Revelation of Blood (9 page)

My breathing increased as I listened to the
song slack-jawed. The look in his eyes, coupled with the lyrics
‘Would you find it in your heart to make this go away and let me
rest in pieces’ made tears spring to my eyes and quickly fall down
my face.

Archer noticed Jameson singing to me and when
his eyes met my face, he saw what the song was doing to me. No
amount of alcohol could have prepared me for what I was facing
tonight. I was standing in the middle of my own personal hell and I
had an audience of hundreds present for my humiliation and
shame.

Archer came to stand in front of me, blocking
me from Jameson’s view, as he put his hands on my shoulders.
“Skye,” he whispered, his face full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I
didn’t want to believe those songs were about you.” He wiped the
heavy tears from my face with his thumbs as he cupped my cheeks.
“We’ll go, okay? We don’t have to stay. I’ll have a word with
Jameson later tonight.”

“No,” I shook my head, suddenly angry. “Don’t
you dare. He has a right to his anger, to his hurt. He has a right
to tell me how he feels. I deserve this, Archer. I broke his heart;
I devastated him by falling in love with you. If this is what he
needs to move on then I’ll gladly stand here all night and take
everything he gives me. I want my friend back, Archer. Maybe this
is the only way he knows how to heal, who knows; who are we to say?
But, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to deny him his
voice.”

Archer frowned at me, a look of indecision
playing on his features, as I moved him to the side and was brought
back into Jameson’s view. His eyes bored into mine as Archer
wrapped one protective arm around my back. I was suddenly a lot
braver than I had been when he sang his first song. I let him see
the full weight of my remorse in my eyes as he sang to me. I told
him without words how sorry I was that I wasn’t the woman he
thought me to be; sorry that I wasn’t the strong woman he thought
he fell in love with. I conveyed the full weight of my heart during
those three minutes and prayed he understood what I was trying to
say.

After the song ended, the crowd whooped and
cheered as the rest of the band appeared. Jameson took one last
long look at me before he got up and started his show like nothing
was amiss. The next two hours passed relatively without incident
and I finally let loose and began having fun. I loved to watch
Jameson perform; I always had. Pride for my brother, for my friend,
was shining brightly from within me.

Archer and I danced to almost every song The
Manky Langer played and we were really enjoying ourselves. Seeing
my Archer let loose and have fun was always such a big turn on for
me. I remembered the first time we’d danced at The Mausoleum and
how surprised I was that this seemingly straight-laced businessman
was a closet Goth/Industrialist. Looking back, that night took
place only a couple of months ago and I was shocked at how much had
happened in my life in such a short period of time.

The rhythm of my favorite song, Knackered
Jacks, began to sound on the Bodhrán drums and I squealed like a
teenager and turned to Archer. As we began to twirl and dance,
Jameson invited some of the crowd up on stage to celebrate the
closing song. Girls flocked to the front and Archer lifted me out
of the way so that I wouldn’t get hit in the rush to be near
Jameson. When the stage was as full as it could get, the push on
the crowd lessened and he set me back down.

We laughed and resumed dancing by the stage.
Archer skillfully twirled and maneuvered my body with a skill that
made my panties moist. He knew my body like the back of his hand
and knew just how to work me. As the song started to end, Archer
lifted me once more and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“God, I fucking love you,” he smiled happily
as he rested his forehead against mine.

Breathing hard from the excitement, I kissed
him intensely; our tongues sliding together in a hungry dance as we
groped each other with our hands. Time stood still in that moment
as we lost ourselves to one another. Nothing mattered except me and
him and the profound love we felt for each other.

The cheering became deafening and to my
genuine surprise, the band queued up one last song. The riffs of
Jameson’s electric guitar vibrated and the crowd began cheering
even louder. It took me a second to realize what song they were
playing.

Puddle of Mudd’s ‘She Hates Me’ hit me like a
Mac truck and I turned wide eyes to stare up at Jameson. He was now
standing in front of me on stage, surrounded by beautiful girls, as
he sang the song directly to me.

I felt my legs sliding down Archer’s hips as
he sat me down again. “We are definitely going to have a talk when
we get home tonight,” he growled protectively as he stared daggers
at Jameson.

Jameson ignored him and everyone else in the
room as if they didn’t exist. He sang the lyrics to me with a
satisfied smirk on his face and that really pissed me off. It felt
like we were beating a dead horse at this point; me being the horse
and Jameson the stick. I got what he was trying to tell me during
‘My Immortal’ and ‘Rest In Pieces’. But this song was just meant to
hurt me. I didn’t need a cherry topper for my humiliation sundae.
It was already fully loaded; he’d seen to that.

I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowed my
eyes, and gave him back everything he was giving me. I sang along
to the song loudly and changed all the ‘She’s’ to ‘He’s’ as we
stared daggers at each other. This song worked perfectly for the
both of us, it seemed.

I felt Archer glance back and forth between
Jameson and me as he stood off to my side. Jameson leaned down so
that he was singing the song in my face. I stood on tip toes to
sing back in his. Screw being polite. If this was how he wanted to
play it, fine. I’d apologized from the deepest reaches of my soul;
I’d told him eighty different ways how completely sorry I was.
Singing ‘she fucking hates me’ in my face was a hard slap to it. I
didn’t hate him but I was growing tired of the grudge so I didn’t
feel bad as I sang the song back to him. After all, I was starting
to develop one of my own.

Archer threw his hands up exasperatedly and a
few seconds later the song ended. Jameson thanked the crowd,
grabbed the nearest girl’s hand and exited the stage with his arm
around her shoulders. He made sure to wink at me before he
disappeared stage right.

“Asshole,” I huffed as I shook my head and
turned back to Archer.

He did not look pleased with our earlier
display. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shook his head, and
then folded his arms over his chest. “This shit between you two
will be worked out tonight,” he growled. “I’m not allowing this to
go on for a minute longer. Both of you are my children and I love
you with all my heart, but this shit stops now.”

I sighed, properly chastised, and glanced
down at my hands. “Sorry. I’ll go talk to him.”

“You do that,” he frowned. “Then tell Jameson
to meet us at Les Oubliette when he’s finished. I’m going to go get
the car. I’ll meet you outside in ten.” He gave me a quick peck on
the lips and then disappeared into the crowd.

Damn
. Archer was pretty angry at us
and I didn’t like it one bit. I had to fix this…STAT. I jumped up
on stage and said hello to Syd, Jameson’s bassist and backup
singer, and see about getting backstage.

“Well if it isn’t the heartbreak kid
herself,” Syd frowned up at me as he locked his bass in its case.
“I’ll have you know this tour has been hell on the entire band
thanks to you two.”

“Shit,” I sighed as I ran my fingers through
my hair. “Look, Syd, I’m really sorry about that. Jameson and I are
just going through a hard time. I’m going to make this right, I
promise you.”

“I hope so,” he sighed as he pulled me in for
a hug. “Jameson’s been a real pain in the ass the last three weeks.
He mopes around during the day like someone shot his kitten and
then ends up getting drunk every night before the show. I don’t
know what the hell is going on with you two, but he can’t go on
like this. The band is going to suffer if he doesn’t get his shit
together.”

Oh crap
. It was worse than I thought.
“Can I go talk to him?”

“Sure. He’s backstage somewhere. Just do me a
favor and please, whatever you do, don’t make shit worse. We’ve got
a show back in Austin in a week and a half and we need him on his
game for this one. Our record execs are coming out. I like you
Skye, I do, but you seem to be the only person in the world who can
bring out the worst in him.”

“Ouch, Syd,” I frowned and started to back
up. His words, although true, hurt like a bitch. “That was low.” I
shook my head and turned on my heel toward backstage.

There were girls milling about everywhere as
they waited for their chance to strike up a conversation with one
of the band members. I sidestepped around them as I looked for
Jameson, but I didn’t see him anywhere. My eyes landed on Chase,
the band’s Bodhrán drummer, and he pointed to a door down the hall.
I guess he knew where Jameson was. I raised my chin in thanks and
made my way to the door. It was closed but I didn’t bother knocking
in case Jameson pretended he wasn’t in there. I needed to see him
and hash this drama shit out.

As I opened the door, my wide, surprised eyes
took in the scene before me. Jameson was standing in the middle of
the room with a new bottle of whiskey at his mouth and his pants
lowered on his hips. A girl with long red hair was on her knees,
her head bobbing back and forth in his crotch.

Jameson lowered the bottle from his lips and
smiled wickedly at me. “Hello,
a luaidh
,” he purred with
more venom than I thought him capable of. “You’re just in time to
join the party.”

“Jesus, Jameson,” I whispered, disgusted, as
I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Are you here to gawk or do you want to get
in on this?” he leered as his eyes swept my body again. He fisted
his free hand into the girl’s hair and sped up the pace at which
she was servicing him. “I’m hoping you want to jump in, Skye. I’ve
missed fucking you. No one fucks like you baby.”

“Wow. That had better be the booze talking,
dheartháir
,” I scowled at him before addressing the girl.
“Are you just going sit there and let him say those things in front
of you while you’re on your knees sucking his dick? Where’s your
self-respect, woman?”

She withdrew her lips from Jameson’s cock
with a loud
slurp
and looked up at me. “This is Jameson
Doyle, the lead singer of The Manky Langer,” she scoffed, as if
that explained everything, before she stuck her lips around the
length of him again.

Jameson laughed and took another big swig
from his bottle. “Well, there you have it. Now if you’re not here
to join in, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m a little
busy at the moment.”

I shook my head and looked at him like I’d
never seen him before. “I came here to have a heart-to-heart with
you, but I can see it’s pointless. I don’t know who the hell you
are anymore, Jameson.” I swallowed thickly and started backing
toward the door, my eyes on the floor in front of me. I couldn’t
bear to look at him a second longer. “Archer wants you to meet him
at Les Oubliette whenever you’re…finished here.”

“This might take a while,” he chuckled
unkindly and I heard a splash of liquid as he brought the bottle to
his mouth again.

I turned toward the door and took one last
look before exiting. Jameson was staring at me with a mixture of
lust and anger.
Well, fuck you too
, my eyes told him
silently as I offered the girl some parting advice. “Just a little
tip, honey? Jameson loves it when you use lots of teeth.”

I left the door wide open as I left and a
second later smiled when Jameson cursed. “Fuck! Jesus, don’t use
your teeth. She was kidding.”

I met Archer’s Audi out front and silently
got in, shutting the door a little harder than I meant to. Okay, so
maybe I was a little angry.

“I take it your talk with Jameson didn’t go
well?” he asked with a frown.

“No, it went fine,” I smiled thinly over at
him then changed the subject before my temper took a turn for the
worse. “What’s Les Oubliette?”

“It’s a vampire club on Newbury Street,” he
explained as he reached out to hold my hand. “Well, under Newbury
Street more precisely. You’ll like it, babe.”

I nodded my head and silently turned to stare
out at the city as we drove. My brief visit with Jameson was
bothering me. I wasn’t in love with him anymore but seeing him
there, in that position, was a little disconcerting. I couldn’t
believe how he had acted. The Jameson I fell in love with would
never have been so cruel. But then again, I had only known Jameson
a short time. Maybe this was who he really was. One thing was
definitely certain, he was a straight-up asshole when he was
angry.

Archer pulled up to a tall brownstone and
parked. A second later, a man appeared by his side and opened the
door for him.

“Evening,
athair
,” he greeted with a
formal bow.

“Evening,
dheartháir
,” Archer replied
as he shook the man’s hand and then came around to open my door for
me.

“Does everyone in Boston know you?” I asked
as Archer led me up the brownstone steps to what looked like an
upscale coffee house.

“Of course not,” he chuckled as he held the
door open for me. “But, every vampire knows OF me.”

The coffee house was relatively deserted this
time of the night. Two men manned the counter as four men in
business suits sat at different tables appearing to read the paper.
I could tell by how alert they were that they were not mere
customers; they were guards.