Page 123 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

In the far distance, jagged mountain ranges rise, their peaks touched by the warm hues of the setting sun. The shifting shadows play across the landscape.

Eden was a genius to choose this place to live. One doesn’t need sophisticated equipment to know someone is approaching. She could see them coming from miles away, allowing her to escape in the opposite direction.

I have no idea how long I’ve been out here, but the sweat droplets from my forehead run down into my eyes, and I wipe them away with my forearm.

Taking out my phone again, I realize the signal is low. There’s no way I’ll be able to send photos of this place to Sierra to get building quotes. I think there’s an excellent opportunity to expand this property. Now, all I have to do is get Eden on board with us moving in with her.

Chapter 33

Our new manager iscreating a massive buzz for us. Needless to say, she and Eden are getting on like two peas in a pod. The original person, whom the record label suggested, had already committed to another band but recommended their colleague Flavia Fratti. It’s not often you run into female music managers for rock bands, but she’s unique in having planted her feet in this industry for two decades and specializes in start-up bands.

Flavia says we’re a bit more unique than beginners because people are curious creatures and always want to know the“what happened” part of our story.

We’ve finished recording our first single and the label wants to release it fast on social media. So, not only do we need to get a video done, but we also need to start promos for it. Creating a buzz also means participating in interviews and sitting on chat show sofas with popular interview hosts.

And that’s precisely what we’re doing on The Earl Ridley Show, an online talk show that generates millions of regular weekly viewers. I'm not sure how Flavia managed it, but she tends to work her connections like a magic wand. She stirs the pot until she gets what she wants.

“So you’re all back,” Earl Ridley smiles at us. “Some of you have gone a one-eighty on your looks. Callum and Eden have had the biggest drastic changes of style,” he addresses my two bandmates, waiting for a reaction and probably a reply from them.

I watch Eden sitting on the sofa across from me. Flavia’s already coached her on all the questions she might be asked. It might not beobvious to the live audience, but she’s nervous. Only a week ago, we rescued Storm from Terra Sands. Rather than get slowed down by recent events, we’ve pushed through and practically lived in the recording studio until our production manager was satisfied we completed our first song.

With everything going on, Eden hasn’t had time to process what happened, and I’m afraid that if she stops moving, it might dawn on her how serious and risky her security currently is. Rick has started vetting all our staff, from the drivers who deliver us to venues such as this one in downtown LA, to screening the gardening and cleaning firm that passes through the gates of Haze’s home.

Eden’s given Catalina time off to recover from her attack, sent her to her sister in New York and is now taking Storm to his physio along with the bodyguard and an extra guy trailing them to be cautious.

Jagger mentioned we should all start a self-defense and firearms course. Haze has jumped to the opportunity and booked us all private instruction. But honestly, I’ve been using my fists in pubs for years, and they have never failed me. I think all of us lads can hold well in a fight.

But guns are a whole different matter for me.

First, I’m a musician, a drummer, not some gun-toting maniac. With all due respect to Jagger, who’s served and had to learn the brutal way, gun training was never in my top ten list of new things to try out.

Eden agrees with me but admits she owns several guns stored at Terra Sands that even Catalina doesn’t know about. She’s also already taken self-defense and firearms instruction in the past.

“It’s for protection,” she explained as I observed her remove a few firearms from the safe in her bedroom closet and pop them into a bag to take them with her to LA.

It was surprising to see her with something she advocated against in the past. But she’s been terrorized to the point where I can understand two women living a zillion miles from civilization might need some kind of security. But now, everywhere she goes here in LA, she carries one in her bag.

We’re not vigilantes; we're musicians.

My gaze travels to Callum, sitting at the end of the sofa, seemingly withdrawn from this interview. I love the bastard, but I wouldn’t trust him with a gun, and the way he glares at the interviewer is precisely why. He’s naturally volatile. Usually calm asa button, sitting in the shadows, minding his own business, but rub him the wrong way, and without warning, you’ll meet his wrath with his fist in your face.

“You going somewhere with a question, Earl?” Eden asks. The audience chuckles, and she then leans in closer to the interviewer. “Do you disapprove of us branching out and discovering who we are?”

Good question. Despite the shite Eden’s been through, she isn’t a wallflower. She’s bold and can hold her own well, especially with notoriously brutal interviewers such as Earl Ridley, known for putting out questions that make his subjects look ridiculous and bringing out online trolls to massacre them.

“Is this who you discovered you are? Is this the real Eden?” Earl responds.

“If I told you that the person sitting on your couch talking to you right now is a holographic image of me and I’m really somewhere else, would you believe me?”

“Ughh, no, because you’re here in the flesh.”

“But the people watching behind the screen don’t know the truth. Maybe Eden Rivers from Sonic Revolution is dead. Maybe she died while still in the Sugar Vixens, and everyone’s just been getting a fake to feed into your screen desires. How do you know what’s real and what’s fake? That video of her with her bandmates that everyone saw could have been fake. Deep Fake, to be exact. Maybe Eden Rivers never existed, to begin with? She was too clean, too perfect.”

The guys are one step from cracking into a fit of laughter, and Earl is one step away from having a fit in front of his live audience.

“Do you currently have a relationship with any of your band members?”

Bastard has nothing better to ask? All of us stir uncomfortably.

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