We hugged it out until Vervain said, “C’mon, even this is too much girl on girl for me, and I’m gay. Let’s wait outside before this devolves into my wildest, wettest fantasies. Apart from you, Marlow. You can watch from the sidelines.”
“Gee, thanks,” he said drily. “Go ahead, I’ll have her out in fifteen.”
“Ooh,” the two of them said as they exited, “Kira’s got a boyfriend.”
“Do I?” I said when they walked out. Things went quiet and still, but not uncomfortably so. He just looked at me, a slight smile on his face, his hand around my waist.
“I shouldn’t have said anything this morning.” His arm tightened when I went to pull away, my cheeks flaming. I was being incredibly brazen compared to my human self, but this was the first time I’d regretted it. “Stop, not like that. It’s too soon, and I can’t promise you anything. I’m completely and utterly tied to the Rutherglen, but Kira…” He waited for me to look at him. “I’ll give you everything I have while we’re together. It’s been driving me fucking mad, being in that other bus. And then Jen and Vervain decided to ‘pass some time’ in the bedroom and…” He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face with his free hand. “And you look sweet and sleepy and pouty, and you have no bra on your fucking amazing breasts, and I just want to toss you on the bed and—”
I stopped him with a kiss. A searing, hot kiss that hopefully made all of what I’d thought and felt clear to him. He tugged me closer, deepening things until he was forced to either pull away or do as he said.
“Coffee, the green lace underwear, jeans, and this.” He held up a shirt, waiting for me to register what it was.
“Oh, my god…” He nodded, put it gently into my hands, then patted me on the arse. “Try it on. Show Daddy what it looks like on.”
“Daddy?” I said with a snort.
“We’ll explore that kink later. Now get dressed.”
“Slow down!”
We walked towards the stadium from the staff car park where the buses were all stashed. Nervous energy had turned into actual physical energy, my calves feeling like they were coiled springs, able to push me forward in leaps and bounds. My camera bag banged on my hip as I went, a rhythmic counterpoint to the sounds I could hear from the sound check.
I turned around to walk backwards, unable to stop, and saw the others struggling to keep up. They were being cool and restrained, like this was no big thing, but for me, it was. I’d probably never want to hear the dulcet sounds of “check, 1, 2” again before the end of the tour, but right now, I felt like I was experiencing something momentous. This was my first fricking concert, and I was going to see The Changelings live! My hands ached with the need to document everything.
“I know you’re excited…” Jen huffed as she drew up beside me.
“I am! And nothing you can say is going to change that. This is my first concert, Jen. My first! I can’t not be excited.”
She just shook her head, her hair bleached white by the late afternoon sun.
“Fine, let’s go then.”
She grabbed my arm, and we broke out into a run, leaving the others behind.
“Miss Rutherglen, Miss Leigh.”
Some of the mad excitement drained away when I saw the security team. Wearing jeans and a t-shirt rather than a suit, Mark stood there with Paulie and several other sentinels, and I tried very hard to not notice how well those pants fit him.
“Here are your passes, and if you’ll just hold out your hands…” Mine jerked out on automatic, something that had pretty much everyone smiling. Look, I was keen to get inside the venue. The fact that I was doing a fair approximation of a Labrador puppy was just an aside. There was a brief feeling of warmth, and then an elaborate glyph appeared on my skin before disappearing.
“This is for humans,” Vervain said, holding up the backstage passes. “That is for other fae,” she continued, pointing to my hand.
“Now, the Rutherglen has asked me to stress that no outside trips are to be undertaken without at least two sentinels joining the party. Failure to comply will result in the cancelling of contracts, the—”
“Yes, yes,” Jen said with an irritated wave. “I have your number, Mark. I’ll let you know of any plans we have.”
“Excellent,” he said, moving aside so we could pass. “Have a lovely night. Miss Leigh, you’ve been asked to go to the stage area.”
“Come on,” the others said as we got past security. My eyes were wide as we walked from the car park, up the stairs, and into the backstage of the auditorium. My camera was in my hand without even thinking about it, and I only looked away from the bustle to turn it on.
“Kira,” Jen said with a laugh, “we’re not even near the band yet.”
“Don’t care,” I said. “Some of this will be for me, for when all this wears off and I can feel my face again.”
“Well, if we’re taking snapshots.” She stopped and fished her phone out.
“Selfies? C’mon, Jen. They’re like the—”
“Shitty graffiti of photography, clogging up the visual world with endless banal images,” she finished, doing an imitation of my voice. “C’mon, I want a souvenir too. This is the start of something huge. We’ve got courts from all over coming to the after show. This is like your debut into court life.”
“Well, that’s not reassuring at all.”
“Please?”
I was one of the few people Jen said that to, since she only had to click her fingers to get what she wanted from most. Not that she did. She had that natural air of authority about her that had people following her orders, except with me. I got to see the slightly vulnerable smile, the pleading look, and I stepped in close and ducked under her outstretched arm. She clicked off a couple of shots, and there we were, grinning like idiots on the glossy display, the drab grey cinder block wall behind us packed high with black and silver road cases.
“Alright, I’ve gotta get my mind on the job. Where will you guys be?” I asked.
“Around. I’m overseeing this leg of the tour. Find me in the wings once the concert starts. I don’t give a shit what those overgrown frat boys want, we’re watching this together.”
“You got it,” I said. “Now where the hell is the stage area?”
There was staff everywhere—on phones, talking in small groups, ferrying gear or crates of drinks, plates of food, or pushing racks of clothes. I found my best bet was to skim the walls, keeping out of the main thoroughfare, so I wedged myself between several stacks of cases and started firing off some shots. Just ambience kinds of stuff. I tried some slow shutter speed shots where the movement of all these people was recorded in blurry lines, trying to get a feel for the place. Then the girls appeared.
Looking almost coltish with long slender legs on towering high heels, they forged through the streaming mass with no fear, snarls of anger forming on their ethereally beautiful faces when people didn’t give them a wide berth.
Find the story, Marlow had said. Well, they were the closest thing to one right now. I edged out, worming my way through the passersby before emerging out into the cluster of lounge chairs set in the middle of this chaos—for them, it appeared.