The two Diamondbacks had switched their attention from Alena and Scarlet to Seychelle, and she realized her voice had enthralled them, just as it had several other men in the room. Arnold continued to sit at the bar, drinking and brooding. The bar was so crowded now with bikers, she could barely stay focused on those in the back room, and she was thirsty. Usually, she sang in sets. By now, she would have had a break, and she needed one desperately.
There was one member of the Diamondbacks in the back room who seemed as if he was so weighed down with his burden, he felt as if he was being pressed to the wall and had no way out but to fight. The man Seychelle had identified as Pierce had become more and more morose and miserable, as well as determined. In contrast, the members of Torpedo Ink seemed calm on the surface, but like Alena, their anger and pain ran deep. Something about this meeting brought back too many memories. She couldn’t read their memories, but she could feel the terrible emotional toll the meeting was taking on each of the members.
She did her best to send peace and harmony to them, and when she felt Savage taking more and more of his brothers’ and sisters’ pain and anger onto his shoulders, she finally turned her head slightly and signaled to Maestro to play a ballad. She could control that rising tide of emotion and bring the level of despair down, but she couldn’t absorb the pain the way her man was doing.
She sang about love. The power of it. The importance of it. The incredible journey. The way one sacrificed. She knew the road would be rough at times. That they would falter and sometimes even be angry and fail, but if they kept trying together, they would forge something so strong, nothing—no one—could ever break them apart. She poured her heart and soul into the lyrics. The pitch was perfection, going out onto the frame and those radial lines and sending the notes dancing up the walls and across the ceiling, down the hall and under the door to the meeting room.
In the bar, the notes found each spiral thread running to the crowd of various people and found specific ones, those needing solace or needing to simply relax into the music. She spun her golden net, ensnaring the crowd with her voice and lyrics, blending and weaving her notes with the incredible music the band played. The web vibrated with the power of her gift, resonating with each person individually, becoming what they needed, in that moment giving them the incentive and determination to get through every crisis with grace and strength and fairness.
When the last notes of the song faded, the band picked up the beat, swinging into a dance number, one the crowd would recognize instantly and not only dance to but sing along to. Maestro took up the vocals to give her a much-needed break. She felt as if her throat had been torn out. Nodding to him, she stepped off the stage, mindful of Savage’s decree not to go too far from the band. There was no third chair to join Alena and Scarlet at their table, and Brandon was at the bar with Joseph Arnold. She didn’t want to talk to either of them. Mostly, she wanted fresh air.
She signaled to Fatei, and he came right away as she stepped off the platform. “Is there a way I can go outside and still be close to the back room? They feel as if they’re leaving, but just in case.”
“Yeah, they’re all going,” Fatei agreed. “Czar sent the message just now.”
Relief swept over Seychelle. “Is Savage coming to get me?”
“Not yet. He’s got a little more club business. You’ll have to stick with me for a little bit longer.”
“Can you signal Anya for a water and we’ll head outside? I saw Preacher use another door leading out. We could maybe go that way?” She made it a question and all but crossed her fingers, trying not to be upset that Savage had texted Fatei with his plans but not her. She’d glanced at her phone and there was nothing from him.
“Babe, Savage would prefer that you stay inside.”
“I just want to step outside for a minute. I can’t breathe. I’ve never sung that long without a break.” Seychelle made it a statement. “I really have to go outside and get some fresh air.”
Fatei took a long time to scan the bar, and then he nodded. “We’ll head toward the bar. I’ll grab your water and we’ll head out. Just give me a minute to make sure it’s clear. I’m texting Anya and Preacher that I’m bringing you out.” He stood directly in front of her while he did so.