Adrenalize

by Trina M. Lee

  Was it too early for alcohol? I glanced at my phone. Well, it was past noon.

  After ensuring that we spoke to everyone Jordan told us to, we had a few minutes to grab some lunch from a food truck and watch the band currently playing. If I’d known that it truly was the calmest moment we would have through the entire tour, I would’ve enjoyed it more.

  Aside from glancing longingly in Arrow’s direction, I didn’t get a chance to speak with him. More than once though, I looked up to find him peering at me across the distance while answering some interviewer’s question or posing for a photo. Nice to know he missed me too.

  When Jordan ordered us to the stage, the sun had just started its slow summer descent. The crowd had expanded throughout the day, so when I climbed the steps to the stage and peered out from the backstage area, the sheer volume of people out there sent alarm zinging through me.

  I knew I could do this. Confident in my abilities, I wasn’t going to allow nerves to stand in the way of giving the best performance possible. Still I found myself rubbing my sweaty palms on my skirt more than I usually did before a show.

  Moments before we were set to go on, Arrow found me backstage. Dressed all in black, hair tousled just so, smears of liner outlining his eyes, he looked ready for a rock show. Not to mention hot as hell. He pulled me in for a kiss, lingering just long enough to convey his unspoken intent for later when we were finally alone.

  “Break a leg, angel girl,” he murmured against my lips. “This crowd isn’t going to know what hit them after you ladies blow their fucking minds.”

  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous since we went to get the angel stone back from Flint. There are so many people out there.” Swallowing hard, I held onto the hand Arrow offered me, finding the calm reassurance he exuded so freely.

  One more kiss and Arrow pulled away. “Tonight is the first night of the rest of your life. Make it your bitch, baby.”

  A minute before the band on the other stage would finish, us girls were ushered into place on ours. A big black curtain hid us from the audience. I slung my guitar strap over my shoulder. The roadies had prepped our gear, something I’d never experienced before.

  Steeling myself with several deep breaths, I glanced around at the girls. Jett’s excitement rolled off her in palpable waves. Rubi shared my nerves, but she twirled a drumstick between her fingers, ready in the face of uncertainty. Tash pressed her lips into a tight smile, but her eyes sparkled with barely restrained joy.

  There were more women in rock now than maybe any other time. We weren’t the only ladies on the tour. It wasn’t just a boys club anymore even if we were still outnumbered. We’d come to make a name for ourselves on this tour, and I’d be damned if I’d allow something as unbearably human as nerves to stop that from happening.

  The band on the neighboring stage ended their set. The crowd exploded into screams and cheers. I rubbed my sweaty palms one last time on my skirt. Moments later the emcee got on stage to introduce us. He said our name and the curtain dropped, plunging me into the icy cold waters of the ocean beyond the warm pond of my comfort zone.

  One final glance at each other and with Jett’s short nod, Rubi laid down the drumbeat that opened our first song. Instinct and something else took over. The part of me that knew every note, every chord and solo. My fingers hit the strings and my nerves were forgotten.

  So immersed was I in the song as it flew from my fingertips that it took me a moment to realize several people in the crowd were singing along. They knew the lyrics. They were fans. Crimson Sin had fans beyond the club scene we played back home. The delicious trill of pure adrenaline shot through me. Nothing could’ve wiped the smile from my face.

  Standing in front of the stage off to the side to escape the crush of festivalgoers, Arrow puffed a cigarette and swigged from a beer bottle. There was no mistaking the pride that shone in his eyes. Next to him stood Rowen, Sam, and Greyson. Their show of support meant a lot, especially Rowen. Nothing about our precarious friendship had been easy since our breakup and probably never would be, but we cared about each other, and that would never change.

  Halfway through our set the guys disappeared, likely herded by Jordan onto the neighboring stage to prep. At some point during our last song, I became aware of someone watching us from backstage, just out of the audience’s sightline. A brief glimpse in that direction and I almost had to do a double take when I saw Blue Monroe there. The front man of Vixens and Venom, a band I had spent many of my teen years idolizing, he was watching us?

  We ended our set to raucous cries and applause. Sure, part of it might have been the alcohol-driven need for loud music and good times, but I’d take it. I handed my guitar off to a waiting roadie.

  Before I was entirely off the stage, Jett grabbed me from behind in a huge hug. “We kicked fucking ass, woman,” she gushed, squeezing a little too tight.

  I grunted and squirmed out of her embrace. Her enthusiasm was infectious. Our first tour show had gone better than I’d expected, and now I was psyched for more.

  Blue stepped out of the shadows, extending a hand. “Great show, ladies. I haven’t seen such a high-energy set in a while.”

  We exchanged introductions. Blue was about ten years older than us, and he’d been doing this a whole lot longer. Because I couldn’t help but fangirl a little bit, his opinion put me on cloud nine.

  “I make a point of checking out the newer acts on the road with us. Gotta make sure you won’t be stealing the show or anything. Although if anyone can do it, my money would be on you four.” He chuckled, tossing long wisps of silver hair out of his face. Blue’s short, spiky hair was shorter in the back and longer in the front until it fell down over one dark brown eye. Several piercings shone in his lips, nose, eyebrows, and ears. He was a hottie.

  “You can count on that.” Jett was not nearly as starstruck as the rest of us. She abruptly cut the conversation short. “Come on, girls. Let’s grab a drink. We don’t have much time.” She bounced down the steps, bright violet locks flying, with Tash and Rubi hot on her heels.

  Trying for a friendly parting smile, I moved to follow them. We were expected at the autograph table, though I couldn’t fathom anyone actually wanting my autograph.

  Blue stepped in front of me. Despite the fact that roadies bustled about on the stage behind me and we were far from alone, I felt cornered. Every defensive instinct Cinder had trained into me had me tensing.

  “We always kick off the first day of tour with drinks at the end of the night. Come by our bus sometime before we leave. We’ll do a shot. Or five.” Tilting his head so that lock of silver always fell perfectly over one eye, Blue gave me an appraising onceover. He made no effort to hide his ogling of my breasts.

  The manner in which he did it led me to think most women melted under his perusal. I wasn’t most women. Even though he was in my personal space, I didn’t step back. I’d had bigger, nastier beasties than one egotistical rock star up in my face.

  “I’ve got to get going. My tour manager will rip a strip out of me if I’m late. It was nice to meet you.” Disengaging fast was my go-to move. Without giving him a chance to reply, I zipped around him, ready to body check him if he tried to stop me again.

  Guys like Blue were a dime a dozen. I’d dealt with my share of jerks who thought being rich, hot, successful, or whatever else gave them a free pass to what was in my pants. Or the pants of any other woman for that matter. It sucked to discover someone you admired was a typical jerkhole. Such is life.

  “Right. Wouldn’t want to break the rules on a rock tour or anything.” With a smirk and a roll of his eyes, Blue plucked a cigarette from behind his ear. “I’ll see you later for that drink.”

  Such a cocky and presumptive remark didn’t deserve to be acknowledged. I descended the steps from the stage to find Jett and the girls lingering nearby, waiting for me.

  “What the hell did he want?” Jett snarled, upper lip curling aggressively.

  “To be a c
reep and insist that I come by his bus for a drink later.” Shrugging it off, I didn’t waste a glance back as we weaved our way through the throng toward the autograph tent.

  Jett pulled me to a stop so she could steal a moment for a longing look toward the stage where Molly’s Chamber played. I followed her gaze, and my heart immediately tripped over itself. My paramour had the crowd engaged, shouting with raised hands and bouncing to the music.

  Long black hair fell haphazardly into Arrow’s face as he nailed the chorus of a song the crowd knew and loved. The sleeveless Crimson Sin t-shirt stretched tight across his chest was a nice touch. I’d be sure to show my appreciation later.

  When Tash and Rubi got us moving with some teasing and cajoling, I let them push me along, but I glanced back the whole damn time. My man was hot as hell. I couldn’t help it.

  We arrived at the autograph table to find a small group of people there waiting. For us? It was a small group to be sure but a group nonetheless. My pulse pounded. Maybe I should have practiced my signature.

  “Stay away from Blue,” Jett said right before we sat down. “He’s bad news. My wolf doesn’t like him, and I’ve learned to never question that instinct.”

  I nodded to show that I’d heard but also because I agreed. In mere seconds Blue had left a lasting, unpleasant impression. Unfortunately, I had the uneasy feeling it was just the first of many.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS for a group of excited fans was probably the most surreal part of the entire day so far. It was all going wonderfully until one girl stepped up to the table and with a shifty smile asked, “Is it true that you’re dating Arrow Lynch from Molly’s Chamber?”

  I shot a glance at Jett who gave a slight roll of her eyes. To the waiting fan I simply smiled and said, “Yep. It sure is.”

  Arrow and I would never have used a term like ‘dating.’ We didn’t do ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ either. We were more than that. I’d chosen to call him my paramour, my illicit lover, and he loved that. Of course neither of us loved that it was true. Being light and dark as we were, our relationship was forbidden. Dangerous.

  The girl exchanged a laugh with her friends. She seemed surprised, like she’d expected me to tell her it was just a rumor. “Oh, I see. You’re not quite what I pictured his type to be.”

  I scribbled my name across the band picture we were handing out and shoved it at her. “I’m going to take that as a compliment. Have a great night.” Beneath my breath I muttered obscenities that only Jett’s keen wolf ears picked up amid the noise from the stage and the crowd at the other end of the field.

  I’d known the groupies would turn out in high numbers for Arrow. They had back home when he was but a big fish in a small pond. I told myself it didn’t bother me because I trusted him implicitly, and I did, but it got under my skin to be seen as nothing but an obstacle to some of these women.

  After we finished signing we were sent for another interview, this time with a local radio station. One of the DJs invited us back to his car to snort a line. Jett’s scathing glower exuded enough ridicule for the four of us.

  And then we were free to enjoy the rest of the evening. Including the headlining bands. Jordan informed us that the bus would be parked overnight. The next show was in Seattle, less than three hours away, so we wouldn’t be leaving until morning light. After staying sober all day in order to be at my very best, I was ready to unwind with a drink.

  Molly’s Chamber took over the autograph tent, so all I could do was shoot sneaky glances at Arrow, waiting impatiently for him to be free of his commitments. Of course the girl who had asked me if we were dating was in the lineup, eagerly waiting to meet him. Jett cast a possessive eye in that direction as well, sizing up every woman that lingered a little too long speaking with Sam. I sure wouldn’t want to be the woman on the receiving end of that territorial glower.

  Next stop was the beer tent where I got my hands on a vodka and Sprite. Some of the best rock bands in the world were about to play, and I couldn’t be more excited to have opened the show for them. A sense of raw, surreal realization struck me. We were really here. We were really doing this. Living our dream despite everything that stood in our way.

  The setting of the sun brought with it the appearance of a handful of demons. Bottom feeders mostly. The type I expected to see at an event like this. Less than I’d have guessed, although many demons could go undetected. Not harmless by any means but tonight they just weren’t my problem. That’s not why I was here.

  A few bands and just as many drinks later, any remaining nerves I had were numbed by the buzz of alcohol in my veins. System Status Unknown took the stage. The singer was rumored to be an eccentric wannabe vampire due to his refusal to be seen during daylight hours, but of course we knew better.

  As expected the lead singer, Atticus, was indeed a vampire. A gimmick to those who speculated about his strange persona and appearance. It surprised me that The Circle of the Veil allowed anyone to get away with shit like that. Although in this day and age with dentists doing custom fang work, anyone can appear as something they’re not. Atticus though very much was a vampire.

  While we watched his band perform from a secluded backstage area, everything about him gave it away to anyone who knew what to look for. It wasn’t the fangs or the black leather attire. Too obvious. It was the way he moved, a lithe grace that belonged only to the inhuman. I suspected when we finally met face-to-face that I would also feel the static friction of his undead energy. So far, aside from us, he was the only inhuman person on this tour. Although we had yet to meet everyone.

  By the time the show wrapped up for the evening, I was exhausted. But the party was just getting started. Both road crew and band members as well as several fans and groupies were gathered around the tour buses. I was not at all surprised to find the same woman from the autograph line drinking and laughing with the vampire from System Status Unknown. Although what was actually in his cup was anyone’s guess.

  People spilled in and out of buses. Several just hung around outside in groups talking, smoking, and flirting. Selfies and shots of alcohol were both taken. Needing a moment to run a brush through my hair and check my makeup, I ducked into our bus.

  A couple guys from Paul’s band and Greyson were back at the video games. Otherwise the bus was empty. At least I thought it was. As I reached to open the door to the back lounge where I’d left my makeup items, it opened.

  Rowen walked out, almost colliding with me. He was laughing and chatting with a dark-haired girl wearing a Molly’s Chamber t-shirt. Immediately my stomach clenched. And a heartbeat after that the guilt and self-loathing followed.

  It hadn’t taken him long to plunge into the rock star tour life, had it? Why couldn’t I just not care?

  I stepped back and plastered myself against the bunks to allow them by. Rowen’s gaze met mine. “Just showing Lisa the tour bus,” he explained as if I’d asked him what the hell he was doing.

  “It’s Lacey,” the groupie corrected.

  Rowen was oblivious. With an awkward nod at me, he pushed through and led her back to the front of the bus. Releasing a crushing lungful of tight breath, I ducked into the back lounge and closed the door, needing a moment alone after a day of such hectic chaos.

  Although I certainly couldn’t blame Rowen for sowing his wild oats—he was single after all—it didn’t seem like him. Different girls every night, not knowing their names, that wasn’t the Rowen I’d known. But were any of us the same anymore? So much had changed since the beginning.

  It didn’t take long for Jett to find me and drag my ass out of the bus. I had no idea where Arrow was, but I trusted that he would turn up soon.

  We emerged from the bus to discover the party crowd had grown. At least one hundred people hung out around the buses. No telling how many were crammed into each doing who knows what. Jett pressed a lit joint into my hand and led me over to where the other girls stood chatting with Storm Carver, the amazingly
badass lead singer of Zombie Love Affair. Storm was one of many women in the rock industry whom I looked up to and respected. Meeting her made me forget quickly about the awkward moment with Rowen.

  She was ridiculously nice. Genuinely friendly, Storm welcomed us to the tour and complimented our set. “It’s usually a real sausage fest during these things, so it’s really nice to have more women on tour. I can hang with the boys like the best of them, but it sure does get old. One can only listen to so many fart jokes, and the bus really smells nasty by the end of the tour.”

  We passed the joint, laughing and chatting. A drink made its way into my hand courtesy of Jett who needed to remember that we could not all keep up with her werewolf stamina. Storm sipped from a beer bottle, somehow making it look elegant and sexy as hell.

  A shock of black hair fell straight down her back. Just one streak of blue in the front broke through the ebony. Her full lips were painted a deep red, and her brown eyes shimmered with glittery shadow. A Morticia Addams-style gothic dress clung to her curves, boosting her cleavage sky-high. Several of the guys partying in the vicinity made an attempt to speak to her. So much so that it became a drinking game for the rest of us.

  It didn’t take long for the attention to spill over to the rest of us women once Storm made it clear she wasn’t interested. After watching several guys hit on us, Storm said, “A word of advice, ladies. Don’t believe for a second that any one of these guys is good for more than one thing. That’s all they want. That’s all you should want. Don’t fall in love on the road. Dating a rock star will fuck you up.”

  Spoken with the bitter tone of someone who knew firsthand. Heartbreak didn’t mess around. It took no prisoners and didn’t give a damn who you were. Or in my case, who’s blood ran through your veins. Her warning came far too late to save me. I’d fallen in love again.

  Jett and I exchanged a look before sharing a laugh. “It’s a bit late for that. We’re already tied up with a couple guys from back home. They’re here too. Molly’s Chamber.”