Rebel Heart series Box Set Read online

  The bass line was next, and Tash came in right on time. Smoke between my lips and black hair hanging in my face, I channeled my inner Slash. The notes danced out of my fingertips as I played one of my favorite songs by one of the greatest rock bands of all time. I was in my element.

  Rubi came in with the steady beat of drums, and everything clicked. Music was a deeply ingrained part of me. Would I have to give it up if I joined Cinder and the light? God, I hoped not. When I played, I became the music. And it felt like a gift.

  A goofy smile lit Jett’s face. She watched us like a proud mother, nodding her head in time to the music. She opened her mouth to sing, but then the door opened.

  Arrow stood in the doorway. The music stumbled to a stop as we all took notice of him. I blinked a few times, unable to believe my eyes. What in the ever-loving crap was he doing here?

  Jett recovered from the surprise interruption first. “What the fuck are you doing here? You wouldn’t happen to be stalking us, would you?”

  Her dark eyes became wolf, and I half expected her to bare fangs at him. She didn’t. The predatory stare she fixed on Arrow brought a wan smile to his face.

  With a half-assed shrug he said, “Sorry. I knocked, but you guys couldn’t hear me. It’s no big secret that you jam here. My buddy’s band jams at the other end of the lot. I came by, saw the cars outside, and thought I’d say hello.”

  Jett and I exchanged a look. She was the only one who knew what Arrow was. Keeping it from Tash and Rubi had been for their own safety. Knowing of the nephilim was one thing but knowing who they were could get you killed.

  “Bullshit,” I said, eyeing him with suspicion.

  He turned his hazel eyes on me, and they sparkled with mischief. “Ok, it’s bullshit. I came to talk to you. But you could humor me, offer me a drink or something.” He pointed at the beer in Jett’s hand.

  “Get out.” My tone was harsh with sudden, thinly veiled vehemence. Arrow was a ballsy piece of shit, that was for sure. I despised him, and I barely knew him.

  Unfazed by my rude demand, Arrow strode inside and took the seat on the couch I’d just vacated. The chains hanging from his jeans clinked as he sat. Pulling a pack of smokes from a back pocket, he pulled one out, acting surprised when a small bag of white powder fell out with it. Holding the bag up, he shook it as if it were filled with the secrets of the universe. To some people, perhaps it was.

  Sticking the cigarette between his lips, he asked, “Anyone interested? I always give free samples to first time buyers.”

  I glanced at the other girls, finding they all wore similar expressions of distaste. A few years back, when the band had first formed, we’d gone through a rough time that included some heavy drug use that went far beyond the mellow buzz of marijuana. It had left us all feeling less than satisfied with ourselves. Knowing we were better than that, we’d sworn off the hard stuff.

  “Not interested,” I answered for all of us. “Not today. Not ever.”

  Arrow looked long and hard at me. He stared so long without saying anything that the tension in the room grew tangibly thick.

  It came as no shock that Arrow was peddling hard street drugs. It seemed to be the type of thing his kind would do. He held the bag up a moment longer before stuffing it back into his smoke pack.

  “Ok then,” he said, his gaze still upon me. “The offer always stands if you change your mind.”

  “So, I guess you’ll just be on your way now.” Jett pointed with the mic at the open door.

  Arrow rose, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he helped himself to a beer from our fridge. I stared at him, aghast. This little voice inside me cried out that he was the enemy. It became undeniably clear in that moment that, should I choose to live as a human, Arrow and others like him would still be creeping around, planting seeds of addiction and suffering and God only knew what else. That wouldn’t change.

  “Dude, who the fuck do you think you are?” Jett was getting mad now. She spoke around a set of fangs that still looked as menacing as they had the first time I saw them.

  Arrow popped the cap off the beer and smirked. “I’m pretty sure you know exactly who I am.”

  Rubi and Tash watched Jett with trepidation. Her reaction to Arrow was telling, making it obvious that there was more to him than met the eye. Keeping his attention off them was important.

  “You said you wanted to talk to me?” I took off my guitar and placed it in a stand. “Then let’s talk. Outside.”

  I stood beside the open door. Arrow, enjoying the awkward tension he was causing, took his time ambling out. He paused to glance back at the girls with a slimy smile before disappearing outside.

  Jett dropped her mic. “You are not going out there alone with him.”

  I gave her a look, or at least I tried to. She was being too obvious. “It’s cool. He’s just a drug dealing douchebag. I’ll be right back.”

  I followed Arrow out and closed the door behind me before Jett could argue. I heard Rubi say, “What the fuck was that all about?”

  I held the doorknob until I was sure Jett wasn’t about to burst out behind me in a flurry of fangs and claws. When she didn’t, I followed Arrow into the parking lot.

  Before he could speak, I said, “Don’t ever come here again. In fact, don’t ever come near me at all.”

  “Big words from the undecided angel girl.” He dragged on his cigarette and regarded me with both amusement and hostility. “You don’t get to make the rules, Spike. Haven’t you figured that part out yet?”

  “Why?” I asked, having no retort to that. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

  Arrow’s black hair spilled out from beneath the knit cap that hung off the back of his head. A smudge of eyeliner beneath his eyes gave him a haunted appearance. He was heavily tattooed, his arms a mass of color one would have to study closely to pick apart. A winding vine with a black rose wound its way from beneath his t-shirt up the side of his neck.

  He caught me looking at it. “That one is my newest. Turned out pretty good, huh? Nice wings by the way. I bet that took a long time. You could have real wings, you know. One day.”

  “Yes. I know.” I spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m undecided not some ignorant newbie. So if you came to fuck with my head, let me save you some time. Don’t bother. I’m on to you.” Feeling self-conscious in my sheer top that revealed the wings spanning my back, I angled my body so that he couldn’t see even a smidge of them.

  “Are you?” He breathed the words, low and menacing, exhaling smoke as he did so. He leaned in close so I could smell the musky scent of his cologne mingled with beer. “If you want to get all over me, baby, there’s no resistance here.”

  I frowned and somehow managed to suppress a shudder. In a cool, calm tone, I said, “Everything about you repulses me.”

  “You don’t know everything about me. Be careful what you say. You may have to eat those words.” He laughed then, revealing a tongue stud, his only visible piercing.

  “You’re dark. That’s all I need to know.” I crossed my arms so they weren’t hanging awkwardly at my sides. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to take him on. Cinder’s warnings echoed in my head. I was so inexperienced.

  “Does that mean you’ve made your choice?” Arrow studied me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. When I didn’t answer, his gaze dropped, taking in all of me. “Women are rare among our kind. It would be a damn shame to lose a fox like you to the light.”

  “Ew, you’re kidding, right?” I sneered. “Me and you? It’s never gonna happen, dude.”

  Standing there while he ogled me wasn’t easy. I knew he was just trying to rattle me. Either that or he was a total pervy dick, or maybe both. But I stared in stony silence at him while he looked me over like a used car he was thinking about buying.

  “Do you have any idea how amazing a night together would be? Fucking a nephilim is a trip for a human. Ever wonder what it is about us that gets them so h
ot?” Arrow puffed on his cigarette, blowing a cloud of smoke up toward the sky that stretched black above us.

  His sleazy nature did nothing to incite my interest. It did however, bring to mind my last boyfriend’s claim that sex with me was so intense that it was like an out of body experience. He’d described it like a drug trip. I had never been with another nephilim. Judging by the lecherous way Arrow was eyeing me, neither had he.

  “I am not fucking you,” I said, unable to keep the disgust from my tone. Was this going to be a thing? Would male nephilim be constantly seeking me out for a good time? Fuck that shit.

  “Because you’re into Rowen,” he said with a knowing head bob.

  I had no idea what Arrow knew about Rowen. If this was some ploy to get me to spill what I knew, then the joke was on Arrow because I didn’t really know shit.

  “I barely know Rowen. And I sure as hell don’t know you, and I don’t really want to.” A tingle started in my palms, so I clenched my hands into fists.

  “Might as well get used to it. We’re part of the same world. You’re going to get to know me whether you like it or not.” Arrow cocked his head to one side and grinned. “Besides, I’m not such a bad guy. Really. You’ll see.”

  A sinking sensation settled in my stomach. I had a horrible feeling that he was right, that this wasn’t the last I’d be seeing of Arrow.

  “Why did you really come here?” I demanded. “Don’t tell me it was just to see if you could bang me. You could’ve tried that at The Spirit Room.”

  He wasn’t fooling me. I was starting to suspect that he’d been sent to talk to me, or at least, sent to scope me out and gather some dirt. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. Wasn’t Koda enough? Did the dark really have to send Arrow of all people?

  “I just wanted to chat with you. Remind you that you have options that you need to consider carefully.” He reached out to run a finger along my side, around to my lower back, over the edge of a tattooed feather.

  Adrenaline pounded through my veins, and I jumped back out of reach. A streak of fire shot through the sky overhead. A moment later sparks began to rain down around us. Over the years I’d had a lot of practice controlling my fire, but nothing could set it off like an emotional outburst. Like most times I’d unintentionally caused something to happen, I felt both embarrassed and afraid.

  Arrow glanced up at the falling fire before dropping his smoke and squishing it with a Converse-clad foot. “So the girl can make fire,” he commented casually. “You and I would make a great team. Just wait until you see what I can do.”

  “You’re assuming I’ll choose a side,” I countered, clenching my fists tight. “Maybe I’ll just say fuck the whole thing and play human for the rest of my life.”

  Arrow laughed bitterly, and something like anger flashed in his eyes. Then he was his sardonic self again. “You can try, but you’ll be a sitting duck, just waiting to be picked off. Might as well join a side and have a fighting chance.”

  “You’ve made your choice.” I shivered from the chill of the fall night or perhaps from my growing unease. “I’ll make mine. Nothing you say or do is going to sway my decision.”

  He held up a hand in surrender. In the other hand he held the beer he’d swiped. “Not here to sway. Just to invite.”

  “Yeah, well you can take your invitation and shove it up your ass.” Goosebumps prickled on my arms. I rubbed them briskly and squinted up into the night sky. I should’ve set Arrow on fire instead.

  “Up the ass, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” Arrow finished the beer and tossed the empty bottle at the large garbage bin near the edge of the parking lot. It smashed against the open lid.

  My temper was normally relatively stable. It took a lot to really piss me off. Something about Arrow, however, threw my mental calm out the window. Just looking at his smug face made me livid.

  The tingle in my palms returned, growing quickly into an itch. Though I feared starting one hell of a fire, I wanted to drive Arrow off. He watched with something that looked a little like gleeful anticipation, like he wanted me to take a shot at him.

  Neither of us got the chance to find out what kind of damage I could do, if any at all. The air moved unnaturally with the telltale current of either an angel or demon. We were no longer alone.

  My heart tripped in an unsteady beat as I feared the worst. If Arrow hadn’t come alone, I was screwed. But he appeared just as wary as I was at the sensation.

  “Your guardian came to chase me off,” Arrow said, glancing about expectantly, waiting for our unseen visitor to appear. “Must be nice to have a white lighter come riding to your rescue.”

  When Cinder appeared next to me, I was relieved at first but then mortified. He never stood in front of me nor behind, instead showing that he regarded me as an equal by standing beside me. Still, the damage was done. His arrival effectively ended the conversation with Arrow while making it seem like I couldn’t handle things on my own.

  Arrow was already stalking across the parking lot to the metallic-black BMW parked next to Jett’s convertible. Selling drugs was apparently quite the moneymaker for him.

  He swung the door open and paused long enough to say, “See ya on Saturday, Spike.”

  “What’s on Saturday?” Cinder asked, his voice low and his gaze fixed on the black car as it sped out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.

  I watched the taillights of Arrow’s car until they could no longer be seen. “Round two of the Battle of the Bands at The Spirit Room.”

  “You shouldn’t go,” Cinder stated, short, clipped, and matter of fact.

  “Oh, I’m going. We have a real chance to win this thing. There’s no way I’m going to cower at home and let Arrow have it.”

  “I don’t trust him. He’s up to something.”

  I snapped, “No shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue?” At Cinder’s wide-eyed expression, I added, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. I’m just pissed off and taking it out on the wrong person. But I am playing that show. You can’t stop me.”

  Cinder was silent for so long that I began to grow uneasy. His demeanor was so aggressive that he looked more street thug than Abercrombie model.

  “No,” he finally said. “I can’t stop you. I don’t even want to. I want only to keep you safe as long as it’s within my power to do so.”

  “It isn’t anymore though, is it?” Years ago, when I first discovered what I was, the moment of choice had seemed so far off. It had been easy to shove it aside, promising myself I’d think about it later. The luxury of later was an illusion.

  Cinder sighed, a deep, tired sound. It worried me. He asked, “We train tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’ll be there. I promise.”

  The door opened, and Jett poked her head out. The fierce expression on her face changed to one of subdued calm at the sight of Cinder. She nodded and closed the door.

  When I looked back to Cinder, he was gone. I stood out there, alone in the dimly lit parking lot, shivering. The countdown was on.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The week passed quickly. Too quickly. Between evening jam sessions with the girls and squeezing in work and training with Cinder during the day, I kept busy. As a freelance graphic designer, I could pay my bills and set my own schedule. It was a good job. It kept me busy. I enjoyed the art though it didn’t inspire the passion I felt with music. Unfortunately, busy made the time fly by.

  When I woke up on Saturday morning, my stomach was a mess of butterflies that even Cinder’s delicious strawberry and whipped cream waffles couldn’t settle. I ignored Jett’s repeated demands that we get together for one more jam before our set that evening. Instead I paced the length of my small apartment, pausing to talk to Seth only to hear the sound of a human voice.

  Cinder had left after breakfast but not without making me promise not to let Arrow, or anyone dark, get me alone. Knowing we would have to share a dressing room with the other bands, I opted to get ready at home. The thought of being in
that small dressing area with Rowen and Arrow was suffocating.

  As I rolled a thigh-high, fishnet stocking up my leg, I replayed the conversation with Arrow outside the jam space in my mind. He was up to something, and I suspected it had to do with more than merely screwing another nephilim. My instincts had been right about him. As soon as I saw him, I had known he was trouble. The conceited dick had tried to add me on Facebook. I had promptly denied the request.

  Feeling feminine, I chose a fluffy, black, tulle tutu that ended at the top of my stockings. A black bustier gave me more cleavage than I really had, a handy little illusion. My only accessory was an angel wing pendant made of amethyst. It had been a gift from my mother.

  I curled my hair, finding comfort in the slow, meticulous repetition of the act. When my eyes were lined with thick liner and silver shadow and my lips painted as red as possible, I was ready. And then the nerves struck hard.

  Deep, calming breaths didn’t do a damn thing. So I gathered my things, stuck an unlit cigarette between my lips, and headed out the door to meet my cab. It was almost show time.

  Smoking and talking, people mingled outside The Spirit Room when I arrived. The strains of a guitar being tuned made its way out onto the street as the first band prepared to play. I peered intently at the leather-clad rockers who arrived in droves to see the four bands face off. One of which wouldn’t be going to next week’s semi-finals, but it wouldn’t be Crimson Sin getting the boot. I refused to believe otherwise.

  The sound of my name drew my attention to a couple of young guys standing near the door. One of them held a Crimson Sin CD out with a hopeful expression. I didn’t even know people bought our CDs anymore now that our music was online.

  “Sorry to bother you, Spike. I was hoping you’d sign this for me.”

  He even had a Sharpie ready. People didn’t ask for my autograph often. How could I possibly refuse? It was always humbling to have someone approach and show an interest in our music.