HALO: Fallen Angel Series #1

by Frank, Ella

  This close, I could smell the fresh scent of whatever soap he’d used this morning as he sidled in closer, and I allowed myself a moment to really look at the guy since he’d walked into the studio.

  In well-worn jeans, a black T-shirt, and Converse, Halo wasn’t dressed to impress—more likely dressed for comfort. But with a leather strap wrapped around his right wrist, that tangle of messy waves on his head, and a full mouth singing a song I’d written about unrequited lust, I was pretty fucking glad I had a guitar covering the lower half of my body.

  I’d known this was going to happen. From the second he’d walked into the audition to last night, when I’d told Killian this was a bad idea. The frontman always played off the lead guitarist, and our band was certainly no different. Chemistry, that was what Killian said he wanted. So, let’s see what the angel had up his sleeve.

  As Halo sang toward the first chorus, and Slade sped up on the drums, I flicked my eyes over to Killian, whose gaze was locked on the two of us; he was probably wondering what the fuck I was gonna do next—but hey, that was his problem, not mine.

  Instead, I returned my attention to Halo, singing the background vocals to go along with his. I was just in time to catch his eyes dropping to my mouth, and fuck if that did anything to squash the arousal licking through my veins from having him so close, and when he seemed to realize where he was looking and his eyes flew up to clash with mine, I couldn’t stop the smirk that crossed my lips.

  Arching an eyebrow, I all but dared him to come closer, and as we came up to the next round of the chorus, he lowered his arm, leaned in, and shared the mic with me, putting his lips in dangerously close proximity to mine.

  The guy had balls, I had to give him that, and as the beat of the drums pulsed around the room, driving us toward the second verse, Halo wrapped his hand around my mic stand and angled his face toward me, as we sang the final line of the chorus in complete sync with one another.

  As the words cut off and the music took over before the second verse, Halo released the mic stand and took a step back. His eyes were still fastened to mine as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just done, but then an arrogant smile curved his lips and it was obvious he was pretty fucking pleased with himself—and so he should be.

  I’d once been asked in an interview what three things I found sexiest in a person, and at the time it had been easy enough to rattle them off, since I’d been sitting next to Trent.

  Confidence.

  Talent.

  Sexual self-awareness.

  And as Halo moved back to the center of the room and slid the end of his mic back into the stand slowly, like a caress, I found my answer hadn’t changed one fucking bit. Because the confidence Halo was now throwing off as he shut his eyes and began to sing the next verse made me think for the first time that there might be something better out there than Trent Knox, and he might be standing here in Killian’s rehearsal studio.

  As the song wound down, the energy in the room practically vibrated as Halo’s voice faded into the silence, and when it was over, Jagger was the first to speak up.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

  Halo opened his eyes and glanced in my direction, even though Jagger had been the one to practically bust a nut over his performance.

  “That was incredible. Fucking incredible. Right, guys?”

  Halo swallowed and then turned to the lip of the stage, where the drum kit was set up, to bend down and pick up his bottle of water. I knew I was supposed to be concentrating on the music and his voice, and how damn good he’d just sung our songs. But with the way the denim was now stretched across his ass, my attention had shifted gears.

  “Seriously. Kickass job, man,” Slade said as he twirled the stick in his left hand up and down four of his fingers. “You nailed it. Even got all up in Viper’s space and held your own.”

  I was about a second away from offering to let Halo hold something else of mine if he wanted to, but luckily for him, Killian got in first.

  “I have to admit, I knew you were good, but this right here was on a whole other level of good.” Killian looked in my direction. “V?”

  I took in the excitement etched into the faces of my friends and bandmates, something none of us had felt for months, and I had to give credit to Halo for not only singing the shit out of our songs, but also reminding us why the hell we were here in the first place.

  “Yeah, you did all right,” I said.

  A flush crept up Halo’s neck, and it wasn’t lost on me or my dick that my words were the ones that had caused that reaction. Not Slade’s. Not Jagger’s. Not Killian’s. Halo had been wanting my approval today, and I wondered if he realized what that kind of ego stroking did to a man like me. I was thinking not, otherwise there’d be no way on God’s green earth that he would still be holding my stare.

  “Right,” Killian said, effectively pulling my gaze, which was his intention, judging by the quit it look in his eyes. I shrugged it off. “How ’bout we go through the rest of the set and see how they feel?”

  Halo set the water back down by his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good to me. Is there anything you’d like me to change? Do differently?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Okay.” Halo glanced down to the papers in front of him on the stand, then he looked over his shoulder to Slade and said, “Ready when you are,” like he’d been doing this his entire fucking life. And as Slade held his sticks above his head and banged them together, I found I couldn’t take my eyes off the man behind the mic.

  Confidence. Halo had it in spades. And hell if that didn’t make him even more tempting.

  Nine

  Halo

  SIX HOURS AND a successful first rehearsal later, and I was riding a high like I’d never felt. It’d been so natural fronting the band, like I’d been born to do it, and there was no way I was going to be able to get rid of the wide grin on my face anytime soon.

  “Great job today, Halo,” Jagger said, as we packed up to leave. He slipped on a fine overcoat as I zipped up my backpack and shrugged it up my shoulder.

  “Thanks, man. That was…” I shook my head. I didn’t have the words, but luckily he knew exactly how I was feeling and clapped me on the back.

  “You did great. Glad to have you with us.”

  “I’m happy to be here.” God, that was an understatement. Fucking ecstatic was more like it.

  I headed out of the rehearsal room with my guitar case and said my goodbyes to Killian and Viper, who were in deep conversation with each other. We had another rehearsal scheduled for the same time tomorrow, and after the way things had gone today, I was starting to visualize many more in my future.

  Stepping onto the elevator, I hit the button for the ground floor, and as the doors began to close, I heard someone call out, “Hold the door.”

  I shot my hand out, forcing the elevator doors apart, and then Viper stepped inside. His presence in any room was tremendous, an air of dominance radiating off the guy, and it was especially potent in such a small area. I could barely believe I’d gone head-to-head with him in rehearsal. When I performed, it was like I could push the envelope, like the music took over and made me do things outside my comfort zone.

  Viper pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his burgundy leather motorcycle jacket and tucked one over his ear. “Want one?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”

  He smirked and slipped the pack back inside his jacket. “Course not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothin’, Angel. You a virgin, too?”

  I ignored his swipe at me. “You keep calling me Angel. Why?”

  “Look at you.” Viper swept his gaze over me leisurely, taking his time. Under his perusal, I felt the need to move, unable to stand still. When his eyes came back up to my face, he said, “Still wondering which way you’ll fall. Are you as pure as you look, or are you a dark angel in disguise?”
<
br />   The elevator doors opened, but I stood rooted to the spot until Viper swept his hand forward. “After you.”

  I tightened my fingers around the guitar case’s handle, the feel of it slippery in my palm, and walked out and through the exit. The blustery wind whipped my hair across my face, the cold instantly stinging my exposed skin. January in New York was never any fun, but at least the heavy snowfall had held off so far. I started in the direction of the closest subway entrance as a cab stopped in front of Killian’s building. As Viper opened the door to get inside, he looked over his shoulder at me.

  “Hey, Angel. You hungry?”

  I moved the hair off my face to make sure it had indeed been Viper asking and not some figment of my imagination.

  He raised his brows. “Well?”

  With perfect timing, my stomach growled. “Yeah, I could eat.”

  Viper nodded for me to join him, and as I started forward, the cab driver came around the back to put my guitar case in the trunk.

  Surprised was the word I’d use as I joined Viper in the back seat and he rattled off an address nearby. I wasn’t sure why he’d invited me, since he didn’t seem to be the most social guy, but maybe this would be a good opportunity to get to know him. I’d certainly heard a lot about him, but who knew what was true and what was gossip?

  “Chinese okay?” Viper asked. My stomach rumbled again in response, and he chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  We didn’t say much during the short drive, and when the cab pulled up in front of a nondescript brick building, Viper handed the driver a few bills and we grabbed my case from the back.

  “It looks like a hole in the wall, but the food is unfuckingreal,” Viper said, seeing my confused expression as we headed downstairs to what looked like a basement. A small sign on the door with the words “Li’s Kitchen” was the only tipoff that it wasn’t a residence. As he pushed open the door, the warmth from inside was a welcome relief, but the decor left a lot to the imagination. With faded red walls that peeled in some spots, it looked like it hadn’t been updated since they’d opened, which had to be decades ago.

  Is this some kind of joke?

  But to my surprise, as Viper led us to a table in the corner, I saw the restaurant was packed. Not only that, but the stares that followed him came from not only the women, but some of the men as well. Jaws dropped, teeth bit down on bottom lips, and audible gasps could be heard. Did Viper even notice the reaction people had to him, or was he so used to it by now that it was white noise?

  My answer came when we passed a group of women and one of them reached out to touch him. He caught her hand, brought it to his lips, and then placed a kiss on the back of it. She sucked in a breath, and when he winked at her and walked off, the whole table burst into shrieks.

  As we took our seats, Viper choosing the one that kept his back to the rest of the room, I could only shake my head. “Jesus, my sister was right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “Everyone’s, like…in love with you.” I’d never seen anything like it, and even with his back to them, people still stared. Would they come over and hit on him later? Leave him napkins with their numbers written on them?

  “They don’t love me,” Viper said, throwing his arm over the back of the chair. “They just wanna fuck me.”

  My eyes went wide. He wasn’t one to mince words, was he?

  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna abandon you here,” he said, his lips tilting up. “They’re not my type.”

  What is your type? I almost asked, but that wasn’t any of my business. Instead, I shrugged, wanting him to know I wasn’t about to judge. “You do you.”

  Before Viper could respond, a thin older man joined us and set down a bottle of something called Baijui, two small glasses, and two iced waters.

  “Thanks, Li,” Viper said, and then small-talked with the man I presumed was the owner, if his name was any indication. After Li left, Viper poured us both some of the Baijui.

  “You come here a lot?” I asked.

  Viper raised his glass as I did the same, and then swallowed a mouthful of the white spirit. Fuck me, that was strong. My insides burned as the liquor made its way down.

  “Good, right?” Viper grinned. “And yeah, whenever I’m in the neighborhood. Doesn’t look like much, but it’s the best authentic Chinese in the city. If they cleaned shit up in here, some newspaper would be all over it, and then the tourists would take over. Fuck that.”

  Made sense. Tourists ruined all the good spots. I skimmed the menu, my eyes catching on the dim sum options and refusing to look elsewhere.

  Viper didn’t bother looking at the menu, pouring us another round of Baijui instead.

  “Let me guess: you get the same thing every time you come here,” I said.

  “Bingo.”

  “Surprising. I thought a guy like you would say variety is the spice of life,” I joked.

  Viper’s eyebrow arched. “A guy like me?”

  Okay, that didn’t come out like I meant it. “Just that you seem like someone who enjoys life’s pleasures. You know, not getting bogged down by the same old thing.”

  “Oh, I do enjoy life’s pleasures, Angel. You’ve got that part right.”

  Jesus, it was like everything out of the guy’s mouth sounded sexual. I didn’t even know what to say to that, so I took another swallow of the liquor, and this time, it didn’t scorch my insides. Much.

  “Careful there,” Viper said. “That stuff packs a punch.”

  “You don’t think I can hold my liquor?”

  “I hope not. I’d like to see what a drunk Angel looks like.”

  I suddenly felt too warm in my jacket and shrugged out of it. The alcohol must’ve hit already—that or embarrassment from the way Viper seemed to enjoy teasing the shit out of me. As I looked around the room, all eyes were still on the man in front of me, and I leaned across the table. “Everyone’s still staring at you. Does this happen every time you go out?”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if I’d ever leave my house if I were you.”

  “You’re gonna have to get used to it if you want to be our frontman. It’ll only be worse for you.”

  Worse? Worse than everyone in the room watching your every move? I hadn’t really thought about that side of being in a band, but since I wasn’t technically in the band, it didn’t seem like something I’d need to worry about.

  That train of thought was interrupted when Li came back to get our orders. He asked for Viper’s even though he apparently ordered the same almond chicken combo every time, and once he was gone, Viper rubbed his chin.

  “So how’d it feel today?” he asked.

  I thought about how to describe the way every second of today’s rehearsal had felt like a dream, but it all sounded so cheesy and not something I wanted to admit. So I went with “Perfect.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Because we’d like you to join us.”

  The chatter in the room seemed to go silent, the whole world disappearing as I focused in on Viper’s words and tried to make sense of them. Join them? I was already joining them for another rehearsal tomorrow, so did he mean—

  Oh fuck. Surely he didn’t mean…for good?

  “Uh…” My throat seized, and I reached for my water, chugging half the contents before I could speak again. “Join you where, exactly?”

  Viper snorted, shaking his head. “Join the band. On a permanent basis.”

  I opened my mouth, shut it, opened it again, and all that came out was: “Holy shit. Holy shit.” They wanted me as part of TBD after one rehearsal? Was he pulling my chain, or was this for real? “You’re not bullshitting me right now?”

  Viper lifted the glass to his lips. “Not bullshitting you. What do you say?”

  “Uh, fuck yes,” I blurted, practically jumping out of my chair as Viper chuckled at my reaction.

  “You’ll need to fill out a bunch of boring-as-shit paperwork in the next few days,
but the job’s yours if you want it.”

  If I want it? Twist my fucking arm. I dropped my head in my hands, hiding the way I was smiling so hard my cheeks ached. I was in the band. I was the lead singer of TB-fucking-D.

  “Cheers,” Viper said, and when I lifted my head, I saw him holding up his glass.

  I raised mine to his and downed the rest of the liquor, and all I could think was how completely life-changing this year was already starting out.

  Ten

  Viper

  WHEN I VOLUNTEERED to be the one to break the news to Halo that we wanted him on a permanent basis, it had been for purely selfish reasons. What better way to get the guy in a one-on-one situation where I could get a better gauge on him than taking him out to dinner and delivering the best fucking news he’d received in his life?

  But as I sat across from him at the decades-old table and watched the pure elation spread across his face, the last thing I felt was selfish. Halo looked as though he wanted to jump up on the table and scream out his good fortune to anyone who wanted to listen, and judging by the curious eyes that had been glued to us since our arrival, that would be every single person in the place.

  These days, I rarely noticed the prying eyes, the intrusive stares that came along with the kind of fame TBD had acquired. It was something I’d became accustomed to and learned how to deal with as we’d clawed our way to the top of the charts through hard work, sweat, and perseverance. But experiencing it all over again through Halo’s eyes tonight was a stark reminder of just how green this guy was—how green we had been. The difference was that we’d all had a minute to come to terms with it. Years. Halo? He was going to get a week.

  TBD had a charity gig coming up in Savannah. It was a smaller event than we usually played, but it’d been booked for over a year now—before Trent had decided to fuck off. That was one of the reasons the record company had been riding our asses so hard over the last couple of months, and Killian and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to see how Halo was going to handle the stage, handle us, and, more importantly, handle a crowd.