Nightwish (An Echoes of Eternity Novel Book 1) (12 page)

“Nirvana changed the musical landscape,” Nolan said. “But the Guns N’ Roses will always be played on radio more often because a wider audience liked them.” He paused. “But I’m not gonna answer that question. Instead, I’m gonna ask a question: what happened to the rock star? Mick Jagger. Bono. Axl Rose. Dave Grohl. Every single rock star on the planet is from the twentieth century. Who’re the rock stars out there? Katy Perry? Pink? Eminem? Kanye West? They’re not rock stars; they’re pop singers and rappers. How about Taylor Swift? Unlike the others, she actually plays an instrument. She’s the closest thing we’ve got to a rock star. What the hell happened to rock ‘n’ roll?

“No one cares anymore,” he continued. “Everyone wants money and fame. They let rock n’ roll die. Cobain was a rock star…because he didn’t want to be a rock star. No one, other than his old bandmate from the Foo Fighters, has followed him in over two decades.” He looked at me. “We can change that…as a band.” He looked us over. “If you aren’t into that, let me know, so I can move on.”

Brandon cracked a grin and glanced at Kendall, who looked at me.

I couldn’t’ help but let loose with an ebullient smile. “Bring it on!”

We spent the next hour or so talking about our goals and how we’d achieve them. Overall, Nolan seemed like he’d fit in the band without disassociating himself. Before long, Kendall and Brandon had left, leaving me with Nolan. Without any intention, I found myself a few blocks away from
The Antique Boutique
.

“I’ve got one concern,” said Nolan.

“What’s that?”

“Earlier tonight, I felt a pretty strong connection between us.”

It’s still there
. I just nodded, feeling my chest grow tight at the subject and his straightforward manner. Nolan Hart did not like to play games. I appreciated that because, with my lack of dating, I didn’t know how to play them.

“Good. If we’re band mates,” Nolan said, “that’s all we are.”

It felt like he’d plunged a dagger into my heart. “Oh,” I said, shocked how the word came out so casually. “Of course.” I recalled how all the women waited for him outside the bar. “That makes sense.”

“Good.” At the end of the sidewalk, just before reaching the curb, he came to a stop.

Dazed and disappointed by this development, I passed the curb, but before I took another step into the street, I felt a strong arm corral me around the waist and turn me back onto the sidewalk a second before a Dodge Ram veered into the exact spot I’d stood a moment earlier.

“Whoa!” Nolan said, holding me in his warm embrace, only an inch from his heaving chest.

As I gasped for air, knowing that he’d saved my life, the piece of my heart that hoped to meet a strong, protective man like Nolan felt like it hadn’t evaded that truck, that it had gotten pulverized.

“Are you okay?” He looked me over with great concern.

No. Part of me just died
. I nodded, finding it impossible to look away from those magnetic eyes.

He released a huge sigh of relief.

My heart, which I had expected to eulogize, reached out for him. Or maybe my soul was trying to leave my body and ascend to heaven.

Nolan removed his hands from my shoulders. He cracked a partial grin. “Thank God
that
didn’t happen.”

“Yeah,” I conceded, trying to remain emotionless. “Thank God.”

When the passerby sign lit up, Nolan started into the walkway. But not seeing me at his side, he turned back and extended a hand. “Oh, so
now
you want to play it safe?”

That kind smile made my legs rubbery and, rather than slip to the ground, I used that moment to walk into the crosswalk and take his hand.

His palm twitched before he tentatively grasped onto my hand again. “Damn, you’re hot!” A second later, he slowed his stride and gave me a smile tinged with irony. “Yeah, there’s no way to put a spin on that comment.”

I chuckled as we made it to the other side of the street…and came upon
The Antique Boutique
. “This is me,” I said, motioning to the darkened shop.

“Don’t things have to be seventy-five years old to be considered an antique? Either you keep up one hell of a beauty regimen, or I need glasses.”

“I’ll settle for the first option.” As Nolan peered through the shop window, I said, “Tell me about the fire.”

“That was messed up. I started doing that a couple weeks ago to get the band’s name out there, but today was different.” His eyebrows drew close. “I just don’t remember lighting the flame, and the heat felt more intense than usual.”

“You didn’t seem too surprised at the time.”

“My concentration was elsewhere,” he said, holding my stare.

“Right…you walked into the crowd to do a solo. Very ballsy, by the way. I’m just glad the fire didn’t accidentally catch on anyone’s clothes.”

“Exactly. I never would have done it in a crowd of people. Someone would call the cops or the fire department. I mean, I could have killed someone!” Ashamed, he shook his head. “What was I thinking?”

His guilt made me feel terrible. But I couldn’t very well say, “
Don’t take it so hard. It was my fault. I shot a couple fireballs at you
.” He’d think I belonged in a nuthouse. I had a difficult time looking at him. “No one got hurt. You weren’t arrested. And you made your way into our band. Don’t think about what
could’ve
been. Think about what
is
.”

He contemplated my advice. “You got some college under your belt, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t take an education to be an optimist. But yeah, I got my Bachelors degree today.”

“Congrats,” he said with a sincere smile. He stared at me for a while. “Well, I’ll see you around.” He turned and headed in the direction we’d come.

“Wait! How do we get in touch for rehearsals and writing and stuff?”

He stopped, turned around, and cocked his head toward the shop. “I know where you hang out.” He half-pivoted before turning back. “And hey…I think we could be something special.”

The way he looked in my eyes reeled me in. The confidence and determination in his voice made my heart clench, proving that it hadn’t died after all. Then I put his words in context of the band…and felt sadness descend as he walked away from me.

CHAPTER NINE

Just as I planned to head the other way, the light in the shop snapped on and set me on edge.

Darius stood on the other side of the window and signaled me to enter the shop. He opened the door. “Good evening, Serena.”

“What are you doing here?

“Looking for you.”

“How did you get inside the shop?”

“I have my ways. Let’s move on to more pressing matters? We must find a way to stop Zephora from taking over Lorraine’s body.”

“How do we do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m just stymied by your brilliance,” I said. “Einstein must’ve been jealous. Can’t you compel her to just leave Grams’s body?”

“She’s too powerful for that. Many years ago, I swore an oath to protect Zephora. That oath never fades, no matter the years, no matter the spiritual plane.”

“Even if she conjured up a few hydrogen bombs?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“So, I’ve got an impotent vampire to protect me. Awesome!”

“I’m not impotent.”

“Stomping your foot into the ground like a bratty toddler doesn’t help your case.”

“Stomping?” He looked at the floor, puzzled. “There was no stomping. None at all.”

“Look out, Zephora, a senior citizen vampire is hot on your tail.”

“Senior citizen? That’s absurd!”

“You’re over sixty-five, right? Sorry, Gramps! And how do you plan to stop her? Run her down with your wheelchair?”

He walked toward me, calm and collected, until he stopped a few inches away. “The world is changing as we speak, and you’re cracking jokes.”

“Or truth. Either you way you look at it, the truth sucks.”

“Tell me about the fire you mentioned.”

“You know how Spider-Man slings webs? I can do the same thing with fire.”

“Intriguing!” He gave that some thought. “Perhaps we can burn Lorraine alive.”

“Yeah, I’ll bring the chocolate. You get the marshmallows and
Grams
crackers.” But the stab at lighthearted humor made me cry inside. I just didn’t know how to handle losing her.

Darius couldn’t stave off a partial grin.

Obviously, he didn’t feel the same sense of loss that I did. “Oh, he
does
have a sense of humor. Good to know. So I have to believe you were kidding when you considered
murdering
my grandmother!”

“We must consider all options.”

“But killing Grams isn’t one of them. Can Zephora perform magic in Grams’s body?”

“Yes. Once she fuses with it.”

“And after that, she’s virtually unstoppable?”

He nodded. “Perhaps now you can grasp why I suggested death by fire.”

“I can’t burn Grams’s body! I just…can’t.”

“All right. Have you discovered your other abilities?”

“I can astral project, which is basically like being invisible. So yeah, great ‘gift!’”

He stared at me, nonplussed. “That
is
a big deal. In fact, it’s unprecedented.”

I shrugged, feeling like I’d been saddled with a second-hand superpower.

“But you can be anyplace, at any time. You’re basically omnipotent.”

“So I can watch as people pluck their nose hairs or floss? Look out Batman: there’s a new superhero in Gotham!”

“You can oversee what Zephora plans to do…and try to stop her.”

“But I can only astral project when I’m asleep. What do you expect me to do: sleep my life away? Besides, we can’t stop her.”

A bell dinged as the door opened, revealing Kendall as she led Brandon into the shop. “Nirvana changed the musical landscape. They ushered in Grunge. Guns N’ Roses didn’t change music.”

“Are you kidding me?” asked Brandon, irritated. “The Gunners brought rock back from hair metal. They wore T-shirts and jeans, not spandex and make-up. Rock music is about attitude. It’s about fighting against uniformity. Nirvana had both, I’ll give you that, but rock stars put on a show. The Gunners did that. Nirvana? Are you kidding me? Kurt Cobain stared at the floor and screamed into the microphone. That’s not putting on a show. That’s not fun. That’s depressing. Just like their music.”

“Kurt Cobain was brilliant. He wrote poetry and—”

“I’m not denying that. And I’m okay with the band recording some depressing songs. There’s a place for that in rock n’ roll, but I want to lift people up. I want them to forget their troubles. I want them to have fun. That’s what metal is all about.”

Kendall was about to respond but caught sight of me and Darius and stopped short, extracting a hand and holding it out like a tollgate, stopping Brandon behind her.

“It’s all right,” I said, “Darius was boring me with his interpretation of the history of witchcraft.”

Kendall, raising her eyebrows, glowered as though she’d just walked in on a lecture of the history of the world. “We should go.”

“No!” I said, leaving Darius behind. “We need your help.”

“Told you,” said Brandon, walking past Kendall and heading down an aisle. “Does Grams ever make any sales?” He picked up a silver platter and checked out his hair in its reflection. “This has been here since we met.” He blew on the plate and a puff of dust blew into the air, causing him to draw back.

I hadn’t told either Brandon or Kendall about Grams’s debilitated state, mostly because I didn’t want them to worry, but also because I knew they’d want to talk about it, and I already spent enough time worrying about her. Of course, she hadn’t truly left me, but the Alzheimer’s had so deteriorated her mental faculties that the grandmother I knew and loved had already moved on. 

As much as I hated to admit it, I had only recently passed the stage of denial and had slipped into a phase of anger that came as quickly as it disappeared. Over the past couple months, I felt so ashamed and embarrassed by these irrational feelings that I had isolated myself from my two best friends.  

“So,” Brandon said, approaching Darius. “You’re pale, sure, but other than that, I don’t get a vampire vibe from him.”

Darius quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve met other vampires?”

“Well, no, because they don’t exist.”

“Of course.” A glimmer of a smile tugged on his lip before it disappeared a moment later.

“Are you a master vampire? Been around for hundreds of years?”

Darius nodded.

“You can probably kill a fly with chopsticks and stuff?”

Darius didn’t respond.

“Mr. Miyagi?
The Karate Kid
?” With nothing forthcoming, Brandon shook his head, incredulous. “Aw, come on. The original is a 80s classic. How about
The Lost Boys
? Kiefer Sutherland as a kickass vampire: you must’ve seen that one, right?”

Unblinking, Darius just stared at the young man standing opposite him.

“Wait, that’s not your badass expression, is it? Because, if it is, dude, Kiefer Sutherland’s character would kick your ass in a—”

A gust of air hit Brandon’s face, and he wavered for a moment before glancing on either side of him. “Where did he go?” He whirled around, saw Darius standing behind him, and jerked back, shocked. He put a hand to his chest. “Whoa!”

Darius extended his arm to reveal a wallet in his palm.

“That’s so sad.” Brandon accepted his wallet. “You have super strength and super speed, you can hook up with every hot chick on the planet, and you’ve dedicated your life to becoming a…pickpocket?”

Exasperated, Darius shook his head.

“Lofty career goal,” Brandon said. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a noble calling…when you could be bleeding people dry.” He shrugged. “I just didn’t expect you to be bleeding them of their cash. But I guess even vampires have to pay the mortgage.”

“Correction: I’m vampiric.”

“Dude, you’re a vampire. Deal with it!”

“I’ve scoured the globe for vampires, and from every indication, I’m the last one. But even then…one is too much.”

“Ah, so you’re a suicidal vampire? Kind of redundant, isn’t it? I mean, you’re already dead.” He cleared his throat. “Darius,” he said in the typical voiceover tone heard during 30-second movie trailers. “He’s slain thousands, and he’s back in…Dead and Deader. And next year, don’t miss him in the conclusion to the saga: Deader and…Deadest!”

“You fancy yourself quite the comedian. How painstaking for those of us with a sense of humor.”

“Whoa!” Brandon chuckled. “I get it: pain...staking!” He lifted a hand for a high-five.

“Only I’m very much alive. And I plan on doing my job.” Darius’s gaze found mine. “Protecting Serena’s grandmother.”

“Is she in danger?” asked Kendall.

With a glance, Darius deferred to me on that one. I appreciated the respect; since Kendall and Brandon had regarded Grams as a pseudo-grandmother, they would have disliked a stranger explaining that he couldn’t have prevented what had happened to Grams.

“Is that a yes?” Kendall asked.

I told them about the seriousness of Grams’s disease and how another witch had pushed aside Grams’s spirit and had taken control of her body. Through it all, I spoke in a distant tone, trying to push my emotions aside. If I let myself feel the anger that I’d shoved to the outskirts of my mind, I’d lash out at all three of them. And what good would that do?

“Unbelievable,” said Kendall.

“I know,” I admitted.

“No,” she said. “I meant that’s why you’ve been so secretive lately.” She turned to Brandon and set her gaze on mine again. “We thought it was because you were finishing school. You know: finals and all that. But you’ve been keeping this from us?”

“I’m sorry.” Regret crept into my heart. “I should’ve told you—”

“Are you okay?” asked Kendall, walking up and embracing me.

Expecting an angry outburst, but instead receiving lips that quivered with sadness, I appreciated that Kendall set aside her irritation and supported me when I needed it most.

Brandon, who usually gave way to reticence rather than sensitivity due to his abusive upbringing, sauntered over and wrapped an arm around both of our shoulders, locking the three of us in a tight embrace.

“Wow,” I said, shocked that Brandon would give way to sentimentality. Deep down, he had a kind heart, but he often circumvented that trait by relying on humor to conceal his emotions, not unlike me.

“Hey, I have feelings, too, you know.” He stood silent for a couple seconds. “Besides, this increases my chances for a threesome tonight, right?”

I immediately broke away from them with a big smile. I loved Brandon like a brother, and he regarded me as the sibling he never had, but since he’d always been quick to hug me or throw an arm around me, Kendall’s suspicious mind told me that she always wondered if he masked a secret crush on me…because he never treated her with that type of affection. If she looked deeper, however, she would have noticed that our easy-going relationship was built on a buddy-type foundation rather than a romantic one. His threesome comment, however, didn’t help matters.

Case in point: Kendall glanced back and forth between me and Brandon.

During her freshman year of college, she made me promise not to tell Brandon about her feelings, and since then she’d become a master at hiding the truth, which had always wrecked other potential relationships because no man could live up to the man of her dreams.

Nevertheless, we’d never engaged in a group hug. Their warmhearted display sliced deep, reaching sentimentality that, until now, I’d refused to acknowledge. It triggered a thought that I’d lost Grams forever, regardless of whether or not Zephora abandoned her host.

Unable to disregard my fear that Grams’s absence would result in a solitary life, my legs wobbled as the strength inside me vanished. Still, I wouldn’t allow tears to surface. As much as I welcomed my friends’ support, it made me accept the truth: I’d soon lose the only family member I’d ever had, at least until I’d learned of my…
other
family.

Instead of thinking about my birth mother and my sister, I focused on my niece. I’d grown up with an affectionate and attentive grandmother, whereas Celestina had been raised by a cold, calculating grandmother and an alcoholic mother. She needed the support that I’d received as a child. She needed someone who cared about her and loved her.

Since we shared an immediate connection based on fondness and trust, I wanted to protect Celestina so she wouldn’t succumb to the cynicism and loneliness that had removed the humanity from the women who cared for her. Our budding relationship reminded me of the way Grams had related to me: honest and respectful, tough but nurturing, all the while providing guidance, steadfast loyalty, and trust.

What better way to honor Grams’s dedication and devotion than to treat Celestina that same way? Although I’d only seen her twice, I knew that she was starved for kindness and attention, and I wanted her to know what it felt like when someone loved her. Having come to that conclusion, not to mention acknowledging how much I feared losing Grams and knowing how much it would hurt when she finally left, I found that the tears in my eyes had dried because fully opening up myself to the weight of loss was too unwieldy.