Blood and Guitars (38 page)

I led him over to a large piece of driftwood
and sat down. Trey sat next to me, burying his toes in the sand.
“Look,” I said. “I haven’t mentioned this because you’ve had enough
to deal with, but I was wondering just how upset the guys would be
if I came on the road with you.”

His eyes bore into mine and I thought I saw a
glimmer of hope in their blue depths. “Are you serious?” he asked
in surprise, unable to hide the smile that was playing on his lips.
“You would do that?”

“It’s going to be a big adjustment,” I said,
agreeing with his earlier concerns. “You’ll need someone to help
you through it. Plus, you’ll also need fresh blood every few days
like I mentioned, and finding donors might be difficult at times.
Your maker is really the only vampire you can drink from and I
thought…” I bit my lip, watching him. “Unless you don’t think it’s
a good idea.”

He stared at me, but I couldn’t read his
expression. “No, it’s not that. I … I just don’t see how I could
ask you to pack up your life and come on the road,” he said.

“I need to do it,” I insisted. “Call it
redemption for putting you through all this. For Wes … for
everything. It’s the least I can do.”

“But what about your art? The Waking Moon? I
could never ask you to leave all that behind.”

“As you well know, I can haul my supplies and
an easel just about anywhere and paint to my heart’s desire. As for
The Waking Moon … I have Kacie to run things for me here. I’ll just
supply her with pieces from the road. It’ll be a little tricky but
I think it’s doable. And besides, you’re not asking. I’m offering …
if you’ll have me.”

He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me to
his chest. “I can’t imagine anything better than having you by my
side.” His voice was muffled in my hair. I laughed softly, relieved
that he wasn’t rejecting me, and enjoyed the feel of his hand
running over my hair. “Plus, I don’t want to do this without
you.”

“I’d hate to see you try,” I said.

“Guess you and I will need a separate bus,
huh?” he said, pulling back to show me his lazy half-smile. “The
guys are gonna think I’ve lost my mind.”

I gave him a quick kiss before resting my
head in the crook of his neck. “You’re in love with a vampire. You
have definitely lost your mind.”

Two days later I was sitting at the snack bar
in my kitchen while Aurora opened the lower oven to check on the
garlic bread that was baking there.

“Don’t vampires have a thing with garlic?” I
asked.

She dipped her finger in what was left of the
garlic butter she’d spread all over the French bread and sucked it
off. “I still can’t figure out where that rumor started.”

I smiled and said, “You really don’t have to
do this, you know.”

“I know.” She grinned at me and wiped her
hands on a towel. “Apparently somebody has to intervene to get all
of you guys together to deal with what happened to Wes. I’m
determined to help you all get past this, even if it means I have
to pretend that I can still cook my dad’s lasagna.”

“There doesn’t seem to be any pretending
involved.” She’d tossed all the ingredients into the grocery cart
at the supermarket like it hadn’t been more than a week since she’d
cooked this particular dish, although she insisted it had been more
like five years.

“It’s the photographic memory,” she said
casually. “It works with recipes, too.”

“It smells great. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve tasted it.”

I was tempted to ask where she’d gone when
she’d left to feed last night. She’d only been gone about twenty
minutes, which seemed pretty fast considering she’d had to find
someone to feed from. In the end I decided not to ask. I was still
getting used to the idea of vampires being real. I wasn’t sure I
could handle hearing the details of how my girlfriend had sucked
blood from someone just yet.

I admired Aurora as she bustled around in my
kitchen, looking entirely too domesticated for the lethal beauty
that she was. My mind wandered back to conversation I’d had with my
mom a few hours before. She’d called to see how I was doing. She
knew Wes’s death was hard on me and she wanted to fly down for the
funeral, but she was coming down with the flu and I insisted she
stay home and take care of herself. I’d told her about Aurora a
little while back, but of course she didn’t know my new girlfriend
was a vampire. She asked if she could say hi to Aurora and I’d
handed my phone over to her to let them talk. They’d chatted for
almost twenty minutes, Aurora assuring my mom that she was taking
good care of me. Since I’m the only thing they have in common, I
was pretty much the topic of conversation until the call ended, but
I didn’t mind. The fact that my mom and Aurora could talk like that
when they’d never even met was definitely a good sign. It made
things that much easier, knowing that the woman I would be spending
eternity with got along with my mother.

I was only pulled from my thoughts when
Aurora turned to look toward the front door an instant before
Cowboy started barking. “They’re here.” She waved me toward the
door and I grinned and got down from the stool to answer it.

“Hey,” O’Shea said as I opened the door.

“Hey guys. Come on in,” I said, stepping back
to let them in. None of us had seen each other since the police
station. I knew Aurora was right; we needed to deal with Wes’s
death as a group. The truth was that I was afraid getting together
to talk about Wes would only make it that much more real. The guys
filed in the house and Jonas scooped Cowboy up into his arms and
held him just out of licking distance.

“Something smells good,” Chase added as I
closed the door behind him.

“That’s the smell of real food,” O’Shea said,
slapping Chase on the back.

“You cooked?” Jonas asked, scratching behind
Cowboy’s left ear before setting him down again.

“If it had been up to me you’d all be eating
take-out tonight. You have Aurora to thank for saving you from
that.”

We rounded the corner and walked into the
kitchen where Aurora was setting the table.

“You’re just in time,” Aurora said with a
smile. “The lasagna is almost finished. Have a seat.”

“Lasagna,” Chase said longingly, patting his
stomach.

We all sat around the table, except for
Aurora who insisted that I sit down and relax while she brought the
food out. There was a moment of silence while she went to the oven
to get the lasagna. It wasn’t an awkward silence, necessarily, but
it was obvious we were all ignoring the gihugic elephant in the
room.

I wasn’t the only one relieved when Aurora
returned with a big pan of lasagna. We all started dishing the food
out while Aurora went back to the oven to get the garlic bread. She
sat in the empty seat next to me and gave me an encouraging smile.
Once everyone had a plate of food, the conversation was easier and
naturally turned toward Wes. We talked about how we’d first met
him, and the day we’d signed legal documents to make him our
manager. We laughed about all the times we’d pranked Wes on the
road, and how he’d never really managed to get even. We had a lot
of fond memories of Wes. We’d known him for years, and trusted him
with our entire careers, and he’d never disappointed us. In another
moment of silence while we all at least pretended to be chewing a
bite of food, O’Shea finally broached the subject.

“It’s hard to believe he’s actually gone,” he
said, staring down at his plate.

There were several mumbled “Yeahs” including
my own before O’Shea looked up again.

“I don’t think its hit me yet,” Chase
added.

“Me neither,” Jonas added.

Then my brothers all looked to me, awaiting a
response. I felt Aurora’s supportive hand on my knee under the
table. I cleared my throat.

“I … uh … I’ve been in denial since it
happened.” In some ways it was the truth. The memory of holding
Wes’s lifeless body in the pouring rain, of pumping his chest, was
something I had been pushing to the back of my mind. If I thought
too hard about it, about how real it had been, the finality of it,
I’d only find new reasons to blame myself for Wes being dead.

“You haven’t heard anything more from the
police, have you?” O’Shea asked me. I shook my head. “What if
whoever did this to Wes was really after you?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, too.” Chase
added. “They could still be after you.”

“Don’t worry about me, guys,” I said. “I’ll
be fine. Really.”

“Sure, man. Whatever you say,” O’Shea spoke
confidently, but I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t so
sure.

Jonas, who had been quietly chewing a bite of
garlic bread, asked the dreaded question. “What are we going to do
without him?”

My stomach dropped and I took a sip of water
to drown the sick feeling that was rising in me.

“Where do we even start?” O’Shea asked. “Wes
handled … well, pretty much everything.”

“We just have to keep going,” I said at last.
“That’s what Wes would want us to do. First things first, we finish
the record. We’re nearly done anyway.” I forced my voice to sound
calm and determined. “We finish recording and then we dedicate the
album to Wes. We’re still the same guys who managed to get a record
deal just out of high school. We can do this. And it’s not like
we’re alone. We still have Ken, and we still have the label behind
us.”

“We’re going to need someone to take over
Wes’s responsibilities,” O’Shea stated somberly.

I sighed. I hadn’t wanted to be the one to
bring up replacing Wes, but O’Shea was right. “Next week we’ll
start work on the record again. We can interview new managers while
we do it,” I said.

Everyone nodded in silent agreement. I looked
over at Aurora who gave me a small smile. She’d been right about us
needing to get together tonight to face the situation as a group.
We were strong and we’d manage somehow. I leaned over and kissed
her on the cheek, hoping that she knew how much it meant to me that
she was here. The uncertainty of my future loomed before me, hazy
and full of shadows. Aurora was the only thing in focus. She was
the light. She was the one who would anchor me through the storm
that would only end with a full moon and a new beginning.

Wes’s funeral took place just four days after
I’d found him in my front yard dead. The Florida sun beat down in
direct contrast to the setting and the mood. Aurora stood next to
me in a little black dress, gripping my left hand during the
graveside service. O’Shea, Jonas and Chase were all standing on my
right. Lisa sat with Wes’s mother and father in front of the crowd
that had come to honor him. Ken and Serena stood just behind me,
along with the head of Celebrity Dent and his entourage.

As the priest who was leading the small
service talked about how death is really just a new beginning, my
mind wandered to the bag of letters sitting at my feet. The record
label had brought the bag of letters which were written by Catalyst
fans who shared fond memories of Wes. He’d always been good to the
fans, doing what he could to get as many people as close to us as
possible. The rest of the guys and I would present the letters to
Lisa and Wes’s family after the service.

The media buzzed about Wes’s death. Aurora
and I couldn’t leave my house without spotting photographers
lurking up and down the street. Some of them were so bold as to
walk right up to us and put microphones in our faces asking
questions about Wes. O’Shea, Chase and Jonas were all experiencing
the same thing. Two weekly magazines had already printed cover
stories about the ordeal and all the local news stations were
talking about Wes and the band. Wes would have hated all the fuss,
which is why the rest of the guys and I had turned down an
invitation to hold a press conference about him. We did want the
world to know what he’d meant to us, though, as a band manager and
as a friend, so we’d gotten together the day before and written a
statement about Wes and how much he would be missed. When we’d
finished, O’Shea had given it Celebrity Dent’s P.R. guy to release
to the media, and for the head of our fan club to post on our
website for all the fans to read.

The priest finished speaking then, and Lisa
and Wes’s parents had their turn laying flowers on the casket.
Aurora squeezed my hand and then gestured for me to go forward
while she waited with Jonas’s sister. The guys and I walked forward
and added the roses we’d been wearing as honorary pallbearers to
the arrangement of flowers on top of Wes’s casket. We stood
together there for a moment in silence, and I fought against the
tears that stung my eyes.

“We’re going to miss you, man,” O’Shea said
softly, speaking for all of us. I bit my bottom lip and put my hand
on his shoulder. The tightness in my throat made it almost
impossible to speak. After a moment Aurora stepped up next to me,
laying a rose on the casket and taking my hand in hers. I gave her
hand a squeeze, feeling like I could breathe a little easier with
her at my side.

Chase picked up the bag of letters and we all
walked to where Lisa was standing with Wes’s family. Fresh tears
ran down Lisa’s cheeks as she greeted us with genuine appreciation.
We hugged Wes’s mother, who on more than one occasion had made sure
we were all well-fed and rested during the recording of our first
record. We shook hands with Wes’s father, surprised as always by
how much Wes looked like him. We spoke with Lisa and Mr. and Mrs.
Leavy for quite some time, sharing fond memories of being with Wes.
Chase gave the bag of letters to them with the promise that we’d
make sure that the rest of the letters, which were still pouring
in, got to them as well.

By the time the service was over and everyone
was saying their goodbyes, I felt a sense of peace about Wes’s
death. The survivor’s guilt I’d been experiencing for two days
lifted and I was committed to honoring Wes’s memory in a way that
would make him proud. We were talking with Ken, Serena and the guys
about when we should hit the studio again to get back to work when
Aurora turned to look over her shoulder at someone and then
squeezed my hand.