Bloody Angel. Book 2

Meanwhile, At the Ritual...

The sense of unease never left the Cardinal even after he tried to distract himself with Pre-Ritual checks and distractions. He even did vocal warm ups for longer than usual and partook in sharing a cigarette with Swiss and Dew, something he hasn’t done in years. Cumulus and Aether both tried to calm him down, the ghoulette giving him a much needed shoulder massage and Aether trying to distract him with work, but he kept finding his mind drifting towards Annie and her group. There was nothing overly extreme that he felt through their bond, but still… that unease only ate at him. As it drew nearer for them to perform, Copia dressed himself on autopilot, adjusting and readjusting his clothes even though they were perfect.

“Have you heard anything?” Copia asked Aether, once again ducking down to look in the mirror and smooth a hand over his hair.

“I told you already, caro. They haven’t contacted me. You need to stop stressing. No news is good news, right?”

Copia sighs and slumps down in the closest chair, elbow on the arm rest and his hand covering the lower half of his face with a nod. “Mi dispiace, caro. I cannot help but feel something is wrong. I worry, you know this.”

“I know. But right now you really need to focus on today.”

“Is it just me,” Copia starts as he leans back in the chair, hands folded over his stomach and one leg outstretched, “But there seem to be more people backstage today, no?”

“Might just be the venue, but I did notice that, too.”

“Papa is settled in his dressing room?”

“Si, he’s napping. You know how he is,” Aether laughs softly with a shake of his head.

“Tell me again why Papa wanted to come today?” Swiss asks from his spot on the couch next to Dew. Mountain was quietly drumming on a practice pad with earbuds in, Cirrus watching from her perch on the table next to him. “I don’t mind doing the bit. We all know his health isn’t the greatest lately.”

“He is a stubborn old goat who wanted to perform.” Copia sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not like I could simply tell him ‘no’. Even with reminding him of possible dangers he had his heart set on it so, he is here to do it.”


A knock at the trailer door drew their attention and Dew leaned over to open it. Kevin, one of the Siblings who acted as one of the stage managers, popped his head in with a smile. “20 minute warning, your Eminence. Seems like a good crowd out there.”

“Thank you Kevin. Can you have someone wake Papa shortly? You know how long it takes the old man to prepare.”

“I’ll get someone on it. Can I get you anything in the meantime?”

“That is not necessary. Thank you, Kevin.”

The bearded man bows his head and steps back out of the trialer, closing the door behind him. The group fell into an easy silence, relaxing and mentally preparing for the upcoming performance. And yet, Copia could still not fight the growing sense of unease.

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The beginning of the Ritual went off without a hitch. Kevin was right, the stadium was crowded with roaring fans watching with eager eyes as they performed. By the time they got to ‘Faith’ he was able to turn that nervous energy around, using it to fuel his performance even as the feeling of dread hinted at fear nagged at him. His voice was loud and clear as he sang, his movements fluid as he danced and strutted around the stage capturing the eyes of those below. He picked a random woman in the crowd when it was time for ‘Cirice’ and when he reached out to her, he could see in her eyes how she fell prey to his voice knowing he had convinced at least one other to follow them on their path once the Ritual was over. Panting after the long held note at the end of the song, he jogged off stage, coming around to watch from behind.