and surprise. He pushed the whole band to a new level, and he could tell they loved it.
As they drove through one Jethro Tull classic after another, from "Locomotive Breath" to "Thick as a Brick," all four musicians grinned with rare and predatory intensity. It wasn't just a run-of-the-mill gig.
Too bad hardly anyone was there to see it.
The bar, a downtown Tucson dive joint called Halcyon, was tiny...and nowhere near full. Not counting the bartender, Jonah didn't see more than ten people in the room at the same time that night.
But he played for those ten people like he was playing for a full house. Like he was playing with something to prove.
Something to forget.
The audience, small as it was, definitely caught the vibe and egged on the band. It was the kind of give-and-take that Jonah thrived on, with band and audience equally focused and serious and unified.
And some were more focused than others. One, in particular, was focused hard on Jonah.
She looked twenty-something, with shoulder-length blonde hair and impossibly bright blue eyes. A tight-fitting white tank top and black leather skirt hugged the curves of her perfectly sloped and rounded body.
If she ever took her eyes off Jonah, he didn't see it happen. She watched every move he made and locked eyes with him every time he looked out at her.
She didn't seem to be with anyone. She just stood with a bottle of beer in her hand, six feet away from Jonah, dancing to every single song with supple, undulating movements.
Which, naturally, made him play with even more fire. He had a pretty good idea what might be coming next.
Sure enough, at the end of the first set, the girl made a beeline for him. With a silent, knowing smile, she wrapped his hand in her own and led him out the back door into the alley outside.
Then, she closed the door behind them and pinned him against the wall.
Jonah's heart pounded as she flexed her body against his. Her hands, where they locked his wrists to the wall, were cold, but her gaze was filled with heat.
"You were amazing in there." Her throaty voice was a purr. "I am so turned on right now."
"I know the feeling." Jonah grinned. Playing with the band had taken his mind off his troubles a little. Maybe the blonde would take his mind the rest of the way off, if only for a while.
Without another word, the girl moved in for a kiss. Jonah's heart beat even faster as he finally made the contact he'd been anticipating for so long.
But the kiss was not quite what he'd expected.
The girl's lips were freezing cold, as if she'd just eaten ice cream or gone swimming. There wasn't the slightest trace of warmth anywhere in her kiss.
Jonah pulled back. "Are you chilly?" Even as he asked the question, he couldn't imagine that she could possibly feel cold in that alley. It was a hot desert night in Tucson, probably in the nineties...plus which, heat was rolling off an air conditioning unit in the window a few yards away.
"Low blood pressure. But we can fix that." The girl moved in for another kiss. Her fingers latched onto his belt buckle.
"We need you," said the girl.
We? That was when Jonah realized something wasn't right.
He suddenly felt much hotter than he thought he should. His lower body, in fact, was quickly becoming uncomfortable, as if he were standing too close to a hot stove.
Jonah looked down...and immediately wished he hadn't.
He'd never seen anything like it. Thin streams of blood projected from the tops of his legs--a dozen streams per leg punching right through his clothing. They met in a glistening red veil that hung suspended in midair, rippling mere inches from the girl's face. As Jonah watched, new streams burst from his legs and added their crimson liquid to the veil.
"What the hell ?" said Jonah. "What are you doing ?"
But the girl did not answer.
Get out of here. Now.
Jonah was in for another shock when he tried to escape: his hands were stuck to the wall, and his feet were locked to the floor of the
Matt Christopher, Stephanie Peters