Part 22 (1/2)
For the next hour, I looked up various ancient symbol websites. There were a lot of websites on the subject. Six million, nine hundred and thirty thousand to be exact. The major problem was narrowing it down to culture. All old cultures used symbols in some way. I decided to go with my hunch and started with the Celtic histories.
After browsing fifteen websites, I'd found nothing that matched the etchings in the pictures. Besides that the research was cut short because true to Trevor's word we had another gig to set up.
I'd always thought being a roadie would rock. Hanging out with the band, drinking beer all night, absorbing the music and the mayhem that went with it. But the reality of it was, it was a lot of hard, late nights, and zero respect. And for a girl, there were the added inappropriate comments and s.e.xual leers. I had to say I was extremely thankful that Trevor had my back. When he was around, everyone basically behaved.
A couple of hours later of moving equipment and setting up instruments, Trevor and I were free to chill. The last place I wanted to chill was at the club but I had no choice. Trevor had to stay in case there were problems and then we had to take everything down again after the show.
To kill some time, I wandered through the club, drinking a Red Bull and watching people. Although Malice didn't go on for another hour, the place was fairly crowded. To think only a couple of weeks ago, I'd been one of these desperate looking groupies scrambling for a spot up front for one chance to make eye contact with any of the band.
It was amazing what almost dying and becoming half-demon can do to a person's perspective on life.
I'd finished one full circuit of the club before heading backstage when I spotted something in the crowd. It was a tattoo on some tall dude's neck. It had the same spirals as one of the symbols on the box.
Pus.h.i.+ng through a b.i.t.c.h of bleach blondes, I bee-lined for the guy. He was uber tall so not hard to follow through the crowd. The top of my head just reached his shoulder. I had to tilt my head way up to talk to him.
”Hey guy?” I tapped him on the arm.
He peered down at me. ”Whacha want?”
”What's that symbol on your neck?” I pointed to the one on the right side, with the three armed spirals.
”It's Celtic.”
”What's it called? Does it have any meaning?”
”It's a triskele. Has some religious meaning or some s.h.i.+t. I just like it. It looks cool.”
”Thanks.” I gave him a bland smile and moved on.
Armed with the new knowledge, I hunted Trevor down in one of the back rooms. He was messing around with some wires in one of the speakers.
He smiled when he saw me approach. ”I'm hungry. Want to go get a pizza?”
”I found something.”
”What?” he asked half-heartedly as he continued to strip and tie the wires.
”You know. Something.”
His head came up at that. He glanced around to see if we were alone. A couple of security guys were hanging around at the door's entrance. One of them I knew was also a cambion. He was the d.i.c.k who wouldn't give me a backstage pa.s.s back in Boise.
Trevor slid his wire cutters into his back jean pocket then came around to swing his arm over my shoulders. Together we pushed through the small crowd milling about backstage and headed toward the back exit. He pushed the door open and we went out.
The security d.i.c.k's voice followed us out. ”Don't forget to wear a rubber.”
”I hate that douchebag.”
”Me too.” Trevor grabbed my hand. ”So, what do you got?”
”I saw one of the symbols on some dude's neck. I was right. It's Celtic.”
”What does it mean?”
I shrugged. ”The big idiot didn't know. But at least now I can look it up. It's called a triskele or something like that.”
”Cool. We're one step closer.”
”I want this to end so bad. I don't know how much longer I can handle it.”
He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. I settled my head against his shoulder and inhaled his scent. His smell never failed to ignite a fire deep in my belly.
”It'll be over soon. Then we can run off somewhere together.”
I pulled back and looked up into his eyes. It was the first time he mentioned still being together once we achieved our goal.
”Really? You want to...to be with me even after this?”
He bopped me on the nose with his finger. ”Yeah. I do.”
I wondered if he'd like living in Boise because that was where I intended to head after this was done. I missed my mom, and Chloe and my life there. Trevor would make a fine addition to that ensemble. I thought that my mom would even like him. Once she got past the cambion thing of course.
I was about to say as much before there was a ripple in the air next to us and the four demonic members of Malice stepped out of the shadows.
”Well, looky here.” Thane smiled. ”If it isn't my favorite washer woman.”
Devon pierced me with her lethal gaze. ”How's the arm?” she cackled, then pushed past us to go into the club. Quinn and Seth followed her barely acknowledging our existence. This didn't bother me too much.
”Guess what? I totally wrote a song about you.”
The groupie in me would've wet her panties to hear that, but for me, it was a nightmare.
”It's called Domestic Slave. Do you like it?”
Forgetting I was supposed to be terrified of him, I took a step toward him. ”Fu...”
Trevor squeezed my side. ”Salem,” he warned.
Thane laughed. ”Listen to your dark knight, sugar pop. You'll live longer.” He stepped around me and went into the club, happily slamming the door shut behind him.
I took a running kick at the door, forgetting I wasn't wearing my steel-toed Doc Martens.
”s.h.i.+t!” I hopped backwards on my left foot. ”I broke my toes.”