Page 55 of Never Say Die
“Sure, yeah. I believe,” he said.
Gary gave him a jittery once over and scooped cheese onto a cracker. “Makes sense. Looks like you’ve seen some shit.”
“You could say that.”
Beside him, Shay lifted an eyebrow and peeked around the door. He smiled, confused, and slid his hand around Aiden’s cup, stealing a sip before Aiden had the chance to saybrace. Shay’s mouth puckered. They stood near the back wall in the bedroom-turned-studio, giving Georgia ample room to take the lead on track development. Blue eyes narrowed playfully before he handed over the cup and licked his lips.
“It’s not even noon,” Shay whispered.
“And I feel like I got hit by a fucking bus,” Aiden said under his breath, flashing a sarcastic grin.
He’d woken to pain. From the bruise on his ribs to the gash on his neck, bandaged and hidden by a meticulously placed choker and his sister’s rosary. Everything had hurt, relentlessly. He’d dripped blessed water into the fang-prints on his thigh—swallowed some, too—and prayed to Santa Muerte for a little fucking relief. Hours later, he still ached.
Shay nudged him with his elbow. “Did you take those vitamins?”
“Yeah, I took them. Drank the orange juice, too.” Aiden drained the rest of his gross whiskey-coffee. “Thanks, by the way. For the. . . Everything, I guess. Whatever. You know what I mean.”
A smug smile crossed Shay’s perfect fucking face. He parted his lips, probably to say something smart and bitchy, but pulled his jaw shut with aclickthe second Georgia whipped around.
“What do you guys think? Too heavy on the bass or are we good?” she asked. Her face was bright and naked, absent her usual eyeliner and dark lipstick. Mascara framed her autumnal eyes, flicking expectantly between Shay and Aiden. “Personally, I think it’s great. Especially with Aiden’s bit during the bridge.”
Aiden hesitated, caught like a deer in headlights, and nodded. “If you think it’s great, I bet it’s great.”
Georgia tapped her foot. “You do realize this is our firstrealsingle, right? Glory was on our EP, but Never Say Die is the big one. Radio stations are, like, actively waiting for this. It’ll make or break us.”
“Sorry, yeah. I’m here, I promise. I’m just tired,” Aiden said, offering a weak smile.
“Can we do a play-back?” Shay pushed off the wall and stepped in front of the sound station.
Georgia rapped the glass and motioned for Dylan to walk through the side-door built into the second bedroom, used as an entrance and exit for the recording space.
Dylan tapped his silver thumb-pick against his fingers and lifted his chin, smiling as he bent like a scarecrow around the doorframe. “Sound okay?”
“Yeah, we’re doing a track run,” Aiden said.
Shay and Georgia hunched over a laptop, striking keys and mumbling at each other. The song started. Distortion mangledthe beginning. Easy fix, though. Shay’s vocals echoed during the first chorus and Aiden would have to re-record his portion of the bridge to sync with Dylan’s bass run, but otherwise the song sounded…awesome,actually. Georgia snarled a grin and bobbed her head, and Dylan nodded along as the last, long-winded notes careened through the speakers. It was gritty and dark and fast, the type of music they’d lived for when they were teenagers. Fuel for endless nights.
Aiden had always chased legacy, always hunted for immortality, and with a song like this? Knight’s Blood might just burn their names into history.
“It’s good,” Aiden said, hiccupping on a laugh. “Like, really good.”
“It is, huh?” Georgia giggled and scrubbed her palm over his freshly shaved head, tugging him into a hug. His stitches pinched. Bruises screamed. But he bit back a wince and looped his arm around her like he normally would, like he wanted to.
Suddenly, they were all sixteen again, cutting their teeth in a garage with instruments too big for them, chasing dreams too big for them, racing toward a future too big for them, sayingI can’t fucking waitand meaning this, here, now. Life felt so goddamnlived, yet they were just beginning. Aiden remembered hours ago, standing in the dark with a knife to his throat, looking at Shay, thinkingthis can’t be it, this can’t be how we end.
Prophecy be damned.
Shay touched his knuckles, just barely.
“There better be a Xenomorph in there,” Dylan said.
“I bet there isn’t,” Pru said, sighing.
Dylan pouted dramatically.
Georgia crushed the smoldering roach they’d been sipping from under her heel. “C’mon, don’t be a baby. It’s probably cool, Xenomorph or not.”
Shay glanced at Aiden, eyebrows arched. He mouthedI bet it’s notand Aiden pressed his lips together, smothering laughter. The strangeness hadn’t faded. Shay sliding into his role again, older and different and exactly the same, somehow. Knight’s Blood falling into long-lived habits again, better and stronger and, yeah, exactly the same. Six months ago, Aiden thought they’d split apart. Dylan would open a dispensary and Georgia would join another band. Shay would fill posters in Times Square and cut platinum albums with Chain Reaction. Aiden would keep forgetting how to live.
