Rock 'n' Roll is Undead (Veronica Mason (24 page)

The psychic hadn’t offered any new information, really. Her details only managed to unsettle me more. As if I needed more unsettling news. The most disturbing was the man in black; he could have been the dark figure from my visions. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see his features, only a black blob. But he obviously hadn’t worn a mask when he drove Janey to the old farmhouse. Why had she gotten into the car with him? Had it been voluntary? Maybe he’d kidnapped her. But from my vision, it seemed as if she’d known him. Not really comfortable with him, but not scared either. What did the psychic mean when she called him the music man? I should have asked her, but I was so taken aback by the whole situation, the best thing seemed to be to get out of there. Why had I seen the same message?

Her words rang in my mind. “You are in danger.” Yeah, well, I hadn’t needed a psychic to tell me that. The strange car and my visions told me as much. A couple chatted as they strolled past, down the sidewalk. I curved around the couple and had almost made it to my car when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone dash behind the building across the road. Call it instinct, but I had a weird hunch the person had been watching me. Was it the deranged killer? I quivered at the thought. What the hell was this person doing, anyway? Based on the height and style of clothing, I guessed the person to be male, even though I’d gotten only a brief glimpse. Maybe my eyes had deceived me, though, because now no one was in sight. But what if it was the murderous lunatic following my every move?

I ducked behind a streetlight, ignoring the strange looks from passersby. Okay, not exactly a great hiding spot, but maybe it would protect me from bullets in case of gunfire. My defense-mode kicked in and I wasn’t going down without a fight. I made a mental note to take up karate if I made it out of this incident alive. A young woman carrying bags with one hand and holding onto the leash of a rottweiler with the other hurried by and eyed me suspiciously. Hadn’t she ever seen anyone hide from a stalker before? Attacker, stalker, murderer, whatever you wanted to call the ass-hat who had set his sights on me, scouted out people like me—an easy target. I’d been warned, but did I listen? No.

Breaking away from my cover, I ran for my car, stumbling over the curb. I righted myself and hurried forward, silently cursing the lunatic on the loose. In a daze, I used my car as a prop and scrambled for the door. With shaking limbs, I hurried into the driver seat and slammed the door shut. My gaze stayed on the building across the street as I fumbled with the keys. With my hands shaking, I finally thrust the key into the ignition, then dug the pepper spray from my bag. Wandering around town by myself was a mistake and I was learning the hard way.

Shadows lurked behind every corner. Maybe I was paranoid, but was the murderer watching me? I sat like a fly caught in a spider-web, envisioning the killer hiding behind a building, like a sharp-shooting sniper, waiting for the perfect time to pounce with his weapon of choice. He probably had an entire arsenal with him.

Before I had a chance to contemplate the weapons, a loud boom rang out. The streetlight blew and my car was now in complete darkness. The pounding of footsteps on the pavement reverberated through the hot night air as they approached my car.

I looked to my left. The tall figure stood next to my door. “Holy mother…” I jumped, hitting my arm on the steering wheel.

All I saw was a black blob. I thrust my arm to the left, aiming out the open window and pushed on the toxic gas as hard as my finger allowed.

Chapter 45

My scream echoed through the night air, a sound loud enough to land me the lead role in any cheesy horror flick. With any luck, the mist would cover my perpetrator’s face and I’d escape. Could pepper spray cause permanent eye damage? Whatever. The bastard deserved it for trying to attack me. Only problem: nothing came out. I’d just attempted to ward off an attacker with a tube of ruby red lipstick. Again with the lipstick.

“May I ask what you’re trying to do to me with that lipstick?” Buzz asked.

Uh oh. “It was supposed to be pepper spray.” I climbed out from behind the wheel.

“Lucky for me you’re a bad aim.”

“Funny. I thought you were attacking me. What did you expect coming up to me in the dark like that?”

“If I had been an attacker, you’d be in serious trouble right now.”

“I know that. How can I concentrate when someone is trying to kill me?” I leaned against the car.

“I think you need a self-defense course.” He stood next to me.

“Are you following me?” I asked.

“No, I’m not following you. I’m not a lunatic.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“I’m going to the club.” He pointed down the street toward the flashing neon sign for Ruby’s Blues Club.

My cheeks reddened. “Sure, right, sorry.”

It did seem odd that he was everywhere I went.

“Are you going inside?” I asked.

“I thought I might for a minute.”

“Spying on the competition?”

“I guess you could say that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Would you care to join me?”

My head said no, that I should go home, but my body screamed yes, yes, yes.

We walked side by side the short distance to the club. My heels clicked on the sidewalk, echoing through the night. My stomach fluttered and I thought of speaking several times, but didn’t know exactly what to say. Music seeped out from behind the brick walls and the neon sign lit up the entrance. Buzz held the door open and I walked through. I wasn’t sure what I was doing there. One minute we were sharing a kiss on my doorstep, and now I was in a dark club with him, a place where couples pressed their bodies close to each other and swayed to the rhythmic sound. Visions of my body pressed against Buzz’s filled my mind.

The muscular man at the door pulled out a rubber stamp and pressed the club’s fanged logo onto our hands, then allowed us through. A trio of men owned the stage. They had the audience by their balls, as Frank would have so delicately phrased it. The music thumped and bounced off the walls, perfect for swing dancing. At first glance, the guys on stage looked like nice boys, but the fact that they were drinking blood, and singing about hot rods and hot babes, would change a human’s mind quickly.

If the club had air conditioning, it wasn’t working well, because steamy bodies swayed with the sound across the worn, wooden floor. The place was wall-to-wall rockabilly bobs and babes with their tattoos and slicked hair. We all shared one thing in common, regardless of our paranormal status; we loved rockabilly—a mixture of rock ‘n’ roll, country and rhythm and blues.

Along the side of the room, a long bar lined the right wall and a couple of pool tables sat to the left. Dim lights shone from behind the bar, highlighting bottle after bottle of liquor. The room opened onto a dance floor filled with people swaying to the swinging music. A few people sat at small tables, drinking blood, but most bodies covered the dance floor. The coppery scent of blood tainted the air. With that much blood in the glasses around, how could it not?

It wasn’t clear if the band members were human, attempting a vampire appearance, or vampires trying to blend in with humans. The bass player pounded out the chords, but he had nothing on Buzz.

The lead singer wore all black and held the microphone close to his mouth, singing the lyrics: “She said nice threads, Daddy-O, and my heart began a thumpin’.”

Yes, they were the competition, but since they were an all-male band, I didn’t feel too threatened. They were good, but they didn’t have Buzz.

Smoke wafted from a few tables in the corner. Young women with pale skin and bright red lips sat around the tables. Lookin’ for the thrill of the vampire lifestyle, I guess, but it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be if you asked me.

Buzz pointed to a small table in the corner. “Want to sit there?”

In spite of the noise, the spot looked cozy. I swallowed hard. “Sure,” I said. Although by the sound of the squeak in my voice, I wasn’t so confident in my answer.

Buzz pulled out a chair and I sat. “Thanks,” I yelled over the music.

Buzz leaned close. His breath made my whole body tingle. His rich scent circled around me, intoxicating me more than the bottles behind the bar ever could. “Would you like a drink?” he asked. His words seemed to caress my skin. I closed my eyes, trying to get a grip on myself and attempting to avoid inhaling. Being close to Buzz made me feel like I’d downed several shots of tequila.

He leaned closer, if that was even possible, waiting for my answer. I didn’t move away. No, instead my mind was cluttered with thoughts of kissing his delectable lips. It was as if the earth’s gravitational pull was drawing me to him. Luckily, somehow my thought function returned…somewhat. I mentally pinched myself.

Drinking would not help this situation. At all. “No, thanks, I’m good.”

We watched the crowd. The noise level made having a conversation difficult. That probably wasn’t a bad thing in this situation. Was he thinking of the kiss? Or did he kiss women like that all the time? It was probably no big deal to him. I made an effort not to look at Buzz, but I felt his gaze on me.

“Would you like to dance?” His sexy southern drawl wrapped around the words.

Oh, hell’s bells. I was in real trouble now. Feeling his touch would be amazing, and while my mind told me not to get involved with another band member, my body figured what harm could one little dance do.

“Sure, I’d love to.” The words slipped out as if spoken by someone else.

Buzz stood, pulling my chair out for me, then placing his hand on the small of my back as he led me toward the dance floor. The music swirled and so did the skirts around us as guys twirled the ladies across the floor. It was a fast song, so there wouldn’t be a lot of touching. No harm, no foul. One dance? I could handle that. Maybe. Kind of handle?

Across from me stood this gorgeous man, waiting to dance with me, and just then I made a decision—enjoy the moment. Let my guard down for a brief time, erase negative thoughts and worry from my mind. Go with the flow.

Buzz smiled and took my hand. We moved to the music, back and forth, hips shaking and feet stepping in time. Each movement he made flowed with my body. Buzz was a great dancer. And, well you know what they say about men who can dance…. No, I had to push the bedroom thoughts out of my head. Enjoy the moment, but I didn’t need to enjoy it that much.

The music stopped and, I had to admit, disappointment washed over me. A half of one dance was not enough. But before I had time to utter a word, the music started again.

Huge problem though: a slow song cascaded from the speakers. Not good. Not good at all.

Buzz looked at me expectantly and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

His smile made my heart melt. How could I say no? Just one little slow dance, that was it, no biggie.

My breath hitched as he wrapped his arms around me. Buzz placed one hand on my hip and the heat radiated through the fabric of my skirt. With my chest pressed tight against his, I couldn’t distinguish between his heartbeat, mine, and the beat of the music.

My head rested against his muscular chest as we swayed back and forth. Each step he made displayed his confidence on the dance floor. He held me in a tight embrace. My stomach danced as if a fast song played and my heart thumped wildly, making breathing difficult. The room spun, but not because of the dancing. Buzz placed a hand under my chin and raised my face up in his direction. He traced my cheek with his finger, then my lips, all the while gazing into my eyes. His finger felt like fire. An electric feeling zinged between us that I’d never, in all my life, experienced. In that moment, I wanted to know what his hands would feel like caressing every inch of my body. We moved in sync with the song. No words were spoken. Our bodies did all the talking.

As I met his gaze, he felt the exhilaration between us, I knew he did. What would I do now? His body wrapped around mine felt wonderful—hard and safe. Nothing could harm me in Buzz’s arms. At least that’s what I thought. But, oh how wrong could I have been?

Chapter 46

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Buzz said in my ear.

“What? Why?” I scrunched my brow.

“The guy.” He tilted his head in the general direction of half the bar. Not exactly narrowing it down much in the sea of bodies. “He’s here. The one from the diner.”

He grabbed my hand like a little rag doll again.

“The one you wouldn’t tell me why you’re avoiding? You know, this is just too weird, I—”

He tugged on my arm and pulled me through the crowd. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your car.”

Talk about mixed signals. Buzz had me bemused. My head spun as if I were on an amusement park ride. We weaved through the sea of bodies. He pulled me through the crowd as I tried to look over my shoulder for the mystery man.

We made our way out from inside the club and into the warm night air. Buzz still held my hand. I pulled away, forcing him to release his grip.

“I can handle myself from here, thanks.” I increased my stride and he hurried his steps to catch up.

“Sorry about that,” he offered.

I waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t ask whom this person is you’re hiding from because, frankly, I don’t care. I should go home.”

Luckily, I hadn’t parked far. I unlocked my door and slipped behind the wheel.

Buzz stood beside my Bel-Air. “Let me explain.”

“Never mind. It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll see you.”

I cranked the engine to life. As I backed out, I didn’t look at Buzz. I should have known not to let my guard down. No more feelings for band members.

Whatever Buzz was into, I didn’t want any part of it. I had enough to handle without adding to my problems. One kiss was all it was and that was all it would be. I’d tell Buzz we had nothing but a professional relationship.

Right now, I needed to make it home safely and forget about the events of the last twenty-four hours. Perhaps my little sleuthing activity hadn’t been such a great idea, after all. Tomorrow I could think clearer, after I had some sleep. I needed rest with no dreams, no chasing, no blood, no murder, and no Buzz.