Jane Godman - The Unforgettable Wolf

“Khan.” Nate said the single word as though it explained everything.

There was no doubt about it. Beast delivered a spine-tingling performance. As the number reached its end, Diablo pounded out a crescendo and Nate slid his palm over the neck of his guitar, fingers caressing the frets, the instrument dropping down between his muscular thighs as he lunged. Torque and Dev played back-to-back in the center of the stage, and Khan howled out the final chorus while lying on his back and dry-humping the air.

As the final chords died away and the crowd went demented, Khan leaped to his feet. Tilting his head back and holding his arms wide, he half yelled, half growled, “Guten Abend, Berlin!”

If it was possible, the noise from the audience grew even wilder until Nate pointed the remote control at the TV set and muted it. Shifting in his seat, he viewed Violet’s face. “And that’s Beast.”

“Wow.” She was stunned by what she had just seen. By what he was a part of.

They were seated in a small room off the larger living area of the band’s tour bus. In addition, Violet had seen a kitchen, shower room, two restrooms and a long narrow hall lined with bunks. Nate had explained that they used hotels when they could, but the bus was their home away from home when they were on the road. While they were waiting for the others to arrive, Ged had suggested showing her the film of the band.

“I wanted you to watch this before you met them. Beast is not like any other band,” he explained now. There was a note in his voice that troubled her.

Violet turned her black leather chair to face Ged. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the band’s manager. Ged Taverner was a huge, dark, brooding figure with eyes that seemed to see right inside her soul. “I see what you mean.”

He stared at her for a long silent moment. “I’m not sure you do...but you will.”

* * *

Nate kept one eye on Violet as the men who had saved his sanity climbed—or, in the case of Khan, erupted—onto the tour bus. All at once, the vast, glossy space was filled with noise and virility. It was always like this when the five of them were together. Not so much a competition, more an unconscious demonstration of strength. The band members were such a closely knit group that they had developed their own brand of masculine pride. With five huge competing egos, it sometimes looked like machismo gone wild. Only they knew the truth. Only they knew the real story. And Ged knew it all, of course. He was the man who had brought them together. The man who had saved them.

When the backslapping and calculated insults were over, Nate spoke up, his voice cutting across the clamor. “Guys, this is Violet. She’s joining us for the tour.”

Four pairs of eyes turned to study Violet. Diablo’s were gold with haunted shadows in their depths, Torque’s gray with multicolored moonstone flecks; Dev’s were like chips of ice and Khan’s a brilliant, unrelenting amber. He could feel Violet’s unease as she was caught in their combined beams. Nate knew what the others were thinking. Saw it in Khan’s altered stance and the way he licked his lips. A flash of anger ripped through him. No way.

“She’s with me.” He kept his voice level, but his eyes challenged them. Don’t even think about it.

Slowly, the others relaxed. The coiled tension unwound. The macho posturing gave way to casual welcome. Nate had staked a claim to Violet that the others would respect. None of them had ever brought a girl on tour before. Oh, there had been plenty of women sharing those bunks. Plenty of wild nights and crazy days. But no one had ever started out by introducing someone to the band, announcing that she would be accompanying them. It was a new dynamic. He knew Ged was watching closely, observing how it would work out.

“Welcome to the zoo, Violet.” Torque’s brilliant smile flashed. He brushed back his long, flame-red hair, his movements quick-fire. Torque didn’t know how to be still. “Beast. Zoo. Get it?” Violet smiled, and Nate could see some of the tension draining out of her. Torque wandered away to stow his belongings under his bunk.

“Has Nate made coffee yet?” It was Dev’s drawling voice.

“No.” Violet looked wary. Dev’s uncanny stillness and watchfulness always had that effect when people met him for the first time.

“Good. Nate’s an Englishman. He can’t make coffee for shit.” Cool as ever, Dev strolled off in the direction of the kitchen.

Watching him, Violet was taken by surprise as Khan grasped her hand and pressed his lips to it. “Nate should have introduced you to the most important person first, beautiful Violet. I am Khan.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Violet said, casting a helpless glance up at Nate.

“Naturally. Everybody is.” Khan’s voice was a purr as he went to his bunk. Nate knew from experience he would curl up and be asleep in seconds, leaving his luggage strewn in everyone else’s way.

Diablo was always the unpredictable one. In the end, he muttered something that could have been a welcome, but might just as easily have been a curse, as he went to join Dev in the kitchen.

Nate drew Violet down to sit on one of the large, squashy sofas that lined the living area. “These are the people you will have to live in close proximity with over the coming weeks, maybe months.” He didn’t mention that the tour was scheduled to last just over a year. Surely her memory would have returned by then. “What do you think?”

“I think I need another blow to the head.” She gave a shaky smile. “Seriously? I think I’ve totally disrupted your life...and theirs. Are you certain you want me along?”

The question shook him. Gazing at her, Nate tried to analyze what he was feeling. This wasn’t about his sense of responsibility toward her. It wasn’t because she needed him to come to her rescue and care for her. Are you certain you want me along? He wanted her. It was that simple. And that complicated.

“After a few hours cooped up with us, you may wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into. Torque’s zoo comment wasn’t far wide of the mark.” He stretched his long legs in front of him. “The schedule is punishing. We’re crossing the Channel to France tonight and starting the European leg in Paris. Things will get really frantic in a month or two when the US tour begins.”

“How many of you are American?”

He should have foreseen she would want to know more about them. Questions about their backgrounds weren’t easy to answer, but they had come up with a biography that suited them. Over the years, they had honed it so it satisfied even the most pressing journalist. Even so, he didn’t feel comfortable telling Violet a series of half-truths. “I’m English, as you know. Diablo is Native American. Khan is from India and Dev comes from Nepal.”

Violet accepted his explanation without further comment. “And Torque?”

Ah, Torque. The hardest one of all to explain. “He’s well traveled.”

“A child of the world, that’s me.” Torque returned carrying coffee. “Wherever I lay my well-worn beanie, that’s my home. So it begins. Diablo has just threatened to kill Khan for stealing the best bunk.” He raised his cup in a mock toast, those curious, mercurial eyes shifting color. “Welcome aboard, Violet.”

As he spoke, the engines rumbled into life and the gigantic bus rolled out into the traffic.

* * *

The band was going to spend the afternoon at the stadium engaged in rehearsals. Nate explained the way it worked. Their entire stage, video and lighting rig was in duplicate, so while one stage was being erected in one city, the other one was on its way to the next venue ready to be set up there.

“It’s a luxury not many bands can afford. A huge crew of professionals travels ahead of us to set everything up, so all we have to do is turn up and perform. All part of the mystery that is Ged Taverner and his billions.”