True Loves (A Collection of Firsts) (72 page)

W
hen Rick dropped
me off that night, he said to act normally and not to draw attention to myself, because I had to live my life without people noticing any changes about me. Maybe it’s a good thing people think I’m crazy. Crazy people tend to do weird things, like trying to adjust to their new demon body and powers. 

Rick says we don’t have to answer the call of all the dying people we hear in our minds, but it does sit well with “The Boss” to be a good little soldier—like I’ve ever been good at that. An eternity is a long time to do the same job.

I instantly wonder about Stew, and how he’s doing after everything. Without thinking, I head around back. The round moon shines proudly, lighting up my back yard like a spotlight, allowing me to see Stew lying out in his hammock across the fence—the place I first saw him at the beginning of summer. 

When he sees me trudging up my back porch steps, he rises up and gives me a little wave.    

I smile and I wave back. That must be enough to invite him over, because his feet swing out, and he starts toward me.

“Hey,” Stew says. 

I give him a fleeting smile. “Hi.”

He runs his fingers through his hair as he looks away from me. “How’s Rick?”

“He’s okay. The wound healed up before the squad even made it there to pick up my mother, so now he’s perfect.” 

He nods. “That’s good. Demon powers are crazy, right?” 

“Yeah, they’re pretty screwed up.” My body grows cold as I think about all the trouble demon shit has caused me over the past couple of days. I even killed someone I knew in order to save my own skin which ended up not mattering anyway, because in the end I still became a fucking demon. A single tear slips from my eye and I quickly bat it away.  

Stew reaches out to touch my face, but it just feels wrong and foreign to have his touch now. The connection I used to feel towards him is gone. Maybe Rick was right, all we ever really had was his demon side seeking out my soul. 

I step back. “I’m sorry. I’m with Rick now.”

His brow creases and he draws his lips in tight. “But I love you, Nat.”

Taking another step away from him, I wipe a tear away from my eyes. “Are you sure? Our connection doesn’t feel as strong anymore.” 

He nods. “Just because the pull is gone doesn’t mean I don’t still have feelings for you.”

I turn to dash in the house before I say or do something that will betray Rick. 

“Nat, I’m leaving tomorrow.” He says behind me and I freeze. “My dad, he finally broke down and told me the truth about what I am.”

I whip around. “He knows you’re part demon?”

Stew frowns, practically making his dimples disappear. “Yeah, he does.”

“How would he know that?”

“Because my mother was a demon. Dad said Mom never died either. He told me that was a lie that he had to tell everyone because she had to leave. She didn’t want to put me in danger.”

I gasp. “She’s alive?”

“Yes.”

I tilt my head to the side. “What kind of danger?”

His gray eyes meet mine. “If I’m a around demonic energy, I become a monster myself. Mom left so I could have a normal human life”

That’s how he never knew what he was. “So being around me and Rick…”

He nods. “Turns me evil, which is why now that I know what I am, I’m going to find my mother. I’ve been without her long enough. And I was hoping you’ll come with me.”

I frown. “I hope you find her, Stew, but I can’t go with you.”

Not wanting to wound him any deeper with a detailed explanation on how I may not fully be in love with him anymore, I turn around and head for the house. 

I belong with Rick—the love of my past life. Somehow I can just feel that he’s who I’m supposed to be with. 

Rick says with time, I’ll get the memories of my past life back. According to him, it’ll be gradual, with certain things triggering a memory—kind of like a person with amnesia. It’d be nice to know what kind of love we shared before, but from the look on my face in that picture, we were happy, and I would give anything to feel that free again. 

My future as a demon isn’t really clear. I mean, Rick said he would explain things in time and he’ll always be by my side, but it looks like I’ll have a lot of rules to learn about the soul collection game. Stealing souls for the devil was never part of my plan, but somehow I have to learn how to make this work. 

This is going to be a hell of a year.

W
ith every book
I write I meet more and more amazing people. Thank you, dear reader, for embracing this book and giving an underdog Indie author like me a chance to entertain you with the crazy stories that spill out of my brain. I appreciate every single one of you from the bottom of my heart. 

Next comes some of the best writing pals I could ever ask for. I couldn’t have a better support system even if I wished for one with a magically granted wish. Emily Snow and Kelli Maine have been by my side through thick and thin and I am thankful each and every day that I have you two to lean on!

Katie Ashley you have always assisted me in editing all my novels to this point, so I want to thank you for reading twenty thousand versions of this book and not complaining. Your edits are amazing.

Kristen Proby, you make me laugh on a daily basis. Thank you for brightening my days with your wicked sense of humor. 

To the romance blogging community, thanks to you all Google can now find my books. ;) Thank you for always supporting me. I would name all of you, but that would take up most of the page, just know if you are reading this that I have much love for you and want to thank you for all the pimpage you do for me and my novels. They would seriously never be read if it weren’t for you guys. Keep doing what you’re doing. Us authors need you.

Christine Bezdenejnih Estevez, thank you for EVERYTHING. Thank you for organizing the book tour for this novel. I know it takes a ton of time to do that and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all the work you’ve put in. Thank you for your keen eye and helping me catch all those pesky weird/incorrect words. You rock so much!

Holly Malgieri, thank you for your words of encouragement when I’m down in the dumps. I couldn’t ask for a better cheerleader!

My beautiful ladies in the Rock the Heart Discussion Group, you all rock so much it isn’t even funny. Thank you for the laughs. 

Jennifer Wolfel, thank you for helping me out with this novel. I know beta reading takes time, so thank you for helping me out and making this book better.

Nikki Sparks and Nichele Reese, what can I say but thank you for reading the rough draft of this book and cheering me on to publish it. Nikki, it’s because of your love for the book that it’s seeing the light of day. You got me excited about it again. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

Last, but never least the two men in my life--thank you for putting up with me. I love you both more than words can express.

I
’m not
sure what in the hell Candace was thinking when she took this job—wait…scratch that. I know exactly what she was thinking when she accepted this audition at Hell Cat Salon.

Money.

The dollar signs flashed in my sister’s eyes when she learned about making phenomenal tips for shaking her ass while dancing and singing on top of a bar for a crowd of horny guys on Friday nights.

There’s barely enough room to stand in here as throngs of thirsty bar patrons shove into my back, attempting to inch their way closer to the bar. I stare up at Candace, whose blue eyes sparkle and her blonde hair gleams under the spotlights as she struts her stuff, showing off how skilled she is at her newly learned dance routine. We spent the entire week going over the songs and moves so she would be ready for tonight. She had everything down perfectly. Hell, even I had it all memorized from helping her out. Even now, I catch myself moving a bit and belting out the lyrics along with the girls performing, which is completely weird, considering I’m more of an indie music chick. Pop music isn’t my thing, but I love to sing as long as there’s a good beat.

The bass taps out the last few notes and all the girls freeze and hold their ending poses, allowing the crowd to cheer in approval.

Lydia, the head bartender who offered my sister a trial job here, grabs a microphone and hops up onto the bar. “Wow! You guys are pumped tonight! I take it you approve the fresh meat I hired.” Lydia nods toward Candace, who steps forward and a barrage of cat calls erupt as she does a little shimmy in her daisy duke shorts and extra tight tank top. “How ‘bout we put this girl to the test and see what she’s got. Give it up for Candace!”

I shove my index finger and thumb into my mouth and blow as hard as I can. The whistle catches the attention of the tall, tattooed man who has been standing in front of me all night. He turns to face me, and I nearly choke on my fingers.

He’s gorgeous.

I don’t ever throw a word like that around to describe a guy, but the word fits him to a ‘T.’ The muscles in his forearms bulge beneath the intricate tattoos that cover every inch of his exposed skin. Hell, even his hands are tattooed, which fits with the crazy, slicked-down Mohawk he’s sporting. Everything about him screams bad-boy and danger, which in my book equals nothing but trouble.

His blue eyes bore into me and then one corner of his mouth lifts up into a ridiculously sexy grin as he scans me from head to toe. “Are you always that good at blowing things?”

Heat creeps up my neck and then spills into my cheeks, no doubt causing a fierce blush as I do my best to ignore such a crude come-on line.

The smile on his face widens. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I roll my eyes. “Not interested.”

He raises his brow as if that’s the first time he’s ever been turned down and then laughs. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. Now if you don’t mind, could you please turn back around so I can watch
my sister?”

“
Sister
, huh? Which one is she?”

I nod up at Candace who is making her way over to the center of the bar. “That one.”

He glances over at the bar and then returns his gaze back to me and then tilts his head as if to exam me. “You two look nothing alike.”

I glance down at the black tights and Chucks I’m wearing and then adjust the hood covering my head out of my line of sight.

Okay, he’s got me there. My sister and I are opposite in every way even down to our hair color—blond versus brunette, but we’re also not related by blood. She’s my step sister technically, but I’ve never thought of her that way. And while this outfit doesn’t exactly scream hey look at me like Candace’s does, I wasn’t a bit concerned about my appearance when I rushed to get here from my job at the Taco Hut. I’m here to support my sister. Screw this guy for trying to make me feel bad for not being hot and sassy like most of the other women in here.

I could punch him, but based on the fact that he has nearly a foot on my five foot five frame, I doubt I’d do much damage. I’d probably break my hand.

I open my mouth to lay into this asshole—to tell him that he’s rude as hell—but am cut-off by the sound of my sister’s voice booming through the speakers.

Putting Hottie-McHoterson in his place will have to wait.

“What’s up, everyone? I’m Candace, the newest Hell Cat, and I want you all to sing along with me if you know this one.”

The beat to a Britney Spears song called
Toxic
blasts across the speakers and I hold my breath and fix my eyes on Candace. She struts around, and I watch like a proud parent as she brings the mic up to her lips and belts out the lyrics. I sign along as loud as I can to support her, and I smile when I glance around, seeing all eyes glued to her.

I must be annoying tattooed-hottie man because he keeps shifting around to stare at me, but I do my best to ignore him and pretend his devilishly sexy ass doesn’t exist.

Candace tosses her hair like she’s making a music video, and then dances her way over toward me. The men are mesmerized and I can’t say that I blame them. She looks fierce in her tiny shorts and black Hell Cats tank.

She towers over me and we sing in sync, both of us smiling because we know she’s nailing her audition right now, which is fantastic news because we desperately need the money. Living on our own is tougher than we thought, but it’s way better than living with my father and her mother who together make a volatile couple that feeds each other’s addiction. We’d had enough of living in that situation and decided it was time for my dad and her mom to make it on their own. It was time we started living for us.

When we collectively told our druggie parents to shove it and moved into an apartment, living in extreme poverty isn’t exactly what we envisioned. Jobs were nearly impossible to find seeing as we’re both twenty-one-years-old and possess no employable skills. Candace had the bright idea of trying to live off our looks and singing abilities by getting jobs here, but I chickened out of auditioning.

Being extremely introverted puts a damper on a lot of things. I always allow the fear of failure to stop me dead in my tracks from pursuing anything that requires putting myself out there to be judged. It’s the main reason why singing for a living is merely a pipedream for me. At this rate, the best I can hope for is Candace to be discovered and allow me to be her personal songwriter.

Candace winks at me before she heads back to the center of the bar while the speakers pound out the last few beats of the song. She throws her arm up while she pulls the mic up to her mouth with the other and sings the last note. The crowd goes nuts and it vibrates my eardrums.

“Give it up for Candace! Our newest Hell Cat!” Lydia calls out. “Make sure you fellas tip her well.”

Candace giggles as she steps toward the edge of the bar. A couple men extend their hands up to help her down, and as soon as her feet land on the floor, money is being thrust at her from every direction as she heads my way.

“Drea!” Candace squeals as she rushes into my arms. “Oh, my God. That was so much fun!”

“You killed it out there,” I say into her ear as the music from the next act pounds all around us. “No way Lydia can deny how awesome your performance was.”

She pulls back and her blue eyes sparkle with excitement. “This is the answer to our prayers. No more Ramen Noodles and Peanut butter sandwiches for us.”

We laugh and go into another bout of celebrating as we hug again. Wrapped in Candace’s arms, I notice over her shoulder that Mr. Tattoo is openly watching us. The moment our eyes connect he smiles that cocky smile that’s really starting to get under my skin.

I pull back from Candace and roll my eyes. “We have an audience.”

She bites her bottom lip as her eyes light up. “A cute one?”

My gaze flicks over to him, and as much as I would love to say absolutely not, Candace would call my bluff the moment she spots the guy. No one in their right mind could deny his hotness.

“Silence from you means he’s smokin’. Which one is he?” She spins on her heel, and nearly collides with him. She stares up at him as he steadies her by grasping her elbow. “No wonder you had my sister tongue-tied. You’re sexy.”

I grimace and fight the urge to smack her. Candace has the uncanny ability to say the perfect thing to embarrass me when we’re around members of the opposite sex.

“I tend to have that effect on women.” He winks at me and then turns his attention back to Candace. “You did a phenomenal job up there. I’m interested in seeing you again.”

It doesn’t shock me that this man is into my sister. She’s a babe. She’s smart, beautiful and talented—the total package—so I can’t fault the guy for trying, but little does he know his rejections for the night are about to double.

“No offense, but you aren’t exactly my type. I’m not into the whole bad boy thing. That’s my sister’s department.”

“That’s good,” he says coolly as he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a business card. “I’m not asking for a date. This is a business opportunity for you. My name is Laz Rawlings, and I’m putting together a female singing group. You might be a good fit.”

Candace takes the card and studies it. “Second Coming Records? I’ve never heard of it, or you.”

“It’s my label—a start up. This new group I’m building will be the flagship act for me.”

I step up beside Candace to get a better look at the card. It’s black with the gold type font—nothing special. “Anyone can get those printed. Doesn’t mean he’s legit.”

“I assure you there’s no one realer than me in the record business. Google me if you’d like. I was making hits while you were still wearing braces in middle school.”

I shake my head. “I still don’t buy it. There’s no way I’ll allow you to meet this guy alone somewhere, Candace. This could be a trick to get you secluded. It’s probably the line he uses to meet women.”

Laz smirks. “Trust me, baby. I don’t need to put in work to get pussy. That comes willingly to me.”

I roll my eyes and grab Candace by the wrist. “Come on.”

“Tell you what…” Laz’s words halt Candace in her tracks, forcing me to stand here and listen to more of his bullshit. “If you don’t trust me, you can come and audition too. I heard you singing along with her. Honest truth, you didn’t sound half bad, but you don’t exactly have the look I’m going for?”

“What’s wrong with the way I look?” I snap back.

“Nothing is wrong you per se. I’m going for a little more Britney and a lot less Marilyn Manson in the vibe department, but that’s nothing a makeover on you can’t fix if you’ve got the vocal talent I’m looking for.”

This is the second time this man has insulted me in the last twenty minutes. He’s really begging for me to punch him in the nuts.

“You’re a dick.”

He lifts one shoulder, giving off the expression like
yeah, I know
. “It’s my job to call it as I see it. I’m a producer and have an eye for what works in the business.”

“And you think my sister has what it takes?”

“I know she does. Everyone in this place just ate up that performance—the rest of the world will too once they get an opportunity to see her. That’s where I come in. I can make her a star.”

Candace grins and I know what he’s saying is music to her ears. Becoming famous singers was our mutual dream since we were kids. It was the one thing that bonded us together when our parents got together when we were twelve and threw us into sharing the same house as an insta-family. But getting offered your dream on a silver platter is only something that happens in fairytales.

“I don’t think—”

“We’ll do it,” Candace answers, instantly cutting me off. “If you can do all the things you say, then count us in.”

Laz smiles. “Great. Text me your number and I’ll send you the address for the auditions.” His blue eyes slide over to me. “I look forward to seeing what you got.”

I open my mouth to smart off and tell him he’ll never see what I got, but he doesn’t give me time. He steps around me and then gets swallowed up by the crowd.

Something tells me we’ve just agreed to jump in bed with the sexy devil himself.