Page 77 of Unmarked Magic

“He’s at the bar.” The slam of Colt’s pickup door shutting jarred my mind.

Cursing under my breath, I swung around to the passenger door, sliding him a sideways glare. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m sure.” He fisted the steering wheel. Chewed his cheek.

I huffed out a breath as he drove a little further down the street to where Jinxed was located. I would usually wave at locals or check out who sat in the window at Coffee Cove, but not today. I wasn’t expecting Colt to break the silence when he did.

“Not taking that tonic has changed him,” he said a little too evenly, as if forcing himself to keep calm.

I flicked each nail against my thumb, my nerves getting the better of me. “Changed him how?”

“There are things you don’t know about, Scar. Things that only he can tell you.”

“I know,” I countered, holding his gaze for much longer than one should at the wheel of a vehicle.

He gave me a pointed look. “What do you know?”

I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing the sleeves of my jacket. “Enough to know why he came home covered in blood that night. Balancing nature and all that.”

Colt gave a silent nod, gripping the wheel tighter.

“That’s what you’re talking about, right?”

Jinxed came into view ahead, and I admired the stonework on its exterior. It was nice to see it in daylight for a change.

He pulled into a vacant park outside the door. “Yeah, but…”

We stepped out of the pickup, and my attention turned toward the bar, confused when I heard music. It was far too early for a band to be playing.

Curiosity veered my footsteps into the main bar. As soon as we entered; they faltered, my feet suddenly unable to move. Colt’s did the same.

On stage, Reid sat behind a drum kit, bare chested and wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. A gnarly rock song purged from the speakers of the bar, hitting my ears like a slap to the face, so loud I could barely hear myself think. Lost in the song, he didn’t notice his new audience as he continued to play.

Each hit of the drums struck me in the chest, like we were sharing this moment. Like I felt what he did. I loved seeing him like this. So expressive and unguarded. The muscles in his chest tightened, veins in his arms becoming more obvious the harder he let himself go, surrendering to the track. Letting it take all of him. It was so hot to see him this way.

“This isn’t good,” said Colt from beside me.

Was he insane?

“He’s amazing!” I countered.

Colt walked past me, stopping to grip the back of a lounge chair closer to the bar. The tension in his back rippled as he leaned forward, his eyes focused hard of Reid. “He never plays the drums.”

I walked up beside him, leaning on the chair. “He played the other night, remember?”

Colt didn’t take his eyes off Reid. Not for a second. “Yeah. But he didn’t want to.” The second track finished, and he moved straight into a third. This one kicked up a notch. “Something’s wrong.” The way he said it held no room to question him. Like what he said was final. Right then, I believed him.

Reid’s chest heaved, his eyes closing like he didn’t even need to see the drum kit. Like all he needed was to feel. The words bled through the speakers, This is just a kiss before you die, and, like an omen cloaked in darkness, the lyrics splintered my eardrums, smashing into the bar’s walls, imprinting them with death’s kiss.

To see him this way was like meeting a stranger. Learning him all over again. I was seeing him stripped bare. It was vulnerable. Raw. And devastatingly tragic that he never played like this, ever. Not even the other night. This was different in ways I couldn’t put into words.

I felt the mate bond tingle down my spine the more I watched him. Felt the need to praise him for letting me bear witness to this side of him. Warmth stirred in my lower belly, and only then did he fleetingly look up to find me staring. Our connection was instant, and he held my gaze, igniting my insides like oxygen would a smoldering ember.

When the track finally finished, silence took hold of the bar. Swiping his forearm over his brow, he stood, chest shining, muscles taught. Dropping the drumsticks to the floor, they landed with a clatter.

Still, he stared. But something wasn’t right.

Colt looked back at me, and I caught his worried glance momentarily.