HALO: Fallen Angel Series #1

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HALO: Fallen Angel Series #1 Page 8

by Frank, Ella


  Viper chuckled and nodded. “I know. That doesn’t change the fact that what you played kicked ass. The guys’ll like it.”

  Shit. Okay, maybe I’d read his signals wrong. “Uh, I don’t know.” I wasn’t so sure about opening up that much here, in front of everyone. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that vulnerable.

  Viper stepped around me, and as he headed back across the living space, he called over his shoulder, “There’s a piano in the rehearsal room. You need to go and show them.”

  Just as his words trailed off, Killian pushed through the front door and looked in my direction.

  “Show us what?” he asked, as he and the others headed back inside.

  “Nothin’,” I said quickly.

  Viper gave me a pointed look. “Didn’t sound like nothin’ to me the first time I heard it.”

  Jesus Christ, Viper, shut up.

  “I wanna hear it,” Jagger said.

  Slade nodded. “Me too.”

  And just like that, I was outnumbered.

  “Well…” I chewed my lower lip as I walked around the island. “I was just playing around with something the other night.”

  “And you’re only mentioning that now?” Killian said, as we headed into the rehearsal space.

  “I didn’t think it was your thing.”

  “Our thing?” Killian grinned. “Well, we’re lookin’ for a new thing now, so go for it.”

  My eyes darted around at the rest of the guys staring at me until they finally landed on Viper, who nodded toward the piano.

  Okay. I guess I was doing this.

  I took a seat behind the baby grand, and Viper backed away, giving me space. Thinking back to the melody, I exhaled and placed my fingers on the keys.

  Sixteen

  Viper

  ALL RIGHT, ANGEL. Show ’em what you got.

  Blowing out a breath, Halo laid his fingers atop the keys, and after several beats, he began to play the repeating piano riff I’d heard that night in the hotel lounge. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he went along, as though he’d managed to block us all out and only the music mattered.

  Watching Halo was like poetry in motion. His hands glided over the keys with ease, his whole body following along where his fingers guided. I couldn’t tell you how long it lasted, how long he played, but all too soon it was over, and as Halo lowered his hands from the keys, his eyes lifted to where the four of us stood a few feet away, staring at him with blank expressions—well, except for me. I had a smug-ass smile on my face, because fuck if he didn’t sound as brilliant behind that piano today as he had the first time I’d heard him.

  The silence in the room as he sat there looking at us was close to deafening, and I couldn’t get a read on what the rest of the guys were thinking. Did they like it as much as I did? Did they think I’d lost my mind making Halo show them?

  Whatever. It was badass, and surely they would realize that, once they wrapped their heads around just how different it was from our usual sound. I mean, that was what Killian had said he wanted. Right?

  When the guys continued to stand there like shags on a rock, Halo stood and walked to where Killian’s bass sat cradled in its stand. He gestured to it. “I can show you more? If you like?”

  Killian blinked a couple of times, as though trying to understand what Halo was asking him, and I almost laughed. He was completely gobsmacked. And I could tell he was feeling the same way I had the first time I’d heard Halo play—blown the fuck away.

  Killian nodded. “I didn’t know you played.”

  “Yep,” Halo said, his lips curling up at the edge now, as he picked up the instrument. He was beginning to enjoy this, showing us what he could do, and it was becoming more and more apparent there was a lot we didn’t know about him. “Okay, so obviously this is all a little different from what you guys are used to—”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” I interjected. “Right, Kill? What was that about the damn zombies rising?”

  “Right.” Killian rubbed his chin. “Yeah, totally, we want a change.”

  Taking that as permission to continue, Halo ran his fingers up the neck of the bass until they were in place. Then he stroked his thumb down the strings, getting a feel for Killian’s bass, before he shut his eyes and began to play. As he plucked away at the strings, Halo lost himself in the cadence of it, letting the tune build inside him, the same way he had on the piano.

  When Halo looked up to see everyone staring at him slack-jawed, he knew he had our attention. No one was interrupting. No one was making obnoxious comments. We were all watching him with laser focus.

  “Killian, you’d kill this,” Halo said, as he continued to play and made his way to where Jagger’s keyboards were set up, moving in behind them. He stopped when he reached them, knowing better than to touch another man’s pride and joy without permission. Halo looked in Jagger’s direction, and Jagger knew what he was asking without him saying a word.

  Jagger nodded, and Halo let go of the bass and laid his fingers on the keyboard. As if the tune had continued to run through his head as he moved from one instrument to the next, Halo’s fingers flew over the keys in a way most would find difficult to mimic after one listen through. But Jagger wasn’t just anyone. That guy was pure talent behind any kind of keyboard, and when Halo and the rest of us looked at him, Jagger was grinning like a fucking loon.

  “Dude.” Jagger looked to Slade, Killian, and then me. “Is this guy for real? That’s…that’s fuckin’ genius.”

  Halo looked at Killian, who nodded. But when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out—seemed I wasn’t the only one who was impressed.

  Slade twirled his drumsticks through his fingers as he walked in Halo’s direction, then he gestured to his drum kit and said, “I suppose you’re gonna tell us you can play those too, huh?”

  I could hear the challenge in Slade’s voice, and knew Halo would be able to see it in his eyes, and while most would be intimidated, it appeared Halo had decided it was time to stop holding back.

  Halo held a hand out to Slade and gestured for his sticks. Slade snorted but gave them over, then looked at Killian. “Did you know you’d hired a fucking maestro?”

  Halo gave Killian’s guitar back to him, and as he took it from him, Killian slowly shook his head. “No. No, I did not.”

  Halo’s eyes found mine, and if I’d thought he was hot when he was nothing more than the new lead singer, then watching him command every instrument in this place like he was born with it in his hand was one of the sexiest damn things I’d seen in my life. Add in the way he was looking at me with that crooked grin and excitement in his eyes, and I was going to have to excuse myself to hide the hard-on I was finding really fucking difficult to control.

  Halo sat behind Slade’s drum kit next and stretched his legs out, and with our full attention on him, he began to play, and soon enough the beat flowed out of him as naturally as it had on the other instruments, and someone cursed.

  Halo looked up, his light eyes seeking me out, and when he caught me watching his movements, he looked as though my attention pleased him, something that was in direct contrast to his comments earlier.

  Fuck. That look was all kinds of trouble, because Halo was looking for my approval. I didn’t think he realized he was doing it. But as I moved closer, until I was standing only feet from him, a flush crept up his neck that made my dick really happy. So happy that if Halo dropped his eyes down to my jeans right then, he’d realize just how much I approved.

  When Halo finished and stood up, Slade, Jagger, and Killian began to whistle and slow-clap, before they all looked in my direction.

  Right. Three down. One to go.

  Halo wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, shrugged out of his jacket, then tossed it on a chair as he walked over to me, and as he drew near, all I could think about was how salty his skin would taste right now.

  “Guess that leaves me,” I said.

  “Yep. May I?”

  I gla
nced down to my guitar in its stand, and then back to Halo. “I don’t know. No one touches my guitar.”

  Halo nodded. But then I smirked, reached for my Telecaster, and held it out to him. “But you seem pretty good with your hands. Just treat him gentle, yeah?”

  With careful hands, Halo took it from me and strapped it over his neck, and then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his fingers fly.

  As I stood there only inches away from him, I almost forgot the rest of the guys were in the room. Halo, running his fingers over the strings of my baby, was the hottest fucking thing imaginable. The way his body was moving against the back of it, his foot tapping along to the tune in his head, made it damn clear that by the end of this session I was gonna have to call someone up to get rid of this sexual tension clawing at me.

  It’d been a long time since my dick had decided to become obsessed with a straight guy, but there was no denying it was interested now. The angel had ignited a fire I was finding really difficult to extinguish, and even though my brain knew he was straight, my cock didn’t much care.

  As Halo was finishing up, he opened his eyes and startled at whatever it was he saw in mine. His fingers stuttered over the strings momentarily, and then he caught himself and cleared his throat. “And then, uh…you’d do what you do best.”

  “And what is it you think I do best, Angel?” I said it in a way that made it clear I wasn’t just referring to music.

  “You’d slay everyone with a killer solo.” Halo lifted the strap over his head and held the guitar out toward me.

  “Oh? Not going to show me how it’s done?”

  “I’m sure you can handle it.”

  As I took the guitar, my hand brushed slightly against his, and before Halo let go, I lowered my voice so only he could hear my words. “Maybe I like watching you.”

  Halo’s mouth opened, and then shut, and then he let go of my guitar and took a step back, and I was careful to hold the instrument strategically over the front of me.

  “Well, hot damn,” Jagger said, coming over and slinging his arm around Halo’s shoulders. “That was insane.”

  “Hell yeah it was,” Slade said, a grin stretching across his face.

  I looked to Killian, who was smiling at Halo like he was the second coming of Christ, and if he kept this shit up, he just might be. “That was amazing. V, you heard this last week and are just telling us now?”

  I shrugged. This wasn’t my moment—it was Halo’s.

  “Brilliant. I can definitely see us working with this,” Killian said. “I don’t know about all of you, but I think we need to go out and celebrate. That’s the best thing I’ve heard in days, and it’s making me all kinds of excited.”

  “Settle down,” Slade said, laughing. “Halo doesn’t bat for your team. Right? You like the ladies like me and Jagger here.”

  Halo chuckled as he looked around the room, his eyes landing on me, as he said, “Right.”

  Jagger clapped him on the back. “That’s okay, I guess. But make sure you don’t double-dip any of our women, you feel me? It’s kind of a rule around here. We don’t want no woman who’s had all the bees in her honey. It makes for a sticky situation.”

  “Jesus, Jagger.” My dick instantly lost any kind of interest it’d had a minute ago, and as I put my guitar down, Killian said, “Why don’t we all hit Easy Street tonight? To celebrate the fact we hired a fucking genius.”

  As all the guys agreed and started talking about how kickass Halo had just been, my eyes wandered back to the man of the moment, who was laughing along with them. But as though he could feel my stare from across the room, Halo’s eyes drifted back to mine, and I inclined my head ever so slightly and reminded myself: straight. I couldn’t help but think hitting up a bar tonight was an amazing idea. If only to find someone to help me fuck a certain angel out of my head.

  Seventeen

  Halo

  THAT NIGHT, WE commandeered a roped-off VIP section at a loud, packed bar called Easy Street, where rock hits from the seventies to the present day blared above the chatter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a night out with the guys, though I’d never been on the receiving end of the kind of attention we’d gotten just from walking in the door. It was like the disastrous show from last weekend never happened with the way everyone showered Killian, Slade, and Jagger with praise and everything their hearts desired. Best seat in the house? Check. Bottles of free alcohol? Check. Gorgeous men and women to entertain us? Check.

  And though no one knew who I was, I hadn’t been left out of the action. In fact, the only one who had was Viper, and that was because he hadn’t shown up yet.

  “Halo.” Killian’s arm went around the waist of the man he’d been dancing with—or grinding with, was more like it—and moved him to the side as he lifted up his empty glass. “Need a refill?”

  I glanced down at my tumbler, only melted ice remaining, and excused myself from the three women who’d cornered me from all sides as soon as I’d sat down. Killian took my glass, chucked the contents off to the side, and then scooped in fresh ice and a heavy pour of vodka. As he handed my glass back, he lifted his chin to the women on the couch.

  “Looks like you’ve got your pick. Will it be the Asian femme fatale, black beauty, or prom queen?” he asked.

  I squeezed a lime over my drink and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “Oh? If you need more choices, we can—”

  “No, no, no. They’re great.” In truth, I’d been hoping to shoot the shit with the guys tonight, but they’d all taken up with others. Jagger had brought “his current lady love,” according to Killian, and Slade was with a few women who had so many piercings that I’d given them a wide berth so I wouldn’t get caught on them.

  Killian clapped me on the shoulder. “Great, huh? Well, my man, no need to choose, then.” As he gave me a sly wink, a wild burst of screams had us both jerking in the direction of the entrance. A mass of people surrounded someone, and as they attempted to move through the crowd, that someone’s face came into view.

  “About time he showed up,” Killian said, shaking his head as Viper bumped fists, posed for selfies—scowling, not smiling, naturally—and signed exposed breasts that I knew he had no interest in whatsoever, though he definitely put on a good show of enjoying it.

  Something about him looked different tonight. I tried to put my finger on what it was when Viper looked up, his eyes catching mine. There—that was the first thing. His eyes looked darker than usual, like they were rimmed in black. It gave off a provocative vibe that no one around him could seem to resist. He didn’t look bothered in the least, and when a handful of security guards appeared out of nowhere to usher him through, he made sure to grab the tie of one of the men vying for his attention, bringing him along.

  As they headed toward us, my eyes narrowed on the guy Viper had chosen. Who the hell wore a tie to a bar? Some stuffy accountant or whatever? That wasn’t at all the kind of person I’d thought Viper would be attracted to.

  “So good of you to make an appearance,” Killian drawled as one of the security guards opened the rope for Viper and his…friend to step inside the VIP.

  Dressed head to toe in black, Viper had left half of the buttons on his shirt undone, showcasing the tanned, well-defined chest usually hidden, and several thin silver chains of varying length hung around his neck.

  Dangerous. That was the word that came to mind when Viper walked in and sucked all the air from the room.

  “What’d I miss?” Viper said, his gaze sweeping around the space, and when it landed on the women behind me, he raised a brow. “Having fun, Angel?”

  “You know it.” I swallowed back some of the vodka, my head beginning to buzz slightly.

  “Good. That’s what tonight’s for.” He leaned in to my ear. “Some ‘lose your mind and your pants,’ sexy fun.”

  For half a second, I thought he was going to make a move. He was close enough. But as soon as the thought entered my min
d, Viper moved away, turning his back on me completely as he rejoined his friend.

  With Killian and the others preoccupied with their distractions for the night, I headed back to the couch, somewhat resigned to the way the night was going.

  “There you are, gorgeous,” the blonde, the one Killian had dubbed “prom queen,” said, fingering the opening of my shirt when I sat down. Her tight, short dress left little to the imagination as she leaned in to give me a better view. “So tell us. How’d you hook up with these guys?”

  “Yeah, what are you, like, in the band now?” one of the others said in my ear behind me as she scooted in close.

  I took another sip of my drink. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  Black beauty scrunched up her nose. “You’re not part of the crew, are you?”

  “He’s too sexy for that,” prom queen said. “Aren’t you, baby?”

  Ugh, I hated the term baby, even from someone I was a lot more familiar with.

  Jagger took the opportunity to stick his head in. “Ladies, meet our new lead singer.”

  All three of them gasped, clutching my arms, my legs.

  “I just knew you’d be good with your mouth.”

  “You’re the new Trent? Oh my God.”

  “You’re even sexier than he was.”

  As Jagger backed away, he mouthed, “You’re welcome,” but my gut twisted. Sure, they’d been interested when they thought I was a TBD tagalong, but now? One of them had already unbuttoned my jeans and another was practically riding my thigh.

  This should’ve been fucking heaven. Three beautiful women, a private area away from the crowd so we could do as we pleased. But…it all felt wrong. And in the back of my mind, all I could think was that everyone here in the VIP were nothing but groupies, hoping to get a few hours alone with any one of us. Was this what the guys went through every time they went out? Was this what was expected of me?

 

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