Voodoo Kiss - By Jayde Scott Page 0,2
boys and their dates plus the usual drunks, clapped half-heartedly. I muttered a thank you and goodnight to the crowd even though I knew no one was listening, and made my way out through the back entrance, inhaling the putrid smell of garbage cans and piss.
I leaned against the dirty wall facing the door and fished for the cigarette pack stashed inside the back pocket of my tiny leather skirt, then lit one, inhaling deeply. The smoke made me cough once or twice before my throat settled and the burning sensation in my eyes subsided. I had been smoking long before my sister died, but I still couldn't get used to it. As if my body protested against the slow poison destroying it from the inside. Or maybe Theo, who had never liked my habit, kept protesting from the Otherworld, influencing my unconscious. Either way, I took a final deep drag before tossing it on the ground and stomping on the burning tip, feeling depressed and disgusted with myself for no apparent reason.
The cool air blew my hair into my face. Wings flapped to my right, the sound making me flinch. Pressing my palm against my racing heart, I peered into the darkness stretching behind the garbage cans, almost expecting the irritating crow to stare back at me. But nothing moved.
"Silly," I muttered, feeling even sillier for talking to myself. Nothing a good night's sleep couldn't fix, if only I'd finally get some.
I walked back to the entrance and grabbed the doorknob when my hand froze. Someone was behind me. The smell of musk, candles and herbs invaded my nostrils. I could feel someone's hot breath on my exposed neck. My pulse accelerated, my mind stopped working. For a moment, I just stood there, devoid of any thoughts, before I turned to face him.
"Are you all right?" His voice came low and deep, but he sounded young. Maybe twenty or twenty-five. A dark hood hung over his forehead, and partially obscured his features. I squinted, trying to get a better look at him, but the lamp over the entrance door didn't give enough light.
"You want in?" I nodded and stepped aside to let him into the club, but when I turned my head he disappeared right before my eyes.
I peered to the left and right, wondering where he'd gone, or whether my mind was playing a trick on me. A few sleepless nights and two painkillers could sure enough make one imagine things. Unless he could sprint ten feet to reach the corner in two seconds, the guy couldn't have been there because the alleyway had been empty when I left the club, and it sure was empty now.
No, I couldn’t have seen anyone. My imagination was running wild. It tended to do that a lot lately, particularly after Theo's death. Inhaling the freezing night air, I wrapped my arms around me to stop me from shivering and counted to ten, then left.
When I returned to the tiny room behind the stage, my band mate slash rookie, manager and everything else, Aaron, had packed away my guitar and was now loading our equipment into the van. Most clubs had an amplifier, speakers and microphone for the odd karaoke night, but as semi-professionals we prided ourselves on using our own stuff, even if we could barely afford paying the rental fee on the van.
"Want me to drive you home?" Aaron asked from the driver's seat. I shook my head as I regarded his spiky green hair and the ring piercing his lower lip. He looked more like a punk than a rocker. Then again, Aaron had never been one to fit into a group, stereotype or otherwise.
"Suit yourself," he said and started the engine. I watched him speed off in the distance, then returned to the bar to call myself a taxi. As much as I would've wanted to take him up on the offer because I really couldn't afford another taxi drive home, I knew it was for the best. Better to avoid another jealousy fueled fight with Gael before we even went on our first vacation together.
The taxi ride home to my tiny apartment in Brooklyn took about fifteen minutes, which I spent leaning my head against the cold glass as I watched my distorted face in the car window. The streetlights illuminated my recently dyed jet-black hair and emphasized the dark shadows under my eyes. Gael had said he preferred my ash blonde hair. His superficial statement still