“Unacceptable.” Vic threw the plastic bag on the floor.
Ricky cringed, relieved that the bag didn’t burst. “It’s all I could get. Deal with it.”
“It’s plasma.” Vic put his face close to his and bared his fangs. “I need whole blood, human, not this centrifuged crap.”
Ricky glanced around the dressing room, but Bo was adjusting his leather pants, Kalila was leaning into the mirror and doing something with her hair, and Nevin was entranced by a cup of tea. Only Lazaro returned his gaze, and it was with a scowl that Ricky knew meant even bigger trouble than he was in right now.
He turned back to Vic. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood products? I’m not a member of the medical profession – I’m just a band manager.”
“Not my problem.” Vic tossed himself into a chair and looked up at him with baleful eyes. “Vampires need fresh blood. It’s in my contract. Get me a girl, if you can’t get what I need in a bag. I don’t like that pre-packaged stuff, anyway. I only tolerate it to indulge your ridiculous human squeamishness.”
Ricky sighed and was about to say something, but the way Lazaro’s eyes bored into him was giving him the creeps. “What’s with you? Don’t tell me you don’t like your catered meal, either.”
“Pig brains are disgusting.”
There was no arguing that point, but as far as Ricky was concerned, the zombie drummer's usual fare was worse. “It’s not like I can just walk into the corner store and buy a human cerebellum, you know.”
“Maybe I should eat yours.”
Ricky sucked in his breath and met Kalila’s eyes in the mirror, pleading silently for help.
Kalila gave a little shrug. “The boys are right. You have obligations, Ricky.”
“But—” he went to stand behind her. “The contract is unreasonable. It holds me to standards no human can meet.”
“So?” She conjured a lipstick and pouted at her reflection. “What do you think of this color? Too much?”
“I think your expectations are too much.” Ricky plucked the lipstick from her hand so he would have her full attention. “You know as well as I do that you conjured my signature on that contract. You can’t hold me accountable to things I never agreed to in the first place.”
Kalila vanished the lipstick with a gesture, then turned her attention back to her mirror. “Too bad. You’re on the hook now, so do something.”
“Do what? Make humans available as food sources for your band members?”
Vic stood up and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sounds good to me. I’ll go do this set, and when I get back here, you better have a solution waiting. Preferably type O.”
Lazaro nodded and followed Vic toward the door. “She should be a college graduate too,” he said. “Someone with dense neurons.”
Ricky watched them leave. “Well, sure. Just make it sound easy, why don't you? Any other qualifications?”
Bo grabbed his guitar and brushed past him. “Make sure she’s sexy. I could use a snack, myself.”
Ricky fumed and was about to run after them and tell them to get over their ridiculous expectations when Kalila approached and cupped his cheek in her palm.
“You can do it.” Her voice was a siren song on a sultry night. “I have faith in you.”
Her kiss was fire and honey; a hot whiskey glow that burned through Ricky's body and left him weak in the knees. He stared at the empty doorway after she left, his ears straining for the sound of her guitar and his body yearning for her touch.
He would find a way to satisfy her bandmates. It would probably get him arrested, but what the hell, she was a djinn. She could spring him.
Ricky took out his BlackBerry and punched in a number. If he was lucky, the blood bank was open late and would deliver.
Maelstrom Extra: Backstage Demands
Saturday, March 20, 2010
reviews (Comments): 9
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Maelstrom
Maelstrom Extra: Coming Clean
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
reviews (Comments): 12
Posted by
Maelstrom
Ricky sighed with pleasure as the water beat down on his back. There was nothing like a hot shower after several hours in a smoky club. He scrunched his eyes shut and scrubbed shampoo into his hair.
He felt the change in temperature as the bathroom door opened, and he flailed about in alarm. Could a man defend himself with just a bar of soap and a bottle of baby shampoo?
“Hi, Ricky.”
“We hope we’re not disturbing you.”
Ricky tried to wipe the suds out of his eyes. “Kalila? Nevin?”
“Me, too,” said Bo.
“And me and Lazaro,” Vic added, “If the rest of them will let us in.”
“I got here first,” Nevin said in indignation. “But you can sit with me on the counter.”
“Never mind,” Kalila told them. “I’ll conjure chairs.”
Ricky shoved his wet hair off his forehead and poked his head around the shower curtain. “Wait a minute. This is my bathroom; my alone time. Is nothing sacred?”
Kalila conjured a velvet folding chair and sat down. “I’m a Zoroastrian, remember? Fire is sacred to me, not water. But carry on with what you’re doing, if it’s that important to you.”
“Yes, please continue your water ritual,” Nevin said from his perch on the countertop. “We promise not to take up too much of your time.”
“Take up my time with what?”
“An idea we had,” Bo said, with a leer that suggested he could see through the shower curtain. “Although I’m starting to get some new ideas. This room is a little crowded. Mind if I join you?”
Ricky ducked back behind the shower curtain. “You guys never cease to amaze me. Out. All of you. Now.”
There was a startled silence on the other side of the curtain, then Ricky heard the soft chittering of whispered conversation over the pounding of the water.
“Look, human,” Vic finally said. “We have a brilliant idea and we took time out of a night’s lurking and prowling to come here and discuss it with you, so the least you could do is listen.”
“You really aren’t being very friendly,” Nevin pointed out.
“This isn’t about being friendly, or having ideas, or…” Ricky paused. What good would it to do to explain? “I’m almost done, okay? Wait for me in the living room like normal people, and I’ll be there in a minute. Promise.”
Ricky heard grumbles from Vic and Lazaro and a sniff of annoyance from Kalila as they filed out.
The last set of footsteps paused near the door. “Ricky?”
“Go away, Bo.”
“I just wanted to say, 'nice ass.'”
Ricky grabbed the soap and threw it at him.
Alone again, with the steaming water beating down around him, Ricky tried to regain the sense of peace and relaxation that had been stolen from him, but the moment was gone, as frail and fleeting as a soap bubble.
He rinsed his hair under the water one last time. What did the demons want that was so important? They had an idea? Dear lord, if it was like any of their others, it was probably something ridiculous, illegal, or immoral. Maybe all three.
He reached for the faucet and shut off the water. Well, nothing was impossible. Maybe this time it was something brilliant. He opened the shower curtain to reach for a towel and found Kalila grinning at him. When did she sneak back in? Damnable djinn with her conjuring ways and—
She handed him a warm, fluffy towel.
Okay, so sometimes demons had good ideas.
“You got me,” Ricky said. “Come clean and tell me what you want.”
He felt the change in temperature as the bathroom door opened, and he flailed about in alarm. Could a man defend himself with just a bar of soap and a bottle of baby shampoo?
“Hi, Ricky.”
“We hope we’re not disturbing you.”
Ricky tried to wipe the suds out of his eyes. “Kalila? Nevin?”
“Me, too,” said Bo.
“And me and Lazaro,” Vic added, “If the rest of them will let us in.”
“I got here first,” Nevin said in indignation. “But you can sit with me on the counter.”
“Never mind,” Kalila told them. “I’ll conjure chairs.”
Ricky shoved his wet hair off his forehead and poked his head around the shower curtain. “Wait a minute. This is my bathroom; my alone time. Is nothing sacred?”
Kalila conjured a velvet folding chair and sat down. “I’m a Zoroastrian, remember? Fire is sacred to me, not water. But carry on with what you’re doing, if it’s that important to you.”
“Yes, please continue your water ritual,” Nevin said from his perch on the countertop. “We promise not to take up too much of your time.”
“Take up my time with what?”
“An idea we had,” Bo said, with a leer that suggested he could see through the shower curtain. “Although I’m starting to get some new ideas. This room is a little crowded. Mind if I join you?”
Ricky ducked back behind the shower curtain. “You guys never cease to amaze me. Out. All of you. Now.”
There was a startled silence on the other side of the curtain, then Ricky heard the soft chittering of whispered conversation over the pounding of the water.
“Look, human,” Vic finally said. “We have a brilliant idea and we took time out of a night’s lurking and prowling to come here and discuss it with you, so the least you could do is listen.”
“You really aren’t being very friendly,” Nevin pointed out.
“This isn’t about being friendly, or having ideas, or…” Ricky paused. What good would it to do to explain? “I’m almost done, okay? Wait for me in the living room like normal people, and I’ll be there in a minute. Promise.”
Ricky heard grumbles from Vic and Lazaro and a sniff of annoyance from Kalila as they filed out.
The last set of footsteps paused near the door. “Ricky?”
“Go away, Bo.”
“I just wanted to say, 'nice ass.'”
Ricky grabbed the soap and threw it at him.
Alone again, with the steaming water beating down around him, Ricky tried to regain the sense of peace and relaxation that had been stolen from him, but the moment was gone, as frail and fleeting as a soap bubble.
He rinsed his hair under the water one last time. What did the demons want that was so important? They had an idea? Dear lord, if it was like any of their others, it was probably something ridiculous, illegal, or immoral. Maybe all three.
He reached for the faucet and shut off the water. Well, nothing was impossible. Maybe this time it was something brilliant. He opened the shower curtain to reach for a towel and found Kalila grinning at him. When did she sneak back in? Damnable djinn with her conjuring ways and—
She handed him a warm, fluffy towel.
Okay, so sometimes demons had good ideas.
“You got me,” Ricky said. “Come clean and tell me what you want.”
Maelstrom Extra: Djinn Dreams
Saturday, February 27, 2010
reviews (Comments): 5
Posted by
Maelstrom
Kalila struggled out of Ricky’s embrace. “It's important that I become famous.”
“I know.” He pushed the sheets aside and tried to pull her back to him, but she wedged a pillow between them.
“You don’t really believe it.”
“Of course I do.” He tried to move the pillow, but she had done something magical to it and he couldn't make it budge. “I wouldn’t be managing you if I didn’t think you have what it takes.”
“Liar. You manage my band because I manufactured a contract with your blood on it, not because you have any faith in my dreams.”
Ricky sighed in frustration and flopped onto his back. What was it about immortals and their lousy sense of timing? “I don’t know why you want to talk about this now.”
“It's never a bad time to talk about things that are important.”
He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “You got me on board at the beginning by forcing me to be your manager, but I believe in you now. You’re going to make it.”
Kalila gazed at him with suspicion. “You don’t mean that. Or do you?”
“You’re beautiful and talented. Your band puts on a great show. You can make it to the top. I have every confidence in you.”
“Then why is it taking so long?”
“This isn't something you can conjure like you did that bottle of scotch earlier tonight, which I appreciated, by the way.”
“I know you like single malt.”
“Unless you want to take a shortcut and win fans by magic, you'll just have to keep working hard. It'll happen, though. Really.”
Ricky tried again to move the pillow and found the spell had been removed. He tossed it aside and pulled Kalila close, forgetting as he lost himself in the heat of her body that she was a djinn and he a mere mortal. He, of all people, understood that sometimes the biggest and most improbable dreams came true.
“I know.” He pushed the sheets aside and tried to pull her back to him, but she wedged a pillow between them.
“You don’t really believe it.”
“Of course I do.” He tried to move the pillow, but she had done something magical to it and he couldn't make it budge. “I wouldn’t be managing you if I didn’t think you have what it takes.”
“Liar. You manage my band because I manufactured a contract with your blood on it, not because you have any faith in my dreams.”
Ricky sighed in frustration and flopped onto his back. What was it about immortals and their lousy sense of timing? “I don’t know why you want to talk about this now.”
“It's never a bad time to talk about things that are important.”
He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “You got me on board at the beginning by forcing me to be your manager, but I believe in you now. You’re going to make it.”
Kalila gazed at him with suspicion. “You don’t mean that. Or do you?”
“You’re beautiful and talented. Your band puts on a great show. You can make it to the top. I have every confidence in you.”
“Then why is it taking so long?”
“This isn't something you can conjure like you did that bottle of scotch earlier tonight, which I appreciated, by the way.”
“I know you like single malt.”
“Unless you want to take a shortcut and win fans by magic, you'll just have to keep working hard. It'll happen, though. Really.”
Ricky tried again to move the pillow and found the spell had been removed. He tossed it aside and pulled Kalila close, forgetting as he lost himself in the heat of her body that she was a djinn and he a mere mortal. He, of all people, understood that sometimes the biggest and most improbable dreams came true.
