by Trina M. Lee
“Thanks. I’m glad you find my God given talents so enjoyable.” It took great effort not to smile when he frowned. “You shouldn’t be here though.”
“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Pretty much always.”
We sat there in silence until the waitress dropped off our drinks before disappearing into the demanding throng of rock n’ rollers. The awkwardness grew by the second, but Koda sat there completely unfazed, watching everything from the guys doing sound check to the girl in a short skirt bending over to pick up a dropped cell phone. But mostly, he was watching me.
Koda sipped from the import beer he’d ordered and regarded me with a softness that meant he was going to get sappy on me, or as sappy as a demon can get. “I came because I knew Dash would be here. He has an unhealthy interest in you. I don’t like it.”
Dissension among demonkind was not uncommon. As well organized as they were, the conflict was constant among those power hungry liars. It really came as no surprise that they were so often at odds with each other.
I took a deep breath, trying not to lose my temper. Arrow had already worked my last nerve. “Koda, you have an unhealthy interest in me. Both you and Dash need to give up on me and Rowen. We don’t belong to the dark.”
“You belong with us. The nephilim are abominations, making you ours by nature. Accept it.”
“Except there’s this little thing called free will that states it is my choice. Not yours. There is nothing written in stone. I am my own person. You need to back the fuck off and respect that.” My cheeks burned with the heat of my rising anger. “And if you can’t respect that, then just back the fuck off.”
Koda stared without emotion. It was as if my thoughts and feelings toward him bore no weight. It meant nothing to him that I despised him. In his mind he had a job to do, or whatever he used to justify being a constant thorn in my side. My absolute loathing for him slid off him like water off a duck’s back. It was downright infuriating.
“I’m not going anywhere, Spike. Not until you’ve made your choice.” Tipping his bottle to me, he drank back the contents, ignoring my hate-filled glower.
The level he was willing to sink to disgusted me. I leaned closer so as not to have to shout. With clenched teeth, I said, “If I were to choose the dark, Koda, it wouldn’t be you. I will never choose to be with you. I’d rather be dead.”
His lack of reaction was a front. The only visible change in him was the swelling of his pupils as they grew with sudden rage. Black, drowning pits outlined with brilliant scarlet, those eyes promised horrid things so depraved and cruel that my imagination refused to entertain the idea of what Koda was capable of.
He leaned in, swift and aggressive, pasting me against the back of my chair. Getting right in my face he sneered, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Without wasting a breath on threats or filthy promises, Koda vanished, gone so fast it was like he’d never been there. His reaction had been expected, though the venom in his departing words sent a chill down my spine.
I shuddered and ran both hands through my hair. Exasperated and fed up, I pondered the idea of making my choice and proclaiming my allegiance. Putting it off was only causing Koda to linger in my life. However, making a choice would make me a sworn enemy of the side I turned my back on. Having Koda stalk and harass me would pale in comparison to what would come next.
A hand on my shoulder had me whirling around defensively. My palms burned, and I had to restrain myself when I saw that it was Jett and the girls.
“Sweet, you got us a table,” she said, plopping down into the chair Koda had just abandoned. “What’s wrong? You look pissed. Still mad about Arrow?”
I cast a quick smile at Tash and Rubi, glad to have my girls rallied around me while we awaited our fate in this band battle. Speaking low so only Jett’s keen ears would hear, I said, “Koda was just here.”
She nodded in understanding and patted my hand. Her skin was very warm. A werewolf’s blood runs hot, or so I’ve been told. “Forget him. Your boy is about to play, and then we find out if we’re playing them in the finals.”
“Careful, Jett,” Tash warned, chewing on the straw from her drink. “Don’t get cocky, or your bad karma will ruin this for us all.”
“Karma,” Jett huffed, blowing a purple lock out of her eyes. “Such bullshit.”
Tash shook her head and pointed the straw at Jett in a scolding gesture. “You won’t be saying that when karma does get you. Just don’t drag us into it.”
Jett rolled her eyes and snorted. “You sound like a fucking hippie.”
I barely paid attention to their banter. My gaze was on the stage where Rowen was doing sound check. His hands moved over his bass, sliding down the neck as he plucked through the strings. Feeling my eyes on him, he glanced up with a goofy, little half smile. Why did he have to be so damn irresistible?
The rest of the band joined him, even Arrow, who held himself with more attitude than usual. He’d cleaned up his nose pretty well, but some light bruising spread out beneath his eyes. Too bad that the bruise only served to add to his bad boy look. My hand still ached from the punch, but it was worth it.
Even from where I sat, I could see the tension between Rowen and Arrow. It must have been pretty palpable because Jett leaned over to me with a snicker and said, “Trouble in paradise. I hope they blow it.”
Again I was torn, only partially sharing her sentiment. I drank the rest of my vodka and ordered another. I was going to need it to get through the rest of the night.
Dash was nowhere to be seen. The DJ cut the music when the band was ready to begin. The emcee announced them, and the drunken rockers gathered once again in front of the stage hooting and hollering, hands raised in the devil sign.
Arrow and Rowen stood close together, exchanging words nobody could hear but the two of them. When Rowen backed away to his side of the stage, he looked pissed. His arms shook as he held the bass tight, as if he might swing it at Arrow. But then Greyson pounded out a steady drumbeat, and everyone began to play his part.
I sat stiffly, unable to relax as I watched Molly’s Chamber do what they did best. My gaze traveled over each of them in turn: Greyson, his face set into a focused grimace as he maintained the beat. Sam, head banging in time to that beat as his fingers produced an intricate riff. Rowen, his hands going through the motions of the notes buried in his memory while his gaze strayed to Arrow, who was playing the part of the rock star, pretending to be unaware of his brother’s dark stare.
It quickly became apparent that Arrow was very far from sober. A combination of coke, booze, and God knows what else made him careless and clumsy. The audience either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I cringed as I watched, wondering if perhaps karma was a thing and Arrow was about to get his.
They made it into their third song before Arrow lost his balance and fell into Rowen, almost taking him down. Anger creased Rowen’s brow, and he used his bass to fling Arrow away.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They should have kept going as if nothing had happened. Instead, they exchanged words, ugly words, judging from the look on Arrow’s face as he spat something at Rowen.
I held my breath, sensing that this was going to get worse before it got better. Rowen said something back, something only Arrow could make out. Drugs, or maybe just his personality, had Arrow puffed up with sudden aggression.
Rowen held up both hands in a `bring it on’ motion. Greyson and Sam exchanged a look but kept playing. Arrow didn’t hesitate. He dropped the microphone and lunged at Rowen.
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
Jett said, “Fuck yeah.”
The crowd fell into silence as they took in the scene. Then they erupted in a cry of encouragement.
Rowen let his bass hit the stage. The brawl happened so fast, it was hard to keep up with each fist. I couldn’t look away though I flinched with each landed punch. Security guys swarmed the stage, dragging the two of them apart before any se
rious damage could be done.
To their credit, Sam and Greyson didn’t stop playing. They both looked as horrified as I felt. Arrow held up both hands in a show of surrender. He appeared to be pleading for a chance to finish the show. The crowd was going nuts.
A security guy looked to Rowen with a brow raised. Rowen, banged up but fine, nodded that he wanted to keep playing. Fetching his bass, he slung it over his shoulder and jumped back in as if nothing had happened.
Arrow ate up the fan reaction. He grabbed the mic and hurled himself into the audience, crowd surfing with a maniacal grin lighting up his face.
Eventually his high would wear off. Would he regret anything though? I couldn’t imagine he had it in him.
“That was fucking spectacular,” Jett gushed. “Kind of hot really.” She nudged me with an elbow, but I couldn’t share her amusement.
“They’re definitely going to win now,” Rubi mused, playing with her phone, unimpressed. “Nothing like throwing down on stage to win over the crowd.”
I scanned the building, trying to use my sixth sense as well as my eyes. Where was Dash? It felt like something he’d have influenced. He might have been lurking, incorporeal, but there was no way of knowing for sure. I couldn’t always tell.
Waiting for the rest of their set to end was tough. I couldn’t sit still. The second that the lights went dark after their final song, I shoved through the crowd to get to the stage.
Arrow vacated the stage first. He pushed by me with a sneer, knocking me aside as he went. “Happy now, Spike?”
“Yeah, I’m really fucking thrilled.” My sarcastic retort was spoken to his retreating form. Asshole.
Rowen exited the stage, sweaty and angry. He clutched his bass in a white-knuckle grip. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“You don’t want to wait for the results?” I reached to touch his face but stopped, uncertain. “Are you ok?”
“Someone will text us. I need to get the hell out of here right now.” He stared off toward the backstage stairs, in the direction Arrow had gone. “Is it cool if I crash at your place tonight?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Leaving before we heard the final results was not easy. Not because I wanted so badly to hang around but because Jett was furious.
“Are you kidding me?” She pulled me aside to ream me out in privacy, though the glare she shot Rowen didn’t keep it all that private. “You’re going to bail out and leave us because of a guy? That’s not how this works, Spike.”
“I know.” And I did. We had formed a pact. The band came first. Men, we could take ’em or leave ’em. At least it had been that way until Tash got so heavily involved with Mr. Country. “But this isn’t just some guy, Jett. This is a guy who is like me. Who needs me. I don’t ride your ass every time you run off because of pack business. Well, this is nephilim business, and I need to leave.”
Her dark eyes flashed dangerously. Winning this competition meant a lot to her, possibly more than it meant to anyone else. Still, life was more than climbing the ladder to the next rung. I wanted a music career as badly as she did, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice who I was for it. And right then Rowen needed me.
“Whatever,” she muttered, shutting down like she often did when she was ticked off and trying to keep a lid on her temper. “Go then. I’ll call you later.”
Pretending not to notice her pout, I gave her a quick hug and stopped by the table to say goodbye to Tash and Rubi. They seemed confused but bid me farewell with much less drama than Jett.
“Sorry about that,” Rowen said when we were outside, away from the loud noise. “I didn’t mean to piss off your friend.”
Both of us walked with a guitar case on our back. The vodka had left me a little tipsy, so I had to focus extra hard on walking with the guitar on my back and five-inch heels on my feet.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s high strung. It’s kind of a werewolf thing. Or maybe it’s just a Jett thing.”
“Werewolf,” he repeated, nodding to himself as if that made perfect sense. He was quiet for a moment, head down, watching his feet as he took each step. “This isn’t the first fight Arrow and I have had. It may be the worst though, because of the audience.”
“That was shitty of him.” I readjusted the guitar on my back, unsure of what else to say. I could offer very little to make Rowen feel any better about the brother he still didn’t know he had.
“You know what he said to me on stage, right before we started to play?” He didn’t wait for a response, rushing on as if he had to get the words out. “He said he was supposed to protect me from you and that you seduced him the night of the house party to try to get some dirt on me. So he took the picture to use as blackmail, to keep you away from me. For my own safety.”
“The fuck?” I stopped dead in my tracks, nearly losing my balance. It was the lamest attempt Arrow could have possibly made to redirect the blame, but it lit a fire of rage that licked a fiery path to the tips of my toes until I was engulfed in it. “That conniving piece of shit.”
I spun on a heel, awkwardly, and headed back the way we’d came. Rowen caught my elbow, bringing me to a halt.
“Spike, don’t. Please. It’s not worth it.” Rowen looked absolutely crestfallen, and I hated Arrow even more. “Let’s just go.”
As much as I wanted to slam my fist into Arrow’s face again, I saw the pain in Rowen’s amber-gold eyes, and my anger dissipated. I followed him for a block until we reached the side street where his Charger was parked. After laying down the back seat to create more room, we deposited our guitar cases in the trunk.
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I felt someone watching us. Someone unseen. Dash, most likely. Or Koda. I wasn’t sure which was the lesser evil. Neither probably. Evil was evil.
We got into the car and drove away, leaving our watcher behind. Rowen glanced back in the rear view mirror. “Who do you think that was?”
His gifts were becoming more pronounced. The veil between him and the rest of us was fading fast.
“Probably Dash,” I said, staring out the window, seeking red eyes. “He’s after you, Rowen. And only Arrow can tell you why.”
“Why can’t you tell me? You know something.” When his question was met with my awkward silence, he added, “Spike?”
“It’s because of who your father is,” I said, propping an elbow against the cool glass of the window. “The dark wants all nephilim. They think we belong with them because we’re the offspring of sin. But sometimes they want us for other reasons. Like a powerful father. Like yours.”
Rowen pondered this in silence as we drove. I prayed silently that he wouldn’t press me further. I could not be the one to tell him that Arrow was his brother. That was on Arrow. It had to be.
“And what about you?” he asked. “Why does Koda have such an obsession with you? Because of your father?”
I let out a breath in a rush of air and turned in my seat to look at him. “You noticed that, huh? I’m not sure what Koda’s deal is. But I don’t think it’s about who my father is. I think it has more to do with the rarity of female nephilim.”
“So we’re both in danger,” Rowen said, giving the car some gas, making it growl. “Once we choose a side, does that change?”
“Just the circumstances. The danger will never really go away.”
Rowen fell into a thoughtful silence. The radio played the local station that put on the battle of the bands event. Broadcasting from The Spirit Room, the DJ broke in between songs to announce that the final two bands would be announced any minute. Rowen reached over and turned the radio off, plunging us into quiet. The only sound was that of the Charger as it prowled along the city streets.
“I think I want to choose. There’s no point in waiting if it only encourages guys like Dash.” He shook his head, knocking the hair out of his eyes. “Why haven’t you chosen yet? What’s stopping you?”
I was surprised to hear him say he wanted to choose a side. I
t made me feel insecure, ashamed really, that I’d known our situation for so much longer and was still undecided while he was ready to proclaim his choice.
“Fear.” I wasn’t big on lies, and Rowen felt like someone I could be honest with. “I’m afraid of being unable to live with the repercussions of my choice. Not to mention making the wrong choice. That worry lingers in the back of my mind too. I don’t handle commitment so well.”
He nodded in understanding, glancing at me in the dark when we stopped at a red light. The glow of the dash lit up part of his face in an eerie light. “I think it’s very clear what side we should choose. The more I discover about all this, the more I know that I don’t want to end up like Arrow. I care about him, but…”
It was my turn to nod, knowing why he felt the way he did. If Rowen chose the light, it would be the absolute best thing for him, though it might never free him of Dash and others like him. If the demons realized he was close to making his decision, it would only encourage them to win him over.
“Choosing the light doesn’t free us from the demons who seek us,” I said. “But it does give us a strong foundation to base our resistance on.”
“So why wait?” he asked.
I had no answer to that.
We arrived at my apartment to find it just how I’d left it. Cinder’s ward was still in place. I led Rowen inside, flicking on the lights to kill the shadows, finding comfort in the illumination of the artificial bulbs.
Rowen propped his bass case against the side of the couch. “Thanks for letting me stay here tonight. I just know, if I go home, things will get out of hand.”
“No problem. You’re welcome here anytime.”
We stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. I was overcome with the urge to touch him but afraid to do so. Everything was so messed up, and I couldn’t help but feel partially to blame. When Rowen pulled me into his arms and kissed me, a thousand voices rose up in protest, and I silenced them all.