Hotter than Hades by Serena Akeroyd

Author:Serena Akeroyd [Akeroyd, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-19T18:00:00+00:00

Nash

Seeing her on stage was always like watching dynamite about to explode. She was ebullient, and controlling my arousal was always a beast when I watched her amp up the crowd. But when she sang acoustics? That was when her soul called to mine.

At least, I’d always felt that way and had never understood why.

Now, I realized I hadn’t been reacting like a lovesick puppy.

She had been calling to me.

Neither of us had realized it, though.

As the crowd settled into the second act, their eagerness evident for the part of the show where she slowed things down before ramping them back up again, we all waited with bated breath for her to start.

The single stool on the center of the stage, and the rest of the area in pitch black, was enough to make anyone nervous. But as she strode on and took a seat, she didn’t reveal an ounce of nerves.

Backstage, she hadn’t, either. Not really. Not in the face of the surprise dealt her way with the sudden appearance of over two-dozen ghosts popping into existence.

This woman was capable of so much. She’d contained her depression, her fear, her hurt, her rightful anger for months. She’d been gagged and spiritually imprisoned by our record company. Yet, each concert, she’d managed to get out on stage without becoming a wreck.

This was no weak miss.

She had guts.

And I was only just seeing how much power she had.

The second the Spanish guitar started, the guitarist plucking the strings to one of her favorites, “Until we dance again,” the hairs at the back of my neck stood on edge as she crooned to the crowd.

For a second, in our little VIP space where no one could get to us thanks to Hades who’d paid the organizers only the gods knew how much to have this kind of seating at every venue for the rest of the tour, we did nothing more than absorb her.

Her voice.

Her song.

Her words.

The melody, the lyrics, they hadn’t been written for us, and yet, I knew she sang with us in mind.

Each song tripped from her lips, moving from sad and soulful, to cheery and joyful.

Each time, I felt the harmony in my bones. I felt it deep down in my soul until there was no questioning whether she was ours and we were hers.

It was simply meant to be.

I sucked in a shallow breath as the acoustic segment died down. As the lights flared on again, the screens caught glimpses of the crowd rubbing at their eyes, dabbing their cheeks. She had power in her voice, I knew, and it made sense that we shared a lineage. It might seem incestuous, but there were thousands of years between our births. There was no issue on that front, yet her voice was a gift from Apollo.

I knew that now. I recognized it. Recognized the call.

From having seen her set before, I knew she had three more songs to go. When everything went well, no ghosts, we’d all started to believe that things had calmed down, but on the last song, they appeared once more.

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