LITMIR.BIZ

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it occurred to Sarange that she could have felt intimidated. Although her bodyguard was standing by the door, this guy looked like he could wrestle a bear with one arm tied behind his back. Instead, Ged radiated a curiously protective aura.

      What was he saying? He wanted to show her something?

      “I’m sorry. I don’t have time...”

      “This won’t take long.” He placed a hand under her elbow, his touch gentle but firm. The sensation of being swept along by forces beyond her control took over again. What was it about these people? Ever since she had encountered Khan, her life hadn’t been her own. Did that extend to his whole entourage?

      They left the meeting room and Ged led her to the elevator. As he gestured for her bodyguard to wait, Sarange tried another protest. “I’ve wasted enough time traveling to New York for a meeting that has proved pointless. I can’t see any reason to hang around.”

      “Five minutes.” She capitulated, nodding to the guard to meet her at the car. Ged smiled as he pressed the button for the basement. “Thank you.”

      After exiting the elevator, they followed a short corridor. “Although the members of the band come from all over the world, once Beast became famous, they all moved here to New York. We tried a number of different recording studios before we settled on this one.”

      “If they come from all over the world, how did they get together?” Sarange didn’t want to be intrigued by Beast. Didn’t want anything to do with the world’s greatest rock band and its purring, strutting, infuriating frontman, but Ged’s words interested her in spite of herself.

      “I brought them together.” Why did she sense a huge story lay behind that simple statement? In spite of their dynamic personalities, Beast didn’t give much away about their private lives. Biographical details about the band members were scarce. In the past, Sarange had curled her lip at what she believed was a publicity ploy. The enigmatic tough guys of rock. She wondered for the first time what they were hiding.

      Ged held open a door, motioning for her to precede him. When Sarange stepped inside, she was in a recording booth. From behind a clear glass panel, she could see a small, circular stage. Khan was seated on a stool in its center. He had drawn his wild mane of red-gold hair back with a simple elastic band, and his head was bowed as he clutched a microphone to his chest. His whole attitude was despairing.

      Sarange turned to regard Ged. This didn’t feel comfortable. It felt a lot like she was intruding on Khan’s privacy.

      “I’ve known him to spend hours perfecting a single note.” Ged’s voice was quiet as he looked over her head at the lone figure on the other side of the soundproof glass. “This side of Khan doesn’t fit with his public image. The stage persona, the guy who’d laugh in the devil’s face? That takes a hell of a lot of hard work.”

      He flicked a switch as he spoke and Khan’s voice filled the booth. The song wasn’t one of Beast’s. It was an old love song, with a sweet melody, haunting in its intensity. Khan didn’t apply any of his usual vocal fireworks to this performance. Alone, unaware of his audience, and with no backing music, he closed his eyes, pouring his heart into the song.

      As she listened, tears burned the back of Sarange’s eyelids. What was it about this man? Where had this invisible thread that pulled her to him come from? And how the hell was she going to sever it? She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that Ged had shown her Khan had another side to him. Would it have been easier to walk away believing he was shallow and self-absorbed? Khan had given her no choice. She had to walk away. It was never going to be easy.

      Ged waited until Khan had finished singing before he spoke. “His vocal range is unique. Khan can sing opera just as easily as rock.”

      As if to demonstrate, Khan started to sing again. The same ballad with a slightly different emphasis. There was something rawer in the emotion this time. God, he could tell a story with that voice! The last version had made her think of unrequited love. This one was a whole lot hotter. It conjured up visions of steamy sex and crumpled sheets...and it made her whole body burn.

      “Who is he?” She tilted her head back to look at Ged. The question, coming out of nowhere, surprised her.

      Ged didn’t falter. “He is Khan.” Ged said it as though it clarified everything. And maybe it did. Khan was one of a kind, defying explanation. “This campaign you have with the blue wolves, is that because of your own heritage?”

      “I certainly have an interest in their plight because I was born in Mongolia, but that’s not the only reason I want to help.” She still wasn’t sure why she felt so fiercely about this pack of wolves. Her homeland, heritage, Mongolian folklore...none of those things could quite account for the intensity of emotion this cause aroused in her.

      “You must know that’s not what I meant.”

      Sarange frowned. “What else could you possibly mean?”

      Ged’s expression was unfathomable. It reminded her of the look in Khan’s eyes when he had called her “wolf girl” just before she initiated that devastating kiss. What is it with these people and wolves? Was it to do with the name Beast? Were they looking to use wolves for some sort of gimmick? Ged was staring at her as if she was an alien being. As if he couldn’t make up his mind what to do about her.

      Enough was enough. Whatever his problem was, she really didn’t have time to spend analyzing it. On balance, she decided she was glad Ged had shown her this other side of Khan. Although her pride was still stinging, it helped to know he wasn’t the one-dimensional jerk of first appearances.

      She turned toward the door. “You’re Khan’s friend. Why does he hate me?”

      Ged took a last look at the lone figure. “Khan doesn’t really do friendship. And it’s not you he hates—” he flicked the switch, and the booth went silent “—it’s himself.”

      * * *

      Beast had won Best Band at the Rock the World Awards for the last two years. This year, when they burst onto the stage to receive the award for the third time, Khan looked out at the sea of faces in the vast audience with a feeling close to apathy. The great and good of the music industry were gathered under one roof to honor their own, but there was only one person he wanted to see. He already knew Sarange wasn’t there. If she’d been there, he’d have felt her.

      They were in her town, yet she’d stayed away. It was her message to Khan. He knew she felt this invisible, unbreakable thread as powerfully as he did. By not attending this prestigious ceremony, she was showing him she was stronger than he was. She didn’t need to see him. Didn’t need the buzz that came from his nearness. This was what he’d wanted, yet the despair he felt was like a giant rock sitting on his chest. How could he miss what had never been his? All he knew was there was an aching hole in his life that could only be filled by Sarange. How was he ever going to learn to deal with this constant gnawing pain?

      Beast was closing the award ceremony with a number from its new album. It was time to don his rock star persona and do what he did best...drive this crowd wild. Doing it when his heart had just been ripped out and his limbs felt like lead? That would be a new experience.

      The way the band played together had always been creative and intuitive. Each member was individually talented, but when they came together they became so much more. Maybe it came down to what they’d all been through before they got together. Their music did the talking because their emotions had been shredded. From Khan’s raw yipping, screeching tones, through Diablo’s wild drumming to Finglas’s haunting bass lines, their unique sound pulsed with primal energy.

      Physically they complemented each other perfectly as well. Each member of the band had his unique, onstage personality. Khan was all strutting, purring egomania. Diablo was solitary, stealthy and quick tempered. There was Torque with his quick-fire restlessness and Dev, in contrast, who remained cool and aloof. Finglas was the newest addition to the band. The young Irish werewolf had replaced Nate Zilar, the long-standing bass guitarist, and was just finding his place among the big personalities.

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