Chapter Fourteen
Sometimes it felt like music was the only thing separating Remi from the world. And sometimes it felt like music was the only thing binding him to it.
Like everyone was asleep, living life within a fishbowl that distorted what was real. But when Remi made music, it lifted the fishbowl from his head. The distortions were gone; the muffled sounds of truth were made clear. He was finally in the world, fully embodied.
It’d been isolating at first, because it felt like he was the only one who could see, hear, feel the truth. But then he introduced West to the alternate reality, and they made music together. Then Liam and Ollie joined, and together, Tilted Haze lifted the veil for everyone in the crowd.
Their music resonated through the venue and created a vibration that cracked the glass of their collective fishbowl.
He put on a show, sure. He sang and danced and thrust his hips. He joked and flirted with the crowd to make clear how much he loved them. He loved them, and they loved him, and together, they created a space in those stadiums where anything felt possible. It was better than any drug.
After coming off stage, Remi and the rest of the band were riding a high that they were jonesing to keep going.
Anything to avoid the inevitable crash. The sick, depressive chokehold that would climb up his throat.
It was worse than running out of coke. The way his body was still jittery, while the rest of the world was still.
The way his mind bounced around, desperate to escape the fishbowl that was rebuilding itself.
Everything softened and everything hurt. Everything seemed pointless.
Yeah, Remi needed to avoid that feeling tonight.
He didn’t want to replay the moment on stage when he’d looked back and saw Skye—really saw her—and felt like she was there with him, like she’d been recruited into the fishbowl-cracking, reality-shifting atmosphere that he and his band created.
He didn’t want her there—and simultaneously, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her leave.
But really, he just didn’t want to be sober enough to sort through those feelings.
So he accepted the towel a roadie handed him to wipe the sweat off his face and scanned the backstage area, searching for someone who looked like they had a substance that would offer a little reality-shifting good time, but his gaze snagged on Skye in the back corner.
Her arms were flying around like she was reprimanding someone, and when he focused on her, he could just make out the tone of her voice, the anger and incredulity in it.
Remi marched over. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he’d scold her for yelling at his crew. Maybe he’d just stand and watch if she was yelling at the venue owner. Maybe he just couldn’t stop from inserting himself into her life.
Nah, not that last one.
Remi crossed his arms over his chest as he stood behind Skye’s shoulder.
She was talking to a tall, thin man with long white-silvery hair.
He was smirking down at Skye in a way that made Remi feel like aluminum foil was crinkling and cutting into his insides.
As Remi settled behind Skye, glaring at the man, the intruder’s eyes snapped to him.
His smirk grew, and Remi curled his lip in distaste. A warning signal flared in the back of his head. Danger dripped from the man’s impossibly pale, almost translucent skin.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Remi snarled.
Skye jolted like Remi had startled her, which was odd since Skye seemed to be preternaturally aware of everyone and everything around them; he assumed it had something to do with her demon powers. She heaved an exhausted sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “He’s no one. Do you need something, Remi?”
“No,” Remi said but made no move to leave.
The man’s posture was grating on his nerves. The proprietary way he leaned toward Skye. It made Remi puff his chest out and step closer to Skye’s back.
The man leaned toward him and widened his eyes slightly, his pupils dilated, red irises flashed, and he said in a low, hypnotizing voice, “Go away.”
Skye made an outraged noise and grabbed the guy’s white linen shirt. “Laurie! Don’t compel him—”
Remi mirrored the fucker’s posture, mocking the douchebag in the same tone as he said, “Are you trying to intimidate me, demon? Because it’s not working.”
Laurie was all sharp lines: a pointed nose, high cheekbones, piercing silver eyes to go along with his stick-straight long silver hair.
He was annoyingly hot. Sparklers lit up, popping in Remi’s veins.
He became aware of the curve of Skye’s ass as he pressed closer to her, and of the way he might not have minded being a body stuck between these two evil demons.
But it was just their stupid demon pheromones. It wasn’t real.
Laurie tilted his head, and a curious expression replaced his disdain, his smirk reappearing. His eyes brightened as he reached some conclusion.
Remi wanted to punch it off his stupid face.
“So that’s why you’re fascinated by this one,” Laurie said. “Compulsion doesn’t work on him.”
Remi poked his tongue into the side of his lip and played with his lip ring. “Compulsion?” Remi’s hands slid along both sides of Skye’s waist and squeezed. “You’ve been compelling me?”
Relief overwhelmed any anger over the twisting of his free will. She was fucking with his head.
“I’ve never compelled you!” she said, exasperated.
And just like that, it was gone again.
“She hasn’t,” the asshole, Laurie, said. “Compulsion doesn’t work on non-humans.”
Remi wrinkled his nose in confusion.
Skye’s jaw dropped. “He’s not human? How do you know?”
“Darling,” Laurie said. “You should have come to me to begin with instead of playing hide and seek. Although”—he trailed his eyes down the length of Remi, assessing him like he was a piece of meat—“I would have been possessive over this toy too.”
Remi stepped forward, putting himself between Skye and Laurie. “I don’t know what you want, but you need to leave. Skye obviously doesn’t want you here.”
“Remi, don’t—” Skye started.
“So protective,” Laurie mocked. “What exactly are you going to do?” He grabbed the edges of Remi’s jacket and pulled him in. “I’m eager to see.”
Flames sparked alive along Laurie’s skin as his irises turned red.
“Laurie, stop! Knock it off!” Skye said and shoved him away from Remi, but it was too late. Flames jumped onto Remi’s jacket. He yanked it off and threw it on the ground, stamping them out.
Skye put her hands to her temples. “Both of you put your dicks away unless you’re going to fuck each other because I have no interest in watching a pissing contest. Remi, there’s a VIP group waiting for a meet-and-greet in the back room.”
Remi picked up his jacket from the ground. He really didn’t want to turn his back on this guy, and for some reason, he didn’t want to leave Skye with him either.
“Bye, pretty boy,” Laurie said, waving his fingers. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again very soon.”
Skye grabbed Laurie by the arm and dragged him down the hall. She didn’t look back at him, but Laurie did. He smiled with all of his teeth, predatory. Remi took one step toward them—he wasn’t letting Skye alone with this fucker—but flames encased them both, and they disappeared.
Remi sighed and flung out his jacket, inspecting the damage. Fucking asshole. This was his favorite leather jacket, and now it had scorch marks.
He did his best to be charismatic and charming for the VIPs during the meet-and-greet but was a little distracted. He wanted to find Skye and get her to explain who the hell Laurie was and what he meant about Remi not being human.
It could be more demon mind games. Maybe Skye had just recruited someone else to get Remi all worked up.
Well…if that was the case, it was going as planned.
Remi really, really didn’t like Laurie. He didn’t like Zara either. The cruel, gorgeous demoness, who had been with Skye when the band came down with their mysterious illness. Remi later came to the conclusion Zara had something to do with it.
But he disliked Laurie even more. He didn’t want to analyze why.
It was just a vibe. It had nothing to do with how Skye seemed upset that the demon was around.
Remi should have been rejoicing that there was someone else making her miserable when he was too busy to do it, but he just felt a slithering, slimy feeling under his skin instead.
After the meet-and-greet wrapped up, Liam and Ollie decided to go to a bar with a few of the women, and West said he was going to lock himself in the back bedroom to get some rest cause his ears were ringing. Remi quickly showered at the venue and waited on the bus for Skye to return.
The driver wasn’t there, and West would most likely have earplugs in, trying to sleep, so Remi was all alone, sitting at the dining room table.
He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer.
Unable to find the bottle opener, he slammed the edge of the bottle cap on the counter.
The cap went flying, but stopped mid-air.
Laurie’s form appeared, outlined in a flame, the cap pinched between his fingers. He tilted his head, grinning a weaselly smile.
“What do you want?” Remi bit out. “Where’s Skye?”
Laurie shrugged one shoulder. “She got a phone call and said she had to strangle a promoter for trying to stiff her band. Sifted away.” His eyebrows rose as he tsked. “She’s quite possessive of you and your bandmates. It’s very intriguing.”
“Oh, yeah?” Remi said, taking a sip from his beer. He leaned against the counter, acting like he couldn’t care less what the demon had to say, but every hair on the back of his neck was standing up. Anxious. Cautious.