Warlord Metal (18 page)

Silence filled the room as the words faded, irretrievable.

Jordan could feel a pain in her chest. She came around her lover, facing her, a hand on one shoulder and the other reaching up to caress a cheek. Their eyes met and she mentally questioned, Are you going to be alright?

The teenager's pale eyes stung with unshed tears and she nodded, biting her lower lip.

Assured that Sonny was okay for the moment, Jordan turned to face Middlestead. Emerald eyes pierced him and her presence seemed to grow and fill the room as she bristled. In two strides, she was standing in front of her band mates. With a quick glance, Atkins and Hampton stepped aside.

For some weird reason, the drummer felt like a bug under a microscope as the smaller woman studied him. A flash of a large encampment, leather armor, a woman on a throne examining him with cold, calculating eyes. And then it was gone and he was in the warehouse once again.

"Your problem isn't with Sonny, it's with me. At least be man enough to admit it."

Dark blue eyes flashed and Middlestead growled. "Got that right, bitch!" he agreed. "You took advantage of my sister. If it were up to me, you'd be dead already."

"Tom!" Sonny interrupted. "That's not what happened!" She was cut off by a sharp glance tossed over her lover's shoulder.

Returning her attention to the man before her, Jordan nodded. "You're right. I did."

There was an immediate hubbub of murmurings, drowned out by Sonny's plaintive denial. "No, Jordan...."

"Yes, Sonny," the redhead insisted in a firm voice, her eyes never leaving Middlestead's. "I could have stopped. I had the choice."

Hearing his suspicions confirmed, the drummer seemed to deflate. Somehow, he thought it would be more difficult to get the guitarist to admit it. Now that she had, he was at a loss of what to do next.

Jordan scrutinized him a bit longer, mind racing. "You think I'm going to treat her like the others," she stated.

Middlestead's eyes hardened again, but he didn't answer.

"I don't think that's possible," the redhead continued with a slight smile. Turning, she regarded the teenager, her demeanor inviting everyone in the room to have a look, as well. "She's not like them. Not by a long shot." Her smile widened at the blush she detected beneath the tan.

The drummer looked at his sister, not seeing a gangly youngster anymore. She was a beautiful young woman with the thoughts and feelings of an adult. Mentally comparing her to the women Jordan usually bedded, he recognized the very basic difference. She loves Jordan....

The guitarist turned back to Middlestead, her smile fading to sternness. "Shit happened, Tom. Deal with it." She leaned forward, her voice dropping low enough that only he could hear. "And if you ever hurt her again, you're a dead man."

Middlestead pulled back, a little surprised at her vehemence. He blinked down at her small frame, having no doubt that his longer reach and fifty pound advantage would do him no good in a head to head with her. He nodded mutely.

"Go apologize to her."

He nodded again and stepped past Jordan, a small part of himself wondering, When the hell did I start taking orders from her?

Hampton breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, glad that's over."

The woman seemed to dwindle to her normal size. "Me, too." She blew out a breath and ran hands through her red gold hair.

"You know, I'm honor bound to kill you now," Atkins said, only half in jest.

Jordan nodded with a tight grin. "Yeah. I know."

He shook his head, long brown hair swaying. "Hell, girlfriend! You lasted for longer than I woulda, and that's a fact!" He clapped her on the shoulder.

With a rueful grin, she said, "That's because women have more staying power."

The bald man rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the sexual innuendo. "I'm gone," he said, hands raised in surrender. He turned towards the stage. "Okay, people! Let's get this mess cleaned up and some music played!"

Jordan turned back to the siblings as the other two Warlords headed for the stage.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Middlestead was saying.

"I know, Tom," Sonny responded with a sweet smile, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "But, if I get hurt, it's my choice. Do you understand?"

He nodded reluctantly.

The redhead watched them, her grim thoughts returning. Oh, you'll get hurt, alright, little girl. You shouldn't play with fire.

Aug 28, 2001

I am so drained. This entire day has been a roller coaster ride.

I was right.... Waking up with Jordan was wonderful, sweet, sexy. I could get used to this!

And she's so wise! She was able to get Tom over being mad at us without resorting to violence! I really expected him to fly off the handle and smack her. Good thing he didn't, because then I'd have to hurt him myself.

It was hard, though. Quite a few nasty things were said.... I still think that if I were bedding Lando, Tom would accept it much faster and with better grace. He's raised me from eleven years old - that's gotta put some pressure on a person. Nobody would want their kids or siblings to go through the crap that gays and lesbians do.

I don't know where the boldness came from today, but I marched right into the warehouse and kissed Jordan in front of God and everybody! So, everybody knows now. I still don't know what all this is going to mean for our... mu future.... Jordan and I haven't discussed it. Don't know that we will anytime soon, either. I think she's afraid to say anything because she might not be able to hold up her end of any commitment.

And, if she did make a commitment to me, I don't know that I could believe in it. Not that I would expect her to outright cheat on me, or anything.... But, I know how she is - I can't imagine that she'd be able to keep a promise like that. At least, not right now. Maybe in the future....

We went to a friend of hers. I've now got an ID that says I'm 22. Jordan said that with a little bit of makeup, I could probably pass fairly easily. And I did! I was able to get into the Satyricon tonight and watch Warlord! (Yet another reason Tom wasn't happy tonight....) I love watching them play! And Jordan ignored all the women vying for her attention, spending her breaks with me! That felt really good....

Excuse me while I yawn! I've gotta get some sleep!

Sonny backed through the glass door and into the lobby, arms laden. She carried her pack on her back, a camera case slung over her shoulder and an armful of McDonald's bags. She grinned at the receptionist. "Hi! They in number three again today?" she asked.

The older woman looked up from her paperwork, a stylized logo of a horse gleaming starkly white against a deep blue background behind her. She smiled and nodded. "Yes, they are. How are you today?"

"Great!" The teenager propped a bag on the corner of the woman's desk and fished out a cup of coffee from it. "Here ya go. Thought you could use the extra caffeine dealing with those yahoos." A handful of sugar and creamer packets were sprinkled on the desktop.

Surprised, the woman thanked her as she took the steaming Styrofoam cup.

"No problem!" Sonny repositioned the bags in her arms with a smile and a wink. To one side of the reception desk were a pair of wooden double doors and she approached them. The secretary jumped up to help her through and then the dark woman was alone in a hallway. She went in search of Warlord.

The technician closest to the door heard a rattling at the knob. He frowned a bit, keeping his aural attention on the guitar strains as he rolled his chair over a couple of feet and opened it.

"Thanks," Sonny breathed in relief and rolled her eyes. She made her way into the recording booth, hearing the door click softly shut behind her.

The wall to her left held shelves of recording equipment, standing waist high. Above was the stylized logo on a dark blue wall. On the wall across from the door was a small table and chair. It was here that Sonny settled her packages. To her right were several sound boards, currently manned by two technicians and the producer. Glass filled the rest of the area in front of them, a picture window looking into another room. Music filled the room and the three men conferred back and forth as they adjusted switches and mixed the sound.

Sonny removed her camera bag and backpack, rotating her shoulders in relief at the loss of the burden. Settling down in the chair, she finally afforded herself a view of the other room. As usual, the first sight of her lover caused an almost physical jolt within her.

Jordan and Atkins were laying down the guitar tracks on a song. Both their eyes were closed as they flowed with the music in their headphones. The other two band members were watching from their places, their own headphones on, as well. The woman's hair was pulled back out of her eyes in a ponytail. She wandered the realms of inner darkness, interpreting what she saw into sound. Her tattoo seemed to flash ominously in the fluorescent lighting overhead.

And then she and the tall man beside her finished the song with a flourish. There was dead silence for a few seconds before a tech flipped a couple of switches and nodded. The producer, an older man with long, grey hair, leaned in with a smile and said, "That's a wrap, folks. Sounds great!"

"Break time?" Sonny asked.

The producer glanced over at her. She held up a Big Mac container and waggled her eyebrows with a grin. Smiling in response, he said, "Sure." Turning back to the microphone, "Half hour break, kids. Looks like dinner's here."

There was hooting and hollering in the studio proper at this announcement. The band began setting things down and turning of equipment.

Sonny handed the sandwich to the older man and a largish bag to the nearest technician. "Taco Time tomorrow, guys," she informed them. "Lemme know what you want." And then she picked up the two other large bags and left the room.

Atkins met her at the door, almost running over the teenager in his haste to get out of the room. She heard him mutter something about a "smoke" as he disappeared down the hall. She pushed into the room and headed for the unused piano to set her items down.

"Man, am I glad to see you!" her brother exclaimed as he approached. "My stomach's been making so much noise, I'm surprised it hasn't messed up the recording!" He draped an arm companionably across her shoulder.

A tinny voice came over the speakers. "It did," one of the techs acknowledged. "But it sounded good so we kept it."

There was laughter as Sonny set out the fast food, holding onto the items for herself and the redhead.

Jordan had taken a few seconds to gather herself after the song. She had heard the producer accept it and then a voice in the background. The guitarist couldn't make out the words, but she knew who it was.

Torturing herself, her eyes opened but she refused to look into the control booth. As she powered down her instrument and shut things down, a dinner break was called and she could hear Sonny enter the room. Jordan fiddled with her guitar as she reflected.

Months before, while they had been on tour, she had found herself in such close proximity to Sonny, she couldn't even think. It was not something she enjoyed. The loss of personal control when in the teenager's presence got on her nerves. So much so that she had done everything to keep away from her. The nights were filled with haunting dreams and the days with irrational feelings coursing through her.

Once the tour was over, things returned to normal. Well, almost normal. The dark young woman still invoked these weird emotions in her presence. But, at least Jordan didn't have to be present so much anymore. She rarely just 'hung out' with Sonny - unless she had a woman on her arm to take out her libidinous reactions on.

Three weeks ago, that had all changed.

A part of Jordan was damned glad she'd finally gotten to bed the teenager. It'd been a part of her masturbatory fantasies for months. She'd hoped that by achieving the fantasy, the apparent depth of feeling she had for Sonny would mellow out. It'd happened before when she'd finally bagged someone who'd been unattainable for a long period of time. Given a couple of days, fucking like bunnies, the infatuation faded. Real life intruded. The woman was then left on the side of the fast track Jordan travelled.

The guitarist was unprepared for what happened this time. The longer she was involved with the dark haired beauty, the stronger the attraction became.

It was terrifying.

"Hey, sexy," a low voice insinuated itself into her thoughts.

Jordan set her guitar in its stand and turned to finally regard her lover, eyes sweeping up the long frame.

Sonny was still in her work uniform, khaki shorts and short sleeved shirt. Sturdy walking shoes were on her feet and the shirt was unbuttoned to where it disappeared beneath her belt, revealing a white tank top beneath. Her dark hair was pulled back at the temples, exposing a long, graceful neck.

The slow burn of lust sparked deep in Jordan's belly.

The younger woman settled the food and drink containers on a folding chair she'd scooted over. She straightened and stepped forward with a smile. "I got you a Crispy Chicken," she said.

Jordan stepped into the teenager's space, not touching. She let her eyes roam the tall body before her, inhaling deeply as she leaned close. "I'm hungry," she rumbled before nibbling the inviting flesh at the edge of a khaki collar.

Shivering, Sonny sighed and closed her eyes, knowing the redhead didn't mean food. "Now?" she asked, half in chagrin and half hopeful.

The guitarist closed the fractional distance between them, pressing her body against the taller woman. "Now," she confirmed.

Sonny blushed in embarrassment, imagining all eyes on the two of them. She swallowed nervously.

Sensing the teenager's hesitation, Jordan pulled back a bit to look into sky blue. "Unless you'd rather not...?" she offered in a low voice. Schyeah, right! Like you're gonna let a little thing like her modesty stop you!

As a moth to flame, Sonny nodded in answer, the excitement overriding her need to keep things low key.