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“From the top.” He gaze flicked to me before he returned his attention to the music sheet

beside him.

That one gaze stabbed me through and through. A clean wound. I stood up straighter. I

refused to let Luka get to me. I offered, he turned me down. No hard feelings. I’d handled

worse assholes than him.

“We’re ready for you,” one of the guys in front of the board said into a microphone. Dray

counted out with his drumsticks and the discordant sounds of a song I hadn’t heard before

played out of the soundproof booth the band were in. Just when I thought I couldn’t get into

the song, the beautiful harmony of Phoenix’s and Luka’s voices enriched the experience. I did

nothing but stare. For the past two days, I slept to the songs of Vicious. This was the first

time I heard a duet from them and the emotions brought on by the combination of their

voices shook my core. Forget the lyrics. Just listening to Phoenix and Luka while they

complimented each other vocally almost brought me to tears.

I breathed in hard, willing the tears to subside. An inexplicable anger ravaged my thoughts.

Was I seriously jealous of Phoenix? Why? She was doing nothing but sing with Luka.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Yana said beside me.

I almost kissed her on the cheek for snapping me out of it. Of course Luka and Phoenix

would sing together. They were in a band together for crying out loud. Returning to my

senses, I took several pictures of the band in their creative element. All of them in

comfortable T-shirts and jeans and no one wore shoes. Interesting.

“Is this going in the new album?” I asked, snapping pictures of the music techs that Yana

introduced as Tommy and Andrew. They called themselves Luka’s protégés. I almost laughed

since both guys looked ten years older than the Vicious bassist. But I clearly heard the respect in their voices when they talked about and to Luka.

“Yes,” Yana nodded. “This is called Asylum. Luka’s been writing like a mad man lately.

Who would have thought all it took was…” She bit her lower lip.

“What?” I turned to her.

“We don’t like talking about it,” she leveled me with a serious stare, “and I’m only telling

you this because you’re under contract and cannot breathe a word of it, but Luka did have a

meltdown while on tour.”

The confirmation hit me in the weirdest way. A part of me wanted to run into the booth

and hug Luka, which was completely ludicrous. Another part of me wanted to know more.

But as someone who carried her own baggage, I knew why no one wanted to talk about it. A

meltdown was a big thing, especially to someone who lived in the public eye like Luka.

Reporters and tabloids alike would salivate at any piece of scandalous material. No wonder

Yana and the PR department wanted to keep things quiet.

Not taking my gaze away from Luka, I said, “Even if I wasn’t under contract, I wouldn’t say

anything. What happened to Luka is his business, not anyone else’s.”

“And that’s why I agreed to you doing this.”

My shock must have come across clearly on my face because Yana laughed.

“I knew that someone who flinched away from having her eye patch touched knew what it

meant to keep secrets,” she clarified after her laughter bubbled down. “And don’t worry.

When we conducted the background check, we stayed away from your medical records.”

Without thinking twice, I reached up and touched my patch. Luka’s words in the sitting

room the other night raised goose bumps up and down my arms. I shook my head against it

and chuckled.

“Thanks for that.” I eyed Yana. “I noticed no one asked about my patch that first night at

the dinner.”

“Why would they?” Yana tilted her head at me like she couldn’t understand where my

words came from. “Clearly you went through something terrible to bare the patch with as

much confidence as you do.” Then she pointed beyond the glass. “Each band member in there

has their own demons, Dakota. It would serve your project well to remember that.”

I nodded, taking her words to heart. Yana gave me an opportunity to get to know each of

the members, and I promised myself I wouldn’t waste it.

The song ended and Luka spoke through the speakers again. “Let’s set up to record Poison

next.”

My heart sped up like an Indy 500 car. I hadn’t heard that song since they debuted it on

Crescent City Today. Since my internet access was restricted while at Lunar Manor, I couldn’t

download a copy. To hear the song again today excited me.

“Can I get a copy?” I asked brazenly.

“Like it, huh?” Yana elbowed me playfully.

I shrugged, playing things down. “I would have bought a copy if my access wasn’t

restricted.”

“Tommy, give Dakota here a copy, will you?” Yana winked at me before she faced the band.

Luka stood in front of the microphone now while Phoenix and Demitri traded places. “Luka’s

been through a lot,” she said as if to herself. “Writing songs is like a drug for him. There are ups and there are certainly downs. No matter how cathartic he says the process is, sometimes

the fallout is devastating. That’s why we’re very protective of him. But it seems you being

here is good for him.”

“Huh?” Okay that got confusing fast. My already hammering heart bounced around in my

ribcage. “What does this have to do with me?”

“To be honest, I don’t know yet.” She crossed her hands. A deep crease formed between

her eyebrows. “But, since he brought you here, something in Luka’s manner eased. Since

coming back to the States he’s been withdrawn and tense. After that night at Sacrifice,

everyone in the band breathed easier.”

“O-kay.” I scratched my neck. “That’s way too much information.” I couldn’t put myself in

that crazy mind space. Whatever was going on with Luka had nothing to do with me despite

what Yana said. I had to get down to business. “Since I pretty much know my way around, I

think I can start interacting with the band members one by one.”

“Who do you plan to start with?” Yana angled her body toward me but didn’t remove her

watchful gaze from the band. Luka was currently talking to all of them, probably giving them

instructions. He seemed the perfectionist type to me.

“I’m thinking Dray. He’d be the easiest,” I said. Yana’s snort deflated my confidence.

“Something tells me I should get ready for some weird shit, huh?”

“Oh, honey,” Yana patted my shoulder, “you haven’t seen anything yet. We’ve pretty much

left you alone because we wanted you to get accustomed to your surroundings. Now it’s time

to get back to our normal routine. Two days is more than enough time, don’t you think?”

Nervous knots twisted my stomach. “Are you saying my wandering Lunar Manor in peace

is because you left me alone for two days?”

She licked her lips like she was about to take a bite of something, and I involuntarily took

a step back.

“I told you before signing the contract that you should really think about it. You’re in our

world now, Dakota.”

Cue thunder, lightning, and maniacal laughter. I backed into the door just as the band

began playing the first chords of Poison.

“What about your copy?” Yana asked too innocently for my taste.

“I’ll pick it up at dinner. Thanks!” Not caring that they were recording, I opened the door.

My heart pumped like a tight fist in my chest. Yana’s aura in there sent prickly spider feet

crawling up my spine. I had to remind myself to take measured steps instead of bolting out of

there at full speed. Predators ran after prey.

If Alice thought Wonderland was twisted, it had nothing on Lunar Manor.

Chapter Fifteen

Madness

The next day, I mustered up the courage to explore the third floor, i.e. enter Dray’s

domain. We’d spoken over dinner last night about my paying him a visit. He said he would be

expecting me after breakfast. Since I usually woke up in the afternoons after a long night of

work, I wasn’t too sure if Dray meant his breakfast or mine.

Knowing I had a weird time schedule, I took a nap around four in the morning and got up

right around seven. I called Deidra for extra black coffee and some pancakes. Once I’d wolfed

those down, I asked for directions to Dray’s rooms. Deidra had this weird smile on her face

while she gave me instructions on where to go. I wanted to ask her about it, but was too

afraid of the answer. Chickening out was out of the question, even if my conversation with

Yana at the studio yesterday freaked me out.

Luka still hadn’t said a word to me. He wouldn’t even come within a meter of me. I didn’t

get what was going on between us, but I promised myself I would clear the air after my visit

with the band’s resident mad scientist.

I climbed the steps toward the third floor, feeling like Belle when she separated herself

from Cogsworth and Lumiere to explore the beast’s room. With my trusty camera, I told

myself Dray was a hundred times tamer than the beast. Surely he wouldn’t hurt me. Right?

At the top of the steps, I shook crazy thoughts out of my head. At the dinners something

was off about Dray, but I liked his company. He seemed the most naturally expressive of the

band. Well, except when he was behind a drum set. Only then did he withdraw into a deep

place. Seeing him out of that element sparked a reckless excitement in me. It helped stamp

down my fears when I took a left and followed the hallway to the very end.

At the solid wooden door that had an overhead lamp that cast a spotlight on the threshold,

I paused and raised my fist. I swallowed, reminding myself what I was at Lunar Manor for.

Sometimes I forgot because of everything that happened around me. Living with the band felt

like living away from the real world. I needed to focus. Needed to get the shots that would

catapult my career.

Before my knuckles made contact with the door, a voice behind it said, “You’re late!”

I flinched. I’d left my room at eight sharp. Surely it hadn’t been ten minutes since then.

“I’m sorry?”

“What for?” The voice behind the door sounded nearer now.

The tip of my eyebrow twitched. “For being late? I didn’t know when you usually had

breakfast,” I quickly added. “I’m usually asleep at this time of day.”

The door flew open, revealing a wild-haired Dray. “Chronic insomnia left untreated

increases risk of alcohol abuse,” he said then waved me in. “C’mon.”

“I’ll keep that in mind?” Why the hell was I speaking in questions? Seconds in his

presence and already Dray threw me for a loop. This was gonna be an interesting day.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked deeper into his room. Or at least

I thought it was his room. But a couple of steps in I had to reevaluate my definition of room.

What should have been the living area was littered with stainless steel tables instead of

couches. The kind found in a Chemistry lab. And on top of the tables were beakers and test

tubes and Bunsen burners among other stuff I didn’t recognized. I cursed myself for not

paying more attention in Chemistry class. I always hated lab because of my patch. My lack of

depth perception meant I broke more than my fair share of test tubes. I kept over shooting

the rack when putting the glass tube into the hole. Eventually, my lab partner took over all

the heavy lifting and I was forced to take notes. Not that I complained.

Now, being among the bubbling multi-colored chemicals, I kept my hands close to my

chest and my arms tight against my sides. Who knew what a stray elbow could do? I stayed

perfectly in the middle of the paths between the tables, taking careful steps. I got the sense that one misstep and I could collide with something that might alter my genetic makeup. I

didn’t need an extra arm today, thank you very much. If I could make myself smaller, I would

have.

Dray walked on without a care, confident in where he was going. The florescent lamps

above us gave the place a bright yet eerie air. Luka was right. His cousin did have a mad

scientist in him. It was disconcerting to see Dray in a different environment.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said over his shoulder as if he smelled my fear. “I’m not cooking

Meth or anything dangerous. Well…” He paused and scratched his head then pointed toward

one table. “Except that table. The chemicals there might be dangerous if disturbed.”

I took note of the table he pointed at and made a mental note to avoid it at all costs.

Thankfully, it stayed at a far corner. I didn’t see myself wandering toward that section any

time soon.

My tightened grip on my camera reminded me of my job. I lifted it so I saw Dray through

the viewfinder and took a picture of him pouring the contents of two test tubes into a beaker

then swirling it to mix everything together.

“What are you working on?” I decided to engage him in conversation. Most subjects

relaxed into the shoot more if the photographer spoke to them about whatever they were

doing at the time. Bringing out interests worked just as well too. Hobbies. Whatever. Just get them talking and you get the most natural shots.

“I hate the glow in the dark paint in the market,” he said, taking a glass rod and using it to mix further what was already in the beaker he focused on. “So I said why not make some of

my own?”

My eyebrow lifted over the viewfinder. Of course! Why not make your own glow in the

dark paint? I may have severely underestimated the real intelligence of the band members. I