Angel Dares (13 page)

Kurt gave a world-weary shrug and took a seat at an empty table. ‘Well, darlin’, that’s the danger of fame. Keep your real friends close because you’ll find the hangers-on soon drop off if the money is right.’

Margot signalled to one of her assistants to fetch a round of drinks and pizza for us. I could feel the envious looks coming my way from my band mates in Seventh Edition. At least the other members of Gifted had spread out to be sociable. I could see Matt talking to drumming legend Brian: someone else with his dream come true tonight. The blonde photographer popped up and perched on Brian’s knee, joining in the conversation. Eli Davis circulated like a piranha, chomping on a slice of margarita.

‘So you and the band are all really close, right?’ I asked Kurt, deciding it was time I got down to the business of warning them.

‘Yep, like brothers. Want to strangle them sometimes, but we’re tight all the same.’

‘And … and you’re held together by your music or by something more?’

Kurt exchanged a look with Margot, as if to say “now where exactly is she going with this?”. ‘I see more of them than anyone else in my life so I guess it’s not just the music. But you must understand that: you’ve got your own guys.’

I gave a throaty laugh. My voice is ridiculously husky for someone of my stature and I could see Kurt found the sound amusing. ‘Oh no, there’s no comparison, believe me. Jay only lets me in the band because I’m useful. I’m kinda like the junior member of a coalition government to be thrown over when the punters give him enough votes to go it alone.’

‘He’d be an idiot to get rid of the best thing in his band. Don’t get me wrong: he’s OK, but you, Angel, are very special.’

Flattery was making it really hard for me to keep on track with what I had to do here. ‘Oh gosh, thanks, Kurt, I’m really really pleased you think that—and proud and all messily emotional at the same time.’

‘It’s just the truth. Margot, do I ask her or you?’

Margot picked at her tomato and mozzarella salad. ‘Oh you, Kurt. I’m nobody.’

No, Margot Derkx, you might well be someone very important indeed.

Curiosity going bananas, I made a valiant attempt to stay on track. ‘Actually, I have something I’ve got to ask you.’

‘Let me go first, hey?’ Kurt put his hand over mine where it rested on the table. ‘Angel, what do you say to backing us tomorrow night?’

Mission dropped from my mind like engines jettisoned on rocket lift-off. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, you.’ Kurt grinned at Margot. ‘Wait for it. Hold on to your hat.’

I shot up to my feet. ‘Oh my … yes, yes, yes!’ No way could I not do my happy dance. Of course, everyone stared at me as if I’d lost my head—which I had. ‘Oh. My. God!’

‘I knew she’d do that. Pay up.’

Margot smiled and slapped a tenner in his hand. ‘Not fair, Kurt. I hadn’t met her when we made that bet.’

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t believe you asked me.’ Breathing hard, I made myself sit back down, reaching for professional and calm. Unfortunately, Professional and Calm had run away altogether, leaving me in the presence of their irresponsible substitutes, Over the Moon and Gushingly Eager. ‘What do you want me to do?’ It didn’t matter what the answer was. If he’d said ‘wear an Easter Bunny outfit’ I would have agreed.

‘The guys and I have been saying we’d like to add a violin to our new single. We were going to leave it until we got to the studio, but hearing you today, I thought we’d give it a trial run tomorrow. If it works, you can record it for us.’

This was not happening to me. ‘Have you written the piece already?’

‘I’ve been working on it with Marcus. Come by tomorrow morning and I’ll show you. You might have some suggestions. It has a folk feel to it, not classic rock.’

Just as well I’d brought Freddie along. I knew my instincts were good but this was way beyond anything I could have dreamed.

‘I’ll be there. A zombie invasion wouldn’t keep me away.’

Kurt grinned and leaned back in his chair and sipped his beer. ‘So, darlin’, what was it you wanted to ask me.’

I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t do it. Oh Lord, I’d promised everyone but if I now started spouting about savant gifts he would think I was completely crazy and take back his invitation to play with them tomorrow.

What could I do? ‘I … er … just wanted to say that some friends of mine would like to talk to you.’

Kurt’s expression dimmed. ‘I’m fine with a few autographs but I don’t really have time for a face to face. Ask them to come by after the show, hey?’

‘Oh, they’re not fans!’ No, no: had I just said that? Talk about putting my foot in it.

He looked puzzled but amused by my tactlessness. ‘Oh? Then why … ?’

‘They’re … um … security experts. They have some concerns they want to share with you.’ Oh flipping heck, this all sounded so lame. What was I, a seventeen-year-old wannabe, doing talking about such things? Even I didn’t believe me.

‘Darlin’, you feeling OK?’ asked Kurt.

‘Yes … no … damn: I’m digging a big hole here, aren’t I?’

Margot was looking worried, reassessing my ‘asset’ label and considering shifting me over to ‘liability’. ‘Try the truth, Angel.’

‘You need my friend Misty for that.’ Not only was I off course I was wandering in blithering circles. Bite the bullet, Angel. ‘Look, I’m so crap at explaining; I’ve got to let someone else do this. Margot, would you give my friends five minutes of your time? You see, there are these three Americans I’m camping with: one is a kind of bodyguard, another is a forensic expert and the third works for the FBI.’

Kurt was looking at me as if I’d just turned into a leprechaun and was performing an Irish jig before him.

‘Please, I’m not pulling your leg or gone mad. Neither is this some newspaper setup or anything like that.’ I gazed down at my uneaten slice of pizza. ‘And I’ve blown it. They shouldn’t have asked me to do this.’

‘Who asked you to do what?’ Kurt covered my hand again with his. ‘Angel, are you in trouble?’

‘No, but we think you might be. Please,’ I swallowed against the lump in my throat and scribbled on a serviette with my eyeliner, ‘please, just call this number, Margot. The guy on the other end is called Will Benedict.’

‘Will Benedict?’ Margot looked at the serviette like it was a dish of poison.

‘Yes. He’s a good guy—and not the least bit like me, I promise.’ I pushed the number over to her. I glanced up at Kurt through my eyelashes. ‘I know I sound crazy but do you still want me to play with you?’

Kurt rubbed his chin. ‘I guess so, but there’s something about you that doesn’t make any sense. You’re hiding something, aren’t you.’

And you haven’t even seen what I can do to your beer yet. ‘I’ll just … just go. If you change your mind about me playing, drop me a message at the yurt reception. I’ll leave you alone to let Margot make her call.’

I left them talking, heads close together. Life was not fair: I had just strangled at birth the most promising break I was ever likely to receive. I felt like jumping off the cliff at the end of the camping ground. Of course, thanks to my gift, I could make the sea receive me like a feather bed and then surf out of here, but the thought was very tempting. I found myself humming the refrain to ‘Crash and Burn’— yep: that was my signature tune all right.

‘What are you doing here stuck out on your own?’ Marcus had spotted me sitting in the shadows. ‘Margot flick you off?’

‘Go away if you’re not going to be nice to me,’ I said, not caring at the moment what I said to him. Twenty metres away Davis was talking earnestly to Brian and Matt—too close for me to risk telepathy on Marcus. Anyway, who was I kidding that he could be my soulfinder? I was such a fool, messing up the one thing I was here to do. Marcus was way above my pay grade.

Marcus sat down beside me on the Winnebago steps and offered me a slice of pizza from his plate. I shook my head.

‘Go on: you’ve not eaten anything.’

He’d been watching, had he? ‘I can’t.’

He put the plate aside. ‘You should be feeling on top of the world, Angel. That was a great show.’

It was strange to be sitting next to him without him trying to shoot me down with his let’s-despise-the-groupie barrage of words. I was so close, I could scent his aftershave—a faintly spicy smell. His hands, square and capable, rested on the knees of his jeans. You could imagine those hands building stonewalls as competently as he played the guitar. Three freckles sat in a triangle on the back of his right hand. I was tempted to trace the outline but kept my fingers laced together around my folded up legs.

Marcus was studying my profile. I could feel a little warmth from his breath on my cheek. ‘What made you dance around just now? I’ve never seen anyone go from ecstatic to depressed in such a short time.’

‘Kurt invited me to play the violin on the new single.’

‘I see. Yeah, we discussed that we thought that would work but I hadn’t realized he was going ahead so soon. The part’s only in early draft.’

I squeezed my elbows, wanting to curl up in a foetal ball. ‘You write music with him a lot?’

‘That’s how we met up. Margot introduced us when I—a complete unknown—sent in a song for the band to consider. It turned into “Crash and Burn”.’

‘I love that song!’ Then I did the maths. ‘Hey, but you must’ve been about five when you wrote it.’

‘Hardly.’ He smiled lopsidedly. ‘I was fifteen.’

‘You’re seventeen now, right?’

‘Uh-huh.’

I forced myself to make the fishing expedition. ‘So am I. My birthday’s in March. When’s yours?’

‘Same.’

Red flashing lights lit up in my brain. Here goes. ‘Have you ever heard of savants, Marcus?’

‘Savants? Are they a new band?’

Oh Lord, help me.

‘No, we are … we’re people with some extra gifts that set us apart. You’re one too.’ I flicked my gaze over to Davis. Surely he was too busy to notice me? I’d risk it.
We can use telepathy and
 … I held my hand over Marcus’s drink. I can do this. I made the Coke wiggle out of the can and flow neatly back into the hole.

Marcus had frozen on the step.

You can hear me, can’t you?
Unless he responded telepathically, I couldn’t be sure if he was my soulfinder. No matter the suspicions beforehand, soulfinders only know each other when they speak mind to mind.
Please, tell me you can
.

Over at the tables, Davis slipped a phone-size device out of his pocket and started quartering the area with his gaze. Oh, this was not good—not good at all.

Marcus rubbed his temples. ‘Are you some kind of … illusionist?’

I shook my head. Don’t look this way, Davis.

‘I’ve got to be imagining things. Did you slip something in my drink?’

‘No, Marcus. You’re a savant like me—and I think you might be my soulfinder.’

He was edging away from me now. ‘Your what?’

‘My … ’ There was no subtle way of saying this. ‘My other half. We may be destined to be together.’

‘Oh no: you’re mad, aren’t you? I thought you were just a desperate fangirl but now I get it. OK, Angel, just take some deep breaths.’ He knelt before me, taking my hands in his. ‘Are you on medication? Have you forgotten to take it? Is there someone I could call?’

I began to laugh hysterically, probably confirming his diagnosis. He was being so sweet but so wrong.

‘I think I’d better get you a doctor. Stay here.’ He would have got up but I kept hold of his hands. Screw Davis: I had to get Marcus to connect with me.

You can hear me—I know you can. You have a gift, Marcus. That thing you do with music—it’s not normal. You are using psychic energy. It spreads to me too when I’m playing and you’re there.

‘Stop it,’ he hissed, snatching his hands away and falling back on his butt. ‘Get away from me.’

I can’t. Just answer me. Please, I’m begging you.

His answer was to spring up and run into his Winnebago, slamming the door behind him. Crash and burn. When I looked up, I found Davis standing in front of me.

‘Hello, little savant.’ He waggled the device so I could see the dial. ‘Care to do that again?’

‘So, Miss … ’ Davis read my name off my security pass as he tucked his detector in his back pocket, ‘Angel Campbell, how about giving us an interview?’ Snake-strike quick, his hand whipped out and grabbed my wrist.

‘I don’t give interviews.’ I tried to twist free but his grip was painfully tight.

Pulling me to my feet, he snatched my phone from my lap. ‘I’ll be taking that. By all means, do shout out with your telepathy: I’d just love to see your friends running to help you. That’d be damn good proof that you communicated with them as I’ve got your cell phone.’

‘Let go of me!’ Davis dwarfed me, being broad in the shoulders and a good deal taller. The way we were angled, I doubted anyone could see me struggle. Fear dug its claws in my gut. ‘I’ll get you thrown out for this!’

‘Yeah, right. Like you want to attract attention to yourself with these people. You don’t know them very well, do you? You see we’ve been watching them for a while now and we don’t think they know what they are. Am I right?’