Wicked Harmony

Chapter 8 | Sin

Chapter 8

Sin

10 minutes earlier

I sit in silence for a couple of beats once Dorian and Cal have left the shop. I’d basically made my mind up about what I was going to do last night, but having them both here inside Grizz’s threw me for a loop.

My phone buzzes and I see I have a message from Elara.

Elara : Check Orlog’s daily dose of dickheadedness.

Elara : You’re welcome.

For a moment, I consider telling her to fuck off. I’m still pissed at hell at her. But I shake off my irritation and thumb the tab I permanently have open on my phone. It takes me straight to The Path’s online channel. The one the Herald resorted to using when they could no longer even fill regular sized meeting rooms. Once a week, he posts an Awakening, which ends with him asking for donations.

His decline didn’t come with a bang, so much as he kind of fizzled out with a whimper. He’s always taped his sermons, and some sick sense of morbid curiosity and self-preservation meant I wound up tuning in. Maybe not every week, but regularly enough. So I got to witness his regular audience of Devoted shrink from thousands, to hundreds, to fewer than ten.

He used to talk about me.

A lot .

To begin with, I was the Devoted who had gone missing. He asked for support in finding me, splashing an ancient picture of the two of us together. Back when I was still a teenager, still auburn-haired. Dressed demurely, in a high-necked blouse with full sleeves, even though it was the middle of summer and hot as hell. He’s smiling, flashing his fake teeth in an even faker smile. And I just look tired. More tired than I should have at that age.

He used my disappearance as an excuse to request more money from his Devoted. Donations to track me down. Donations for the supposed ransom someone requested for me.

... yeah, I’m betting none of that money got any further than his pockets. For the first time, I was grateful for his selfish, money-grabbing tendencies. If he was spending the cash on his teeth, hair and tan, along with his brand new car, he wasn’t spending it on tracking me down.

By the time I moved to Willow Ridge, he’d stopped with the whole ‘Search for Saint’ shtick and instead I became a lesson for his sermons. A lost member of his flock.

These days, he doesn’t mention me so often. Clearly, it’s no longer bringing him in cash, so it’s not worth doing.

But when I tune in to the Dose of Devotion as prompted by Elara, I see that same old picture of me frowning at me.

Saint Madison Orlog.

RIP

I stare at it before it sinks in exactly what I’m seeing. The announcement of my death.

That wasn’t even my name, but it’s still weird as hell.

The camera angle makes it impossible to tell how many people are in the room with him, but I’d guess it’s fewer than ten. Yet he still has a couple hundred people currently watching online. I spot Gina and Gerry in the audience, but my mom hasn’t been a part of his Devoted for a long time .

“Today, we remember one of our lost members. Saint, I hope you find peace in the next life.” He stares at the camera, doing his best impression of a guy who has regular emotions.

I call Elara immediately, shoving aside my annoyance in preference to finding answers to what the hell is happening.

“All right, Sin?”

“I’ve had a weird couple of days,” I reply. “Yesterday, I met a world-famous rock band, and they invited me on tour with them. Then today, I discovered that I’m apparently dead. Have you got anything to tell me, Elara?” I growl down the phone at her.

She groans. “Sinjin. I’m sorry, okay? But it was Orpheus Underground, Orpheus fricking Underground. Do you know how much I wanted to be Iri Dium a few years back?”

I roll my eyes. “How did they track me down, Elara?”

“Their guy was too damn good, Sin. They hired this legit tracker, and he found some holes I wasn’t aware of. Apparently, it led him right to me. He was so good. But he was really damn helpful too. He gave me some tips on how I could wipe you from the internet better. So I did. You’re welcome.”

I let out a high-pitched exasperated noise that makes me sound like a steaming kettle. “I can’t believe you sold me out because you’ve got a lady boner for Orpheus Underground.”

“It’s Iri fucking Dium, Sin!” she whines. “Seriously, I couldn’t say no. Do you know how cool it was to be talking to Iri Dium when I was that weird kid who grew up half human and half demon? He was my fucking idol when he showed up on the scene.”

“No, Elara, I don’t,” I reply tersely. In fact, I didn’t know until this exact moment that she was part demon. And somehow she’s still my closest... and only, friend.

“I killed you off, so you can go free and fulfill your dreams of being a rockstar, or a rockstar groupie, whichever works,” she says.

“Neither of those are my dreams, Elara. ”

She mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Well, fulfill my dreams for me instead, then.” I just roll my eyes again, even though she can’t see me.

“Anyway, you’re not, legally dead, because that’s way too messy. Tons of paperwork. But you don’t need to be officially dead, just for the right people to think you are, right? So there you go. No more Saint. RIP, baby.”

As weird as it might be, she’s right. It’s kind of like a weight’s lifted off my shoulders. No more Saint. To the Herald, I’m dead and gone. However, the timing strikes me as being a little too convenient.

“Remember, you can’t catch diseases or get pregnant when you’re two different species. You can play fast and loose, baby.”

I let out a sigh. “Thanks Elara.”

As annoyed as I might be with her, I’m pretty sure her heart was in the right place and she seriously thought she was doing me a favor.

“You’re so welcome, Sin. I know exactly how you can repay me. Free tickets and maybe a backstage pass.”

“Don’t push it Elara.”

MY MIND HAD BEEN MOST of the way made up before Cal and Dorian’s surprise visit to the shop. Then, with the news of my untimely death, another shackle loosened. That, plus the way Julia was asking around yesterday and the attention the band is no doubt getting while they’re here in Willow Ridge, which will likely have brought way more focus to me than I’d ever want.

I can’t stay here. That much is clear.

I don’t want to, either.

I’ve wasted enough of my life in this town, in this crappy little shop with the endless ticking wall of clocks.

By the time Cal reappears, I’m mentally going through my stuff, working out how long it’s going to take me to pack it all up. I momentarily get distracted rewatching the Herald’s latest video, and then Cal’s suddenly in front of me.

He’s a big guy, but he has the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“I’ll do it. I’ll come on tour with you,” I tell him.

“Yeah?” He peers down at me before his face breaks into a small smile. “Iri’s gonna be pleased as hell. He’s driven us all crazy with his obsession over finding you.” He pauses. “Do you need help, uh, packing or anything?”

I eye his thick arms and momentarily lose myself in my imagination as I picture exactly how many bags he can easily carry.

Cal clears his throat. “Or a lease to get out of, a resignation letter to write?”

Dammit, he’s right. I do have a ton of shit to do.

“An hour, that’s all I need. I don’t have a ton of stuff to pack and it should be pretty quick to quit my job and let my landlord know I’m not renewing my apartment lease for next month.”

He nods, then insists on joining me back at my shitty little apartment and helping me pack. There’s zero judgment in his eyes over the state of the furniture and the carpet. Or the fact I pack my life away into a suitcase, my trusty duffel bag, and a bunch of boxes that are filled with my tools.

Exactly an hour later, he’s loaded up like a packhorse while I’m carrying a single box as we head over to the café to meet the others. It still feels kind of surreal that I’m actually doing this, taking a step forward into the unknown.

As soon as we step inside Daily Grind, I’m hit with a wall of silence as everyone’s attention fixes on the two of us.

If people’s attention hadn’t been drawn my way already, turning up with all my stuff and with a rockstar in tow has definitely put paid to that. I spot Ally and Lila in one corner of the café, both clutching huge mugs like lifelines while staring openly from me to the table of rock stars in the corner .

I give them an awkward wave and all I get is a slow mouth drop and a blink in return. I don’t think we’re gonna be besties anytime soon. The way they ditched me with no way of getting home was a pretty shitty move on their part. If I were a pettier bitch, I’d go over to them and say hello.

Instead, I just go straight to the rockstar table in the corner.

“All packed?” Iri asks, getting to his feet and towering above me with a little smirk.

“And good to go,” I reply.

It feels like the entire café is watching as we head out. For a sleepy town where everyone has their own secrets, they sure aren’t disguising their nosiness when something out of the ordinary happens.

“We’re good then?” Iri asks. “You don’t need to say your goodbyes or pack anything else up?” He eyes my meager belongings and I shake off the shame that wants to crawl up my spine.

“I have everything I need,” I tell him. I don’t explain that there’s no one here I need to tell I’m leaving, but he seems to understand.

We stop part way up the main street beside a suped up minivan, which Iri unlocks before grabbing my stuff and adding it to the pile of bags in the trunk.

I climb inside and we set off. Ready to shed my past and for a second attempt at a new life. This time I’m not going to let it go to waste.