Palace Of Flames (Book One of the Damnata Series)

Chapter Two: London In Terror

[Kristy]

I can hear the strumming, banging and bum-notes of my band mates practising behind me. I close my eyes, blocking out the noise as I practise my singing for tonight. But then I have to stop singing as I hear a bang, a twang and a yelp behind me. I sigh deeply, and flip through my song-sheets, finding a different song to practise. Then I hear another yelp, and feel like kicking something. "Okay, for God's sake, Andy, what the hell are you yelping about!?"

I turn around, and he is clutching his hand protectively, grimacing. I can see the blood dripping from the large scarlet gash across his hands, and three of the strings of his blue Gibson electric guitar are snapped and coiled-up at both ends. "Andy, you... You twat! What the hell?"

"Over-tuning. It can happen from time to time." He growls, and my face falls flat.

"Are you going to be able to play like that?

Alex and Jake, the Illingworth Twins, drop their instruments and creep closer to Andy, crouching down and doing a full-scale study of his hand. Jake lifts Andy's hand slightly, and gains a punch in the face as a reaction. The Twins both whistle softly in some kind of "approval" at the wound, gaining two deep frowns from Tay and I, and a threat for another punch in the face from Andy. After about a minute or so, the Twins stand up, looking to me and shaking their heads solemnly, light brown hair tossing around wildly on each of their identical heads as they do so.

"It's cut pretty damn deep." Jake sighs, and Alex rests against Jake's shoulder.

"You'll need to see a doctor or something about that." They both sigh in unison, and Andy growls slightly.

"A bandage'll do just fine, I think." Tay says helpfully. "Although with your hand like that, you must've damaged a nerve or a muscle something. Maybe going to hospital would be best-"

"But I can't; I need to stay here and play-"

"Jake and I can just change the set-list a little..."

"To non-screamy songs." Jake finishes for his twin. The Twins are always like this: finishing each other's sentences, doing everything together...it's weird as hell. And it's almost impossible to grow accustomed to.

"But we'll still need a guitarist, and we only have a few hours until the gig starts!" Tay frowns. I scowl down at the floor as the others debate, and then someone clears their throat, a vaguely familiar voice ringing out.

"I could help with that."

I turn around to meet the almond-shaped chocolate-brown eyes of a tall, young male, his hair as black and shapely as a raven's folded wing, sweeping to the right side of his pale and rounded face. His eyes are framed with thick, dark lashes and outlined with thick black eyeliner. He is clad in a black shirt and a black suit-jacket, black jeans covering his long legs. His hands are clasped behind his back, and his smile is just a slight lifting of the corners of his red lips. He looks up at me from the foot of the stairs to the stage, and his smile widens slightly, although still quite nonchalantly and subtly, just as I've always remembered.

Tay giggles, and Jake and Alex say something in a sing-song voice that sounds like "instant connection".

"Laurence!" I gasp, and move quickly, jumping down from the stage and firing into his waiting arms. "Where have you been?" I ask, hugging him tightly, and he chuckles slightly to himself.

"Uh...I've been doing some things of my own." He smiles, and I grin back.

"God, you've changed so much! You cut your hair, your face got paler- Wait, you're wearing eyeliner?!"

"Uh...yeah." His laugh is nervous, is smile full of uncertainty.

"It looks good."

Jake and Alex gasp. "You're pretty now! Oh my God!" They fan-girl too much, despite the fact that they're both guys. Questionably straight guys, but guys nonetheless.