Silverthorn Read Free Page A

grabbed the stick. Hooking my foot under the vamp’s ankle, I swept his leg out from under him. I scampered over, lifted the drumstick, and slammed it into the vampire’s heart.
    The vamp’s body lay still and then…a barely audible poof registered. His body exploded into a cloud of dust that settled onto the ground around her. Zephora’s eternal enchantment had kicked into effect: upon death, every paranormal creature turned to dust to eliminate detection by humanity. I suspected that, having just transformed into a vampire, the man had no idea how to control his newfound abilities, making him both dangerous and prone to both overestimating his own power and underestimating in a fight to the death.
    One more wave of excitement ruptured through the crowd. They jumped up and down, looking left and right, eager to catch every moment of the action occurring before them.
    Another vamp raced toward Kendall, but Nolan swept in front of her and bashed the vampire in the mouth. His velocity, more than the punch, redirected his path. He spun in the opposite direction…toward me.
    I did the only thing that sprang to mind. I slipped the guitar strap off my shoulder, cranked the acoustic behind me, and swung it at the vampire’s head.
    The wood crashed against the vamp’s head, surely doing no damage, but with splintered pieces showering across his field of vision, he slowed down, wincing.
    Seeing yet one more musician destroying her guitar on stage, only to actually do something other than just break a fine instrument, the concertgoers clapped and yelled their approval.
    While he regained his wits, I grabbed the neck of the guitar, clamping down on the six strings that shimmied in every direction to keep them from popping me in the eyes. Just as he veered back toward me, I plunged the neck of the guitar into the vamp’s heart.
    He arched backwards, grabbed hold of the pike in his chest, and screamed. He fell to his knees and collapsed onto his back. He tried to remove the wood from his heart, but his hands were too slick with blood to dislodge the foreign object. A second later, he released a final breath and lay still. Then his body burst into dust, the result of an enchantment Zephora put into place centuries ago to cover up the death of any paranormal creature so that evidence of magical creatures remained non-existent.
    As the residue filtered across me, I realized that the band kept playing. Despite the attack, no one had missed a beat.
    In response, the crowd jumped up and down as if trying to catch every snippet of action on stage. With every glance at the audience, I’d noticed that each person seemed entertained, rather than frightened or worried by what took place. They seriously had no idea that this was not part of our stage show. With the exception of top notch heavy metal bands, who could afford to spend a tremendous amount of money on producing a spectacular stage show that included a variety of lasers and lights, smoke, and even fire, our band wouldn’t come close to making enough from our music in order to afford such a grandiose stage production. Therefore, it shocked me that those in attendance hadn’t given that fact some thought. Perhaps everything happened too fast for them to process things.
    Since I’d forgotten about adding my vocals to finish the song, Nolan had finished his guitar solo and focused on rhythm guitar while holding the microphone stand and singing into the mike. He pointed into the crowd.
    I followed his aim and noticed that the three vamps that had made their way down from the balcony had just leapt over the guardrail. As one, all three swung their heads toward me and glared.
    Those death stares sent my blood pressure rocketing. With the crowd in a frenzy and the band completely in sync while jamming louder and faster than ever before, I couldn’t take on the three vampires that now rushed the stage if they attacked me simultaneously. Only one solution presented itself, one that