Page 9 of Magic of the Damned

Night Ravage’s music was a delightful mélange of R&B and Rock, with hints of Tina Bell’s influence in the lyrics. Despite her contributions being overlooked by most, she had an everlasting fan in Emoni.

After the performance, as usual, an hour or so was spent talking to the audience, networking, selling merchandise and music. Once it was over, I helped the band take their equipment to the band’s SUV. Once everything was stored away, we stood outside the vehicle debating if we were going to go for waffles. At this point it was just pro forma. After each show, we debated this and it always ended with us at an all-night diner, eating waffles. Gus, the guitarist, draped an arm around Emoni and pressed his cheek to hers.

“That was madness! They loved us. They really did… well, they loved you.” His face was ruddier than normal, a burnished red, similar to his hair. He gave Emoni another squeeze before releasing her. “You were amazing. I told you that you had the vocal range for that song. I can’t believe you almost didn’t sing it.” He moved toward the driver’s side. “Have we decided? Waffles?”

Of course it was waffles. It was always waffles. Emoni would devour her food and eat his, too. Buzzing from the high of a show, Gus was never hungry, just looking for a reason to spend more time with Emoni.

“You know he likes you, right?” I informed her for the umpteenth time. If she sounded like a foghorn, he’d still compliment her on having the foggiest of horn voices.

She shrugged it off. “It’ll pass. He knows there’s no chance. I mean, seriously, the lead singer hooking up with the guitarist. Why not the drummer and make it even more of a cliché?” She tutted. “You’re one to talk. Tell Jackson to go away in no uncertain terms and be done with him.”

“I’ve tried.”

“You want me to talk to him?” she asked, her eyes glinting.

“No, because I don’t have bail money,” I teased.

Before she got into the SUV with Gus, I gave her an abridged version of the encounter with Dominic, discussing his curiosity about the book and how I thought he believed in witches. I left out the shift of energy between us, the cool air that grabbed me in a bear hug then relaxed into a breeze that flitted across my skin, and the whole weirdness of it. She would have simply dismissed it as a strange version of attraction between two obviously peculiar people. I couldn’t blame her. What other explanation was there?

“He asked me if I believed in the occult. Supernatural stuff! Why don’t you seem surprised?”

“If he lives around here, it’s not bizarre for him to believe in the supernatural. And he did see the book you were reading,” she pointed out. “He probably thought you were into that, too.”

“Are you kidding me? You wanted to pelt people with coffee beans if they put cream in their coffee and think people who order a frappuccino should be on a government watch list, but the man who believes in supernaturals and thinks I’m a witch gets a pass?”

“Well, one group is dangerous and should not be allowed near the general public, and the other believes in the occult. That’s quirky.”

When she flashed me a smile, I wished Reginald hadn’t sworn me to secrecy. There had to be a best friend clause or something to promises. Despite thinking his professed magical ability was utter BS, I was starting to wonder if there was something to his believing in magic.

Looking up what Dominic said to me was at the top of my list of things I wanted to research. I would do more research on magic and make a concerted effort to keep an open mind. I had a feeling the latter part was going to be really hard. For years I’d read about magic and considered it just fantasy; seeing it as anything else was going to be difficult.

CHAPTER 4

As I rushed into the bookstore the next day, it was no surprise to find Jackson waiting for me at the table near the employee lounge, flipping absently through a book. When he caught sight of me, he placed the book atop another book instead of returning it to its original spot.

“You never struck me as one who went for the tall, broody, menacing type,” he said with a pout. After my late night with Emoni and her band, the three hours I spent trying to decipher Dominic’s words, and the sleepless night caused by his accusation, my tolerance was low.

I hadn’t had nearly enough coffee or sleep to deal with him.

“Usually, I’m not,” I said. “I usually go for the boyish good looks, coltish build, average height, and tendency to accidentally fall into bed with my friend type. You know, the guy who is just arrogant enough to suggest a three-way after being caught cheating.”

He winced, but not at the part he should have. Being described as coltish and average height struck a nerve. By intentionally hitting the two things he wasn’t overly confident about, I hoped he’d just stalk away in a huff, calling me an insensitive bitch under his breath. But he let the insult roll off him. It was still a wonder how a person who thrived on unearned arrogance about everything had complex height issues about being five ten. Well, five ten and a half. He’d never let me forget that ever so important half inch only he cared about.

He rolled his eyes. “I never said a three-way. Monogamy is just so traditional and boring. It sets unattainable rules and limits on people like me. I am aware of what I have to offer and who I am. Doesn’t seem like something you should reject so flippantly.” He extended his arms to the sides, allowing me a full view of what he must have deemed impressive. “Share the wealth.”

My mouth dropped open, and I quickly snapped it shut. This was one of those times when I wished there were onlookers so I could turn to them and say, “Can you believe this asshole?”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I’m concerned about you, Luna.” His faux worry was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

“You don’t like Dominic, and this should concern me why?”

“Because he’s a complete psycho. He quietly speculated how long it would take him to choke me to death. And then openly wondered if I’d go easy into death or struggle. Who says things like that! A man like that is speaking from experience. I didn’t want to make a scene and ruin Emoni’s show, so I left. I should have kicked his fucking ass.”

Nothing about the last part was true. Emoni tolerated him during the relationship; after it ended, she had no reason to pretend to like him. Their dislike for one another was mutual. At the sight of him, I knew pelting him with coffee beans was the nicest thing she thought about doing to him. Her glare could be classified as a weapon. And if he thought for a moment that he could have kicked Dominic’s ass, he would have.

“Apparently him trying to choke you out in a bar wasn’t psycho enough, because here you are.”

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