Nicola C. Matthews
Angel H. Scott
© 2016 by Nicola C. Matthews
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
an imprint of X-Isle United Publishers
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to any other written publication is coincidental and not intended by the author.
“I can’t fucking believe I let you two talk me into this shit,” Jeremy said with a growl as he reluctantly left his seat and followed the beautiful blonde to the stage. He shoved his long, black hair out of his face as he glanced back, his intense blue eyes glowing unnaturally in his pale face as he saw Ash and Christopher giggling like a couple of school girls.
Jeremy frowned, stealthily flipping them off as he turned back toward the woman who was dressed in a black leotard, a tailored tuxedo coat, and black stilettos. At nearly six feet tall, he could almost look her in the eye without her wearing the heels. The added three inches made her nearly the same height as he. It was a welcome change to the barely five-feet-tall women who had come crashing into the rest of the band’s lives over the past year.
Jeremy’s eyes roamed over the tall, slender blonde, the smell of her delicate jasmine perfume trailing behind her as she teetered in her heels. He wondered if her ass looked as good as her legs did, but her luscious curves were currently hidden behind the ugly tails of her faux tuxedo jacket. As the two of them came to the stage, she nearly toppled over as she climbed the steps. Jeremy grabbed her arm to keep her from landing face-first into the stage.
“Damn, woman, you okay?” he asked as he helped her up the last step.
“Yes,” she said as she brushed her long hair out of her face. She smiled at him as she stared into the depths of blue eyes which shone intensely in a face with full lips, sculpted cheekbones, and a nose which seemed to have been bestowed upon him by the Roman gods. His broad shoulders strained against the fabric of the Profane Remains tee-shirt he was wearing. Her eyes traveled down the length of him, taking in his tight jeans and black boots.
Damn. She wondered if his ass looked as good in those jeans as the rest of him did.
“I just don’t walk that great in heels,” she managed to mutter quietly as she pulled at the hem of her jacket, the fabric stretched tightly across a set of double-D tits that seemed eager to be free of their prison. She swallowed hard, trying not to stare at him. Most of the time she didn’t mind her atrocious assistant’s outfit, but for some reason, seeing his eyes roam over her body made her squirm uncomfortably inside the ridiculous costume.
As Jeremy stared at her chest, wondering what it would take to get her out of her stage clothes, she cleared her throat. She looked pointedly at him as she held out her hand toward the tall, black box sitting in the middle of the stage.
“Sir, right this way,” The Great Georgio said as he motioned for Jeremy to step inside the box.
He looked out into the crowd, quickly catching sight of his two band mates hunkered down in the back row, laughing hysterically. “If I don’t make it out of this dog and pony show with my dignity intact, I’m taking a stake to those two dickheads,” he muttered as he stepped into the box.
“There’s a secret door in the back,” the blonde assistant whispered as she began to shut and lock the three separate doors along the front of the box, starting at his feet and working her way up as she latched each section in turn. She tried to ignore his heavily tattooed, perfectly toned biceps.
His intense blue eyes watched her every move, making it incredibly hard for her to concentrate on what she was doing. She had to resist the urge to cross her arms over her chest. His unwavering gaze was making her extremely self-conscious.
“As soon as this last panel closes,” she said as she worked, “sneak out the back and through the curtain. Security will meet you backstage and take you to your seat. The lighting crew will shine a spotlight on you at the end, so be prepared to stand up and take a bow.”
She quickly closed the last panel, fumbling with the lock as she tried to get the ill-fitting latch to close over the metal loop in the side of the box. She could hear their volunteer feeling around for the hidden handle, followed by the soft whisper of the black velvet curtain as he slipped unnoticed out of the secret door.
The Great Georgio’s assistant struggled to get the last lock in place, heaving a sigh of relief as she finally got the latch to close. She took a step back and held up her arms in an exaggerated flourish just like she had been doing three to four times a week for the past eight plus years of her life. The heel of her stiletto caught in the pile of velvet where the curtain pooled on the stage. She gasped as she felt her foot slip, the three inch spike of her shoe puncturing its way right through the heavy fabric.
She knew it was too late to right herself even as she grasped desperately at the fabric around her, trying in vain to regain her balance. She felt her entire body falling, her hands reaching out instinctively to grab hold of the curtain. She succeeded in pulling the entire contraption with her, pole and all.
Jeremy had barely stepped through the parted curtain when he felt the soft breeze lick across his skin. The small gasp of the woman was the only warning he had before the entire stage curtain began to rip loose from the rod positioned more than twenty feet above the stage. A loud, metallic clang caught Jeremy’s attention, causing him to glance upward toward the large rod swinging violently as the curtain was torn loose. A split second later it dislodged from its chains and the entire contraption came crashing down to the stage.
He knew he couldn’t have gotten out of the way even if he had tried, even with his vampire speed. He let out a short, “Fuck me!” before the pole landed squarely on the top of his head.
The assistant fell into the large pile of fabric, landing with a soft thud. She groaned under her breath, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. She rolled over, hoping their volunteer had managed to make it off the stage. It was bad enough she had ruined the entire show; she certainly hoped she hadn’t gotten him caught up in this disaster as well.
The woman struggled to get free of the mountain of velvet, feeling her heart sink as she caught sight of their volunteer lying unmoving a few feet away, the heavy metal rod which had been holding the curtain still partially covering his upper back. A large, thick pool of blood gathered beside him on the floor.
“Oh fuck!” she yelled as she struggled to her feet. She staggered over to Jeremy, tripping over the fabric a few times in her haste. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay,” she whispered repeatedly as she knelt beside him, reaching out but too afraid to touch him.
“Holy fuck, Jeremy, I know you like to be the center of attention and everything, but damn, I think maybe this is taking things a bit too far.”
The assistant looked up as his two friends seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She let out a little yelp of surprise as she fell back into the hard body of Jeremy where he lay sprawled out on the floor.
“Dude, you okay?” Ash asked as he knelt beside Jeremy, trying to shake their unconscious guitarist awake.
Jeremy could feel a heavy body on him as the darkness slowly subsided from his line of vision. “Yeah, I’m alright, I think. Get the fuck off me, lady,” he said as he struggled to get the assistant and the curtain rod off of his body.
The blonde scrambled to get off of their volunteer, taking a step back as Jeremy slowly got to his feet.
He moved his hand cautiously to his head, feeling the wound tenderly with his fingers. “Fuck, I think that damn thing cracked open my skull.”
The young woman gawked at him with wide eyes, her brain trying to wrap itself around the fact he had just been bleeding and unconscious on the floor. “Um, are you okay?” she asked incredulously, not sure this guy should be up walking around after having half the stage fall on his head. “Maybe you should see a doctor or something?”
Jeremy rubbed the spot on his head, the blood slowly drying as the wound knitted itself back together. “Fuck that, I hate doctors. I’m fine, just need some fresh blood so my skull will close.”
Ash pulled Jeremy over so he could inspect the gaping wound on the top of his friend’s head. “Hmm, it’s just as I suspected.”
“What?” Jeremy asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
“I always said you had shit-for-brains, and now I see it’s true.”
Jeremy grunted as he slapped Ash’s hand away from his head. “You are fucking hilarious. Can we get outta here now? I’m hungry and my head hurts, thanks for asking, you fucker.”
“Yeah, probably a good idea, before the photo hounds get wind of this and we end up on the front page of every newsletter this side of the Mississippi,” Chris said as the three of them turned to make their way off the stage.
“Wait!” the assistant said as she rushed after them. “I need your name and number. Our lawyers are going to have a shit-ton of questions, and you’ll need to sign a release of liability-”
She stopped short as the three men turned to glare at her, all of their eyes glowing unnaturally in their pale faces. “I’m not signing shit, and if by some miracle a vampire can actually sustain any type of permanent brain damage, I’m sure my lawyers will be in touch with you,” Jeremy said rather matter-of-factly as they all turned and promptly disappeared from the stage, leaving Alicia staring after them in astonished silence.
“Holy fuck, that guy was a vampire?” The Great Georgio asked as he came up behind Alicia, his round, chubby face shining with perspiration. “I swear, these days I think there are more vampires than humans roaming around.”
She continued to stare off into the distance where the three of them had disappeared, watching as security slowly cleared the area. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice sounding faint. “That’s what he said.”
She turned to eyeball the pool of blood on the floor. It was quickly drying, the edges already turning black and ashy as it decomposed rapidly right before her eyes. “How else could someone get up and walk away from having his skull cracked open like a cantaloupe?”
“Well, Alicia, I hope for your sake he really is a vampire and is going to be okay. I’d hate like fuck to have to fire you because he sued our asses,” Georgio said as he turned to leave. “Can vampires even hire lawyers?” he mumbled to himself as he wobbled off the stage, his belly jiggling slightly inside his tuxedo as he walked.
She grimaced, turning her back to her employer. This wasn’t the first time she had ruined the show, and it wasn’t the first time he had threatened to fire her over it. She honestly didn’t know why he didn’t get someone else, someone who wasn’t so damn accident prone. She imagined there wasn’t a whole lot of attractive women who wanted to travel the lower half of the country in the back of a van which reeked of puke and beer with an employer who was twice her age and hornier than any eighteen-year-old male she had ever encountered. She was surprised his dick hadn’t fallen off long before now as much as he liked to jerk off in the back of said van, while she was driving, often while he whispered her name.
Alicia shuddered as she spotted a small light beneath the heap of fabric. She moved the curtains aside, smiling as she saw the little cell phone lighting up with an incoming call from someone named Andy Savage. She might not know who their mystery volunteer had been, but she was pretty sure she just had all the answers to her questions delivered to her courtesy of this small device.