Life in Shadows (23 page)

Every step
of the way, Shannon felt the lust of men and more than a few of the women in
the crowd. All her life, she’d been reluctant even to go out in a swimsuit. Now
she couldn’t get enough of this feeling. It was less about her body than about
her confidence. She knew that. But she also knew that she had the body to back
everything up now. Her presence was such that it actually prevented many men
from approaching her. Apparently she intimidated more than a few of them.

That was
fine with her. She had only one specific man in mind tonight.

She felt
almost giddy with excitement. She felt nourished and hungry at the same time.
Powerful and yet wanting more. She felt aroused—deeply, deliciously aroused, by
her own intentions as much as the desires of the people around her.

Good God
, she thought,
 
if
I feel like this now, how would I feel if I took it further?

* *
*

They really
needed new monitor speakers.

Michael
resolved to replace the band’s current gear upon his next paycheck. They’d
limped along this far, but now the band was starting to headline significant
local shows and attract real interest. Even being here tonight was a milestone.
They might not be at the top of the bill, but they were only one step down from
Throbbing Ennui. A good many people came tonight specifically for
Rockerdammerung. It was time to invest in more reliable equipment.

But until
he had the money to invest, it was time for duct tape.

The tall,
lanky singer and rhythm guitarist stomped out on a mostly-darkened stage to
secure the cables into their loose and crappy plugs. Everyone else was about
ready to go. He only needed a moment. The music from the venue’s speakers rose,
letting everyone know that Rockerdammerung would kick off their set soon.

“...these
guys aren’t even that original,” claimed an unnecessarily loud voice from the
front. The club was not so crowded that a safety space had to be cleared from
the front of the stage. Audience members could practically reach out and touch
it. Michael usually liked that aspect of this venue, but suddenly it brought
with it unpleasant consequences.

“All the
themes in their songs, the chords they play, the tones—they’re just another
Goth band. They’re so stuck in their genre that they’re not even anything new
within Goth. They’re, like, retro-Goth. Only they think they’re funny, too, so
they’re demeaning to their core audience.”

Michael
almost dropped the tape in his hands.
 
What
the hell? That doesn’t even make any sense!
 
Still bent over the monitor speaker,
Michael’s eyes rose to look out through his dangling black locks of hair at the
crowd at the foot of the stage.

“Well,
still,” voiced a woman who instinctively spoke as loudly as her companion,
“they’ve got a great name, right?”

“What,
Rockerdammerung? It’s ironic, but irony’s for hipsters, not Goths,” came the
disdainful reply. “And they’re not exactly German or even ‘rockers.’ The singer
and the drummer are just IT guys from Redmond. Not sure how ‘rocker’ you can be
when you’re contracting for Microsoft.”

There.
Michael spotted the critic right near the front of the crowd. Checkered shirt,
thick black-rimmed glasses that probably didn’t even hold prescription lenses,
and a grey wool cap that he wore even in the warmth of the crowded club. And
then Michael recognized him; he was part of another band, one not even playing
tonight. Explodo.
Check us out, we’re so ironic
.

His date
wore one of those horrid semi-sexy My Little Pony costumes. That just made
Michael hate him more.

Don’t take
the bait
, Michael told himself.
 
Don’t engage. Don’t engage. Just
ignore him. One random jackass. Focus on your show. Focus on your... holy shit.

Behind the
critic and his date, the crowd seemed to open up all on its own. Michael saw
her move with confident grace. The doctor in the lab coat and lace stockings
walked up and smiled, leaving even the guitarist from Explodo momentarily
stunned.

She made
eye contact with Michael. Her gaze held his as she arrived at the foot of the
stage. Her quiet smile threatened to hypnotize him.

Someone
slapped him on his back. “Hey, Michael, we set?” asked Jared.

“Uh, yeah!
Yeah,” Michael blinked. He turned his back on the doctor and the rest of the
audience, though it required an act of will.

The bassist
seemed to understand perfectly. “Jesus Christ,” Jared muttered, “I thought
doctors were supposed to
 
treat
 
heart attacks, not give ‘em. Think
she’s seen us before?”

“Ladies and
gentlemen,” a voice boomed over the speakers. Michael and Jared looked at one
another, shrugged, and turned back to the audience to wait for their cue. The
stage went dark, but they could see the crowd perfectly well under red overhead
lights. “Please welcome...”

The doctor
raised her arms, throwing out goat horns with her fingers and calling out along
with the announcer and much of the crowd, “Rockerdammerung!”

Michael
grinned widely as he hit the first chords. The doctor’s eyes were still on him
and threatened to never turn away. He faintly remembered being annoyed at
something a moment ago. Whatever it was, he quickly forgot it. He stepped to
the microphone to belt out the first lyrics of his song.

Thankfully,
he remembered them. The doctor clearly knew the words, too.

* * *

Shannon
watched Michael sway and sing on the stage above her. She found herself
appreciating the rocker image as if she’d only now discovered it for the first
time.

The singer
didn’t forget the rest of his audience, but she knew she had his attention. He
practically sang the band’s only serious ballad to her specifically. Michael
played the part of the front man well, engaging with many in the crowd and
ensuring his bandmates received plenty of attention from all. He didn’t hog the
spotlight or grandstand. His words were all for the sum total of his band, and
not for himself alone.

When the
final song ended, and when the rest of the band all stepped up to take their
bow, Michael bent low. Through the curtain of long black hair dangling over his
face, Shannon saw his blue eyes staring out at her.

She winked
at him. Mirrored his hungry grin. Looked pointedly toward the side hallway.
Then she stepped back from the stage. As the lights came up and the band set to
breaking down and clearing out for the next act, Shannon slipped away. The
crowd’s attention shifted toward the club’s two bars.

Arriving in
the small hallway leading toward the restrooms of the club—clean and orderly,
unlike many other places Rockerdammerung had played—Shannon considered what she
could do to bring things up to the next level if it turned out tonight wasn’t
enough for her. She wore very little as it was, and this club already invited a
bawdy tone by virtue of its advertising and musical selection. What would go
further than this? Stripping?

Shannon
smiled to herself. That could be fun. She’d never looked down on those who did
it, but she figured stripping was the sort of thing
 
other
 
women did. She always presumed it was
a sort of last resort for those who could pull it off. Sure, some women said
they enjoyed it, and perhaps that was true, but how many simply lied to keep up
appearances?

Now the
thought of it rolled through Shannon’s mind and she found it nothing short of
delicious. She could have a good time. Feed her needs. And probably clean up
financially while she was at it. And nobody even needed to know who she really
was...

“Do you
know how hard it is to come up with a good pick-up line when you can barely
remember lyrics to songs you wrote yourself?” asked a deep, slightly amused
voice.

Shannon
leaned back on the wall, reminded of her near-nakedness as she felt her lab
coat up against her not-entirely-covered ass. Her posture created some
difference in their height. Normally she stood about as tall as Michael.
Leaning back allowed the singer to loom over her. She wanted that. She wanted
him to feel confident.

He had more
than a little confidence all on his own, as any good front man for a band must.
Even so, Shannon detected a hint of nervousness when he looked at her. He hid
it well, but either he didn’t actually get much attention from women—which she
found unlikely—or he recognized her as someone special.

“I tried to
sing along with you to help,” Shannon told him. “I’m a fan. I’ve seen you guys
perform a few times.”

“Have you?
I think I’d remember you.”

“I’ve had a
bit of a makeover recently,” Shannon replied with a cool, graceful shrug. Her
eyes looked up into his again. “But yes. I’ve seen you several times. Saw you
in SoDo. Saw you at that charity thing in Tacoma. And on the side stage for
Bumbershoot.” Her smile grew sultry. “I saw you bring the crowd control guys
onstage with you to sing that Sisters of Mercy cover.”

She didn’t
think she could make him blush, but even in the dim lighting of the club she
could see his cheeks grow red. “That was a good show.”

“It was a
great show,” Shannon agreed. “You seem like a good guy. You don’t take yourself
too seriously, or your band. I like that. It’s part of why I wanted to meet
you.”

“Oh, so
you’ve been stalking me?”

“Only for a
couple of hours. Maybe I pay close attention to your blog. Pretty sure it
doesn’t count as stalking if the victim likes it,” she teased, “though I can
always take a walk if I make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,
keep stalking,” he chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“Call me
Sharon,” said Shannon.

“I can do
that.”

“You aren’t
here with anyone, are you?”

“Just the
band. Sorry to keep you waiting. I couldn’t leave them to pack up the gear all
on their own. Even if they told me to.”

“No, I
respect that.” Shannon grinned. He had some sense of priorities. She felt even
better about this now.

“I take it
you’re here alone, too?”

“I arrived
alone, anyway,” she said, reaching out to fondle his black shirt. He’d had a
big, beautiful leather coat when he started on stage, but had to shed that
before too long. Michael smelled of sweat and energy, yet he didn’t stink. He
smelled like a man. She liked that. “I’m hoping I’m not really here alone
anymore.”

“I’d be
happy to provide you with an escort,” Michael offered.

She smiled
broadly. He meant that—he delivered it as a joke, surely, but she understood
the subtext. “You’re not just
pretending
to be a gentleman because it’s
Halloween, are you?”

“No. Though
that would’ve been a good costume.”

“I ask
because I decided not to be a lady tonight,” Shannon explained. “At least, not
by conventional standards.” She tugged his shirt. He moved in closer. One of
his hands went up to the wall over her shoulder. “Turns out I need some help to
pull that off properly.”

Her next
line would have been, “So kiss me,” but Michael turned out to be just as good
at reading between the lines as Shannon. His mouth came to hers. Shannon didn’t
put up with any gentle lead-in to long, tender kissing this time. Her grip on
his shirt turned forceful and her other hand came around the back of his head
as she drew him in, kissing back fiercely and goading him into opening up to
her more.

Subtle
whimpers and lithe body language encouraged Michael to move in. Their lips and
tongues grew friendlier as their bodies came together. Shannon welcomed the
touch of his shamelessly curious hands on her exposed flesh. Soon, she had to
break off from the kiss just to breathe, but the air flowed in and out of her
mouth beside his ear in a lusty hiss.

“I’m not
usually this forward,” he told her. The deep tone of his voice assured her that
he had no problem with cold feet. The kiss he planted on her neck punctuated
that tone nicely.

“Neither am
I,” Shannon said directly into his ear, “but I won’t hold it against you. Seems
like a good night to go out of character.”

His mouth
came off of her neck. The pair looked at one another with intense, excited
eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

Shannon
grinned again. She could feel how much he wanted her. Most people would buckle
under that sort of desire and take anything they could get. Yet Michael could
walk away if he had to right now.

“I came
here planning to seduce you tonight,” Shannon answered. “And I’m not looking
for anything exclusive.”

“One night
only, huh?” he asked.

“I didn’t
say that,” she corrected, “but that’s up to you. A man has to protect himself.
I understand that. I like you a lot. You’re living up to my hopes. I just want
you to know there’s no white picket fence at the end of this.”