Unforgiven fallen book 5, p.23
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Unforgiven (Fallen Book 5), page 23

 

Unforgiven (Fallen Book 5)
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  “But I would know,” Lilith said.

  Cam sat down on the vanity, facing Lilith. He touched her chin and said softly, “We just go out there and do our best.”

  “What if my best isn’t good enough?” Lilith asked, looking down. “What if this was all a mistake?”

  Cam put his hands on her shoulders. “The measure of this band is not a three-minute performance at prom. The measure of this band is all the steps it took us to get here. You writing those songs. Us learning to play them together. All our practices. Our trip to the Salvation Army. The lyrics contest you won.”

  He looked from Lilith to Jean to Luis and found them hanging on his words, so he kept going. “It’s the fact that we all actually like each other now. And every time you threw me out of the band. And every time you graciously let me back in. That’s Revenge. As long as we remember that, nothing can stop us.” He took a deep breath, hoping the others didn’t notice the tremor in his voice. “And if we don’t succeed, at least we’ll have had this time together. Even if this is the end, it was worth it to get to play with you for a little while.”

  Lilith tilted her head at Cam and gazed deep into his eyes. She mouthed something Cam didn’t quite catch. His heart soared as he leaned close to her lips.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said thank you. I feel better now. I’m ready.”

  Well, that was something. But would it be enough?

  Cam lifted his guitar off its stand. “Let’s go.”

  The four members of Revenge gathered in a corner of the wings, instruments tucked under their arms. They were all supposed to enter from stage left, and there were no curtains separating the various acts, so the performers just huddled in little cliques. There was a certain electricity backstage, made of nerves and anticipation and hair spray. Everyone could feel it.

  From behind the curtain, Cam peeked out at the crowd on the dance floor. With the stage lights off, he could see them clearly. They were restless but excited, jostling each other, flirting, giggling over nothing, one boy bodysurfing through the mass of kids. Even the faculty hovering at the edges of the crowd seemed cheerful. Cam knew a band was lucky to have an audience in this mood. They wanted something from the show, something that matched their own energy that night, which was supercharged.

  At the judges’ table to the right of the stage, Tarkenton was trying to converse with four punk-rock boys. Cam had almost forgotten that Ike Ligon was judging this thing, and he was amused to see what passed for a “rock star” in Lilith’s Hell. The lead singer of the band was pouty enough, with spiky blond hair and long, lean limbs, but the other three looked like they had about two brain cells between them. Cam reminded himself that this was Lilith’s favorite band and told himself that maybe they looked better onstage.

  A flash of movement behind the judges’ table caught Cam’s attention. Arriane and Roland were there, setting up folding chairs for Lilith’s mother and brother. Arriane caught Cam’s eye and pointed: Look up. He glanced overhead and was cheered to see that she had somehow hung the disco ball from the rafters above the stage.

  He looked back to Arriane and gestured his applause. Nice, he mouthed. Cam thought of all that his friends had done for him last night at Rattlesnake Creek, and wondered if he could have gotten this far with Lilith without them.

  Roland looked up at the stars, worry straining his smooth brow. Cam’s gaze followed his friend’s. The starlight, which seemed strangely bright tonight, wasn’t starlight at all. Instead, Lucifer’s demons had gathered high in the firmament above. It was their eyes that shone like stars through the wildfire smoke. Cam bristled, knowing they were here to see what would become of him. The Trumbull kids weren’t the only ones eager for a big performance tonight.

  The houselights went out.

  The crowd fell silent as a spotlight found Luc. He had changed into a blue pin-striped suit, wing-tip shoes, and a fuchsia pocket square. He held a gold-plated microphone and smiled at a teleprompter.

  “Welcome to the Trumbull prom,” his voice boomed. Whoops rose from the audience until Luc waved one hand and silenced the crowd. “I am honored to play a role in this momentous occasion. I know you’re all eager to know who will be crowned prom king and queen. Coach Burroughs is backstage now, tallying your votes. First, we will commence with the much-anticipated Battle of the Bands.”

  “We love you, Chloe!” a few kids screamed from the front row.

  “Some of the bands you’ll hear are fan favorites,” Luc said. “Some are relative unknowns, even to their relatives…” He waited for laughter, but instead, a half-full can of soda landed at his feet.

  “Some,” Luc continued, his voice darkening, “have never stood a chance.” He turned and winked at Cam. “Here to fire the first shot, Love and Idleness!”

  The audience sounded its approval as two sophomore girls dragged stools onto the stage. They looked like sisters, with dark skin, freckles, and pale blue eyes. One had white-blond curls and the other had a dyed black bob. They raised their ukuleles.

  Cam was impressed to recognize the opening chords of an obscure folk song that had been passed down through time in dark speakeasies. It was called “Silver Dagger,” and the first time he’d heard it had been a couple of hundred years ago, aboard a boat being tossed around a high sea in heavy blackness.

  “She’s badass,” Jean said.

  “Which one?” Luis said.

  “Both of ’em,” Jean said.

  “You have a girlfriend,” Luis said.

  “Shhh,” Jean said.

  Cam tried to catch Lilith’s eye, but she was locked in on the performance.

  Love and Idleness was good and seemed to know it. But they would never know how well they had chosen their song, or that they were singing to ten thousand pairs of immortal ears that had been present when the song was first performed off the Barbary Coast. Cam knew some of the demons would be chanting along from above.

  He stood behind Lilith, wrapped his arms around her waist, and swayed, singing softly in her ear.

  “My daddy is a handsome devil…”

  “You know this song?” Lilith asked, turning her head slightly so her cheek brushed Cam’s lips. “It’s catchy.”

  “Lilith,” he said, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  Now she turned fully, as if she could hear the intensity in his voice.

  “I don’t know if it’s the right time, but I have to let you know that—”

  “Hey,” a voice interrupted Cam, and a moment later Luc shoved Cam aside to stand in front of Lilith. “Have you kids signed the waiver yet? Every performer has to sign the waiver.”

  Lilith glanced at the densely printed document. “What’s it say? It’s hard to read in here.”

  “Just that you won’t sue King Media, and that we can use your image for promotional materials after the show.”

  “Really, Luc?” Cam said. “We have to do this right now?”

  “Can’t go onstage unless you do.”

  Cam speed-read the document to make sure he wasn’t locking himself into any darker deal with Lucifer. It seemed, though, that it was nothing but a way to interrupt the moment. Cam dashed out his signature. “It’s fine,” he told Lilith, and watched as she signed, too.

  Cam shoved the documents back at Lucifer, who slipped them in his pocket and grinned. By then, the performance was over and the applause for Love and Idleness had diminished.

  Luc strode back onto the stage. “Provocative.” He smirked. “Without further ado, our next band: Death of the Author!”

  The crowd cheered weakly as a short kid named Jerry and his three friends strutted onto the stage. Cam cringed as Jerry tried to adjust the shared drum kit to fit his small stature. After a few painful moments, Lilith nudged Cam.

  “We should help them,” she said.

  Cam was surprised, but of course Lilith was right. She really was different from the angry loner girl she’d been two weeks ago.

  “Good idea,” Cam said as they hurried onstage to help adjust the height of the drums.

  When the instruments were tuned and the band was counting off, Lilith and Cam slipped back to the wings. Lilith didn’t seem to care how bad Death of the Author was. She was simply happy to have helped a fellow musician. But she was the only one who was happy. Jean squirmed miserably as Jerry belted out the lyrics to a song called “Amalgamator.”

  “He doesn’t even know what an amalgamator is,” Jean said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah,” Luis said. “Totally. Um…what is an amalgamator?”

  The audience was bored before the first verse ended. People booed and drifted away to buy sodas, but Death of the Author didn’t notice. At the end of the song, Jerry embraced the mic, nearly falling over with adrenaline. “We love you, Crossroads!”

  As Jerry and his band left the stage, Luc returned to it. “Our next act is already well-known throughout town,” he said into the mic. “I give you the lovely and talented Perceived Slights!”

  Applause echoed throughout the Colosseum as the crowd went wild.

  Cam and Lilith peeked through the curtain to see the popular crowd from Trumbull all but rushing the stage. They were screaming, girls hoisted up on their dates’ shoulders, chanting Chloe’s name. Cam took Lilith’s hand. Even if she had smoothed some things over with Chloe, it must be hard for her not to envy the reception the Perceived Slights were getting.

  “You okay?” Cam asked, but the crowd was too loud for Lilith to hear him.

  Luis gave Karen Walker a pat on the butt as she dashed out from behind the curtain to check the Perceived Slights’ amp connections. Fog from a few buckets full of dry ice filled the stage, and a few moments later Chloe King and her band emerged from the wings.

  They were pros. They beamed and waved into the stage lights, finding their places at their mics as if they’d played a thousand shows bigger than this. They wore matching white stilettos and leather minidresses in a variety of colors, their pastel pink prom-court sashes draped over their dresses. Chloe’s dress was buttercup yellow, to match her solid-gold glittery eye shadow.

  “The feeling is mutual, Trumbull!” Chloe shouted.

  The crowd roared.

  Chloe pouted and leaned seductively into the mic. The crowd was mesmerized, but all Cam could do was watch Lilith. She was leaning forward, chewing her nails. He knew she was comparing herself to Chloe—not just to the way the audience responded, but to the way Chloe grabbed the mic with the flick of a wrist, the way her voice filled the Colosseum, the passion she brought to her guitar.

  If he could hold Lilith one more time before they played, Cam was convinced that he could make her see that this performance wasn’t about competing with Chloe. It was about what she and Cam had together. He could say the three words that had been burning in him for fifteen days, and her response would tell him whether they had a chance.

  Three little words. Would she say them? They would determine both Cam and Lilith’s fate.

  But before he had a chance to reach for her, Cam felt Jean come stand on his left, then Luis stand on his right. Cam felt the energy coming off of them and realized Chloe’s song was over and the crowd was cheering and Lilith was tilting her head toward the sky, maybe praying for good luck. Because Revenge was about to go on, and it was all about their music now.

  The Colosseum went dark except for the pinhole spotlight on Luc’s eyes as he stood in the center of the stage. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

  “Are you ready for Revenge?”

  Two Hours

  Center stage.

  Deep darkness.

  Lilith cupped the cold mic in her hands. Then a blinding spotlight shone on her, and the audience disappeared.

  She glanced up at the twinkling disco ball suspended from the rafters. If it hadn’t been for Cam, Lilith would have been alone tonight, writing songs in her bedroom. She wouldn’t be at prom, facing a packed dance floor, nodding at her bandmates, about to rock.

  She ignored her quaking knees, her pounding heart. She took a long breath and felt the weight of her guitar across her chest, the light fabric of her gown. “Two, three, four,” she counted off into the mic.

  She heard the drums, sudden as a downpour. Her fingers caressed her guitar strings in a slow, sad riff, then exploded into the song.

  Cam’s guitar found hers in the maelstrom, and they played as if it were their last night on earth, as if the fate of the universe depended on how they sounded together. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was living her dream. She closed her eyes and sang.

  “I dreamed life was a dream

  Someone was having in my eyes…”

  Her song sounded the way she’d always hoped it might someday. She opened her eyes and turned back to Jean Rah and Luis. Both of them were completely absorbed in the music. She nodded at Cam across the stage, strumming his guitar skillfully, keeping his eyes on her. He was smiling. She’d never realized how much she loved the way he smiled at her.

  When she turned back to the audience to play the second verse, she caught a quick glimpse of her brother and her mother. They were standing apart from the crowd, but they were dancing with abandon.

  Lilith could hardly hear herself above the audience’s cheers. She spun away from the microphone to jam, arching her back, letting her fingers fly across the strings. This was joy. There was nothing but Lilith, her band, and their music.

  After the bridge she reached for the microphone again, and on the last verse Cam joined her, finding harmonies they’d never even practiced.

  Lilith lifted her arm and stopped playing, pausing before the final couplet of the song. Jean, Luis, and Cam stopped, too.

  The audience screamed louder.

  When her arm came down on the final chord, the band fell in with her, right on time, and every voice in the audience screamed.

  There was only one thing to do when the song was over. She rushed toward Cam and grabbed his hand. She wanted to be with him when they bowed. Because without him, she wouldn’t be here. None of this would have happened.

  He reached for her. He smiled. They held hands and moved downstage.

  Hold on, Lilith found herself saying to Cam’s hand. Hold on to me, just like this. Don’t let go.

  “Lilith rules!” A voice rose over the applause. Lilith thought it sounded like Arriane.

  “Long live the queen!” called another voice that might have belonged to Roland.

  “Take a bow, rock star,” Cam murmured into her ear.

  “Take it with me.”

  Elation swept through Lilith as she and Cam bent forward. The motion felt natural, as if she and Cam had been touring forever, bowing to rapt audiences all their lives. Maybe this was reverse déjà vu, and she was experiencing what the future held.

  She hoped so. She wanted to play again with Cam, and soon.

  She turned to him. He turned to her.

  Before she knew it their lips almost—

  “Save it for the after-party,” Luc’s voice boomed as he hurried onto the stage to stand between them, pushing them apart.

  The stage lights dimmed, and Lilith could see the audience again. They were all still cheering. Arriane, Roland, Bruce, and her mother had moved to the front row and were hooting like Lilith was an actual rock star. She felt like one.

  Security guards held kids back as they tried to rush the stage. Even Principal Tarkenton was clapping. Lilith saw the empty seats next to him and realized that the Four Horsemen must be backstage right now, preparing to close out the night.

  The battle had already been so epic, it seemed insane that Lilith was now about to see her favorite band.

  “Quite a night, eh?” Luc asked the audience. “And there’s more to come!”

  Two ponytailed guys in crew T-shirts guided the other competing bands back onto the stage. Chloe bounded over to Lilith and slung an arm around her waist.

  “Nice job,” she said. “Even if I was better.”

  “Thanks.” Lilith laughed. “The Slights were great, too.”

  Chloe nodded. “That’s how we roll.”

  “Settle down,” Luc said, motioning for quiet. “Winners and losers must be determined.”

  Lilith fidgeted between Chloe and Cam. Tarkenton was mounting the stairs to the stage, carrying an envelope and a trophy topped with a golden guitar.

  “Have the esteemed judges reached a decision?” Luc asked.

  Tarkenton tapped the mic. He seemed as stunned by the performances as Lilith. “The winner of the Battle of the Bands, sponsored by King Media, is—”

  A synthesized drumroll blared through the stadium speakers. A sudden competitive surge filled Lilith. Their band had killed it tonight. They knew it. The audience knew it. Even Chloe King knew it. If there was any justice in this world—

  Luc grabbed the envelope from Tarkenton. “The Perceived Slights!”

  Then Chloe’s band was screaming, crying, pushing everyone else out of the spotlight.

  “Next stop, prom queen,” Chloe squealed, and hugged her friends.

  Lilith’s ears were ringing as Chloe accepted the trophy. Only moments before she had been having the night of her life. Now she felt brutally defeated.

  “Sucks,” Jean Rah said.

  Luis kicked a stage marker. “We were better.”

  Lilith knew Cam was watching her, but she was too dumbfounded to meet his gaze. She’d felt like their song had changed the world.

  It hadn’t.

  She felt ridiculous that she’d let herself believe otherwise.

  “Hey,” Cam’s voice was in her ear. “You okay?”

 
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