Marlene rubbed her hands over her face, trying to blot the oil and perspiration away. Despite the air conditioning, the heat from the travel still stuck to them.
"But Damali, you've got three thumpin' cuts that are about kicking evil's butt, then you have one so sad, girl, the guys can barely play it. But, 'When You Call'... chile! Uh, you're gonna get an NC-seventeen rating on the CD. That's a bit of a departure from what we've been doing, and will draw a bunch of different energy out. 'In the Dark' is commercial and sexy as hell, and it'll be off the charts, but child!"
Damali shook her head. "Y'all wanted a chart-buster, right?"
"Well," Marlene sighed, resigned, "the concert will be a media magnet, that's for sure. Warriors of Light will have more platinum, but that's not necessarily the point. I just want to be sure the media is the only thing we attract. And the things that song is gonna do to men, girl..."
Damali didn't formally answer the charge, but chuckled with Marlene knowing exactly what she was talking about. Being called on it, though, made her blush a bit. A couple of those songs went down on paper during the month before she knew Carlos was still alive - or better stated, existed. "Piece of My Soul" was so sad it was practically morbid. And "In the Dark" came after his awakening, so to speak, as they referred to it. Hell, after he'd blown her mind and made love to her like he did, it had been her awakening, too. But "When You Call"... shit... that came out as reflex. Damali smiled and looked at the floor. "If there's another master in this territory, the new music should draw him." What else could she say? "You always told me to work with my experiences."
Marlene just gave her a knowing smile, but remained silent.
Damali thought of one song's sultry, sad, wailing sound filled with desire. The first song she'd written after they'd made it out of the tunnels entered her bloodstream. She could feel it, and hear the refrain as it drifted through her mind and painted a renewed ache inside her. The words were true: You've got a piece of my soul buried within you. Why you gotta take us both through pure hell? Would go there again for one more night. Don't leave me hanging. Lost a piece of my soul without you.
But the other song was totally about the insanity of wanting someone so badly it hurt.
Every time she sang it, thought about it, performed it in the studio, she could see Carlos, newly turned, outside her compound, calling her till he dropped to his knees, aching for her to step beyond the barrier and come to him.
She hadn't been sure she could do "When You Call" for the show, but had to now. Marlene was talking, saying something, but the song had taken over her brain.
When you call, I can't say no. 'Cause when you call, I just gotta let go... wanna feel your arms around me... Oh! And when your eyes burn into me, I flash fire instantly. 'Cause when you call me, baby - I just come... to you... Call me, and I'll be there. When you call... Call me. I don't care. When you call... Anytime, anywhere -
"Uh, yeah," Marlene chuckled, apparently locked in on the lyrics, too.
"I can't help it," Damali easily laughed with her as she shook off the pain. "That's what was in me at the time, and I had to stay true to what I was feeling as an artist, make what I'm going through make some sense."
"Yeah," Marlene countered, "even though you can save that canned sound bite for the press, I have no issues with that - but have you noticed the instruments in your work?"
"I'm not following." Damali was about to flop back on the bed, but she leaned forward instead.
"Close your eyes and listen to 'In the Dark' in your head, and put the music behind it."
She didn't struggle with Marlene, although she struggled with herself. That song always messed her up, and she was wondering how she was going to stand on the stage and give that one all she had without bugging herself out. It was so personal, so close to the bone... so reminiscent of the things she shared with Carlos in the dark. Yet, this song also made her feel strong. She could see the performance as she allowed her mind to slip into it.
Brazil, yeah, the Carnaval headdress thing, she'd give them Carnaval, baby... sheer, peacock-feathered dress with gold running through it, goddess-level head piece - lights black out, then step out onstage into an azure-blue sheath of light from the darkness, and wail a lover's croon of agony... Shabazz's heavy bass kickin', Rider sensually walking his lead guitar to make the hair stand up on your neck, berimbaus, reed flutes, conga drums, cow bells, chimes, keyboards... awwww sookie, sookie, they was gonna rock da house! No... she'd save the blue for the other slow song. For this one, she'd wear a sheath of pure blood red. Sheer, with embroidery barely covering where it counted, and she'd step out into a splinter of crimson light. Yeah. Even though her baby wasn't there and hadn't told her what he should have, that was his color. She was a performer and would get through this. Just ride it out. That's what you had to do with pain.
Damali leaned her head back and belted out the ballad, husky, low, sensual, like her voice had recently become, unable to keep it inside her head or her heart any longer.
"In the dark, where you do what you do what you do to me, baby ... In the dark, blood... running through my deep rivers, baby ... In the dark... sissss... ohhhh... in the dark ... In the dark, yeah... you feel it with me, baby ... In the dark ... no shame in begging for what's so good to ya, baby - "
"Ya know what?" Marlene said laughing and standing up. "Do that song like that, and we'll have every freaking vampire in the hemisphere topside."
"Oh, please, Mar. It's not that bad. But it does sound good when Shabazz and Big Mike harmonize with me on the parts after I sing the in the dark part, right? Have you heard the way Shabazz just jams on his bass on that song, lady? Rider's ax just screams on it, too."
"Yes, I have to admit that this one is the one."
"Okay, then, we have no problem. We'll draw whatever came up from Hell and deal with it." Damali flopped back on the bed and let her breath out hard. Dang, she needed a shower.
"Oh, really?" Marlene sat down slowly again, sharing a sly smile. "Oh, with your costume, the stage speaker system blasting that out on however many watts per channel in an open-air stadium before a sold-out crowd, sending shock waves subterranean, crooning like that, girl - sheeeeit, the old vamps might come up from Hell for this concert! I'm not sure we have enough ammo."
All Damali could do was laugh. But it did give her an idea. Maybe Carlos might hear it? Maybe he'd already heard it? Naahhh... She disallowed the thought. His ass didn't need to be in Rio. Besides, it was over. "Okay, so what about the instruments? You asked if I had noticed the instruments."
"You've already incorporated this African-Brazilian sound in the music, well before we got a definite booking for this concert - it's infused in the latest cuts we just laid down for the gig. 'When You Call' has it, 'In the Dark' has it. Fine. But I kept watching your reaction to the environment... you blended into it like a chameleon, like you already knew it. You'd put it into your music even while you were still blind. Maybe we need to rethink that; maybe you weren't as blind as we thought? So, what happened in the lobby? The color drained from your face."
All she could do was stare at Marlene. Yeah, she knew Rio blind.
Chapter Thirteen
Damali sought Marlene's eyes, and all modesty fled as she sat up slowly. "Marlene, I felt Brazil running through my veins. I could taste the food, smell everything, knew the language, knew the landscape, and... and I felt myself calling him - hard. So much that I felt a presence... a highly erotic one, in broad daylight."