James and Annika shared a glance and grinned. They couldn’t argue with their drummer. Even if it had been a long and bumpy road throughout Europe, he’d planned the grand finale of their tour perfectly. He’d networked with a popular Tokyo group to help with transporting their gear to and from the airport in exchange for being the opening band that night. Since it was their first time in Japan, he’d scheduled for them to arrive a couple days before the show to enjoy the city.
Yesterday they had the surreal experience of being recognized by a cosplayer dressed up in a dark blue wig. Charlie was taller than average with sandy blonde hair, so he was already hard to miss, but Annika’s signature bright red hair had a way of getting attention wherever she went. When they’d heard the scream behind them Tripp had gone into high-alert and pulled her close to his body, only to realize that it was just a high school girl enthusiastically showing them her phone. There on the screen was a picture of the album cover that Patti had designed, proving that they were featured prominently in the girl’s music collection. She’d fumbled through her colorful backpack and then asked Annika to autograph the first paper she pulled out of her bag. Annika had her doubts about covering the girl’s math homework with her name written out in sparkly purple marker, but her raving fan couldn’t care less. She was absolutely overjoyed, and it was that pure happiness that helped fuel Annika for their upcoming show.
There was a firm knock on the door and then Tripp let himself in.
“Big crowd out there tonight,” he remarked.
“Bigger than the one in Rotterdam?”
“Oh yeah. Maybe twice that size. Maybe more.”
Annika tried not to let the numbers overwhelm her, but she couldn’t help it. As much as she was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed and going back to a somewhat normal routine, there was a unique camaraderie, resilience, and self-reliance that touring outside of America had brought out in her. Some of it was the result of last-minute negotiations with promoters that either led to the band sleeping in a hotel or sleeping on the promoter’s living room floor, club owners’ floors, or fans’ floors. Then there was the crapshoot when it came to backstage setups. Some were great and some were just plain awful. Some had couches and catering while others had folding chairs and warm beer.
Rather than tap into the bank accounts that her estranged husband had set up ages ago, Annika wanted to try to get by on her own as much as possible. That meant being modest in their requests when there was actually a catering budget. They passed on ordering Dom Pérignon and chose to wrap up uneaten sandwiches for breakfast the next day instead. It became the new normal for her to wake up and not know what country they were in, although the days’ events usually played out in a similar fashion. One quick glance at the itinerary on her phone usually answered most of their questions, although things had a habit of not staying on schedule.
Fans were frequently waiting to take them out after the show, which was usually a thrill, but it could be dicey when James, Charlie and Annika didn’t know the lay of the land, the language, or what exact time they were supposed to hit the road the next day. The hotel parties had been the most fun, but even with two bodyguards Annika wasn’t about to throw caution to the wind and have more than a single glass of wine. It simply wasn’t smart or safe for a woman to get drunk in a strange country, surrounded by people she didn’t know.
Her hobby was also transitioning into her career, which meant that she depended on her voice more than ever before. That meant taking care of herself more than she ever had in the past. Every morning she went for her daily jog with Tripp and Adams while James and Charlie slept in. And while the guys crammed their mouths full of sausage and cheese-stuffed croissants at breakfast, Annika stuck to fruit and oatmeal, or a veggie omelet if it was available. When the guys chugged gourmet coffee with tons of cream and sugar, she grudgingly stuck to caffeine-free herbal tea because it was better for her vocal cords, or hot water with lemon and honey. Touring Europe without indulging in unlimited wine and cheese and decadent foods covered in rich sauces wasn’t the hardest part, though. It was the days off that were next to unbearable.
That meant an entire day of keeping her mind occupied…an entire day to not think about the reasons why she’d thrown herself back into her music 150%. If James and Charlie were dedicated to the future of their careers, Annika was obsessed. On top of her self-imposed dietary restrictions and the regimen of her daily runs, she was the one arranging for drivers and renting out band vans and trying to find a decent place to sleep every night. She would’ve been content to end their tour anywhere in Europe, but Charlie had insisted on his dream of playing in Tokyo. He’d even bought the same shirt that Talvi owned, which read “I’m huge in Japan.”
Now they were in their dressing room, where he was putting it on. A pang of anguish tore at her heartstrings, but Annika would never be able to reconcile her conflicting emotions when it came to Talvi. Or Finn, for that matter. She loved them and hated them both, and now she was caught in a perpetual limbo between the two. As far as she was concerned, that was how it was going to stay. The only thing loud enough to drown out the nagging voices in her head was the sound of her guitar, James’s keyboard, and Charlie’s drums thumping in the background.
“Did you hear me, hon?” Tripp said a little louder than usual. “You’re up.”
James and Charlie were already on their feet with bottles of spring water in their hands and determined expressions on their faces. Annika grabbed one of her multitude of lip glosses and applied a healthy amount to her lips. Then she slipped on her glittering midnight blue velvet jacket before getting out of her chair and joining them.
The way she saw it, there wasn’t any other feeling in the world that compared to putting one hot pink high heel in front of the other and approaching the stage. Maybe it was similar to the sense of an impending orgasm, what with the unpredictable thrill and the ball of nerves gathering in the pit of her stomach, only to be released in a blazing rush of sweaty endorphins that spread all over her entire body. Yeah, maybe it was like that. Maybe better.
It was a decent-sized venue, with enough staff available to run another quick sound check after the opening band had finished. Purple lights had been turned down low and the space had quieted down. With just enough light to keep her from tripping over cables, microphone stands, and pedalboards, Annika stepped onto the dark stage and found her guitar nestled safely on its stand. Her gorgeous Black Beauty had stayed home…the coveted collectible Les Paul was too valuable to take on the road, so a newer Gretsch had taken its place. Annika slipped the strap over her shoulder, then pulled out her waist-length hair and tossed it free.
The movement of her arm made the dark purple lights catch on the rhinestones that spilled down her shoulders, reflecting it back into the crowd. Cheers erupted from the people in front of her, and the screens of phones lit up their faces in eerie bluish-green lights. As more of the audience realized who was now on stage, the cell phone lights began to disappear while the cheers grew louder. But as loud as they were, it was still the calm before the storm. James took his place behind the keyboard, and Charlie settled into his drum throne. Annika’s left arm tingled and buzzed in anticipation as she positioned her fingertips over the frets. There was the anticipated crack from Charlie’s sticks as he counted out loud…”One, two, three, FOUR!”
Suddenly a flash of yellow and pink light filled the room as his drums pounded harder and harder across the stage, then into her chest, under her feet, and through her entire body. Right on cue, notes of music spilled like water from her guitar and splashed like rain from James’s keystrokes. They poured out of her throat and drenched the crowd with light and song and a spell like a veil of exhilaration and wonder. The people screamed for more, and she wailed and crooned like the siren she was, luring them closer and closer to her mystical shore with her enchanting voice. Just like ships crashing into rocks, the crowd pushed themselves against the stage to get as close to her as they could.
Promises were made between her mesmerizing mouth and their hungry hearts. Her adoring fans begged for more; they shouted for her to deliver it louder and longer; they whistled and screamed and roared and it still wasn’t enough to satisfy them.
One song drifted into the next, with only a brief pause here and there for a drink of water or to wipe the sweat from her forehead and her hands. She forgot about Tripp and Adams watching close from a few short steps away, and she forgot about the ring permanently attached to her finger. For a few brief moments, she even forgot about the writing partner who’d given her that ring until the end of the night when it came time to play the one song that had launched them out of obscurity and into these very spotlights. Annika had written the melody, but it was Talvi who had given her the words. Like a sweet poison, they too spilled out of her lips, medicating the masses who were now overcome with so much emotion that some of them were being brought to tears. They stared up at Annika in hypnotized wonder and awe, longing to be closer to this experience than humanly possible. And as much as it hurt her to sing those lyrics, they were so exalted and so deeply loved by so many that it brought her a bittersweet joy every time she performed them at the end of the night.
I never thought I could feel such devotion,
Then my love got in the way
Intoxicating like a mystical potion
And I knew not what to say
* * *
You know I tried to
Resist you
But when you kissed me
Like lovers do
Oh I knew…it was only a matter of time
Before you would be mine…
The audience went absolutely wild as the last notes fell upon their ears. Teenage schoolgirls were sobbing and begging for an encore while they wrung their anxious hands. Their male counterparts clapped and whistled as Annika grinned wide and thanked them with a well-rehearsed, “Domo arigato gozaimasu!” She gave a number of gracious bows along with James and Charlie before they walked off the stage.
While James and Charlie wandered into the crowd to schmooze and sign autographs for their Japanese fans, Tripp and Adams escorted Annika back to the dressing room. They made sure it was still secure and then took their places outside her door. After hanging up her blue velvet jacket, she toweled off the sweat from her forehead, then grabbed another bottle of water and sank into the chair at her dressing room table. After taking a long drink, her fingers began to corral the various containers of lip gloss and eyeshadow into her makeup bag. Part of her wanted to go outside and drink and be merry and revel in the after party knowing that her bodyguards would watch over her as they always did. But the other part of her just wanted to go back to the hotel and take a long, hot shower. Better still—a long, hot bath and a glass of Barolo. Nothing sounded better than that.
She imagined rinsing all the styling products out of her hair and washing the makeup from her face, and then slipping into a snuggly pair of flannel pajamas, crawling into a soft bed, and sleeping as late as she wanted. Knowing that their tour was officially over had prompted her to give the crowd what may have been the best performance of her life, and now she was more exhausted than she’d expected. She sighed wistfully as she imagined waking up without an alarm and enjoying a fresh cup of gourmet coffee loaded with cream and sugar. It would be such a luxury to lounge all day in her pajamas and then catch up on some of the junk television and junk food she’d abstained from for the past six weeks. She would kill for a buttery croissant right about now, especially one smothered in brie, with a glass of Beaujolais on the side. Yes, that sounded perfect. She’d have one of those and write another song, and then do it again and again, until she had enough songs to justify recording a new album and touring all over the world once more.
It wouldn’t matter how hard she pushed herself, though. Nothing would ever be enough to make her forget the warm sensation that constantly emanated from her wedding band. It seemed to be burning hotter now than it had when she’d first picked up her guitar that night. That damned ring had been the source of so much pain and frustration ever since it had been put on her finger. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to ignore that tiny, yet persistent vibration—the permanently attached ring gleamed too bright and burned too hot to be disregarded for more than a few brief moments. She’d even visited Danny at the hospital where he worked in hopes that he could remove it.
But the silver thread had come alive just like every other nerve in her body. After hearing her yelp and cry in the exam room, her ex had opted for an X-ray and quickly determined that the ring would have to stay put unless she wanted to involve a hand surgeon and multiple operations. That wasn’t going to work out so great for a serious guitarist with a renewed dedication to her music. Risking damage to her tendons and nerves for an elective surgery simply wasn’t an option. Her husband was gone and still with her. The ring was a constant, beautiful reminder of the dark shadow that would follow her for the rest of her inhumanly long life.
A soft knock at the door broke through her private thoughts. Once again she was sitting in front of that large mirror, staring at the sweaty blonde roots of her hair and the remaining lipgloss that still colored the edges of her mouth.
“Hey, hon…” Tripp said as he let himself into the room. He carefully shut the door behind him and gave her a disconcerted look, but said no more. Unlike his partner Adams, who barely uttered more than a stoic grunt of acknowledgment here and there, Tripp was never afraid to express his opinion…until now. The hairs on the back of Annika’s neck began to stand up.
“What’s wrong?”
He gave her a pained, awkward smile as he forced himself to speak.
“I don’t know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. You’ve got a visitor I think you need to see.”
Annika tried to read his thoughts as to who it could possibly be, although she was no match against her bodyguard’s powerful mind-cloaking abilities. She pulled her long red hair out of her ponytail and tried to ignore the anxiety bubbling up inside of her.
“If it’s someone from the audience, I’m going to need a minute,” she sighed. Tripp frowned and stepped back into the hall, closing the door most of the way. Annika could just barely make out his voice through the din of the venue. He spoke with indistinguishable, hushed tones to her visitor, and although they spoke for what seemed a short eternity, nothing suggested that there was anything for her to worry about. Even if it was just an overzealous fan or someone more sinister wishing her harm, they wouldn’t get so much as one toe past her bodyguard. Tripp was as solid as a brick wall, with an invisible shield of magic surrounding him. He was practically invincible. Even so, her hands were burning up as fast as her pulse was racing. She unscrewed the top of her bottle and took another long chug of water.
Then the door pushed open and in walked her mysterious visitor. He was like a vision of golden sunshine piercing through her darkest of dreams—taking her in with those eyes…and longing to speak to her with that mouth.
He took a step closer, hesitating as if he feared scaring her any more than he already did by simply standing in that small room. Her head grew light and her hands began to shake so much that the bottle of water rattled against the table when she set it down. The lights grew darker all around them, and Annika felt herself grabbing for her chair in an effort to stay in the seat. She gave one final grasp for consciousness as she fell into his arms.
“Slunchitse!” called a very rich, very deep, and very concerned voice from above. “Slunchitse, are you alright?”
13
My Little Sun
Annika was surrounded by plants and arched windows, in a room made of stone. She was reclining on a soft chaise lounge, turning the page of a children’s book from right to left, revealing an illustration of a unicorn kneeling beside a wounded stag. The mythical creature touched her snowy white nose against the stag’s bloody silver hide, bringing him back to life. His wounds immediately healed as the arrows that had once impaled him now
fell to the ground.
“Death cannot end our friendship, nor can it stop our frolicking,” the unicorn told him as he rose to his feet. “Shall we continue our game?”
The dream faded as Annika returned to consciousness and blinked in confusion. Dance music was pounding so hard through the club’s flimsy walls that she could feel it pulsing through her body. The hypnotic beat blared through the door so loud that it was making her dizzy as if she’d been spinning around the dance floor in circles after slamming a flight of tequila. Two sets of brown eyes were looking down at her, both deeply concerned. One pair belonged to a human man with a square jaw and skin like smooth ebony. The other pair of eyes belonged to an elven man with a faint scar running down the side of his once fair, now suntanned face. She knew that face, and she knew that this was impossible—she had to be wrong. She’d only seen him like this when his hair was wet and slicked back. His eyes were no longer hidden behind large, loose brown curls. His hair had been cut into a much shorter style, making his eyes and his pointed elven ears even more prominent. Another round of heart palpitations flurried from behind her ribs, and her mouth gulped for air like a fish that had just been yanked out of the water.
“She’s hyperventilating,” Tripp said from where he was kneeling beside her. “I’m going to find a paper bag for her to breathe into.”
“There’s no need for that. We’ve been through this before,” Finn assured him as he guided her to lie down on the floor. Tripp watched as Finn brought one of Annika’s hands to her chest and another to her stomach, then covered them with his own. His hands were warm and firm, and her body instantly recognized his healing touch even though her brain was struggling to process exactly what was happening.
“Annika, remember what I taught you about regulating your breathing when this happens?” His rich voice was so calm and soothing. “I want you to take a nice, deep breath and then hold it for ten seconds. Make certain that it fills your lungs and your belly. Our hands should rise up together when you inhale, and fall when you exhale.”
The Darkest of Dreams Page 17