“Then how come I haven’t met her yet? I meet a lot of women working behind this bar. Never once felt a spark.”
“The bloodline have been at a disadvantage all along, but that’s changing now,” I said, determined to prove myself and hoping like hell that this man didn’t end up disappointed at the end of the night.
16
Deva
The wind howled as the doors banged open again and a handful of people entered, including two brawny men and a trio of women in matching short skirts and snug tees. The club’s staff enthusiastically greeted us before getting to work while Nadia ushered us off to a spartan dressing room, but not before I had a chance to peek at the newcomers’ souls and confirm they were bloodline as well. It was odd that the club’s owner wasn’t, according to Nadia, but all the better that he was absent tonight. His interest in the band apparently extended only so far as our ability to bring in a crowd.
The crowd that greeted us when we finally stepped on stage an hour later was something else. My blood thrummed with my connection to them. They were almost all bloodline, the brightness of their souls enough to make me tear up as I greeted them. There were others in the audience too, but when I held my hand up and squinted into the light, I confirmed that those others were not humans, their powerful auras too stark a contrast from the bloodline to mistake them for anything but higher races.
“Hello, Houston!” I called into the microphone, elated to be on stage again, but still barely able to suppress my mild panic that I’d somehow fuck this up . . . that my promises wouldn’t hold water because I couldn’t fucking sing. “We’ve got one hell of a show for you tonight! And before you start to worry about the weather, we’re prepared to be here all night. There’s a hurricane coming through as we speak, so this might be your last chance to get out of town. Anyone who stays . . . well, I’ll just assume you love us that much.”
I paused long enough to soak in the enthusiastic cheers. “But Pete assures me that this club is sturdy enough to withstand the storm, and he’s well stocked. Besides, what better way for Fate’s Fools to prove our worth than staring down a hurricane?”
I waved up at the big banner hanging as a backdrop behind me. It bore the Fate’s Fools logo, which included the spiraling design at its center meant to signify precisely that power of the winds that made the band great at its inception. I tried not to think about what a fraud I was, representing that power without a turul soul to speak of, but I had to try for the sake of the promise I’d made myself and the bloodline.
I had Agnes in my hands, her soft leather strap resting at the back of my neck, and played the first chord of the song we planned to open with. We’d shifted the order around at the last minute in honor of the freakishly out of season weather. Behind me, Llyr was already thumping a heavy bass beat on the drums, the vibration reminding me so acutely of Ozzie I choked up a little. I took a deep breath to settle myself. I could do this.
The first lyrics of “Eye of the Hurricane” were on the tip of my tongue. One of my favorite Fate’s Fools songs, it was an energetic, dance-worthy number, that was sure to get the crowd’s blood pumping. I began to play and cheers rose up from the audience, their fists pumping in the air.
The first strains of the music carried through the speakers. I stepped to the microphone, but my cue came and went while I just kept playing, silently cursing myself for not having the guts to try.
Bodhi’s keyboard moves filled in the gap left by my lack of voice, but my face heated despite his save. I sensed Rohan and Keagan move up to either side of me, still playing, and Rohan’s comforting tone filtered into my mind.
“We’re with you, babe. What do you need?”
“I can’t . . . I thought I could sing, but I can’t. I had his soul-gift all along before. But it’s gone now. The power is gone too. Agnes isn’t even singing the way she did before.”
He glanced down at the strings of my guitar, and I could sense his surprise through our bond. The more I stared at my fingers plucking the notes, the more pointless it seemed until it was completely ludicrous for us to be up here just playing instrumental versions of the songs when the lyrics meant so much.
It was one thing to command the hounds on a single path—they seemed to obey me with only a gentle nudge when I could focus on one thing—but today I’d hoped for more, and I couldn’t do what needed to be done without the turul power I’d lost.
How could I fulfill the promise I’d made to the bloodline without a turul soul to draw enough power? The music was how our souls spoke to each other, how I made the power resonate through my link to them, and how the hounds knew to pick up on the links without me having to focus on a specific person. And even though Chaos was only one person, he was far from uncomplicated.
Maybe that was why we were having so much trouble with our search. I was fucking broken.
“Fuck!” I tore the guitar off over my head and pushed it toward Keagan as I ran off the stage.
The drum beat stopped, and all I heard was the howling wind outside for a second, a mirror to my own hitching breaths as I struggled not to break down in tears. Llyr was the first to catch up to me, but when he spun me around and I looked up to Ozzie’s storm-gray eyes, I finally broke.
“Sweet Mother, I can’t do this!”
“I’ve got you,” he said, pulling me into his arms. Even though what I felt was Ozzie’s slight, compact strength, it was Llyr’s deep, passionate tone I heard. “Tell me what happened, sweetness.”
Two more pairs of footsteps jogged up and Rohan’s face appeared behind Llyr’s shoulder. “She’s afraid, that’s all,” Rohan answered for me. “But you don’t need to be, Deva. You’ve still got some turul power.”
“Not enough. You guys should just play without me. I’m no good without a turul soul. Agnes still won’t respond, which means the hounds probably never had a chance of finding Chase’s soul mate anyway. Why did I think I could just tell them to find a man like him a mate without the power to command the wind? I’m useless. Bodhi has a better chance than I do of making any headway.”
At that moment, light clapping from the crowd in the club met my ears, and Bodhi’s smooth, deep voice rose above it, accompanied by only an acoustic guitar.
“He’s going to try, but we need you up there too, princess,” Keagan said. “You’re our heart, and believe me, you can still sing. I’ve heard enough of you screaming my name at the top of your lungs over the past two weeks to know you’ve still got a fucking voice.”
Rohan snorted and I shot him a glare, then turned and speared Keagan with a sharp look. “Is that how you know I can sing? Because I come loud enough?”
“It is a beautiful sound,” he said, grinning at me. “Want me to prove it to you?” He stepped in close, cupping the back of my head and nuzzling my ear.
I was too surprised to protest, my hands coming up to his chest, my body craving the comfort of his touch even as I mentally rebelled against his taunt.
“I can make you come right now if you want, princess,” he rumbled in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ll have you singing in no time.”
He splayed his fingers at my hip, slipping them beneath my snug black tank top and lightly caressing my stomach with his thumb. I shivered, warmth throbbing between my thighs, my core heating even higher when Rohan’s warm, solid body pressed against me from behind.
“That’s my girl,” Rohan said. “You’re feeling better already. Don’t forget everything you learned about what you are, even before you knew you had a turul soul, much less how to use it. The power you used was passive, and that power’s innate. It’s in your blood, baby, soul or no soul. If we need to help you find it again, I’m game.”
At my side, Llyr shifted on his feet and brought a fist up to his mouth, coughing into it. “I’ll just get back out there. I’ll be ready when you are.”
Before he could leave, I grabbed his arm. “No,” I said, gaze still fixed on Keagan while Rohan pushed my hair aside and kisse
d my neck. Then I looked at Llyr, heart still pounding at the sight of the other man I loved who wasn’t really here.
“I’m not having sex with them, and we’ll all go back out together. Rohan just reminded me that I spent a year thinking I was just as impotent at using my turul power as I was with all my others. Now I have two soul-gifts with elemental power I’m fully aware of and capable of using, and the knowledge to channel that magic into whatever I wish.”
Llyr smiled and nodded. “Good. Then shall we?” He held out his arm toward the steps leading back up to the rear of the stage.
“Just one more thing.” I stepped close and stretched up, pressing my lips to his. He exhaled in surprise, but slid his arms around me and returned the kiss. In that brief moment, I believed I had them both at once. Llyr’s unresolved desire bled through, though the lips that kissed me were entirely Ozzie’s, all the way down to the roughness of the stubble against my chin.
Instead of a surge of manic need, I was pleased that I only felt that sweet, low thrum of want I normally felt when sharing a kiss with one of the men I loved. When we parted, I turned to Rohan and shared one with him. It wasn’t exactly chaste, but I wasn’t asking for more, either. I wanted only to stoke that fire of magic in my belly, knowing it would sustain me through the uncertainty of the first song. After that, I thought I could survive the rest of the night.
Finally I turned toward the stage. Keagan stood blocking my path. “Forget something?” he asked with a cocky smile.
“Never,” I said, letting him haul me up against his chest and plant a searing kiss on my lips.
Then he released me and I pushed past him, body humming from the pleasant swell of desire the three had given me with just their touch.
I picked Agnes up where she rested on a guitar stand, slinging her strap back over my head. The spotlight was fixed on Bodhi, who stood front and center, singing the song he’d written for me the day before. The audience was enraptured. Rather than interrupt him, I remained in the shadows, waiting.
When he reached the chorus, I joined in, picking up the tune and harmonizing softly. It took a few chords to find my voice, but it was there, drawing the magic I did possess in my soul, even if it wasn’t the well I usually drew from when I sang.
Bodhi turned to me, smiling as he continued to sing, and I moved up to share the spotlight with him, my voice stronger with every breath. In the background, Llyr came in on drums and then Keagan on bass, and finally Rohan added his guitar.
As I sang, I kept my attention fixed on Bodhi, but my awareness spread out among the crowd. It wasn’t validation I wanted from them so much as to know that they heard what I wanted them to hear. That the magic I drew from my dragon and ursa souls and pushed out into my music had the effect I hoped.
I sensed their awe when Bodhi’s voice faded and I dove into the next verse of the song. Bodhi’s gaze brightened, dropping to my hands and I hazarded a glance down. Sparks flickered from my fingertips across the strings, but they weren’t the white ones I’d seen before. They were green and gold, like the magic of my mates. My voice felt different too, but I was no less sure of my ability to hit the right notes.
I could do this. Maybe it wouldn’t be as effective as it would have been if I’d had Ozzie with me for real, but it would work. I would make it work.
We finished the song as a band, and the audience cheered. After a short bow, I stepped close to Bodhi.
“I owe you one of these,” I said, the mic picking up my words and broadcasting them to the crowd just as I hooked my hand at the back of his head and kissed him.
The cheers rose in volume, finally loud enough to drown out the wind howling outside, but my skin still prickled from awareness of whatever powerful magic had whipped up that storm. Could it be Chaos pissed that I’d decided to take time out from his job? Or something else entirely?
It wasn’t Ozzie, which was all I really cared about, and that meant it wasn’t worth stopping for. Not tonight.
17
Llyr
She was in her element, and I wondered how she could have ever doubted herself. I found I enjoyed my own role, even though I was filling in for Ozzie. I’d felt relegated to the edge of Deva’s bond with the others so far, but the kiss she’d given me, coupled with the rhythm of the drums tying together the melodies they played, made me almost believe I belonged.
I’d always wondered why Ozzie was still fine with being the drummer after the changes to the band. He had the charisma and the voice to be the front man, but filling his shoes made me realize the power he held back here. The rhythm I set powered all the others, and with a turul’s magic, that link was palpable.
Halfway through the set, Deva did something that made me truly hopeful for the first time since arriving at Ozzie’s house more than two weeks ago. In the middle of the song “What the Heart Sees,” she turned around and faced me as she continued to sing. The thump of the drums became a perfect reflection of the beating of my heart, which matched the rhythm of the song. It felt like she was singing directly to me, like she saw me—not Ozzie, but me.
How in the hell had she ever thought she lacked power with music? I couldn’t hear the usual subliminal whispers I’d learned were a telltale sign of turul magic, but there was undoubtedly power in her voice. And that power was directed fully at me in that moment.
She ended the song to cheering, her head down and a smile on her face. I allowed her to catch a breath before shifting beats straight into the next song, hoping she wouldn’t turn around because goddamn, was she a feast for the eyes. Her brow glistened with sweat and tendrils of her hair clung to her cheeks. She’d shed her jacket a few songs ago and wore only her dark tank top and leather pants and boots, the material clinging to every curve. Rohan’s dragon mark stood out on the upper swell of one breast, glowing with magic.
She began tapping her foot to the strong, steady beat of the song that came next, matching the rhythm of the bass drum. Then she started walking toward me, a predatory gleam in her eyes. My dick hardened just from that look as she came around the drums and insinuated herself between me and them, slipping beneath my moving arms with ease and pressing against my chest as I continued to play.
I was only dimly aware of the other guys hitting their cues. Her closeness had me struggling to focus, though the rhythm was easy. What was difficult was not dropping my drumsticks to pull her hips tight against me and rub my hard-on against her ass.
She lifted her hands to my arms, her touch lighting a fire in my veins, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see actual fire licking out of her fingertips to char the wooden sticks when she gripped them. She kept hold of my hands, never missing a beat as she extricated them, then said, “Touch me.”
My breath caught and my dick throbbed. The song was one of the more explicit ones, with a low, bumping beat, and what she asked was the perfect exploration of the lyrics that Keagan began to sing in his lowest, most sex-laden voice.
I rested my hands on her thighs first, sliding them up the insides over the supple leather that stretched taut over the strong muscles beneath. I allowed myself only the barest tease of a caress across her crotch, deciding to test the crowd’s response to being teased themselves.
“Is this what you want, sweetness?” I murmured into her ear as I splayed my fingers across her belly, then wrapped both hands around her hips, holding her tight while I tilted my arousal against her ass. “To feel how fucking hard you make me?”
She groaned and rocked her hips back to meet me, never once faltering with the quick, steady beat on the drums. In front of us, Keagan pivoted to the side, shooting an interested look at us as the verse he sang ended. His glance served to direct the crowd’s attention fully on us. The spotlight moved, and though this song wasn’t supposed to have a drum solo, we were primed for one.
Deva’s mind wrapped around my own through our recent meld. There were no words conveyed, only the sense of her request for me to join with her this once. To be one with her in the m
usic. I slid a hand up along one of her arms, retrieving the single drumstick in time to hit the high hat while she kept playing with the other one.
I slid my other hand up her belly and over her breasts, only grazing my fingertips across her nipple through the fabric while we both played, the beat of the song commanding our breathing and the very rhythms of our hearts. My cock pulsed with the same beat, and I was positive her core followed suit. It wasn’t truly making love, but we were inside each other nonetheless.
When I slipped my hand into the top of her low-cut tank top and cupped her breast, the audience roared and Deva’s body heated against me. I tweaked her nipple and she moaned, and the entire club seemed to surge together, bodies moving on the dance floor in front of the stage, couples embracing as they moved in time to the song. I could sense the surging power of the wind outside, though its rhythm was different—wilder, but no less urgent.
The drum solo she and I now shared picked up as if driven by that outside force, and I wasn’t sure if it was affecting me more or her, but it definitely affected us both. We wailed on the drums in perfect synchronicity, my hand down her shirt, palm filled with her hot, soft flesh, her free hand gripping my thigh. Though we were only in partial sexual contact, the bone-rattling beat made it feel like we were fucking, like our buried inner beasts were tangled in a helpless rut, the tempo quickening and rising until the crowd roared loud enough to drown out the winds.
Deva arched against me. We paused, and the onlookers cheered. I released her breast and lifted my hand to cup her chin, tilting her face toward mine.
Her eyes flashed with fear for only a second, but it was enough to remind me that it wasn’t me she saw, but him. I nearly pulled away, but she closed the distance before I could, capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss.
Fate's Fools Box Set Page 93
