Page 4 of Bewitching the Dragon
Damn, those were some seriously cool stage effects. She didn’t know you could buy contacts that could do that.
“Excuse me,” she said, pointing around his thick bicep. “I, um, I was planning to leave.”
“No,” he said, and grabbed her arm. Light flared, a pure, blinding white light, and then the guy was thrown away from her, smashing into the wall across from where Rahu and the singer were still tussling.
Rahu paused to look at the guy who left a man-sized hole in the plaster, and his wrestling partner took the opportunity to slug him in the mouth. Rahu punched him back and then scrambled away, toward Becca.
“I need to get you out of here,” he said. “Is there another entrance? A back way out?”
“I-I don’t know,” she stuttered, watching the two band mates struggle to regain their feet. “Probably through the kitchen, I assume.”
“Let’s go.” He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and reached for her.
“Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go anywhere with you,” she said, backing away from him. “You seemed like a nice guy initially, but this is a little too weird for me. The whole jealousy thing just because the members of the band happen to be hot is a big turnoff. Especially so soon after we’ve met.”
“You think they’re hot?” Rahu asked, his lips twisted into a scowl.
“Sure,” a masculine voice said from behind Becca. “Lots of women do. Although I’ve never heard of a daughter of light being attracted to a warlock before.”
A what?Before Becca could ask out loud, someone grabbed her arms. That white light flared again, except this time it was accompanied by a red light and so much pain she screamed as she squeezed her eyes shut against the swell of tears while her knees buckled.
Something else touched her, dulling the pain, and she nearly collapsed with relief, but then she was abruptly released and swayed as she tried to keep her feet without any assistance.
When she opened her eyes, Rahu was rolling around on the floor with three of the four bandmembers, slamming into tables and chairs and the few patrons of the bar who hadn’t rushed to get out of the way. The fourth member was lying unmoving on the ground nearby, and she hoped to God he was just unconscious and not—gulp—dead.
“Girl,” Charlotte cried out, and pulled her into her embrace. “You’re okay. I don’t know what the hell is happening, but I’m over it. Let’s get out of here and grab a bottle of wine and go to your place. I’m done with crowds for the moment.”
“Me too,” Becca said, and she allowed her friend to lead her out of the bar. She glanced back only one time to make sure Rahu wasn’t getting the ever-loving snot beat out of him.
He seemed to be holding his own, thank God, despite it being three-on-one.
***
“What the hell happened?” Charlotte said an hour later, after they’d changed into comfy clothes and were curled up on the couch in Aunt Pacey’s guesthouse, a bottle of red blend on the coffee table. They each had a glass in hand, generously filled with the dark liquid, and Becca was gulping hers like it was water.
“I’m not sure. Rahu just started acting like a jealous boyfriend out of nowhere. Although…” She peered at her friend and gnawed on her bottom lip. “Did it seem like the band was singling me out for some reason?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah, it did. But not, like, to hit on you or anything. It was…weird.”
“Creepy weird.” Becca looked down at her hands, one holding the bowl of a wineglass, the other resting in her lap, and both decidedlynotglowing. “Did you notice the, erm, bright light?”
“Yeah. Pretty lame special effects if you ask me. I had way higher hopes when I first heard this band was coming to town.”
A tapping sound caught Becca’s attention, and she lifted her gaze to the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard she shared with her aunt, who was standing on the brick pavers, frantically waving as she opened the door and let herself into the guesthouse.
“Oh my goodness, Rebecca, are you okay?” Aunt Pacey was Becca’s only living relative and the only person who did not call her by her nickname.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Becca said.
“Are you sure?” Aunt Pacey hurried across the room and sank onto the couch. She cupped Becca’s cheek and scanned her face like she was checking for injuries.
Becca pushed her hands away and took another gulp of wine. “I’m fine. How did you hear so quickly?” How had she heard at all? Becca hadn’t told her aunt where she was planning to go tonight, only that she was going out with Charlotte after work.
“Tell me what happened,” Aunt Pacey replied.
Becca glanced at Charlotte, seeking help. She didn’t want to paint too scary a picture. Seven years ago, Pacey had found her sister and husband dead in their living room, a result of a home invasion gone wrong. Ever since then, Becca’s aunt didn’t handle “bad situations” well, especially as they related to Becca. It was like she was afraid those exact same robbers would someday come after her niece. Even though they’d never been caught, the odds were probably a billion to one, but Becca had never been able to convince Aunt Pacey of that fact.
Aunt Pacey had taken Becca under her wing, and Becca had willingly accepted her aunt’s slightly controlling ways because it made her feel safe and secure at a point in her life when she’d been pretty screwed up, mentally.
