Page 26 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
Halfway through my set, I paused to catch my breath, scanning the sea of faces. I spotted Zane near the side of the stage, arms crossed over his chest as he watched me with naked pride in his eyes. The sight sent a flush of heat through me, remembering how those same eyes had looked at me in the darkness of my bedroom, how his hands had explored every inch of me, how his mouth had?—
"This next one is brand new," I told the audience, shifting the capo on my guitar. "Something I've been working on about finding light after darkness."
The crowd settled as I began the opening notes, a gentle melody that built gradually in intensity. I swayed, letting the music flow through me, each word carrying a piece of my journey back from the brink.
The lights flickered briefly overhead, just a quick dimming before brightening again. I faltered for half a beat before continuing, dismissing it as typical festival tech issues. The massive generators powering the event weren't always reliable. Too many acts, too much equipment, something always went wonky.
Julian was gone. It couldn't be him.
But as I moved into the bridge, something shifted. A strange sensation crept over me, starting at my fingertips where they pressed against the strings. A cold numbness spread slowly up my arms, into my chest, toward my throat. The bracelets warmed against my skin. I tried to focus on the lyrics, onmaintaining the rhythm, but my movements felt less precise, as if I were playing through thick gloves.
What the fuck?
The crowd's energy felt different. Hungrier. Their faces seemed to blur together into a mass of wanting eyes and grasping hands. My guitar felt heavier, breathing harder. I felt disconnected, like I was watching someone else perform while I floated somewhere behind my own eyes.
Stop. Something's wrong.
But I couldn't stop. I tried to look toward Zane, to anchor myself in his steady presence, but my head wouldn't turn. Panic rose in my throat as I realized I was no longer controlling my own movements.
I fought against it, struggling to regain control, but it was like trying to swim against a riptide. The more I fought, the stronger the current became, pulling me further from the surface. My voice continued singing, my fingers kept playing, but I wasn't the one driving anymore.
My fingers gripped the guitar pick tighter as I played, the small piece of plastic burning with unnatural coldness against my skin. The bracelets on my wrists burned hot now, fighting against whatever was happening. Through the fog of my trapped consciousness, a horrible realization formed: this was Julian's pick. The same one we'd used in the banishment ritual. Somehow, it had found its way back into my collection.
No, no, no. This isn't possible. We banished him.
Cold realization washed over me as I felt another consciousness stretching within my mind, filling the spaces, pushing me aside. Not gone. Julian wasn't gone at all. He'd been waiting, gathering strength, biding his time.
I screamed inside my own head, but my mouth kept singing, my face smiling at the crowd who had no idea that the personperforming for them wasn't me anymore. I could feel Julian's satisfaction, his triumph as he settled more firmly into control.
Get out! This is MY body!
His laughter echoed in my mind, mocking my helpless rage. I was trapped, a prisoner in my own skin, forced to watch as he played through the set and soaked in the thunderous applause that followed.
I fought continuously, throwing myself against the walls of my mental prison, searching for any weakness in his control. But each attempt left me weaker, my sense of self growing dimmer as Julian's presence expanded.
He's going to take everything from me. Again.
"Thank you, Silvermist!" Julian said with my voice, raising my arms in victory. "You have no idea how good it feels to be back on stage."
As he turned to leave, I saw Zane waiting in the wings with flowers in his hand and pride in his eyes. Julian spotted him too, and a cruel delight spread through our connection.
No, please. Not him. Don't hurt him.
My pleas meant nothing. Julian strode purposefully toward Zane, my hips swaying with an exaggerated movement that wasn't my natural gait. I could feel his intention forming, wanting nothing more than to destroy this new connection I'd formed and isolate me completely.
"You were incredible up there," Zane gushed.
Julian forced my face into a stiff smile. "Thanks for the flowers. Very sweet." He took them and immediately dropped them on a nearby equipment case. "But unnecessary."
My wrists throbbed painfully where the charm bracelets touched my skin. Julian kept tugging at them as if they were too tight, the metal bands itching like invisible ants crawling over my flesh.
Zane's expression shifted, confusion deepening. "River? Are you all right?"
"Never better," Julian replied, using my voice to deliver his poison. "Just seeing things clearly for the first time in a while."
"What does that mean?" Zane stiffened, and his tail went unnaturally still behind him.
Julian laughed, the sound all wrong coming from my throat. "It means this little fling was fun, but let's not pretend it was going anywhere." He stepped closer, looking up at Zane with my eyes. "What exactly did you think was happening here? That I'd stick around Silvermist playing house with a demon when my career's finally back on track?"
