Chapter 4: Stage Light Siren - Hunger & Harmony

What kind of vampire refuses to drink blood?

A petty one. More specifically, a foolish king who regards his assistant so lowly, he’s fine with throwing his supernatural nutrition under the tour bus.

The more I dwell on it, the hotter my blood boils. How dare he be so . . .so . . .

Annoying.

It’s carried all the way to opening night. Instead of enjoying the glitz and glam of the venue, I’ve been stewing. Why do I care so much? I guess he’s hot, and maybe I’ve never felt a vampire’s attention before . . .

Still. Consider it the first and last time I’ll be giving a rockstar a chance. Immortal or not!

Backstage is a velvet tunnel of shadows and rosin-dust. I sulk, glad that Niko is in his stupid dressing room as crew members rush around and yell orders. At this point, I’m a drop of oil in this complex machine. My eyes stay glued to my phone, checking off lists and keeping tabs on everything happening.

In just an hour, the show starts. Crowds of fans were lined up this morning, dripping in chains and black garments. The excitement is building to euphoria as they file in. The floor vibrates with stampeding and the thunderous bass of pre-show music. If only I could savor the magic of it all.

Selene said it best: Arteria rarely tours. Whether it's curiosity to see vampires up close or loyal fans eager to take this chance, the Sunveil arena is flooded with high energy.

An arm snakes around my waist as I’m triple-checking a list, and a yelp shoots up my throat.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s just me,” Ezren says as I whip around in his grasp, fangs poking out of his cute smile.

“Oh . . .” I smile back awkwardly. “Sorry, I thought you were getting ready.”

“They don’t need to work too hard on me,” he says with a wink. “My face does all the heavy lifting.”

When he steps back to show off, I can’t help but agree. Going from an adorable puppy type to a smoky-eyed, hot drummer would definitely be difficult for anyone else. Being naughty is definitely a big part of his charm. Hence, the black, mesh shirt showcasing the nude pin-up girls and innuendos tattooed across his arms and torso.

“Well, I’ll get back to⁠—”

“I noticed something.”

Pausing, I tilt my head when a smirk pulls his lips up.

“Huh? What is it?”

He leans in, and my eyes catch the glint of his lip piercing. What does he know?

“You didn’t come to soundcheck.”

The beat pounding through the floor switches to something slower. I fidget with my sleeve.

“Uh . . .I had stuff to do,” I say, not even convincing myself.

“Oh, totally. I’m sure,” he says, and I almost think he’ll let it go. “Stuff that had anything to do with avoiding Niko?”

I cough to avoid sighing.

“Why would I do that? I’m just . . .”

“Busy, I know,” he teases, leaning down to catch my avoidant gaze. “Busy avoiding His Majesty.”

When I can’t contain my pout, he laughs jovially. I glance at my phone. He’s wasting precious working minutes.

“What do you want?” I ask, seriously wondering what about this is so funny to him.

“Hmm . . .”

He shrugs, and my mouth falls open.

“What? You’re not gonna say?”

“Why should I be truthful with a liar?”

His laughter is drowned out by the song switching and a swell of excitement from the crowd. I groan as the dim lighting flashes purple.

“Okay, whatever, you got me,” I say before I glance around and dip my head lower. “Yes, I can’t stand him. But that’s super unprofessional, so please don’t tell anyone.”

“It is,” he says. “I won’t.”

“What do you want, then?”

There’s no way in Aurea he won’t use this to his advantage. Mischief lights up his eyes and curls his smirk deeper.

“Truthfully, there’s nothing I really want,” he says, and I raise a brow.

“But . . .?”

“I’m stumped. How did you not react to his voice?”

Pausing, I mentally file through all my interactions with Niko. Plus, last night, when everyone listening but me seemed . . .almost . . .

“Is it supposed to be hypnotic?” I ask slowly.

He barks out another laugh.

“Hypnotic? Honey, it ain’t just suggestive; his voice can outright control.”

“What?”

His expression morphs from playful to confused.

“Are you fucking with me? How could you . . . not be aware?”

“Am I supposed to be?” I whisper.

After glancing around, he suddenly hooks an arm around my shoulders and ushers me away. As much as I should protest, I’m in a daze as he leads me to a secluded supply closet. Singing to control people’s minds seems impossible. Why would Niko be able to do that?

“Cadence . . .You’re a vampire band’s PA. You’re Arteria’s PA. How would you not know?”

All blood drains from my face. Am I in trouble?

“Um . . .”

“Are you lying?”

If all of Viola’s effort is headed down the drain, I might as well admit my part in it.

“Well, I maybe didn’t know that because my resume and everything was . . .”

Ezren inhales sharply. Then, his hand meets my throat. He’s not applying pressure, but it’s enough for my eyes to widen and my heart to stop.

“You lied your way into our trusted circle?”

Oh shit. I didn’t think of the implications before I opened my stupid mouth.

“No!” I squeak. “I . . .I mean, yes, but . . .I-It’s not like that!”

An intensity I didn’t think he was capable of hardens his cute features. The grip on my throat tightens ever so slightly, still not nearly cutting off airflow.

“An infiltrator, huh? Who sent you? The Midnight Court? The Crimson Veil?”

“The who? What?” I stammer.

“Wait . . .Don’t tell me you’re a Hunter,” he whispers, like the word alone shatters his heart.

“N-No! Ez, please, I . . .I messed up, but I’m serious. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Only Hunters have developed wards for the siren magic in a pureblood’s voice.” His eyes narrow. “Come to think of it, what other explanation would be feasible?”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I mourn both my mascara and my own life as I sob.

“Ez . . .I’m sorry, I just . . .I got my best friend to forge my application and get me in because I’m tired of my parents controlling me! This was the best situation away from my hometown! I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I swear on my life!”

His anger wavers, eyes softening just a touch.

“I want to believe you, Cadence,” he says. “We just started this tour, and having someone to bother Ryel and His Majesty is great.” His hand remains. “But how can I trust that?”

“I’ll prove it to you,” I promise, even if I don’t have a single clue how.

Behind his fury is clear hesitation. Hurt, even. Mixed emotions swirl in his eyes, and really, it’s like he’s not even looking at me anymore.

“Ezren Black.”

Selene’s voice sends a cold shiver down my spine. I give Ezren a pleading look before he glances back at her in the doorway.

“Selene,” he says, not budging. “Your amulet. Mendax.”

Despite the sudden demand, not a whisper of shock or even curiosity changes her body language. She approaches like every other time, measured and intimidating.

“I haven’t used it in so long,” she says.

“The king’s right-hand would never not have it, right?”

Her reply is pulling a necklace out from under her billowy shirt. It’s a small vial of a liquid so dark, it shadows black itself. The cap is made of smooth metalwork and hangs from a simple silver chain. Despite a forgettable appearance, power radiates from it as she loops the amulet off of her and holds it up.

“What happened?” she asks, questioning the situation for the first time.

“I lied!” I shriek, and Ezren reinforces his hold on me.

“She claims escaping her parents is the only reason she lied to get this job. That just doesn’t make sense,” he says. “What does make sense is her lying.”

“You suspect she’s a spy,” Selene says, filling in the blanks.

“I’m not,” I say, shaking my head as best I can. “I promise!”

Her ice-blue stare pins me harder than Ezren, pulling me apart and examining every part of me.

“Do we call off tonight?” she asks him.

“Not until we confirm,” Ezren says, nodding to her necklace.

Call off the show? With the whole venue already waiting, that’d be a PR nightmare. The weight of this accusation hits me full force.

“Only one way to find out.”

Selene draws the amulet closer to me. I tremble, too petrified to even pray.

“Are you a spy sent to harm King Niklaus Vane?”

“No!” I say, tearful gaze glued to the vial.

It emits a subtle vibration. I squeeze my eyes shut, so sure this is it.

“Were you truthful in your explanation? You’re only running from strict parents?”

“Yes! Yes, I just . . .I love music, a-and they’ve always said no! I really don’t know what Ez was talking about, I just wanted to travel and . . .and . . .”

When I dare open one eye to peek, I see the amulet rattling. Is that good? Or am I a goner?

The liquid inside fades from black to clear, looking devoid of anything as Selene and Ezren exchange a long look. I quake like a leaf while they silently determine my fate.

Ezren’s hand relaxes, and he backs away completely. I hug myself tightly as my back hits the wall, sniffling and blinking at them both.

“I’m sorry, Cadence,” he says, voice trembling. “I didn’t want to do that, I just . . .We’ve had scares in the past.”

I’m too shaken to respond. What can I even say? Nothing about that made any sense to me.

“I completely understand if you resign,” Selene says.

My bottom lip wobbles. That’s what they all seem to want. Especially Ryel. I haven’t even been here a full week, and my life has already been put on the line.

Uncharacteristic fury flashes through my body. I tighten my arms around myself. Why? It’s just a job, I shouldn’t be put in this position!

Remorse reflects in Ezren’s watery eyes when he staggers back. He didn’t mean harm, did he? He looks ready to jump out of his own skin.

My eyes find the dark floor, and I take a breath. No. I won't sway. Freedom always comes with a price, right? I just need to be way more careful about my big mouth. There’s nothing I even have to hide! A spy? If only my life were that cool.

I adjust my disheveled bangs and straighten my shoulders.

“It’s okay. I get where you’re coming from,” I say, mostly to Ezren. “Let’s just start over. No hard feelings.”

“Start over? No hard feelings?” he echoes. “For real?”

It’s not like me to hold a grudge. Especially not when I feel his sincerity. Viola always said I’m too trusting, but I’d rather get hurt trying than never take risks.

“Yes.” I extend a hand out to him. “You’re protecting your king. Technically, I am now, too.”

Ezren stares at my hand. A hint of a smile fades as quickly as it appears on Selene’s lips.

When his tatted hand takes hold of mine, I grin. Finally, he returns it.

“Wow. If that was a test, you passed with flying colors,” Ezren says, yanking me into a tight hug.

“Not that it was,” Selene says as I’m crushed in Ezren’s embrace. “Though this is a reminder to be on high alert.”

After he releases me, Ezren remains quiet. It’s almost unnerving, but I let it go. He had that severe reaction for a reason.

“We’re on in thirty,” Selene says after a beat of silence.

That’s so little time.

“Shit! We need to hurry!”

Relief settles over me to see everything’s still on track when we return. Vibrations rattle my bones, the bass and roar of fans reaching a fever pitch out there. Anticipation clings to the air like humidity. Even the backstage crew works in a steady rhythm, an elaborate choreography between all departments.

Niko and Ryel are waiting amongst the chaos, both postured expectantly as Selene and Ezren join them.

“What’s going on?” Ryel asks, already interrogating.

“Nothing.” Ezren’s voice is flat.

“We’ll discuss later,” Selene says, and Ezren doesn’t even pout or whine at her.

Altogether, Arteria looks the part of what they are. Black leather meets decadence, that edge cutting through sumptuous silk and lace. Their stage outfits are drama and sensuality with studded belts and heavy boots. Vampiric rock royalty.

I’m not saying I’m letting my eyes linger on Niko. It’s not my fault that the black choker on his neck has me swallowing hard. My attention is already there, so I might as well take note of how striking his burgundy eyes look, smoked out with black shadow and lined with crimson.

Honestly, I’m being really good not staring at his outfit or acknowledging my weak knees. Everything is so fitted. Instead of lingering where the neckline dips to reveal his lean, defined chest or gawk at how strong his thighs look in that material, I drag my eyes up to his slicked-back hair.

His gaze intercepts mine, and I freeze. Is he watching me stare?

Amusement crinkles his eyes, and my face lights up. I’m sure my cheeks could rival the sun’s surface. Now is definitely not the time to ogle His Royal Annoyance.

Peeling my attention away, I swerve past Arteria to find Lorelai.

Only to run straight into her and the sound technician from before. What was his name? Cash?

“Cadie! Everything in order?”

I nod, hoping she’ll continue her streak of oblivious focus.

“Awesome!” My shoulders relax as she continues. “Cass, you ready to hook everyone up?”

Oh, right, it’s Cass. He nods, gesturing for the band to follow him.

If possible, the venue’s energy has reached a new level. It’s not long before Arteria hits the stage.

My first real concert, and I’m back here. That might be a blessing. I’m not sure I can handle watching Niko perform looking like that . . .and knowing what I do now.

Ezren’s words haunt me. Not only are Niko’s vocals somehow hypnotic, but factions exist to destroy him. Hunt him. I may have personal gripes, but it’s not my stupid attraction clouding my judgment. That’s terrifying.

Watching him now, the thought disquiets me. To think of Niko without his confident stride and effortlessly potent energy.

I shake my head as he fades from view. What am I thinking? Just because these . . .factions exist in Aurea doesn’t mean anything will happen. If it does, it has literally nothing to do with me, no matter how upsetting.

That alone becomes a lifeline and a curse as I throw myself back into checklists. It strikes a crack into my resolve when the show starts, and I find myself peeking out from behind heavy velvet, clinging for dear life as his resounding voice echoes through the packed venue.

I focus on it. Not just the rich layers of instruments and vocals, or Niko’s smoky vibrato tingling in my eardrums. The power behind it all. I inhale deeply and exhale in time with the pulsing beat, my eyes only for the king amongst a haze of red smoke and blinding strobe lights.

Will his hypnosis pull me under? Am I capable of being a face in this crowd, lost to enthrallment with my body swaying and lips trembling?

My eyes flutter shut.

Something is supposed to respond. So distant, I barely feel it, but something aches to surrender to his song. It ebbs and rises like a tide. I can’t pin the feeling down enough to explore it.

It just won't. From breathy seduction to arrangements of heavy riffs and drums, Arteria’s style is dynamic. But no range in atmosphere or song structure moves me.

What strikes me is his beauty, his passion. I open my eyes again, and it’s clear. What draws me is not his voice. It’s him. He shines before the crowd and their cameras, the electricity of this moment pulling my lips into a smile.

He looks like he’s where he belongs.

One question bleeds into my enjoyment as my gaze focuses on the thousands of fans captivated by him. They bob their heads, shout and sing along, and move in every imaginable way. Maybe I can blame my love for pop music, but this isn’t so different from any kind of fan culture I’ve seen glimpses of.

It’s such a raw energy, such a human experience. Is it all a lie? If Niko is the one orchestrating their reactions, where does that leave our love for music as humans? And if it’s all only a result of his control . . .

Then why do I not fall under the spell?