Hidden Heart (8 page)

Reading her dejection, I almost felt sorry for her. But she had no idea how lucky she was. “I’m sorry,” I said because it was the natural thing to say in a moment like that, but then I added in a lower tone, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be—you should withdraw your name.” 

She drew back and studied my face, wide-eyed. Then her forehead creased and she nodded as if convinced. “Thanks,” she said, and I watched as she moved away, pushing toward the back of the crowd, giving up her coveted spot near the stage.

Well, that was easy.
I shrugged. If only it were that simple—I could just
tell
the others to pack up and go home, resume their lives and abandon the whole fan pod idea. All I could figure was that girl hadn’t been glamoured yet, or not very thoroughly.

“Welcome everyone—are you ready to rock?”

The amplified voice and answering screams caused me to turn back to the stage where Barbie and Ken’s real-life counterparts stood side-by-side, smiling at the crowd. The woman spoke next.

“I’m Darcy and this is Brad—we’re the hosts of L.A. Morning, and it’s our pleasure to welcome to the L.A. Morning stage one of the hottest new bands we’ve seen in a long time. They have an album dropping next month, and It. Is. Incredible.”

“They really are fantastic, Darcy. I was lucky enough to see them play Whisky-a-Go-Go a few months ago, and they tore the house down.” Addressing the crowd again, Brad said, “And now, without further delay…we bring you… The Hidden!”

Screams erupted around me. A drumbeat began, joined by a baseline, and the girls on each side of me began jumping like kids on Christmas morning. In fact, I doubted Santa had ever gotten such a reaction. Nox was not onstage, but his three bandmates were.

I didn’t remember noticing them the night I’d seen The Hidden play in a small Oxford nightclub, but seeing them now in the bright California daylight, there was no question they were Elven.

No wonder the girls were so star-struck. The Hidden was like a boy band on steroids—each guy was perfect in his own way but more grown-up and dangerous-looking than the typical boy band member.

Naturally, they were all tall and built. The guy on keyboards was blond, a lighter shade than Lad’s. He looked like he spent a lot of time on a surfboard when he wasn’t performing onstage.

The drummer had longer, sandy brown hair and was shirtless, revealing a delicious tan. The base player had his dark hair cropped very short, but I knew if it had been longer, it would bear the hallmark waves of male Elven hair.

People in the crowd were screaming their names—Rolf, Anders, and Matteus from what I could understand. My eyes skipped from one to the other—it was hard to decide which one was better looking. Any of them would have easily been the cutest guy in school if he were dropped into the average American high school or college campus.

And then Nox came out on stage. And the others seemed to disappear.

The noise around me increased to a frenetic pitch that was almost deafening. The anxiety in my middle ramped up to full-on terror—this was about to happen. I had nowhere to go and no idea what my reaction to his music would be or whether I could control it. I was possibly on the verge of deep personal embarrassment. 

Nox strode toward center stage with his guitar strapped around his body. He wore what must have been his usual on-stage uniform—similar to what he’d worn that night in the nightclub—a tight dark t-shirt and perfectly fitted jeans with black boots. It was weird seeing him like this. I was used to viewing him up close, through a filter of personal knowledge and distrust. But this was different.

Separated as we were by the crowd and the stage, it was almost as if I didn’t know Nox, like he was someone else. Like
I
was someone else and viewing him through the eyes of the fans surrounding me. And through these new eyes… he looked amazing.

He strutted across the stage, playing the song’s opening chords, his movements fluid and athletic. His face was the picture of concentration and passion as he poured himself into the music. I wanted to look away, struggled to replace the beautiful male image before my eyes with the scenes of angry confrontations that had occurred between us, but those seemed fuzzy and distant now, like dreams that slip away moments after you wake.

Nox reached the microphone stand and began to sing.

And I was lost.

As soon as the first verse came through the amps, I was under a spell. My body felt heavy and warm, anchored in place as if I might grow into the pavement beneath my feet and be content to live in his spot forever, listening to him, watching him play to the crowd.

As he sang, Nox’s teeth flashed whitely, a cross between a smile and a snarl as he delivered the vocals. Now I didn’t care about the reactions of the girls around me—were they still even there? I couldn’t see anyone else, hear anyone else. There was only Nox and his voice washing over me in luxurious Caribbean-warm waves of sound and feeling.

He stepped back from the mic for a guitar ride and the languor lifted slightly, though the rhythmic movements of his body in time with the music captured my gaze and refused to let go.

I’d fantasized about Lad before, about what might come after the passionate kisses we’d shared. But with both of us being virgins, and never having seen a movie bearing a rating past R, I didn’t have much to work with in the visuals department. Now my mind was flooded with images that made me blush, though anyone watching would assume the California heat was getting to me.

My tongue felt thick, my belly tight, my body growing warmer by the minute. I squirmed, uncomfortable in my light, non-restrictive clothing. I’d only seen Nox shirtless one time—that horrible day in Altum when I’d realized his true identity and that he’d been lying to me all along.

Now the memory came back to me in vivid detail. Worse, I saw myself in the picture, touching his bare chest, running my hands over his shoulders and down his well-muscled arms. The hot tightness in my belly increased and expanded, twisting in on itself, making me want to move, to
do something
.

Gigi, who’d apparently been standing next to me (I’d forgotten) bumped me playfully. “There you go, girl. You can
dance.
”

“What?”

I looked down at my own body and realized I
was
moving to the beat of the music. Just like in the nightclub that night, I had lost control of my own body—like it wasn’t
mine
anymore. Like it was
his.

Nox resumed singing, and the full mesmerized state dropped over me again.
I hate this.
And at the same time… I loved it. The feeling of being lost in sensation, controlled by something,
someone
so much stronger than myself was strangely pleasurable. Freeing, in a way. Like I could simply let go of all my thoughts and stop worrying and drift in this enveloping bath of emotion forever.  

The song ended. I felt like I might fall down, only the other fans were packed in so tightly around me I could probably have passed out and still remained on my feet. I had a quick impulse to push through the crowd, say I needed to get to the bathroom or something, and then the next song began.

This one had a slower beat, more of a ballad sound. I stared down at my feet, determined to maintain control over myself, not to look at him, not to listen—maybe I could somehow mentally block out his vocals.

But then I heard his voice—not just singing the lyrics. He
was
singing, but he was also speaking in my mind.

Ryann, are you okay?

It was him—as clear as Gigi’s voice had been a few minutes ago. But when my head whipped up to look at him, Nox was singing to the crowd. His eyes narrowed in a crinkly smiling expression as he sang. Then he cut a quick side glance at me.
Dang it.
He knew I’d heard him.

And now, once again, I was really hearing him as he sang. If I’d been capable of feeling anything other than ultimate peace, I might have panicked when I recognized the song—it was the same one he’d sung the night in Oxford when I’d tried—unsuccessfully—to leave. Just like on that night, a confusing swirl of emotions twisted through me.

Tears gathered behind my eyes. Nox’s voice was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, his face the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. How had I ever looked at Lad and preferred him over this masterpiece of masculine beauty? I could never leave him, never leave California, unless it was to follow him… anywhere…

A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn to the side. I blinked. Gigi’s bemused expression met my eyes.

She laughed. “I’ve been saying your name for, like, a minute. We’re supposed to go back to the bus. Come on.”

I blinked again and shook my head. The concert was over? I glanced up at the empty stage, stared around me at the parking lot and the girls walking away in groups and pairs, chattering with each other about the show they’d just seen.

How long had I been…
under
? Away? Asleep? I didn’t know what word to use to describe the spell that had come over me. Had there been several more songs or only those two? And where had my mind been all that time? Had I danced and screamed like an idiot? Part of me wanted to play back the recording of this show and look at the crowd shots, and part of me didn’t.

This
must be what full-on glamour was like. This was why a stranger could drive away with Emmy, and her mother wouldn’t protest. Why people would agree to do anything they were asked.

So far no one had been able to glamour me with their words or with a look—perhaps I was resistant to that. But I was an absolute textbook case of susceptibility to musical glamour—at least to Nox’s. It was terrifying to know he had so much power over me, and to admit that for now, I’d have to put up with it.

Still mortified, I followed Gigi toward the bus. As we reached the steps, someone called out, “You!”

Gigi and I both turned toward Nox’s voice. He was standing beside the open door of a yellow Mercedes sports car. He pointed at me. “You, the brunette—what’s your name again?”

“Uh, it’s Ryann.”

“Ryann. Come here—you’re riding with me.”

Gigi’s astonished gaze flew to me, and she gave me a huge smile followed by a little shove. “Go… go!”

After a moment’s hesitation, I obeyed. What choice did I have? If I told him to go to hell or even said, “No thank you,” I’d be outed as a fan pod fraud.

I walked toward him, glancing back once over my shoulder at the bus. As expected, Amalia stood at the front, watching through the huge windshield.

When I met Nox at his car, I kept my voice low, though I couldn’t prevent the irritation from leaking into my tone. “
What
do you want?”

“I want you to take a ride with me. Keep smiling,” he instructed through his own grin. “Big Sister is watching.”

Plastering on a fake smile, I tried to appear delighted as Nox walked around and opened the passenger door for me. I held onto my rant until we’d pulled out of the lot and onto the busy highway.

“What are you doing? You’re not supposed to show me any special attention.”

“That’s not true. Alfred says the fan pod members are ‘at my disposal’ and I may ‘use them as I wish.’ I’m expected to spend time with individual girls. If I don’t, it’ll raise suspicion. So you’re helping me keep my cover. I told my
handlers
not to expect me back for a while.” He drew out the last word suggestively and raised an eyebrow at me, his mouth sliding into a sexy sideways grin.

“As long as ‘keeping your cover’ is all you expect me to
help
you with. Eyes back on the road,” I growled, pointing through the windshield.

He laughed. “Of course. So, where do you want to go?”

As nervous as I was about being near him after the show experience, I really wasn’t in a hurry to get back to fanpod headquarters and dissect The Hidden’s performance with the other girls. It was exhausting to be around such hysterical enthusiasm all the time. I missed the woods, too. I wanted to go somewhere natural.

“The hills?” I suggested. “All this concrete is getting to me.”

“The Hollywood hills it is. Got your hiking shoes on?”

Nox drove us up twisting streets with amazing panoramic views and parked at the Griffith Observatory.

“We can hike to the Hollywood Sign from here, if you want to,” he suggested.

“Yeah. That sounds perfect, actually.” 

He popped the trunk and pulled out two water bottles, then led the way toward a path beyond the parking lot. The walk was only marginally challenging, steep, but with a clearly defined path and not much in the way of undergrowth—so different from hiking in the thick woods on Grandma’s land. Suddenly I was suffused with the desire to be back in those woods, where I’d first met Lad, where we’d spent so many happy times together.

“So… you haven’t told me what you thought of the show this morning.”

I rolled my eyes over to Nox, wiping a fine sheen of sweat off my forehead. “I think you
know
the answer to that.”

A sneaky grin prefaced his laugh. “Glamour-drunk is a good look for you, Ry.”

I pointed at him, my finger jabbing the air in time with my emphatic words. “I will
not
be attending any more concerts, by the way.”

“Ryann—”

“I mean it. That’s not why I came out here, and you know it. And it’s not fair for you to do that to me against my will. I
really
don’t appreciate it.”

Nox threw his hands out to the side, keeping pace with my new, increased walking speed. “It’s not like I can help it. I didn’t want any of this—the fan pods, the celebrity. I’m doing this whole thing for
you
, if you’ll remember.”

I glanced over at him, finding my footing easily on a flat stretch. “So, you don’t want to be famous? Why sing then—why have a band and record music?”

He looked away, studying the view in the valley below through squinting eyes as he considered it. “Music doesn’t feel like a choice, either. It called to me—it felt like something I
had
to do, you know? It gives me peace. It makes me happy. And when I sing… the… effects on humans… it’s not something I’m trying to do. I was born with it, I guess. My parents were musical artists—our house was always filled with music. I think that’s why I like California so much, why I started coming out here as soon as I was old enough to travel alone. This is where all my memories of them are. This is where we were happy as a family. I… miss that.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the trail ahead.

I stopped and watched his back as he went on, studied his strong calves as the incline of the path increased. I’d never spent any time considering the losses Nox had experienced.

He was an orphan. I wasn’t sure how it all had come about, but I knew he’d grown up in L.A. until the age of twelve and then was forced to live in a secret underground society in the backwoods of Mississippi through no choice of his own. And from what he’d described, he’d felt like a burden or at least an interloper in Lad’s home. It was a lot of upheaval for one short life, and it seemed pretty lonely.

I caught up to him. “Tell me about your parents. Can you remember them well?”

He glanced over at me warily, almost as if trying to determine whether I was sincere. Or whether I was worthy of the precious nuggets of memory I’d asked him to share. Looking back at the dusty path ahead of us, he said, “I do. I remember so much—I try to hold on to it—the past with them, being someone’s son—their
real
son.”

Lad had once told me his adoptive brother had always wanted what he had—that they were competitive in every arena. I had looked down on Nox when hearing those stories, but now I saw them in a different light. Nox had been just a child—he’d wanted to be loved—like any of us do.

“I’ll bet your mom was pretty,” I prompted. It was a safe guess—she was Elven—she had to have been pretty.

He smiled, a distant memory filling his beautiful hazel eyes. “She was. She had this long, black hair. And she had the sweetest voice. She was… Sylvie Jerrik.” He glanced at me, checking to see if I recognized the name.

“Your mom was
the
Sylvie Jerrik?”

He nodded, a look of unmistakable pride on his face.

“Wow. So then your dad was…”

“Gavin Jerrik. Yeah. I told you they were musicians.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize…”

Pretty much everyone knew of the Jerriks. Gavin was one of the most prolific songwriters of the modern generation, having penned tunes for countless famous artists over the past few decades and worked as a producer with a long list of top performers. He was also known for playing several instruments in different bands through the years. And for his powerful sex appeal.

His wife was famous for her gorgeous alto voice—Mom used to say Sylvie Jerrik could sing a page out of the phone book and sell a million copies on iTunes. And that Gavin Jerrik had probably made a million conquests.

“So your last name…”

He nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah. I made up Knight.”

“Stage name?”

“Something like that.”

“Your dad died in a plane crash, right?”

He shrugged. “Private Lear jet. He and several other musician friends—they were on their way to perform at a festival.”

“And your mom?”

“She supposedly died in the crash as well.”

“But it’s not true?”

He shook his head. “No, the media said so, but she and I weren’t with my father on the plane. After his death, we traveled immediately to Mississippi. We left everything, in the middle of the night, the two of us. Mom took me to Altum and left me there with her sister, my aunt Mya, and then she took off again.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize your mom was a Light Elf.”

He nodded. “Her marriage to my father was a political one—like the one planned for Lad and Vancia—to broker a peace deal. But she and my father fell in love. They were happy together, and she adapted well to life among humans.”

“Where is she now?”

His shoulders lifted and fell, his gaze trained on the trail ahead. “She… never came back. Which means she has to be dead, too.”

“Oh my God, Nox. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” I reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

He stopped walking and turned to face me. “Yeah. I guess that’s the other reason I wanted to come back to California—to get some answers, try to find out what really happened.”

“Have you?”

“Not yet. I haven’t told anyone who my parents were—there’s another reason for the fake name.” He paused, a frown working its way across his forehead as if he was trying to decide how much more to say.

“What?”

“Ivar always told me I shouldn’t reveal my family name. He said it might be dangerous. I chose Knight for myself when I started mixing with humans.”

“I see.”

“My agent Alfred asked me about my family. I almost told him, but then—I don’t know—I got a strange feeling about it. I gave him a couple of made-up names. I think I have to… tread carefully or something until I know who I can trust. Like I said before—it’s kind of a downer. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“We can if you want to,” I assured him. “It’s good for you to talk about them. As you said, you want to keep their memories alive. I just… I want to say you can talk to me about them anytime… if you want to.”

Nox’s body and expression froze, his eyes misting as they stared into mine. “Okay,” he said, his voice sounding choked.

“We’re here,” I realized, tilting my head back to see the Hollywood sign looming above.

He looked up at the giant letters as well. They weren’t quite as fancy as I’d imagined them to be—basically sheets of steel supported by steel rods sunk into concrete. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting. Still, the idea of it was fun. No doubt Shay and my other friends back home would think it was cool I’d seen the sign up close.

When we’d hiked back to the car, Nox opened my door for me partway but stopped mid-motion.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For keeping the truth from you. I did feel bad about it, but… well, I’m really glad you know now. I mean, I guess I am a Dark Elf by birth, but I don’t really feel like these are my people. Not yet anyway. And like I told you, I’ve never felt truly a part of the Light Elves either. I’ve been kind of a loner. It’s nice to have a friend.” 

Swallowing back a lump in my throat, I said, “I understand. Thanks for apologizing.” I broke eye contact and looked at the ground until the car door was completely open, then got in and let out the breath I’d been holding.

So there it was. We were friends now. In spite of what he’d done in the past, he was helping me. I understood him a little better. And all we had out here was each other.

When Nox was behind the wheel, I turned to him. “You realize we’re going to have to keep our friendship under wraps while we’re here. We can’t keep running off together. You’re going to have to spread your
attention
around.”

He nodded and started the engine with a smirk and a lifted brow. “How do you know I haven’t been?” Then the smug look dissolved into a true smile. “Just kidding. I guess you’re right, though.”

I laughed. “Most guys would be more excited. You’ve got a houseful of adoring women at your beck and call. They’re all really cute.”

“And they’re all really squealy. I didn’t even know voices could
go
that high.” He laughed, but his expression turned serious as he drove the car down the winding road toward the valley. “It’s weird to be worshipped. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah—I guess you’re not
quite
a Dark Elf yet, then. You’d better get used to it. It’s only going to get worse because it doesn’t look like you’re going to get
less
famous.” 

*     *     *

Nox joined the pod in the enormous dining room for dinner that night, sitting at a table at the front of the room with Amalia. I tried not to glance in their direction too often, but most of the girls around me stared throughout pretty much the entire meal.

“Do you think they’re a thing?” Kim asked in a low voice, studying Nox and Amalia speaking together.

“Celeb Tonight said he’s single,” Bonnie argued. “Besides, if they were a thing, she’d probably be pissed he went hiking with Ryann today.”

“Well, Amalia wasn’t exactly
happy
when she saw them leave together,” Gigi said.

I whipped my glance to her. “Really? Did she say something?” I knew Amalia wasn’t jealous, but I
was
worried about her watching anything I did too closely.