Night Moves (The Night Songs Collection) (5 page)

“Where do you think you’re going, little lady?” A squat man with thinning gray hair intercepted me as I stepped off the bus. The bus driver. He smelled like cigarette smoke and sweat, melting the icy air surrounding him.

I tried not to gag in his face. That would be rude. “To get something to eat.”

“Not by yourself, you aren’t. Unless you want to get yourself killed. Do you have any idea where you are right now?”

“Detroit?” One of the Great Lakes must be nearby as well, a biting breeze from its shores ripping through my coat. Looking around, I saw his point. We were parked in a sad looking industrial area, some of which could very well have been abandoned by any sort of progress for the last couple of decades.

“Well it sure ain’t Beverly Hills. I was going to look for some food myself. But I’ll go with you.”

My lunch date, since it was shockingly only two in the afternoon, was named Ralph. He’d been driving buses for Soul Divider for the last seven years, and seemed thrilled to share a meal with a fellow New Englander.

The waitress, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate my charm. She sneered when I ordered a salad as my entrée. She made it clear that she didn’t consider leafy greens a meal. Everything else on the menu was fried with a side of fat. I needed to be mindful of these things, especially now that I was taking off my clothes for an audience on a regular basis again, in the world’s tiniest bunk.

“I’m originally from New Haven, but now when the band isn’t touring, I have a little cabin up in Maine.” Ralph explained, between spoonfuls of chili. Droplets of sweat formed on his forehead in response to its spiciness. “After driving this damn bus all over the country, I just want to fish. And not see another soul.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome, actually.” God, would that be me? Having to hide out in the woods with the bears? Eventually, someone was going to come looking for me.

I wondered if Ralph had skeletons in the closet as well.

“So what’s a nice girl like you doing on the road with a bunch of losers like this?” Ralph asked. I almost choked on my cherry tomato. “You seem way too smart for this.”

“I guess I’m just keeping my options open.” I smiled at him even though I knew he was still going to pry.

“Don’t you have a job to go to?” He continued, as I predicted. “I know there’s a recession going on, but come on.”

“I was in investment banking.”

“Did you get laid off?” Ralph finished off the last of his cornbread.

“I quit.” I smiled at his shock. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I had no life.”

“Listen, if you can learn anything from an old guy like me, make this it. Sometimes boring is better. I spent half my life looking for a party. I wound up alone. All it got me was driving a bus around for a bunch of hedonistic, moronic addicts and an intimate knowledge of the best AA meetings within every city limit of this fine country. This isn’t the lifestyle for smart girls like you. You need to get out before it swallows you.”

“Right now, I’m having fun.” I waved Ralph off of the bill and handed our waitress money.

“That’s how it all starts.” He sighed. We walked back to the bus in silence. I was glad he came with me, as we passed by several dilapidated houses that people were definitely still using. It reminded me of
Fight Club
.

I found Ryder in the back room, along with the rest of the members of the band, fighting computer generated zombies. Rap music pulsed from an iPod. Ryder stretched out his arm, inviting me to sit on his thigh. He wrapped his arms around me, controller and hands against my thighs. I watched as Adam and Thomas’s zombies fought to the death on a giant screen.

“Do you know how to play?” Ryder murmured in my ear. I needed to concentrate on the competition in front of us. This wasn’t the game I had in mind. I’d hoped to catch him back in the bunk so he could make good on his earlier promise, but this was going to have to do for now.

“Not really.” Videos games were a staple in my apartment. Jamie loved them. I used to appreciate his enthusiasm for them, but recently I just considered it an irritating time suck. I hated that he wanted to play with computer generated animation instead of me.

“Let me teach you.” Ryder handed me the controller and then covered my fingers with his. He guided me along, aiming the controller in the right direction, explaining how we were going to kick Thomas’s ass.

It was actually fun. We shot at zombies in a shopping mall. I took Thomas down repeatedly in the food court.

“Oh, bloody hell, lovie.” Thomas moaned when he ran out of lives. “It’s beginner’s luck, that’s all.”

“No, dude, you suck and got beat by a girl.” Ryder high fived me, and I wasn’t sure if he meant any of it as a compliment. Since when was I taking video games seriously? “Let’s go over to sound check, babe.”

Darkness enveloped the city now; only a few delinquent lights twinkled from the rundown buildings around us. A pink neon sign proclaiming we were about to enter Rock Candy flickered above, like it might explode and rain argon all over us. Ryder held my hand as we passed through the front door. I braced myself for another run in with Drake. Tension filled the dark room.

Drake’s feathers had already been ruffled, and I hoped it had nothing to do with me. The last thing I needed was to be abandoned in Detroit. He perched in front of his microphone, bawling out one of the crew members. Ryder kissed me, lingering just an extra moment before he joined the spectacle on the stage.

“Can you believe this dump?” That must have been Drake’s version of hello. “The sound sucks, this guy is a fucking moron. We should at least be playing at one of the casinos.”

“Dude, it’s cool.” Ryder tried to put out the fire erupting in the middle of the stage. “They paid our fee. We’re getting paid. Just have a good time. Relax.” He strapped on his guitar and started adjusting the settings calmly as if they were talking about the weather.

“Relax? Relax. You’ve got to be kidding. You’re happy with this shit? You’re happy to be a loser playing at some nostalgia club? We are not a fucking nostalgia act!”

“Hey, I’m just an employee.” Ryder threw his hands up in the air, conceding to Drake, his tone dripping with condescension. “I just show up where you tell me to. You have a problem, take it to The Mistress.”

Who the hell was The Mistress
? I wondered as the band launched into their first song. I fought the urge to sing along. I knew every word to every song, except for the ones on the latest album. God, I missed listening to Soul Divider. Good feelings flooded my system like endorphins. Singing along to their music in my bedroom. Road trips with Erin. Parties in college. All the things I’d given up to become an adult.

I might only be twenty-four, but I felt like an old lady looking back on the good old days. How much would Drake hate these thoughts right now? I couldn’t help but smiling at the chance to irritate him.

Drake stopped singing and threw down his microphone stand, charging at Thomas. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Playing the song, man.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I wrote it. I think it is.” Thomas shrugged. “Maybe it’s the monitors.” His eyes widened, realizing he threw an innocent sound guy into the line of fire.

Drake’s face turned bright red and I thought his head might launch off of his neck at any minute, and take off straight through the ceiling into the stratosphere. Nothing seemed off to me, but what girl really paid attention to the bass line? I couldn’t take my eyes off Ryder. I let his melody wrap around me like his body had so many times in the last few days. He kept his eyes closed as he played, and all I could hope was that he was thinking the very same thing.

“Don’t you people know how to do your jobs? If you don’t get your shit together, we won’t play!” Drake’s tirade snapped me out of my daze. My jaw dropped as I looked back at Ryder. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Knock yourself out, buddy. You don’t play, you don’t get paid.” Someone who must have been the club manager emerged in the midst of Drake’s meltdown. “And if you don’t start treating my staff with respect, I’ll throw you out of here on your ass. And I won’t pay you then, either.”

“You can’t do that! We have a contract. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Yeah.” The manager crossed his arms, bristling as he puffed out his chest. “You’re a has-been who doesn’t realize you’re lucky anyone still wants to shell out their hard earned money to see you.”

Drake slammed his microphone down to the floor, feedback loudly erupting over the speakers until the soundman had the good sense to shut them off. That guy was okay in my book. He stormed off stage, yelling at everyone and no one that he would sue this place, and that The Mistress would make them all sorry.

Who the hell was The Mistress?

R
yder suggested I meet him back on the bus so he could calm down the still blustering Drake. But it didn’t stop me from asking him about what had gone down in the club when he met me back at his bunk.

“The Mistress, Talis de Rancourt, is our manager.” Ryder sighed as he gathered my hands in his. He had a hard time sitting upright in the bunk. I knew if we lay down, I’d never get answers. “And probably the only person on earth more narcissistic than Drake.”

“Can their egos fit in the same room?” I giggled, then inhaled sharply as Ryder raised my fingers to his mouth, kissing each one as he listened to my question.

“Believe it or not, he kowtows to her. He thinks she has the answer to put us back in the spotlight. Her track record is pretty solid.” Ryder sounded bored and hollow talking about this woman, but I needed to know more about someone who could bring Drake down a peg.

“What’s her track record?”

“Real estate, some reality shows, and other bands that are pretty popular right now. Drake seems to think she’s got the Midas touch, but it pisses me off. We’re a real band that writes our own songs, not some manufactured publicity machine.”

“Is Drake modeling his comeback after some boy band?” Oh, this got better with every question.

“No, even worse.” Ryder’s eyes dropped as he visibly debated telling me more. He brought my hand back to his lap and squeezed it, his playful demeanor gone. “Immortal Dilemma.”

“The vampire band?” I clarified and Ryder nodded. “But that’s not real, it’s just a gimmick. Why is that so bad? She’s got a great idea, and it’s working. Maybe Drake’s on to something, partnering with her.”

“It’s not a gimmick, Melanie.” Ryder looked away from me.

“What’s not a gimmick?” My eyes were so wide I thought they might fall on to the bed. I panicked as he still didn’t look at me. Up until this point, I had no idea Ryder might be delusional. “That can’t be real, Ryder. There’s no such thing as vampires. They live in scary legends and horror movies.”

“Welcome to my horror movie.” He looked back at me, his eyes full of sadness and fear, even in this dark bunk. I swallowed hard, realizing all the little things that hadn’t added up all weekend might now add up to a big fucking deal.

“I don’t believe you.” My whole body shook as I forced the words out.

“Do you want me to drink your blood to prove it?” In a flash his mouth was against my neck. “It probably tastes as sweet as you smell.”

I stifled a scream and did my best not to plead for mercy. “No.”

No food, no windows, the sharp teeth, the cool feel to his skin.

Ryder was a vampire.

My choices weren’t good. I could accept this madness or step away from him, into the unknown.

The devil you know, those words never rang so true.

“Look at me,” I said, softly, as I guided his face back to mine. If he was going to hurt me, I was going to go down in beautiful oblivion. I couldn’t force myself to walk away. And whatever he was going to do to me would be a hundred times better than rotting away in some jail cell. “Whatever has happened to you, it doesn’t make you any less of a person. It doesn’t cancel out what you think, what you feel.”

He shook his head against my fingers. “It does. I’m not a person anymore. I’m a monster. I lost everything for this band, and then I have to listen to shit like what happened during sound check every single day. Nothing’s ever good enough for Drake. He doesn’t care what he destroys to get what he wants. Do you know I haven’t seen my girls in a year because of this?”

Ryder had been married to a semi-successful, totally beautiful actress named Shannon Seymour. Perky little blonde thing who starred in a sitcom about ten years ago. Their divorce had been splashed all over the gossip rags last year. At the time, Erin emailed me all the dirt, with a smiley face in the subject line. I never responded. Now as those images flashed through my mind, I wondered if that was her way of trying to drag me out of my adulthood jail and back to the land of the living. If she only knew how tangible Ryder’s pain was while I sat here in his bunk. That he’d never be a part of the land of the living again.

The irony was not lost on me. It emptied me.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered. “Maybe your wife—“

“Ex-wife.”

“Whatever. Maybe she’ll come around, and understand that you’re no different than you were before. That you still love them.”