Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 52

C h apte r 52

Stone Dragons at Riversid e Theatre

Evening, Friday, Febr uary 27 th at Riverside Theatre in Min eo, Bacoli

“H ow many passes did they give away?” Margot griped, walking past the long line of eager fans waiting to meet the band before the show. Normally, there were a dozen people backstage, but the Bacolian radio station seemed to have given away more than twice the amount they’d vol unteered.

Margot glanced behind her, making sure none of the VIPs were using her as a way to sneak by the line and into the green room. A tall man with blond hair and a pleasant smile caught her attention. In the past, Margot might have returned the look, possibly lining up some evening entertainment, but those days were be hind her.

I’m in a relationship , she thought dazedly. She thought of Tobin, missing him immediately. While he rarely left her side, he did have work to do as himself and as Lord Rebinus, and he had headed back to Lorellon for a few hours. Margot guessed he didn’t like watching the shows anymore, not now that Ash dedicated “Heart of Stone” to her each time he sang it.

She pushed through the clumped fans at the head of the line with a brusque “Coming through!” Turning around at the door, she put a hand to her mouth to amplify t he sound.

“Listen up!” she began. “VIP Meet ’n Greet in five minutes. Get in a single line and have your badge ready. If you’re getting a photo, have your phone ready too!” Seeing she had their rapt attention, she brought down the drill sergeant and added some sweetness. “I know you all love the guys, but please remember that they have a show to perform in a little bit—and they need enough time to see al l of you!”

The first few fans nodded, eyes wide with excitement. This was their chance to meet the band—the members they idolized. Margot let their eagerness wash over her, recalling those early days when any fans were a welcome sight. She had a responsibility to make sure the experience was positive. Doing mental math, she judged that each fan had about one minute with the band.

She opened the green room door, slipping in without opening it fully, and turned to face the band, her hand ready on the handle. Ash was sitting on the couch, guitar in hand, singing a new song:

“ —and dream I could be with you .” He stopped singing, though his voice echoed in Margot’s ears for a moment. Timothy stood up, tucking his drumsticks in his back pocket, and Nik put down the guitar he had been strumming along with Ash’s singing.

“New one, huh?” Margot asked, scanning the wall for the clock she knew was somewhere in the room.

“Yeah,” Nik said, getting to his feet. “It’s coming along.” He gestured at the door. “H ow is it?”

“Busy,” Margot told him. “Polite so far.” She found the clock leaning against the wall behind the arm of the couch and picked it up. Luckily, it was still ticking. She set it atop the small bookshelf next to the couch so she could watch the second hand move and keep the line going. She pointed at the wall covered in graffiti to her right. “Greetings where you are—Stand up, Ash—then pictures against that wall. I’ll grab one of the crew to take the pictures.” They nodded, and Margot walked back to the door, squaring her shoulders and taking a dee p breath.

“You ready?” she asked the band’ s leader.

Ash got to his feet, tugging the guitar strap over his shoulder. Margot knew it was his new way of greeting fans, the body of the guitar putting physical space between his body and any eager fans. It was another way of trying to show Margot he had changed—both Nik and Timothy insisted he hadn’t touched a groupie since the redhead back in Akkoy. She stared at the trio, her boys, and smiled. “This is a far cry from opening at the Palace Hotel Ballroom,” she said, remembering their first show, the guys nervously excited, the crowd there to see ano ther band.

“Definitely,” Nik agreed. The guys shared a look, bringing Margot into the connection, and for a moment, everything was fine again—the world she knew and loved returned to normal. But then Ash winked at her, and the image fizzled away—leaving a dull ach e behind.

Those days were gone now. Though part of her missed them, a bigger part was excited about what lay ahead … after they survived this fan backroom experience. “Let’s do this,” she said, then opened the door and stepped outside, scanning the crowd for a crew member. She had texted Travis, but Margot wondered if he was on yet another smo ke break.

Sensing the crowd’s eagerness slowly building into annoyance, Margot caught the eyes of the pleasant blond near the front and walked ove r to him.

“Hey,” she said, “you know how to take pictures?”

He nodded, eyes wide as he stare d at her.

“Good enough,” she said and crooked her finger. “Come with me.” Without watching to see if he obeyed, she headed back to the door, opened it, and moved aside to shove him through.

“Guys,” she said, gesturing at the newcomer, “this is—” She studied his badge, but it just said VIP Access—no name. “What’s yo ur name?”

“Lawrence,” he replied n ervously.

“Larry, meet the guys of Stone Dragons,” she told him, sweeping her hand at the band. “Guys, meet Larry. He’s our photograph er today.”

Larry eagerly approached the band, shaking hands excitedly but without making it awkward. “So glad to be here!”

“Larry,” Margot interrupted, “take at least three pictures, but try for five if you can. We get a minute per person, so use your judgement based on gr oup size.”

“Got it, my—” He stumbled a bit, then added , “Ma’am.”

Facing the room, she gave everyone a thumbs up. “ We ready?”

Ash nodded, Nik returned her thumbs up, and Timothy said, “We are ready, Go. Let them in.”

The next thirty minutes flew by with Margot letting in groups of twos and threes and the occasional singleton. Larry was an adept photographer, adjusting to each new phone with ease, never letting them time out or needing a code or face recognition to re-load. When the last fan had finished, Margot eased them out the door and directed the large group to follow the lines on the floor to the VIP area in front of the stage, relieved to see that Travis had returned and was herding them out.

Checking the clock, she saw they had about ten minutes before Das Leprechauns started their set. “Need anything before the show?” she asked, trying to ignore the obvious desire on Ash’s face as he stared at her. The lead singer said nothing.

“We’re all good,” Nik told her. “Why don’t you show Larry here to the good seats in VIP? Man just started a new career as a photographer tonight!”

Margot laughed. “Thanks, Larry. I appreciate it.” Turning to the door, she added, “Come on. The guys need some time before th ey go on.”

Larry’s smile, big to begin with, grew even more emphatic, making his face almost creepy. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, follo wing her.

“Don’t ma’am me,” she said, leading him out of the room and ignoring the slow frisson of warning that slid up her arms. “I’m hardly older than you are.” The door shut behind them, and she led the way through the backs tage area.

“My apologies, my Lady,” Larry said instead, and Margot didn’t miss the fae title. Whirling, she faced him, a hand on h is chest.

“Who are you?” she demanded, pushing him against the wall of the narrow corridor. “Actually, I don’t care. Why are you here?” she asked instead. She had thought it odd that he hadn’t wanted a picture of his own with the band, but now she suspected it was because he wasn’t there for them.

“You know why,” he said, voice silky, and Margot felt something slide out of him, slow and seductive, and start to pool around her, starting at her feet. She could almost see it, the cocoon of magic, but it was so slow that she had time to react, kicking a foot out to break the f ormation.

“You are mine,” he whispered, and Margot looked up, seeing the expression on his face slowly twist from starstruck excitement to demented po ssession.

Her first instinct was to laugh at him—at the idea that this boy could try to Claim her. And at that thought, Margot suddenly understood how to defeat him. With startling ease, she reached down and scooped up his power—his tiny power compared to what she could feel burning within herself—and threw it at him, coating his body and freezing him in place. She added her own power on top, building an unbreakable barrier, and pushed the magic forward, deeper, insid e of him.

Oh , she thought dazedly. This is how you Claim someone. It’ s so easy!

A moment later, the magic fizzled, and Margot could see way more of Lawrence O’Malley than she ever wanted to. She could see all of his actions—the journey to the show, his acquisition of the VIP badge by seducing some poor girl who was high on fae magic in her car in the parking lot, his orders to Claim the troublesome new girl and move the game along. She knew he had come with the intention of Claiming her but not of his ow n accord.

“Lord Kristoff,” she whispered the name out loud and understood she had just broken any Claim Kristoff had on Lawrence—ensnaring Kristoff’s servant without any effor t at all.

Is that even possible? I thought Claims were unbreakable… Looking at Larry’s face, she knew it had worked. How str ong am I?

“Oh, Larry,” she breathed, “you are going to tell me ev erything.”

He looked up at her, bright eyes filled with love and devotion. “Of course, Mistress. Anything for you.”

Something in Margot recoiled at the look—at h is words.

Oh fuck, she realized, guilt spilling over her. I Claimed him. I took his free will. What ha ve I done?

“No,” she said suddenly, putting up a hand as Larry moved closer, clearly intending to smother her with his new affection. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, a slavish echo of the courtly manners Tobin had shown her. She pushed him away. “Stop,” she ordered.

Larry obeyed immediately, stepping away and squatting on his haunches, eyes gazing at her with complete a doration.

He’s waiting for his next order , Margot realized, her gorge rising. Will that happen to me? If Rebinus had Claimed me, would I look at him like that?

Staring at Larry’s face, Margot decided that it didn’t matter what she had to do—she was going to make sure that Claiming as a general practice was stopped.

“Lawrence,” she said softly, holding out a hand, “ stand up.”

He obeyed instantly, taking her hand respectfully and staring at her. “Can you do something for me?” she asked, hating herself as she said it but not knowing what else to do. She knew if she got too upset, Tobin would sense it and come running. Ash was only a few yards away and would soon come out of the green room to watch the ope ning act.

“Anything,” Larry breathed, entire body straining to pl ease her.

“I want you to leave this place. Leave your Lord’s home, if you can do that safely, and hide. Don’t let anyone know you have been Claimed by me. This is our little secret, okay?” Larry nodded, her words sinking in, and he waited for the rest. “I need you to be yourself, Lawrence. Don’t think about what I would want. Think about what you want.”

He nodded but opened his mouth. “May I ask a question, Mistress?”

“Of course,” she told him, soul aching at the way he asked.

“Give me a task,” he pleaded. “Something to focus on while I am i n hiding.”

“I want you to listen,” she told him suddenly. “Listen to the other fae. What are their plans? What is the gossip? What news can you find out?”

“I can do that,” Larry said, nodding. “I can do that while I take their pictures.”

“You like taking pictures?” s he asked.

Larry nodded. “I’m good at it,” he admitted. “But how long, Mistress? When can I see y ou again?”

Margot thought about time, the tour, when she would be back home in Arillo again. “Four months,” she told him. “Come find me in fou r months.”

“I can do that,” Larry agreed. “Leave, hide , listen.”

“Larry,” she said, needing to know, “do you have someone special in your life? Like a girlfriend? B oyfriend?”

“Oh no,” Larry said. “No one but you, Mistress.”

“I’m not your Mistress,” Margot told him. “After the four months, you’re free to do as you wish. Live y our life.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Larry said, some of that fanatical adoration leaving his face. “I will not disapp oint you.”

“I know,” Margot told him, feeling the magic Connection that allowed her to see everything within him. “Now go.”

Larry walked away without a look back, intent on his new mission for his Mistress: hide, listen, report in fou r months.

Margot put her face in her hands, deep breathing for a few moments, and gathered herself. By the time the door to the green room opened and Stone Dragons filed out, Margot was already hustling Das Leprechauns on stage, distracting herself from the sick feeling in her gut.