Inferno (16 page)

“Seriously, Nick? You need to learn to believe in yourself. There’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it. That’s why I’m taking you to the audition.”

He glanced at the road and actually considered jumping for it. He’d rather be a stain on the pavement than endure the horrors of what she had planned. “I tell you what I believe.… I believe I’m going to highly embarrass myself … which is something I can do without.”

“No, you won’t.” He heard the deep aggravation in her tone as she snapped at him.

Even though his ribs protested it, he raked his hand through his dark hair. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you to make you hate me like this?”

She gave him a peeved glare. “I don’t hate you, baby. And I’m not doing anything to you. You said just the other day in class that you’d love to be in a band.”

“I also said I’d love to be an astronaut. I hope that don’t mean you’re going to throw me in a rocket and launch my butt into outer space.”

“Stop being ridiculous.”

Nick wanted to beat her. He wasn’t being ridiculous. She was. And unreasonable too.

I don’t need this crap.
He really didn’t. The day had been bad enough, and after barely escaping death yesterday—twice—he didn’t want to go through anything horrible today.

Was it really too much to ask for a twenty-four-hour period of normality? His stomach heaved as a wave of terror consumed him.

That feeling didn’t get better as they pulled up in front of Madaug St. James’s house and she parked her car on the curb. She turned in the seat to face him. “They’re auditioning in Eric’s garage. Eric and Alex are the guitarists … or one’s a bass or something. I can’t remember. But you know Eric, right?”

He nodded. Eric was Madaug’s older brother Nick and Bubba had helped to save from zombies last year. “Casey—”

“Shh! No argument.” She got out, then literally pulled him from the car and up the driveway with him dragging his feet the whole way. He hadn’t been this big a baby since he was ten years old and his mother had pulled him into the lacy panty section of Walmart in front of one of his teachers and her daughter who was in his class while the two of them had been shopping for Tina’s training bras.

Oh the humanity and degradation of
that
nightmare!

Nick felt like he was going to hurl.
Why couldn’t Mason have killed me during practice?

As they neared the garage, he heard someone attempting to play … a song he couldn’t even begin to identify. It reminded him of a two-year-old with an overturned pan. The poor kid was hitting the drums very deliberately while counting the beat out loud. He’d stomped the bass pedal with his foot, then counted and hit the snare and floor tom.…

And the serious torture that was going on with the hi-hat and crash cymbals made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

Yeah, okay, Nick could probably play better than
that
. But the kid didn’t seem to care as he kept going in an awkward style that froze Nick to the spot as soon as they came into view of the drummer. Nick didn’t recognize him from school, but since Eric didn’t go to St. Richard’s with him, Alex, and Madaug, he could be from Eric’s high school instead.

To the credit of the band, none of them laughed or jeered at the guy’s poor skills. Of course, their expressions basically said they were too horrified or shocked to move, never mind speak.

Except for Alex, who had one hand over his mouth while his blue eyes were wide and round as he watched the kid play. Tall and blond, Alex Peltier was a member of the bear clan that owned and ran Sanctuary on Ursulines, where Nick’s mom worked. He and Nick had been cursory friends for a couple of years, and in all honesty, he liked the bear.

Nick really only knew Eric through Madaug and his ritualistic bitch sessions about how much Madaug hated his older brother and the emo stage that Eric seemed to be locked into.

A lot on the odd but extremely brilliant side, Madaug was the certifiable genius who’d created the Zombie Hunter game that had turned half their football team into zombies almost two years ago. Luckily, they’d stopped it, but it hadn’t been easy.

The other two guys who sat in stunned silence with Eric and Alex, Nick didn’t know at all.

Screwing up her face, Casey pressed her finger into her left ear and shuddered.

Finally, the kid stopped abusing the drums. He got up and made a grandiose, formal bow to Alex and company. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” he said, even though no one was applauding. “For the record, I can practice any day but Sunday.” He came forward and handed each band member a card. “That’s my name and number for your convenience. I know, to be fair, you’ll want to hear everyone else audition for the band. Once they’re done and you realize how great I am, you can reach me there until nine. I’m not allowed to take calls after nine or else.” He smiled at each of them. “I can’t wait to hear from you.”

Alex’s mouth opened and closed several times before he finally spoke. “Thanks…” He looked down at the card. “David. We really appreciate you coming by.”

“See you soon.” David drew near Nick and raked him with a sneer. “You should go on home. They already have a drummer.… Me.”

Nice ego there, buddy
.

But Nick didn’t say anything out loud. Who was he to hurt someone else’s feelings? Honestly, he envied the kid that kind of confidence. God knew he’d never had a drop of it.

“Hey, Nick,” Alex said, rising to his feet as he realized they were there. “Casey. What are you doing here?”

“I have no idea,” Nick mumbled.

Casey scoffed at him, then she stepped forward, dragging Nick in her wake. “He’s here to audition.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “You play drums?”

“Play the radio, mostly.”

“Stop, Nick,” Casey chided as she pushed him closer to Alex. “He plays incredibly well. He’s just bashful about it.”

Still, he kept fighting her. “Really don’t. I suck, big time.” He gestured over his shoulder to the tiny Chihuahua who wouldn’t get her teeth out of his heinie. “Casey hit her head earlier when they dropped her off the top of their cheerleader pyramid, so I think I’ll take her for a CAT scan and—”

“Nick!” she snapped. “Stop it! Now get over there and play.”

Alex bit back a laugh. “I don’t think she’s going to let you escape until you play something.”

“Yeah, ’cause I have not been embarrassed to my bones enough times today. Thanks, Case.”

Alex gestured to Eric. “I know you know Eric already.”

Dressed black on black, Eric had a blond streak in the middle of his dyed black hair that he wore spiked all over his head. He jerked his chin in greeting. “What up, Gautier?”

Not my dignity. That’s for dang sure.
“Eric.”

Next, Alex indicated a guy who looked closer to Eric’s age than Nick’s. “Our lead singer is Marlon Phelps.”

He stood up to shake Nick’s hand. With dark skin and black eyes, Marlon was several inches shorter than Nick. And as he drew close, he raked a hungry look over Nick that quickly told him they were on entirely different teams when it came to pursuing prom dates.

“Hi,” he said in a wispy voice as he extended a hand toward Nick. “Please, call me Marla or Marls.”

“Hi, Marls.” Nick shook his proffered hand.

Alex continued his introductions. “And the silent, moody one over there, with the sunglasses he won’t take off, is our bass player, Duff Portakalian.”

Duff had short, jet-black hair and an aura around him of a street punk who’d rather rip your head off than shake your hand. But as he gave a nod toward Nick, Nick saw his real form flash through his mind. Like Alex, he might appear to be a guy in his teens, but in reality, he was in his early thirties … and a werepanther. One of the most peculiar things about Were-Hunters was that they aged a lot slower than humans. Their adolescence hit them in their late twenties and early thirties. At which point they were put in human schools to help them learn how to interact with nonpreternatural beings.

Something that didn’t always work out to everyone’s benefit.

“Hi, Duff.”

Duff ignored him completely.

Alex sighed. “You’ll have to forgive him, Nick. He has perpetual PMS.”

“Hey!” Casey snapped indignantly. “That’s a sexist thing to say!”

Alex laughed. “Not your PMS. His PMS. Premeditated Mental Sickness.”

Scowling, she looked back and forth between them. “What’s that?”

“He’s pretending to be clinically antisocial. Right, Duff?”

Duff flipped him off.

Ignoring the gesture, Alex turned back to Nick. “Anyway, we’ve been asking everyone to play ‘Wipe Out’ if they can … or whatever else you might know that’s rock.”

“Okay…”

Wipe out. How apropos, since that was what he was about to do.

Nick looked to Casey, still wanting an out, but she wasn’t about to give him one. She appeared even more determined than before.

Thanks, Case.

Nick scratched nervously at the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra set of drumsticks I can borrow … would you?”

Duff curled his lips. “He doesn’t even have his own sticks? C’mon, Alex. This is a complete waste of my time.”

“Oh shut up,” Casey snapped at him. “Like you have anything better to do than feel sorry for yourself.” She reached down and snatched a set of sticks from the guitar case at Eric’s feet.

Nick wasn’t sure which of them was the most stunned by her actions. He didn’t know if he should apologize or run.

She pressed the sticks into his hands. “Show them what you can do, baby.”

Nick still wanted to vomit. But what the heck? He’d suffered far worse humiliations in his life than this one. At least she wasn’t bra shopping with her mom while his mother oohed and ahhed over lacy panties in public while he held her pink purse.

Wanting a giant black hole to suck him out of this, he went to the standard five-piece red drum kit and took a few minutes to adjust the throne and pieces for his height. He put his foot on the pedal and took inventory of what he was working with. One floor tom, two rack-mounted toms, the snare and bass. Hi-hat and cymbols—two crash and one ride.

All right. Everything he needed to fully embarrass himself. Cool beans.

This too shall pass.…

And unfortunately, he
would
live through it.

With a sigh of dread, Nick closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to see their horrified faces, and searched his memory for something he could play that wouldn’t be too mortifying for any of them.

All of a sudden, in the back of his mind, he heard the sound of crashing thunder, then a freaky laugh, and someone saying
wipe out.…

The next thing he knew, he was playing the song. No, not playing …

He was
owning
it. Without missing a single beat …

What the heck? How could he do this? He’d never really played this song before. Only heard it a few times on the radio. Yet his body went through the movements and notes as if he’d played it a thousand times.

Alex came to his feet with a cheerful whoop, then reached for his guitar and joined in with the riff.

Yeah, okay, not to sound egotistical, but it was pretty epic. Nick smiled as he tasted real pride for the first time in his life. And when Duff joined in and started jamming with them, he really felt like something other than a stone-cold loser.

Even Madaug’s little brother Ian came outside to listen to them play. Though why Ian was dressed as a box was anyone’s guess.…

But at least the little box liked Nick’s music. For that alone, he might be willing to adopt a younger brother the next time Madaug tried to give Ian away.

Two minutes later, Nick finished with a flourish. Ian jumped up and down, cheering along with Casey. At least until he lost one box arm that he had to quickly pick up and attempt to reattach.

Nick wasn’t sure who was more surprised by his lack of suckage. The guys or him.

Duff tucked his pick into the strings on the neck of his bass. “You’re good, Gautier.
Real
good.”

Coming from his surly personality, that had to be a giant compliment. “Thanks, Duff.”

Duff inclined his head to him, then set his bass aside.

“Well?” Alex asked the group.

“He’s got my vote,” Eric said.

Marlon nodded. “Definitely fine by me.” A slow smile broke across his face. “In more ways than one.”

Alex beamed. “Then it looks like we have a band. All we need now is a name.”

“Pokemon Live!” Ian shouted.

Eric curled his lips at his brother. “We’re not across the river, Ian. Go inside and leave us alone.”

Ian glared at him. “I hope Madaug turns you into a zombie again, you freak, and this time the principal eats
you
!”

Eric took a step toward him. Ian let out a yelp and jack-rabbited for the house, shedding pieces of his box costume in his wake.

With a sound of disgust, Eric shook his head. “I knew I should have traded him for a sister when I was a kid.”

Ignoring Eric’s family drama, Duff leaned forward on his chair to put his elbows on his knees. “What about Vexed?”

Eric shook his head. “We don’t want a name people will have to look up to understand.”

“Vexed?” Duff asked in a disgusted tone. “Really?”

“Hey, have you met the average student at our schools?” Eric asked.

Duff backed down. “Point well taken. Vexed is out.”

Casey exchanged a frown with Nick, who had absolutely no idea what to name the group.

Eric tapped his long black nails on the speaker in front of him. “What about Five Angry Guys?”

When the others started to agree, Nick spoke up fast. “Uh, no. Never.”

Duff frowned. “Why not? I like it.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Alex said.

Nick held up his hands. “Fine, but when people shorten it, and they will, we’ll be known as F-A-G.”

Eric, Alex, and Duff were mortified by the acronym.

Marlon laughed. “Oh, I like it even more.”

The other members exchanged uncomfortable grimaces.

“Oh c’mon, y’all,” Marlon said, still pressing for it. “We’ll be like Queen, with Freddie Mercury.”