Free Revelation of Blood by J. L. McCoy Page A

pouring out his very soul into the mic. My hand
covered my mouth as I tried to stifle my bubbling emotions. Seeing
him play that song was bad enough but having to hear it made me
feel sick.
    His words made me want to find the deepest,
darkest hole and hide away; to run out of the club and lie down in
oncoming traffic, finally putting him out of his misery. I felt
lower than low; like the sludge that grows on slime that sits below
algae at the bottom of a pond. He’s never going to forgive
me , I silently told myself. He hates you, just
listen !
    I swallowed thickly, my eyes burning with
unshed tears, as I turned to go back to the bar. Truth was, I
wanted to be anywhere in the world but right here listening to his
internal torture. What I did to him was unforgiveable and I had no
right to show my face here.
    Archer was moving through the ever increasing
crowd and was only a few feet away. He stopped in front of me,
handing me another beer and whiskey.
    “I’m going to take this one over to Jameson,
baby,” he said as he leaned into me. “Do you want to go with me and
say hello?”
    I quickly shook my head and made an excuse.
“I’m going to check out the merch booth real quick. There’s a Manky
Langer t-shirt I want. I’ll find you in a few minutes.”
    Archer kissed my cheek and I watched frozen
with fear as he approached the stage. Jameson’s eyes were still
closed but it only took a few seconds for him to sense Archer near.
His eyes popped open in surprise and he smiled down at his brother.
I could tell that Jameson had missed Archer and was genuinely happy
to see him.
    Jameson flawlessly finished the song and
flipped his guitar around on its strap so that it rested against
his back before hopping down and hugging Archer tightly, patting
his back a few times. Jameson accepted the whiskey from his
brother, then reached over by his stool and picked up a half empty
bottle of his own favorite brand before draining the shot and
refilling his and Archer’s glasses.
    They talked for a minute and I was about to
turn around when a tell-tale frown appeared on Jameson’s face. I
knew right then that the conversation had turned to me. Jameson’s
head snapped up and he scanned the crowd, looking for me.
    I was so terrified of him seeing me and
wanted to turn tail and run, but my feet were cemented in place.
Fear is a total bitch sometimes. Jameson’s eyes passed over me and
I breathed a sigh of relief. To my horror, they snapped right back
to me and zeroed in. Like they were all suddenly conspiring against
me, the crowd around me picked that moment to shift, leaving me
fully exposed to him. His eyes swept slowly down my body and back
up again, taking their time on the trip. I wrapped my arms
protectively around my bare stomach and waited for the condemnation
I was sure to see in his eyes. To my immense amazement and shock,
it never came.
    He stared at me for a while longer then
looked back to Archer and never glanced my way again. I didn’t know
whether to be relieved or hurt. I settled on a mix of the two and
tossed back my shot before chasing it with the entire can of
PBR.
    I politely elbowed my way to the bar and
ordered up another double whiskey while Archer and Jameson visited.
The bartender must have sensed my inner turmoil because he slid me
another PBR on the house and told me to cheer up. I nodded my head,
thanking him, and tossed back the double before shooting the beer.
A minute later, my head started to feel fuzzy and I knew I had a
buzz. Sadly, being a vampire made it hard to catch an actual buzz
and even harder to keep it for very long. Either way I was happy
because my nerves were starting to finally calm down.
    A hand rubbed my back and I glanced up to see
Archer behind me. “You doing okay?” he asked, concern heavy in his
voice.
    “I’m buzzed,” I smiled as I signaled for
another round for Archer and me.
    “I bet,” Archer smiled and leaned down to
capture my mouth. “You taste like Pabst,” he