Blood and Guitars (10 page)

“What’s up?” I asked him.

“For the fan club,” he said. I waved at the
camera, and O’Shea stuck out his tongue lovingly.

“Okay, come closer.” I looked into the camera
as Jonas slowly came toward me. “Here’s a little sneak preview of
what’s to come.” I started playing the chorus of “Midnight Poison”
and O’Shea joined right in while I sang the words to the
camera.

“I spend my days waiting for the night. The
hours pass with fading light…. She’s a poison; I’m addicted … to
the sweet and secret darkness.”

Then I muted my guitar and put my fingers to
my lips. “Shh… It’ll be our little secret.”

“Yeah, all over YouTube,” O’Shea said.

I chuckled. “Well everyone, its official, as
you can see. Catalyst is back in the studio.”

“And it’s a nice one,” O’Shea added, with a
sweeping arm gesture that included the entire live room.

“So true. We know you’re anxious for some new
material and we’re doing our best to give it to you. We’re working
hard, or at least pretending to, and we’ll be sure to keep you guys
posted with what’s happening here. Jonas will probably have this
camera attached to his hand whenever his bass guitar isn’t, like he
did with the last record. Anyway, now that you’ve had your sneak
preview it’s time to get out of here.”

“Yeah, there’s top-secret song-writing
happening in here people,” O’Shea added in his best James Bond
voice, which wasn’t that great. I grinned and half-heartedly waved
Jonas away until he wandered back out of the room, camera still
rolling.

All in all it was a long but productive day
at the studio. As far as recording goes, things had actually moved
pretty quickly, even though we were there for eleven hours and the
song still wasn’t completely finished yet. Karatz and Chase had
managed to get all the drum parts laid down by the time we took a
late lunch. Then we’d added lead, rhythm and bass guitars for the
rest of the afternoon. The only parts left to record were my vocals
and O’Shea’s backup vocals. We had plans to do that early tomorrow
morning and then Jonas and Chase would join us so we could watch
Karatz do his magic with some of the editing and piece it all
together for us.

Our band manager Wes stopped by for about an
hour to check on us and see how things were going. Wes is
high-strung, which is probably a good quality to have in a manager,
or at least, it seemed to be working so far. He’d been with us
since before we signed our record deal with Celebrity Dent, and
he’s good to let us do our thing, which is about all anyone can ask
for. He seemed impressed with our progress so far and he really
liked what he heard of the song, which admittedly wasn’t all that
much.

At the end of the day I offered to give
O’Shea a ride home, sarcastically suggesting that maybe I should
give him a lift the next morning as well, since there wasn’t nearly
enough parking at Karatz’s place. We were heading down Cleveland
toward O’Shea’s house when a building on the street caught my eye.
I slowed down and squinted to get a better look.

“Trey, what are you-”

“Hold on a second,” I interrupted, pulling
over into a parking spot. It was an art studio or gallery of some
kind that I’d never paid much notice to before. Tonight it caught
my eye because there was something familiar in the style of the
painting that was displayed in the large window out front. I opened
my door and climbed out. O’Shea grudgingly did the same, following
behind like a good friend.

“What’s going on?” he asked as I walked back
toward the building.

“This art studio back here,” I said. “We have
to go inside real quick.”

“Uh … okay. Do you mind my asking why?”

But I wasn’t really listening to him. I made
my way toward the front door, pausing only to look at the painting
in the window again. Sure enough, I knew the name I would find at
the bottom right corner before I read it.

O’Shea was still babbling on. “Wait a minute.
That girl you were telling me about is an artist, right? Is that
what this is about?”

I pushed open the door, hearing the bell
ringing to signal that a customer had come inside. I glanced around
but the only person I saw was a girl in her early twenties whose
hair had been dyed bright red. She smiled and greeted me.

“Can I help you?” she asked, seeing that I
was obviously looking for someone.

“Uh, I was just kind of hoping the artist
might be here,” I said, trying not to sound too desperate.

“I’m sorry, but she’s not in right now.”

O’Shea walked in and paused at my side,
looking around with mild interest.

“Actually,” the red head continued. “She’s
not here during the day often. She’s a bit of a night owl. She
usually shows up around closing or after. I look after the place
during the day for her.” She looked up and saw O’Shea and her face
brightened immediately. “But, I’m sure I can help you with anything
that you might need. My name is Kacie, by the way.”

O’Shea, never one to miss out on meeting a
pretty girl, stepped right up and kissed her hand. She blushed a
little and bit her lip, gazing at him. So much for getting help. I
took a moment to walk around, gazing at the paintings that were on
display. One thing was immediately apparent to me. All of the
paintings on display involved a night setting. They were either of
sunsets, or had the moon hung high in the sky. Surprisingly, they
were still really colorful, just in a different way than most
paintings are. There was detail in everything, even the
shadows.

I paused in front of one that showed a lone
fountain forgotten by time. The water poured from a crack in an old
stone wall and hints of purple light surrounded it. The painting
was done inside an oval centered on the canvas. The solid black
that framed it bled to the edges of the canvas.

Another painting was an abstract design done
in black and shining metallic silver, with shades of grey in
between. The paint had been used heavier in some places, creating a
rough textured look. A single long-stemmed rose was positioned in
the middle as if suspended in midair. The stem was black, and the
thorns were menacing, but the pedals, outlined in silver, were
emerald green.

The paintings really were amazing, and only
made me want to see Aurora more. After all the nights I’d dreamed
of my mystery woman and not known her face, now it was easy to
believe that Aurora could have been my muse all along.

But she still seemed so out of reach.

Then I realized that if nothing else, I could
take a piece of her home with me. O’Shea and Kacie flirted behind
me and I effectively ignored them as I studied the images in
Aurora’s paintings. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pick one, they
were all so great. Then I saw it, one of dusk on Pier 60. The
picture was spread across five separate pieces of canvas that ran
horizontal but didn’t line up straight across. Instead, they were
offset so that the painting was centered closer to the tops of some
of them, and toward the bottom on others. A lot of the paintings in
the gallery were done this way, but it was a cool effect I’d never
really seen done before, not that I’m a connoisseur of art by any
means. There was a band playing without an audience as the ghostly
pale moon rose up over the sea. As I pored over the details in the
Pier 60 painting, I was intrigued by the ethereal quality she’d
given to a place I knew so well. I’d spent a lot of time at the
pier as a kid, and I could almost hear the music playing and the
waves crashing up against the nearby shore. The irony was in the
fact that the pier is usually full of artists and vendors and a
crowd that includes locals and tourists. It struck a nerve in me to
see it so empty and lonely. The featureless faces of the musicians
made me feel like I could almost see myself in the painting. How
cool would it be to play on the Pier in the dark like that? It
would make a killer music video. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t
thought of it before. I definitely wasn’t leaving without this
painting.

“I’ll take this one,” I said resolutely. I
turned around to see O’Shea pause mid-sentence and gawk at me.

“You’re buying a painting?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Why not? It’s Pier 60. It’s
sick.”

O’Shea shrugged. “No reason, I guess.”

Kacie smiled at me and said, “Would you like
that delivered?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

“No problem. I’ll get you the form to fill
out for payment and delivery.” She walked behind the desk that was
positioned a few yards away against the left wall and opened a
drawer.

“What are you doing?” O’Shea muttered under
his breath, throwing a charming smile in Kacie’s direction when she
looked up as she rummaged through some paper work.

“I’m decorating my house.” I grinned at
him.

“Whatever.” He smiled back. “You’re losing
your mind.”

“Me? You’re the one flirting with the
manager.”

He opened his mouth to retort but Kacie was
fast approaching and so he thought better of it.

“Here you go.” She handed me a clipboard with
a form to fill out. I took the attached pen and began writing in my
information. I handed the completed paperwork back to her a moment
later along with my debit card. She ran my card and handed me a
receipt.

“Need anything else?” I asked.

“That should be it. I’ll call you tomorrow to
schedule a delivery time.”

“Great. Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “Well,
I guess we should be on our way then.” Kacie almost pouted at my
announcement, but recovered quickly. “Would you mind telling Aurora
that I stopped by?”

“Sure thing,” Kacie said. “But you guys feel
free to come by anytime. You might just get lucky and catch her
here.” Then, for O’Shea’s benefit, she added, “I’m always
here.”

“Good to know,” O’Shea said with a smile.

“Thanks again.” I pushed O’Shea toward the
door.

As I drove to The Waking Moon, I savored the
lingering effects of fresh blood. I’d fed from a woman behind a
bookstore just moments before, and then gently sent her on her way
back down the alley. Feeding really was easier when I could use the
moon-given ability to read minds. I had simply reminded the woman
that she was late for dinner with a friend and pointed her in the
right direction. She’d hurried off, thanking me for my help. I
pulled up to The Waking Moon and parked in back, taking just a
second to sit quietly and center myself, while at the same time
enjoying the rush that ingesting fresh blood had given me.

“How’s everything?” I asked as I let myself
in the backdoor. Kacie had heard me pull up and was waiting for me
near the desk.

“No complaints.” She gave me a wry smile. “A
couple of hot guys came in yesterday.”

I picked up the sales receipts on the desk
and began to shuffle through them absentmindedly. “Yeah?” I asked,
pretending to be interested.

“One of them was looking for you. His name
was Trey. Does that ring a bell?”

I looked up at her in surprise. I’d spent way
too much time in the last week pondering why this one particular
human had been able to charm me. “Trey?”

“He was tall with chocolate brown hair and
gorgeous blue eyes. His friend was really cute, too. His name was
O’Shea and he had black hair and …”

But I wasn’t really listening as I pulled the
image of Trey and his friend from her mind. It was a strange
sensation, seeing Trey stand in the middle of The Waking Moon, and
I shook my head to clear my mind. I still wasn’t sure why I had
gone with him that night at Carlie’s, and more importantly, why I
hadn’t even fed from him in the process. I’d just let him walk away
and then I’d had to go back out and find someone else to feed from
to satiate my need for blood. “Did he say what he wanted?” I asked,
trying not to sound too curious.

“He was looking for you.” Kacie worked on her
fingernails with a file. “He didn’t really say why. In fact, he
didn’t say much of anything. He just wandered around looking at all
of the paintings while I talked to his friend. Then he bought ‘Dusk
On The Pier’.”

“He what?” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my
voice. Apparently I should have probed deeper into her
thoughts.

“The sales receipt should be in there
somewhere. I had it delivered today.”

I flipped through the sales receipts in my
hand more earnestly until I saw Trey’s name at the top of them.
Kacie was right. Trey had shelled out three hundred dollars to buy
my five canvas spread of Pier 60. Despite my misgivings about the
night I had spent hanging out with a human, it secretly pleased me
to know that Trey had paid a visit to The Waking Moon. I was
surprised that he’d actually purchased a painting, but it brought a
smile to my face, even against my better judgment.

“So, who is he?” Kacie asked.

I looked up and shrugged nonchalantly. “Just
a guy I met at a lounge a few nights back. I can’t believe he even
came in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you met a guy?” I
shrugged like it was no big deal, but I didn’t need to read Kacie’s
mind to know that she wasn’t buying it, although technically what I
had said was exactly true. “Well, he’s super cute. Don’t worry. I
told him he’d have better luck catching you if he tried back around
closing some time. I just hope he brings his friend along.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

I finished glancing through the sales
receipts and Kacie took off for the night. Then I walked upstairs
into the loft above the gallery. I dropped my purse and keys on the
table distractedly and was tempted to collapse on the nearest chair
and wrack my brain about Trey, but the fact that I wanted to do
that at all was a good indication that I needed to do something
else entirely. There wasn’t a lack of work to be done, so instead,
I busied myself by finding a piece to hang where Pier 60 had been
displayed. It didn’t take me long to hang another piece in its
place.