actually, Tash,” I snickered. “Yes it does. And when you get tired of his big dick, you’ll accept that.”

  “Whatever, bitches. Are we jamming?”

  Jett snickered and lit another cigarette before picking up her mic. “Yeah, let’s run through `Vegas Baby’ a few more times. I think it would be a good opener for this weekend.”

  We were just a day away from playing the first night of the battle of the bands, a four-part event that kicked off this weekend. The winning band would get the opportunity to record an album with a well-reputed rock record label and open for one of their headlining rock acts when they visited the city on tour. It was a chance we couldn’t pass up.

  “Yeah, I like that one. Nice work, Jett.” The sound of my guitar was fantastically loud as I tuned it down a step. “I’m surprised you remember enough of Vegas to write a song about it. I think you were wasted from the time the plane landed until take off four days later.”

  Jett replied, “That’s what pictures are for. To fill in the blanks.”

  The opening riff poured from my sweet Gibson. The drums came in next with a sudden crash. Both Jett and Tash came in together, the vocal starting with the first bass note. The sound was just as good as anticipated. As different as each of us were, we all brought something to the table that made Crimson Sin the powerhouse it was. A take no shit badass, a wild child looking for a thrill, a born musician, and even the good girl, we were a colorful assortment, and we had a hell of a lot of fun doing it. And only two of us were human.

  Jett sang her heart out. Her throaty growl and raspy voice packed each lyric with such energy and emotion. Most people would never have guessed that she was a werewolf.

  Looking around at my girls, I couldn’t have been happier with my band mates. Tash’s red hair was a scarlet flag, whipping around in time with the music. With our combined differences and similarities, we were able to bring out a sound that could never have been achieved without the four of us together.

  It was a damn good thing that the jam space was in a warehouse district that operated primarily during the day. We owned the night in this neighborhood.

  Just past one in the morning, we called it quits for the night. We packed up our gear, talking excitedly about the upcoming battle. Jett and I hung back when the others left. She stared at me with a fierce, take no shit expression.

  “So? Did you save the day?”

  I nodded. My good mood soured. “I think so. I mean, I did what Cinder asked, but the demon who was there, he said something that made me think maybe I fucked up.”

  “Well, yeah, of course he did. He wants to make you doubt yourself.” Jett pursed her glossy lips and studied me. “Honestly, Spike, finding your place in this fucked up world doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me. Not yet anyway. You’re special. Embrace it.”

  “Yeah, real fucking special. I’m not even supposed to exist. And now this?” I fumbled to light a cigarette, seeking comfort in that first drag. “Something bad is going to happen to me. I just know it.”

  “Stop being such a fucking cynic.” She snatched the cigarette from my hand and stuck it between her lips. A plume of smoke filled the space between us. “You’re half angel. Do you have any idea how friggin’ cool that is? You gotta own it, girl.”

  “And if I don’t want to?” I peered out at her from behind a curtain of black.

  Being a nephilim was something I’d accepted long ago, mostly because I hadn’t had a choice. My mother had feared the demons would come for me, so she told me the truth as soon as I was old enough to understand that my father was an angel. Together they had committed one of the greatest crimes, a forbidden romantic union that resulted in a forbidden offspring. Me.

  My father may have been an angel at the time of my conception, but of course that changed everything for him, causing him to fall from grace. Now I was the one who had to choose between the light and the dark. To be honest, I was terrified of both sides. But then again, I had serious commitment issues.

  Jett blew a series of smoke rings. “You don’t have a choice. Trust me. I’ve been there.”

  “You have not. You love being a werewolf.”

  “We bust our asses to stand apart. To proclaim through our image and sound that we’re not like everybody else. Because we really aren’t. And that’s fucking rad.”

  I laughed at her ridiculous use of the word rad. I slipped into my comfortable, worn leather jacket and slung my guitar bag over my shoulder.

  Satisfied that everything was turned off and secure, I followed Jett out the door. The moon hung high overhead, a sliver against the backdrop of the city sky. It drew her gaze.

  “One thing I can tell you, Spike, is that it only hurts worse if you fight it.”

  An uneasy feeling captured my attention. I felt like there were unseen eyes upon me. “Thanks for the pep talk, all knowing one. I’ll see you tomorrow. You bring the beer money.”

  Flashing me a peace sign, Jett darted across the parking lot to her swanky new Mustang convertible. It had been a birthday gift from her deadbeat dad, a guy who was never around enough to notice the changes in his daughter. But he’d given her a fat trust fund and now a car, so she saw it as a chance to focus solely on music instead of getting a real job like the rest of us. She squealed out of the parking lot with a screech of tires and a heavy bass beat.

  I took my time getting to my old 1971 Chevy Nova. Jett had given it the nickname: The Piece. As in, the piece of shit. That beater had been one of my first serious purchases. It was loud, reeked of oil and other fluids, and was in serious need of a paint job. But I loved it. The Piece had caught my eye one day during a lengthy and unbearable bus commute. Sitting in an overgrown yard in a sketchy neighborhood, it hadn’t moved for months. Passing it everyday, it began to grow on me. Then a for-sale sign stuck in the window got me thinking.

  Logic was against the purchase. When I picked my way through the dandelion-laden yard to the screen door that hung ominously off its hinges, I knew I was going to regret it. Some guy in a stained bathrobe answered the door. He wasn’t even sure The Piece would start. It did. Barely. The rest is history.

  As I crammed my guitar case into the spacious trunk, I resisted the urge to watch over my shoulder. When Cinder appeared beside me, I still jumped even though I’d been aware of his unseen presence.

  “Dammit, Cinder,” I scolded. “Don’t do that shit when I’m alone in an empty parking lot in the middle of the night. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  The angel had the nerve to laugh. Then he plucked the cigarette pack from the pocket of my jacket and waved it in my face.

  “These are going to stop your heart long before I ever do.” He let me swipe the pack from his hand. Studying me while pretending he wasn’t, he added, “I was sure you sensed me. Your body language changed. You tensed up.”

  I slammed the trunk closed and turned to face him. Nothing about his appearance gave away his identity. Other than the wings, of course. Those, however, were invisible to the mortal eye unless he wanted them to be seen.

  With his short but slightly shaggy haircut and his chiseled good looks, Cinder wore the illusion of the average college-aged guy. I could never decide if his hair was light brown or dark blond. At times it seemed a little of both. His nose was slightly too big for his face, but it gave him an edgy look as opposed to being purely Abercrombie & Fitch. Adding to that edge, a two-inch scar slashed down his forehead and through his right eyebrow. Naturally I was curious as to how an angel could be scarred. I always wanted to ask, but he seemed reluctant to discuss it.

  “I did sense you.” I peered past him into the dark. “I couldn’t tell it was you though. As soon as I get that feeling, I can’t help but be paranoid that it’s one of them.”

  Them. Demons. I’d spent my entire life living in fear of them. My mother’s deep-rooted terror of the dark ones had infected me at an early age. She’d always feared they would come for me. And they had, eventually. In a manner of
speaking.

  Cinder’s smile faded, and a graveness overtook him. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Ember.”

  I flinched at his use of my real name. Nobody called me that other than my mother. And unfortunately, Cinder. Ember Evans was the name that appeared on my legal documents but nowhere else.

  “That’s not something you can guarantee, and you know it. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going home to a hot shower and a comfy bed.” I tugged my keys free of my pocket with a loud jingle. “I feel like I fucked things up with Gina. I may have trampled her free will somewhat by grabbing onto her so she couldn’t get in the car. The demon there, he made it seem like I botched the whole thing.”

  “Self doubt is one of the most destructive forces in this world. He can plant the seeds, but only you can make them grow.” Cinder’s wise advice put things into perspective, as it often did. I couldn’t argue with that. He reached to gently touch my swollen lip. “You did good tonight, Ember. You will learn all you need to know. In time.”

  The door of the Nova creaked as I opened it. The noise was an assault to the ears, especially in the quiet of one a.m.

  He continued, “You would make a valuable addition to the light.” When he leaned against the car and crossed his arms, his casual stance didn’t match his reason for coming. “Have you given it any further thought?” Great, more pressure to make my decision.

  He spoke as if I hadn’t been thinking about it for a while already. Cinder had come into my life on the night of my sixteenth birthday, just over eight years ago. Introducing himself as my friend and guide, he’d said that it was in my best interest to take my place as my father’s daughter among his kind, that I was a rare female in the densely male nephilim world, and that a special path was laid out before me.

  I wasn’t so sure. Despite having angelic parentage, I’d never considered myself one of them. I was mortal, paranoid, and as far from perfect as one could get. It seemed ridiculous that I had a place among the angels. Of course, choosing the light or the dark had its perks. Not only would I be protected by the side I chose, but my supernatural gifts would grow.

  On the other hand, living a human existence would mean giving up my inborn link to the supernatural realm entirely. No longer distracted by angels and demons, I could focus on my music career, or lack thereof, and work on growing my graphic design business. Maybe I’d find time to get The Piece a tune up.

  Given my alternatives, the choice to join humanity seemed easy enough. But I would always know what I’d given up, and of course, there was always a catch. Choosing the human route didn’t mean I was free and clear of my angelic heritage. The dark sought to exterminate those who chose humanity. I would be a dead woman walking.

  “I spend all of my free time thinking about it. It’s not exactly breaking news, you know. But I’m just not ready yet, so don’t pester me about it.” I lit a cigarette, needing to do something with my hands other than jingle my keys.

  Cinder grimaced in disgust and wrinkled his nose. “It’s dangerous to put it off. You can’t do it indefinitely. Sooner is better than later.”

  No rule stated that we had to make our choice by any specific time. The choice was entirely mine. I wasn’t being forced into anything more than saying yes or no.

  But I understood where Cinder’s concern came from. It was dangerous to remain undecided, thus sought after by the dark. They weren’t quite as respectful of free will as the light.

  It should have been an easy choice, but it wasn’t. Between work and writing music, I spent most of my time partying and screwing around with my friends. The girls and I had made some fantastic memories. On one hand, I wasn’t sure I could trade that for fighting demons and darkness. On the other, I didn’t want to be a piece of shit who achieved nothing of significance. And besides, was there really a place for a rock n’ roll junkie like me among the light?

  “Sooner is better than later.” I nodded, sucking smoke into my lungs. I blew a cloud up toward the sky and got into the car. “Got it.”

  Cinder stopped me from swinging the door shut. A frown creased his brow. “Ember, I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation. I’m not here to convince you either way, merely to guide and inform.”

  Cigarette hanging between my lips, I fumbled with the radio. Maybe he was right; maybe I wasn’t taking life’s possibilities seriously enough. But I’d spent my entire childhood with a mother who lived in constant fear. If I couldn’t shrug off my fear of demons, I would turn into the same anxiety-riddled basket case that she was. And I already had enough issues.

  “Trust me, I know this is serious shit,” I assured him. “Do you think it’s easy for me to make this choice? I haven’t exactly led a normal life so far, you know.”

  Plucking the cigarette from my lips, Cinder dropped it on the ground and crushed it beneath his heel. He leaned down so I was forced to look into his pale violet eyes. The color was so pale that they could be mistaken for grey. I’d seen them in the sunlight. Definitely violet.

  He looked grave as he said, “There’s more to it than just serving the side you feel you belong with, light or dark. Most importantly, you must follow your heart.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  So many bands rarely played the same stage on the same night. The current band launched into their next song with a crash of symbols and the scream of guitars. It was loud, powerful. I was impressed. And because I’d been watching their entire set, I was also worried. Molly’s Chamber was our biggest competition.

  I studied each band member in turn, lingering on the black-haired singer commanding center stage. Everyone in the local rock scene knew of Arrow Lynch. Something about him struck me as familiar because he was like me, a nephilim. I couldn’t decide if this ability to sense one another was good or bad. It seemed to be both, as our kind were greater in number than most might think.

  I’d seen him around. We had never spoken, and I hoped to keep it that way. Unfortunately, most nephilim chose the dark, which spelled danger for anyone who wasn’t part of the darkness, human or otherwise.

  I turned to Jett and shouted to be heard over the music, “What do you think?”

  She pursed her lips, scrutinizing the guys on stage. “I think I need a cigarette. Let’s go.”

  We both knew that Molly’s Chamber was the second best band in the competition, after us of course. However, we were the only all-girl band, and as shitty as it was, that meant we had something to prove.

  Smoking was prohibited in public places in Edmonton, so we headed outside for one of several smoke breaks we would take tonight. Tash and Rubi were upstairs in the dressing rooms that the participating bands shared. I’d been more interested in checking out the competition than drinking backstage.

  As we stood up to leave, the song ended with the drunken cries and the applause of a crowd who just wanted to rock. The singer shouted encouragingly to the rockers gathered around the stage, getting them all worked up. He was smooth and poised, exuding an arrogant confidence.

  However, the bass player sparked my personal interest. He rocked a vibrant blue mohawk. The front was long enough to hang in his eyes, with the rest spiked up. In a leather jacket and tight black jeans, he was easily the hottest guy in the room.

  “Come on.” Jett tugged on my arm before following my gaze to the stage. “Oh, no you don’t. Yeah, he’s sexy and all. Right now, he’s also the enemy. Besides, I thought you’d sworn off guys for a while.”

  I let her pull me along outside. As our set time drew closer, I began to get a case of the nerves. That always happened right before a show, but this time was different. The stakes were higher. We had to kick ass.

  A group of people loitered along the street outside the nightclub, smoking and talking in loud, obnoxious tones. We walked away, heading down the block.

  Jett fired up a joint, took a pull, and handed it to me. I accepted it absently, hoping it would calm my nerves. I felt disappointed when it only heightened my anxiety instead.


  “Stop stressing out, Spike.” She nudged me with an elbow. “It smells sour. Don’t doubt for a minute that we’ll win this.”

  “Gross, dude. Don’t smell me. That’s creepy.”

  “Shut up. I can’t help it. It’s the wolf. You wouldn’t believe the shit I can smell. It’s not all cupcakes and roses.”

  We passed the joint back and forth, talking as we walked. I considered telling her about seeing Cinder but decided this wasn’t the best time to bring it up. That wasn’t the way to calm my racked nerves. Since his mildly unpleasant visit, I’d done my best not to think about it.

  Instead, I said, “One more band after Molly’s Chamber, and then it’s our turn. Try not to do anything that will end up on the internet.” I laughed, recalling the time Jett threw a beer bottle into the crowd at a heckler.

  “Hey, that video got a thousand views the first night and drove traffic to our website. I know what I’m doing.”

  We stopped at the end of the street, far enough away from the cluster around the door to allow us to talk and smoke in private.

  A series of hoots and whistles from the crowd around the door announced the arrival of the Molly’s Chamber boys. Friends, acquaintances, and wannabe groupies praised their performance with loud expletives and hand slaps. They drank in the compliments. And who could blame them? They were one of the best bands in town, and they knew it.

  “Look at those cocky bastards.” Jett scowled down the street at them. “I bet they think they’ve got this thing.”

  “Fuck ’em. We’ve got this. What matters most is that we beat Something Like Sorrow.” Holding the joint between my lips, I adjusted my boobs, shoving them around inside my push up bra and Ramones top. “Does my cleavage look even?”

  “Yeah, your tits are amazing. Stop showing off.” She plucked the joint from my lips and sucked down the rest of it. “And don’t say that name again. You know it’s forbidden.”