Wicked Harmony

Chapter 17 | Sin

Chapter 17

Sin

T hings were going so well. And then Iri had to ask me to show my work to the band.

Which means having to be upfront about my designs.

Since I only have very basic prototypes to show them, if I want to give them an idea of what I can do for them, that means my only real option is showing them what I used to do.

Which means opening a whole can of worms I’d rather bury in an unmarked grave.

But I knew what I was doing, signing up for this job. I knew it would involve getting into things I’ve kept sealed for the past five years and hoped never to think of again.

And I’m sticking to my resolution to quit hiding and stop burying my head in the sand.

Maybe Dorian’s warning about Cal and Micah has stuck in my head more than I’d like to admit.

After only knowing them for about ten days, we’re just getting to know each other and exploring things. We should be at the stage where I’m still trying to show off my good side. Not where I tear myself open and show them my greatest shame.

I spend a sleepless night and most of the morning hitting my head against the wall, trying to wrack my brains for a way I might get through this meeting without revealing the scarred parts of my soul.

... and coming up empty .

The time ticks down and when I can’t hold it off any longer, I grab my sketches and my box of prototypes and ideas and head over to their practice room.

I find the guys sitting together in the cozy little area just outside their practice space. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s not all that common for the four of them to spend time together outside of practices, so I guess I’ve caught them at a good time.

Cal shoots me a soft smile as soon as he spots me hovering, and Micah’s face breaks into a massive smile as he pulls me into the room.

“Hey, are you hungry?” he asks. “We were gonna shower and then maybe see if I can try my hand at cooking a pizza without ending up with charcoaled bits this time.”

I swallow and clear my throat before I can speak properly. “I, er, have some ideas to run by you guys first.”

“Sure thing.” His smile widens and my gut churns. His smile falters and I realize he’s not wearing his cuff and I’m blasting my uncertainty and negative feelings at him.

Shit.

“You okay?” he asks quietly enough for my ears only.

“Just... nervous,” I mumble back.

It’s not the entire truth, but it’s honest enough.

He nods and plants himself onto one of the sofas as I lay out my designs and my notes and then whip out my laptop.

Iri’s sitting in that super masculine pose where he has his legs spread wide. He’s leaning back with his hands cupping the back of his head, like he’s fully open and listening to what I have to say.

A jolt of nerves shoots through me, and I lick my lips.

“So your gigs have got a few points where we can really pump people up. As the audience comes in and they’re buzzing with anticipation—we can enhance that.” I swallow hard. “Before you come on stage and they’re waiting, we want them practically salivating over you. So, I was thinking at the moment the lights all dim and Cal slips on stage, setting up this steady war drum beat—I’ll push through adrenaline at that point so it really gets their hearts pumping.” I glance around while avoiding everyone’s eye to see if they’re following.

When Iri nods and sits back in his seat, with a, “Sounds good.” I keep going.

“Then, as you start the first song, this shimmering, golden haze will fill the venue, and confetti will burst out from the sky in time with the music. I was also thinking the same devices can be set to have different effects raining from the sky—sometimes different light effects, sometimes holographic images. But they’ll all get paired with a specific feeling.

“It might be excitement, other times a sense of safety and contentment so they can explore their reactions to your rawer songs. We’ll boost them up so they feel like they could rule the world, then boost their empathy so they feel connected with every other person in the venue.” I lick my lips again, pausing to look around again. “I was also thinking I’ll rig something up so none of the venue staff or gig employees are affected by my magic. H-how does that sound?”

“You really think you could pull something like this off on such a large scale?” Dorian asks.

I nod. “Your lighting team already has all the devices that release your current holograms. They’ll be rigged up to release the emotions at certain points during the gig. There are maybe thirty devices for me to tweak for your smaller venues and, like, seventy or maybe more for the biggest ones.”

As I’m saying the words, my stomach twists with anxiety. Yeah, that’s a fuckload of work in my future. While I’m not crafting each device from nothing, it’s still a lot of internal workings for me to modify and add my magic to.

“I have the prototype mocked up to show you, if you’re interested?” I say, pulling out the device that’s currently about the size of a small toaster. This is the device their head of lighting sent through and it’s designed to release sparkly lights which fill the arena at the very end.

“It sounds pretty complicated,” Dorian replies. “How do you know you can influence that many people’s emotions at once?”

“I can.” I swallow hard and shift in my seat.

This is the moment I’m going to lose them.

“I know because I’ve done it before. Not to tens of thousands of people but to thousands,” I continue quietly.

Tapping a button on my laptop, the screen lights up with a video. It’s footage of one of the bigger Awakenings the Herald had, right before I got out of there. I’ve edited the video so that it highlights key points and where I had my gadgets doing their thing.

“If you look closely at the way the audience’s expressions shift from eager, to blissed-out, to—” I pause the video just as everyone sits forward almost in unison.

It’s creepy as hell to rewatch, so obvious that someone is pulling these people’s strings.

“—looking like they could fight a giant and win.” I clear my throat. “Yeah, that’s all my work.”

I let the video play on mute for another thirty seconds. Thirty seconds that have the entire gathered audience closing their eyes in sheer contentment.

Keep your quirks to yourself, Saint, darling. You know others wouldn’t accept your... differences quite the same as we do.

The Herald’s words roll around in my head before I shove them away. He doesn’t deserve a space in my brain any longer. Even though I think he might have been right for once.

Tapping out of the video, I stop talking and sit back.

No one speaks, and the silence spreads like ink on a clean white sheet .

Cal and Micah don’t say a word. And I can’t bear to look at either of them to see the judgment in their eyes.

My instincts are screaming at me to grab my stuff and escape as quickly as possible.

But I told myself I was going to be brave, so I force myself to glance up. Cal’s expression is closed off and I don’t have a clue what he might be thinking. Micah’s smile is long gone.

I catch Iri’s eye and his dark eyes narrow on me. He’s frowning and that causes my stomach to cramp.

Yeah, this went exactly how I expected.

Pushing to my feet, I grab my box and my laptop and get the fuck out of there.

Dorian

SIN NODS TO HERSELF , then gathers up her stuff and strides out of their room. The two idiots supposedly interested in courting her—like they’re relics from some bygone era—just sit there in silence.

“She’s upset,” Micah says. “Why is she upset?” He seems entirely clueless, and Cal looks just as dumbfounded.

I want to smack their heads together and maybe punch myself in the face. How can they be this oblivious?

I know neither of them has much experience with women or with relationships, but Micah can feel her damn emotions and Cal has, like, fifty sisters. Even Iri looks slightly bewildered, which is not a look I’m used to seeing on his face.

I’m pretty sure he already knew all the stuff Sin just laid out like she was dropping a bomb. If anything, Iri’s probably confused about why anyone would think any of that shit was a big deal .

Because they’re not going to let this go, I explain it to them. “Yeah, she’s upset. She just shared a bunch of really unflattering stuff about herself. I guess she’s thinking that you’re all gonna be hating her right now.”

For me, it’s not surprising. From our first encounter, I figured I couldn’t trust her further than I can spit. No one chooses to move to a town like Willow Ridge and fall off the face of the earth so no one can find them, unless they’ve got a good reason.

I was expecting her to have gone one step further and killed the guy in the end, but it seems like she just disappeared into the night.

“She’s upset,” Cal repeats. “Should we go after her?”

“She might want space,” Micah says.

They both look to me like I’m a damn oracle, and I sigh. Holy hell, it’s like dealing with two kids who have no idea what they’re doing.

“Go talk to her. Come back and find me if you need me to explain how to tie your shoelaces or wipe your asses, too.”

I’m being an asshole and I know it, but they don’t seem to even hear me. They’re too busy bolting out the room like their asses are on fire.

“How about you?” I ask Iri. He’s not moved from his spot and is perusing one of Sin’s pages of notes while scribbling annotations of his own.

He raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Shouldn’t you be going after her, too?”

Honestly, it’s sometimes like talking to a bunch of aliens who have never encountered a woman before.

“I already knew everything she told us.” He looks at me like I’m the confused idiot here. “You think I spent close to a year searching for Saint Madison and didn’t pick up on her tricks? These gigs are going to be exactly what we need with Sin’s influence. Why do you think I wanted her so bad?”

“Uh, because you’re an obsessive demon who latched onto finding her and wouldn’t let it go?”

They’re probably words I should think but not speak, but I’ve never been any good at holding my tongue. Especially when one of my best friends is being an idiot. I reach over and flick his forehead, hoping maybe that’ll rattle something loose.

“Are you still pissy about what she did to you in the elevator? You can’t hold a grudge forever and you also can’t tell me it doesn’t feel right having her here,” he says.

He’s said as much before and once again, it makes me want to smack my head against the wall.

“Have you told her that? Or maybe had a conversation with her that’s not about work or the gig?” I ask.

“No. Should I have?” My point seems to be slowly sinking in. Iri’s eyes widen as he shifts forward in his seat. “You’re the one who always does the talking.”

I scoff. “Sure. When I’m getting some faceless groupie back to our hotel room to fuck.”

Iri and I have a routine. I charm them and fuck them, and if they’re into it, Iri watches too. He feeds off all of our collective lust and we all end the night satisfied.

“But this is different,” I tell him. “I’m not going to try to charm Sin for you.”

Partly because I’m scared she’d bite something off in the process.

Maybe I am still salty about our encounter in the elevator. But I’ve never been so fucking thoroughly dismissed like that. And then she went and messed with my brain.

Iri grunts, sounding way more like Cal than himself. “Yeah, sure.”

Was I attracted to her when I first caught sight of those big doe eyes looking up at me in the elevator? Sure.

Do I think she has a nice ass that’s just the right size and shape for me to grip? Again, yes .

But that’s just lust shit. I have zero issues filling my bed and indulging in sweaty, mindless fun.

Did I get confusingly hard from having her create those little badges for my mom’s shelter in a ridiculously short time? Yes. It gave me a chubby. And then having her throw them in my face made my dick fully hard.

But that means nothing.

“Does she know you’re secretly obsessed with her yet?” I ask Iri.

He shoots me a glare that should scare me. It’s like he’s trying to laser off my face with his eyes.

I shake my head, barely able to believe this is Iri, master plotter and planner. Quiet ruler of all of our lives,

Now he’s clueless. Stumped. Apparently losing his cool over one small woman.

He doesn’t even know her. He just decided one day he was obsessed with Saint Madison and that finding her was the solution to everything.

The long lonely nights. The endless touring. The way the four of us have been drifting further and further apart over the past couple of years.

I told him he was nuts, but he ignored me.

“How about you try talking to her? Join the two dickheads out there and try to get to know her and let her know you back. Good bits, bad bits, indifferent bits.”

“All the bits,” he mutters.

Then maybe he’ll shake off this obsession and we can move on to planning whatever the fuck comes next.

I’m cool with this being our final tour. Never say never and all that, but we’ll all be happy for an extended break.

Fuck, my body aches. I feel like I could nap for a week and it still wouldn’t be enough .

Iri nods, getting to his feet and brushing off imaginary dust from his pants. “Get to know her. I can do that.” He’s still muttering to himself as he heads out of the room, only pausing once he’s out the door and I don’t follow.

“You’re not coming?” he asks.

I shake my head. I can only hold their hands so much. “It’s all on you three.”

Fools.

As I pass the living room on the way to my room, I catch a hint of Sin snorting a laugh and brush past the sound, just like I’m brushing past how arguing with her has somehow been the most entertaining part of my month.

I head to my room to package up her badges, ready to send it to the trauma center where my mom works.

Alone. Just how I like it.

It takes me all of a minute to remember I actually fucking hate being alone. It feels like ants are crawling beneath my skin. If we were in the city, I’d head out and see if I could find someone to distract me for a few hours. Or I’d hang out with Cal and we’d watch a movie or shoot the shit.

But there’s nothing for miles and miles out here, and Cal’s busy right now. Caught up with Sin and there’s no way I’m going in there with them.

I’d like to fire up my bike from the garage and go for a long ride, but there’s something wrong with it and I haven’t had time to find someone to fix her up.

In the safety of my room, I slip off my shades and rub the bridge of my nose and my ears with a sigh.

It’s a temporary relief from being always guarded and ready in case my shades slip and my monstrous nature is exposed.

That’s why I stick to casual shit with my relationships these days. A quick fuck where I’m always behind her. No risk of being exposed.

No risks at all.