Slow Burn (23 page)

No. He had to think positively here. This wasn’t a dangerous
op with a third world dictator trying to buy nukes and use them against his
enemies, this was a simple thing.

The plan Max had come up with relied on simplicity. A rival
gang in the Jacksonville area owed him a favor from a different operation. He’d
shared the details with Derrick and basically set things up so that if
Carmela’s plan came to fruition, she’d die along with her growing army of
shifter haters, including the guards and politicians who supported her.

Driving down the highway in silence gave Derrick time to
think and let the events of the past few days sink fully into his head.

Yeah, he’d just met her. He loved her.

He didn’t use women. He’d had a few affairs and knew his way
around a woman’s body but Sonja captured his full attention. He didn’t joke
when he said she didn’t have to be in love with him but now he knew better.
Derrick yearned for her love.

First things first: get her out and the band safe;
then
deal with the relationship, bonding, and pregnancy.

Max pulled into a clearing behind the warehouse where fans
eagerly awaited the band. When they got out of the car, the smell of so many
shifters clouded the air along with alcohol and other undesirable toxins.

Derrick loaded an ammo clip into the chamber of his .45,
then slid two more clips in his pocket. “There must be a few thousand here.”

Max looked around. “Yeah. I’m going backstage, see what’s
going on.” He snapped his Bluetooth into place. “Talk to me through the ear
pieces like we used to do. Keep me abreast of everything while I make my way
into position.”

“Right. Then I’m going for their leader. It won’t take more
than a little creative negotiation, right?”

Max nodded. “Do what you’re good at, brother.”

Derrick set his earpiece in place and checked the safety on
his gun. “I will. Be careful.”

Fifteen minutes later the band’s sound check grew louder but
didn’t drown out the various conversations going on amongst the rowdy and
fairly angry crowd outside.

Derrick snaked his way through the crowd, snuck in through a
bathroom window, scraping his neck on the way, but couldn’t be bothered to stop
and look at the wound. It’d heal quickly anyway with his shifting abilities.
Thanks to the overwhelming smell of booze, pot, and sweat, his scent would be
masked, making him harder to detect by any of Carmela’s security.

With his gun at his side, he made sure to keep loose, relax
his body, and move with the angry crowd while not alerting them to the fact
that he was packing heat. Derrick spotted an opening toward the stage, hoped to
move through it. He waited, listened, and let the sound of the instruments
guide him.

Sadly, he picked up nothing but sound check. The band would
be warming up and dealing with the nonsense of working with Carmela’s crew—who
probably had experience—but Derrick realized what it took to put on a show: a
tight family that knew the ins and outs of each instrument and what each
performer preferred. Only one question lingered in his mind.

How was Sonja doing?

Chapter Twelve

She swallowed her nervousness. Something didn’t feel right,
not just with this gig but with her body. Aggression filled the air,
surrounding everyone in a huge cloud that made Sonja antsy. Corey and Jacob had
set up and were ready to go but had stalled long enough to keep the trained
guards off their ass.

“Look, Carmela wants the show to start now.” One of the
gruff men shoved a gun barrel into Dez’s back.

When Dez stood to his full height and stared back at him,
the guard backed off. “You can do this how you want or we can do this how we
were told, which is the right way. You make the call, and when your boss comes
to kick your ass and shoot me, I guarantee she’ll shoot you first.”

The guard nodded and scurried off.

Dez sighed. “If I could have killed him, I would have.”

“Brutally.” Jacob rubbed his chin.

Sonja straightened her posture. “I don’t think my voice is
up to this, guys. I have no idea how…” Her voice trailed off. Something
familiar filled her nostrils, the scent of blood she instantly recognized.
“Shit.”

“He’s here.” Raj spoke the only words he’d said in two
hours.

Before the show, all of them slept as best they could, but
the kinks in Sonja’s neck were getting to her. The dreams she’d had were filled
with wild pumas that all faded away until only one remained.

Derrick. He’d come to seduce her and carry her away to a
place where they could be free of this nonsense and she could still play with
her band.

But those weren’t the thoughts that kept her awake.

The tension in her body buzzed with a newfound eroticism
that made her pussy ache and nipples throb.

And she had been in a cell with her band mates and could do
nothing about it. Dammit all!

But one thing remained certain. She and Derrick shared an
unbreakable bond. She accepted that. She had no choice. He’d been good to her,
supportive and even pushy when she needed him to be.

After he stirred up her hormones in the dream, he left.

Then the big cat returned. It merely stood before her with
glowing green-and-yellow eyes as though it guarded something.

Derrick sat just beyond reach.

She had to have him.

Had to protect him.

Then she awoke screaming only to have Dez and Raj calm her
down with chants.

Then they’d been dragged to Jacksonville, where one of the
larger metal scenes was. Since so many shifters lived in this part of the
state, it made sense. Her ability to go through with ending five thousand lives
hit her in the pit of her stomach with a nauseating sensation, knocking her off
balance.

She swallowed hard. “Fuck. If he’s here, he’ll die, too.”
She wanted to sob.

“Trust in the puma. He’s here for a reason. Now, the guards
are getting impatient.” Dez jerked a thumb to the side door where two men with
large guns stood.

“Fuck.” She motioned to the guards. “Kill the lights on the
stage. We’ll be out in two minutes.”

Corey and Jacob left. Raj followed, leaving Dez and Sonja.
Dez pinned her with a knowing glance. “Do this just like we talked about. Slow,
melodic. Give them time to feel the songs; hopefully, you’ll be able to build
up enough momentum while the puma does his thing.”

Derrick’s presence offered her a little comfort. Where was
he? She gritted her teeth in frustration. Her voice would harm him if he showed
up.

Shit.
She’d kill her lover, too. “How can you be so
sure it’s Derrick? And how can you be certain that I won’t kill him either?”
Her rational mind knew he was here, yet she prayed he’d stay away because of
the ensuing bloodbath.

“Because I saw the large cat in my dream and he spoke to me.
I didn’t understand it, but I heard the words. Signs of faith are all we can
have as humans, witches or not.” For the first time, he smiled.

Her heart warmed slightly at his gesture. “Okay.” She
nodded. “Let’s go.”

Dez motioned with one hand and headed out of the small room.
He took his guitar from the guard and pushed past him, shoving the guard in the
chest hard enough to knock him down. The guard started after him, reaching for
something in his pocket, but once Dez turned around, the guard stopped and
dropped his baton.

The man stumbled into the doorframe but did nothing else. He
couldn’t. Smart men didn’t fuck with Dez.

Sonja closed her eyes, wished for a different way out of
this. How could she lead the crowd into a darker place than many of them
already were in? Death metal music partially belonged to the hopeless, the
downtrodden, and the underprivileged. At least that’s how she felt about their
music. It could give light in the darkness. That hope just came in the sweet
salvation of death, a final rest from torment and suffering of the soul.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, picked up the trench
coat, and slid it over her shoulders. It dragged the ground slightly with each
step she took, but her mate’s coat gave her courage.

She wanted to sob at her admission of love for him.

She couldn’t get her mind off the fact that if Derrick was
here, he’d die and she’d be responsible.

Goddammit.

The guards pointed to the stage. “You’re on. I wouldn’t want
to be a shifter right now.” The asshole laughed.

She glared at him and ran a hand through her raven-dark
hair. “I will include you, too, in the massacre.”

He sneered at her. “Get on stage, bitch.”

She balled her hands into fists and held back a retort.
Stalking toward the stage, she let her anger at the guard fuel her efforts to
find a way to thwart Carmela.

She joined Dez, Corey, Jacob, and Raj onstage and sighed.
Low lighting didn’t prevent Sonja from seeing thousands of eyes staring back at
the stage, at her. Waiting, dying down, wanting to do something with the
frenzied energy stored inside them, they grew irritated at the slowness of things.
If they could understand the perilous situation they were all in, they’d
sympathize. When was the last time they were told they would die?

The opening chords strummed, sending eerie tones into the
open air.

The crowd started to cheer.

Sonja let the music start to take hold of her as Raj and
Corey created an aura of despair with their instruments.

Then Jacob’s drums kicked in.

The heaviness of her action settled around her. Through use
of her magic, she saw blackness surrounding each person in the audience.

Sounds kicked in heavier, louder, harder, the brutality of
the music mixing with the beauty of rhythm added from slowing down the normally
fast tune.

The blackness around each person grew. They were waiting for
something to direct, to dissipate, to remove their emotional energy.

Sonja had to make this easy for them. She had to get lost in
the music and figure this out at the same time. She let her head drop, hair
falling to the sides of her face to block out everything except what lay before
her. She scanned the audience, searching for Derrick so she could send him some
sign to leave her to her fate, but she couldn’t find him. Even their bond
couldn’t help her right now, not with all the extra energy moving about the
air. It’d be like finding a needle in a haystack.

The very large audience before her cheered and pumped their
fists, shouting the band’s name.

Then she swore she saw an image of a puma above the thick
blackness.

She blinked. “What the hell?”

She reached for the mic. She could scream the intro lyrics,
breaking up the anger so she could reform it.

Her mouth opened.

The crowd hung on pins and needles, waiting for her to start
singing one of their favorite songs.

Jacob picked up the pace with the kick drums, working the
blast beats slowly.

Dez and Raj couldn’t play at the speed required, producing
an awkward dissonance.

She couldn’t look back yet, she had to have faith that
they’d fall in sync.

Jacob couldn’t keep pace without faltering.

Corey stood beside her and mouthed. “Fuck it, play the song
normally.”

She sighed. That would mean a very harsh jolt to the energy
forming in the crowd. So be it.

“Go for it.” Her shoulders slumped. She inhaled a deep
breath, closed her eyes, leaned forward, and thrashed her head in tune with
quickening blast beats. Then she screamed, lost in the lyrics she’d written
about an insane clown who kills those wishing for death only to realize the
clown had killed himself several times over.

The crowd closed in around Derrick, forcing him back to the
entrance by the mock security Carmela must have hired. They were shifters, too,
goddammit. Did that bitch stop at nothing to prove a point?

He finally managed to make his way to the side of the large
crowd, fending off the occasional drunk human. He spotted Sonja from the back
of the warehouse.

Her beauty stalled even the most hardened fan. They were
playing the songs slower that he remembered them, but something sounded off.

Then the timing picked up. Surrounded by a ton of bodies,
Derrick made his way closer to the front of the stage where he could help
direct Sonja’s attention and focus. She couldn’t spot him, probably couldn’t
feel him with all the extra bodies in the room. An explanation of just how
strong the bond was would have been helpful but there’d been no time to
research it, not with her life and the lives of everyone around him in
jeopardy.

Max had signaled a success after removing the threat to the
band by eliminating the guards. Honey Badger One had been very persuasive. Now
Derrick just had to warn her not to go through with Carmela’s plan.

Except that once she screamed into the microphone, the crowd
erupted into a large circle pit and bodies slammed into him, jostling him
around. He kept a hand on his gun, made sure to flip the safety on while moving
through the crowd.

Thunderous bass notes blasted the air along with the double
bass drum and frantic guitar work.

Fists bumped into chests, shoulders into heads, and a few
knees landed against Derrick’s back. His shifter abilities weren’t helping him
here, not when other shifters surrounded him.

Derrick struggled to get his footing; random hands helped
him regain his balance. He looked back to find a few smiling faces, wild hair
thrashing and a thumbs up. He returned the gesture and continued pushing
through the sea of bodies bouncing around, moving in time with the music.

“Fuck!” The crowd shifted tempo around him, creating a wall
of solid bodies that made it nearly impossible for him to get through.

If someone discovered the gun at his back, he’d be in trouble.

If that thing went off, a riot would ensue.

Knocked around by a bear shifter and his cub, Derrick landed
against the rowdy crowd and bounced back up.

The one good thing about Ark-KaotiK’s fans was that they
were an overly friendly bunch, if one could use that term to describe the
frenzy of a mosh pit.

Derrick brushed sweat and hair out of his face and moved
forward with force. He spotted Sonja. She remained a mere hundred feet from
him.

She screamed louder, rattling off lyrics at machinegun pace
in true beast style. If he had just come to enjoy the show, he’d be proud of
her purely musical abilities.

He had to wonder for a brief second if their child would
inherit Sonja’s powers.

Derrick glanced up while making his way forward through the
crowd. Energy crackled above them. Only Derrick seemed to notice. “Son of a
bitch, what is she doing?”

He had to have faith in her, had to trust his mate to do the
right thing. But she didn’t know they were no longer in danger! Derrick made
one last push through the pit only to stumble into a wall of black bear
shifters who didn’t move. They weren’t stage crew either. They were merely the
ones at shows who weren’t to be fucked with. Must have been hired help from
Max’s end. Good to have them here. But not so good if she gave the command to
die.

The music slowed.

The pit behind him dissipated.

He saw his chance! Derrick moved around the bears through
the crowd of people, careful to keep a hold of his gun.

He broke through the second mosh pit closest to the stage
thanks to a change in speed of their songs. Not being as familiar with this
band as he should, he hoped he’d have enough time to somehow signal Sonja.

If he could get up on stage, that’d distract her long enough
to make her stop singing, right? Getting through security would be a bitch, now
that he saw the real event staff replaced by Carmela’s people.

Screams from Sonja continued to guide him, blocking out the
noisome shouts of concertgoers. Derrick shoved his way past a smaller group
huddled together. When he emerged from the crowd, he stood now off to the side.

So far so good. Sonja pranced on stage, standing to his
right, drawing the crowd to her presence with impressive charisma. Goddess, she
worked the stage beautifully. She was meant for it, definitely.

It made him sad that he was the one taking it from her with
their child. “Fuck.” He shook his head. “One thing at a time. Save the lives of
these people and ease her into a normal show. Then spring the news on her.”
Right. Order.

He’d have to navigate the throng of bodies once again to get
to her. He touched the Bluetooth device in his ear. “Max, replacing security?”

“Copy that. Bringing in legit sources now. Do your thing and
get her off stage. We’ll only have a moment’s time between switching out
Carmela’s security with ours, and if you rush the stage, I imagine it won’t be
pretty.”

“No shit.” Derrick looked around; saw a few new faces far
off. Guys in yellow security-staff shirts were armed for situations like this.
“Do they know the score?”

“Only what they need to know. Now get up there!”