Page 3 of Cloak of the Vampire
He ordered a beer and sipped it. Such a normal thing to do, but something about it seemed so calculated that my instincts were now roaring at me to flee. But I stared at him too long, and he must’ve sensed it because his eyes were suddenly on me.
I schooled my face and gave him a neutral smile before swiveling my head back to Skye. “Let’s go up to the front,” I told her, blood rushing to my ears, making it hard to breathe. “We can’t see anything from here.”
Thankfully, Skye was so lost in texting she simply hummed a positive “Sure” and let me lead us away from the man, whose eyes I felt on my back for a few long minutes.
Fourcorns was a great band for one reason only: Cassidy.
My friend had the voice of an actual angel. She could sing any genre she wanted. Hell, she even knew how to rap, and she did it well too.She was crazy talented, so why she was slumming it with this band, I would never understand.
Not that I would ever tell her that. She could never appreciate compliments from someone she didn’t respect.
I knew nothing about music, but even I could hear when the drummer lost his rhythm sometime during their first song and when the electric guitar wasn’t entirely in tune. Cassidy didn’t seem to care; she was lost in performing the songs she’d worked so hard to write.
Thanks to Cassidy’s otherworldly voice and amazing stage presence, the crowd adored them. It also helped that Cassidy was as beautiful as Skye, if not more so. She wore a tiny black dress plastered to her curvy figure; its contrast with her ivory skin seemed even brighter under the stage lights. Her charcoal hair flowed down to her waist in manufactured curls, and her bright-green eyes were accentuated by smoky makeup. She looked absolutely gorgeous, and she knew it.
By the time the last song came on, I was so ready for it to be over with. I loved watching and listening to Cassidy sing, and I could do it for days on end, but the Hole was wearing me down, and I wanted to be back at my apartment, in my bed, listening to an educational podcast.
Finally, Cassidy said into the mic, “Thank you, Hole! You guys were awesome” before she and her band departed the stage. I was beyond relieved.
Skye, who’d been texting throughout the concert, put her phone back in her purse and said, “Let’s go.”
We headed backstage and found Cassidy alone in the dressing room. Skye was the first one to hug her. “You were unbelievable!” she squealed, as if she had been listening as intently as I had been.
Cassidy hugged her back, laughing. “Thank you,” she said, as if she didn’t already know how we all felt about her.
I gave her a shorter hug and said, “I can listen to you sing all day long.”
She smirked. “Of course you can. I’m amazing.”
And ever modest too.
“Where are the guys?” Skye asked, eyes darting around in anticipation. She might have a boyfriend she was obsessed with, but she still liked ogling eye candy.
“They went to buy some drinks.” Cassidy sighed. “I don’t want to drink, though. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
Skye flipped her blonde hair back. “You’re not going home without celebrating another successful gig, Cass!”
“Come on, Skye,” Cassidy said, her smirk falling. “I’m not in the mood.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong?” Just a second ago, she was fine. Happy, even.
Cassidy sighed again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Skye tried to argue, but Cassidy seemed to have her mind all made up. We left the club, and once we hit the street and clear air blasted my lungs, I felt infinitely better.
As we waited for Skye’s cab to arrive, Cassidy said, “I think Shawn has a crush on me.”
Cassidy thought every member of her band had a crush on her, or used to. Now, it was Shawn, the guitarist and arguably the second most talented of Fourcorns. Last time, it had been Emery, the drummer, who, I was positive, wasn’t interested in girls.
“Go for it,” Skye said. “It’s been a while since you got some.”
“But I’m seeing Ollie,” she retorted, “and Bryan. Dating two of them at once is so energy consuming as it is. I don’t need a third.”
“It’s fun, though.” Skye grinned. “If Tyler wasn’t so perfect, I would’ve done the same. Ididthe same.”
Cassidy leaned against a light pole and took out a cigarette, lighting it up. I never understood singers who smoked, and I understood Cassidy less because she actually wanted to have a career in singing, and smoking wouldn’t help her achieve that.
“I’m just tired, you know?” She inhaled the smoke deeply. “I know I’m hot, and I know I’m talented, but comeon. Stop falling for me already.”
