Succession of Witches Read Free Page B

thought of being Sam’s entourage as a show, a ploy to keep them safer from the d emons than they would be otherwise, but Cassie was afraid that Jay really did think of himself as some kind of underling. Worse, he liked being an underling.
    After what felt like hours, the members of NCWP began to take the stage. Cassie was only half-paying attention as a lanky man in tight red leather pants strolled confidently onto the stage and gave his bass guitar an experimental strum, while other leather-clad men took their places. She tapped her foot impatiently; where was Dwight already?
    “He looks different than he does at work, huh?” said Jay, resting his chin in his hands.
    “Who?”
    “ Dwight- who else?”
    “Huh?”              
    Cassie’s head snapped back towards the stage; her mouth dropped open as she realized that the man in skin tight, red leather pants was her boss.
    Since he was only a few inches taller than she was, Cassie had always thought of Dwight as a small man, but being on stage made him look larger than life. A thin black tank top revealed his chiseled, muscular arms, normally hidden by his loose polo shirts. Instead of wearing his hair in a neat ponytail, his long strawberry blond hair was loose, coming down nearly to his waist. With the stage lights behind him, his hair made him look like he was surrounded by tongues of flame. The long hair should have made him look feminine, but with the tight pants showing off his narrow hips, he looked anything but. A pair of fingerless gloves and shiny vinyl boots completed the flashy ensemble.
    Cassie stared for a good 30 seconds, unable to reconcile the man she saw before her with sweet, unassuming Dwight from the coffee shop.
    “Oh my God, I can’t believe it,” she said, “Our boss is hot.”
    “I’ll tell him you said that,” said Jay.
    “Hear those chicks screaming? I think he already knows,” said Cassie, smiling. Now that she was over the shock, she liked the fact that Dwight could be sexy when he wanted to be. Good for him.
    Sam leaned over to her and half-whispered in her ear. “He isn’t hotter than me though, is he?”
    Cassie nearly jumped out of her chair; where had that come from? That kind of playful, flirty comment was unlike him. Mike and Jay chuckled nervously at her reaction, clearly also surprised at what Sam had said. As she often did, Cassie took refuge in gross exaggeration.
    “No, master,” she said, rolling her eyes. “No mere human could ever be as hot as you. We worship at the altar of your hotness.”
    “No need to lay it on quite that thick,” said Sam, turning away from her as NCWP geared up to play. Cassie looked at him with a perplexed expression. What had he wanted her to say, anyway?
    The strange thing was , she wasn’t exactly lying. Despite the fact that his bloodlust disgusted her, she still found him incredibly attractive. That was part of the reason she’d been avoiding him; she could deal with hating him, or being afraid of him. Being attracted to him at the same time was just confusing, and it made her feel sick, like she was as broken and deranged as he must be.
    “Hellooooo Warehouse,” Dwight crooned into the microphone, rousing Cassie from this depressing revelry. “How you all doin’ tonight?” He grinned mischievously as the crowd erupted into positive yells and screams.
    “Nice — do me a favor and keep it that way,” he said, to more screams. He arched his back theatrically and played a deep note on his bass, pausing to let the sound resonate through the club. Before the chord could die out, the rest of NCWP launched into their first number, and within seconds, Dwight was singing.
    The group from The Daily Grind, including Sam, watched their manager perform with something akin to wonder. While they recognized the voice, a little hoarse and ever so slightly nasal, Dwight was every inch the rock star while he performed. While his singing voice was nontraditional, he enunciated