Chapter 4

They stood in a press behind the dark curtains, eager whispers flowing around her, and then the tense silence as each was called to give their performance. Siobhan pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling warm and lightheaded as if she had a high fever. She closed her eyes and the music seemed to swirl through her mind, drawing up the pool of energy inside her and lighting her mind with every note. The music was more alive than she ever remembered it being, like it was speaking to her in another language, one only she could understand.

Siobhan exhaled slowly, trying to push out the cord tight tension building inside her, but when she drew in a cleansing breath, it came to her rich in that otherworldly scent coming off the jacket she wore. Her knees felt weak and her head swam, but somehow the music held her up. The energy within her seemed to expand with each passing minute, stretching her tight and making her burn. She didn't know how much longer she could stand it.

"Siobhan O'Brien will perform Bring Me to Life from Evanescence," Mr. Smith announced from the stage. One of the girls near her nudged her when she didn't respond.

Siobhan stepped out onto the brightly lit stage, taking a moment to gather herself as her vision tried to adjust. She moved to the center of the stage where a single microphone was set up. Mr. Smith sat behind her on a bench next to a second microphone, positioned to catch the sound of his piano which he'd been using to accompany the performances. He smiled encouragingly and gestured for her to begin when she was ready.

Siobhan looked out into the audience, easily making out the other teachers who were helping to judge the tryouts. Her eyes swept back to the almost faceless forms further back, her fellow classmates who'd already performed and their families. And then she saw him, the young man who had loaned her the coat she was still wearing. He was in the last row of seats, under a dark overhang. In this light and from the distance he was just a dark outline, but she knew it was him. Her cheeks flushed and her heart seemed to pound within her.

She nodded slightly to show she was ready to begin and Mr. Smith began playing the first notes of the song she had picked for this event. "How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?" she pleaded softly, her eyes fixed on the dark figure. But as the music swelled, so did the power inside her and her voice belted out over the audience, pouring out her pain and loneliness. Power seemed to flow from her in waves, rushing out toward the stranger.

"Wake me up inside! Call my name and save me from the dark," she begged through the song. And as if the words changed everything, she could see him clearly in the dark, his black eyes glowing with that red fire, his expression intense, his hands weaving strange symbols over a silver button in his gloved hand, a red haze shifted over everything before he brought the button to his lips and whispered something.

She felt the power coiled inside her soar to burning heights. She shifted her stance, balanced on one leg so the other could slide forward, putting her closer to the microphone as if it were a lover. She raised her arms to trace the outline of her figure beneath the coat, and then lifted them higher to her mass of red-gold hair, lifting it from her shoulders and letting it fall like a silken cape. Her body moved to the words she sang, slow and sinuous, pulsing with her new found power. She sang for him, her dark stranger, her voice a tribute and a plea. She sang as if there was no one else in the room, or in the entire world.

She knew in some distant part of her mind that she wasn't singing Evanescence anymore, but something more primitive. Her words didn't even sound like English, but it didn't matter. Her voice was a warm caress against his cheek, a brush of her lips on his neck, her fingers in his hair. He slumped back in the chair, his hands clutching the arm rests, his head reclined back and his eyes half lidded. His slow smile spoke volumes of pleasure. He ran his tongue slowly across his lips.

Her breathing slowed and deepened as her skin tingled. The brush of his coat across her breasts caused her to tremble with a yearning she'd never known before. She was weak in the knees. She wanted something she could not put words to and his dark eyes made promises to uncover every hidden desire she possessed. And still she sang on, her voice and the piano blending and melding into a pulsing, insistent rhythm.

She closed her eyes to the burning intensity of his gaze and her mind drew images of the two of them together in the cool darkness. His hands on her shoulders warmed her flesh despite the insulation of her shirt and his coat. Then he raised his hand to gather her mane of hair, tugging it back in his closed fist to lift her chin and expose her long white neck. She leaned back toward his warmth and shivered when he emitted a low growl of pleasure.

The sudden loud clash of sound from the piano startled Siobhan. Her eyes flew open and she turned to find Mr. Smith staring over at her in disapproval. She blushed and straightened up, surprised that she had adopted the same pose she'd imagined in her mind and even more surprised that it seemed she could still feel the heat where she imagined the stranger's hands had touched her. She turned back toward the crowd expecting to see him, but the audience erupted in wild applause, surging to their feet as if they were at some celebrity's concert.

She shaded her eyes and tried to find him among the dark rows at the back of the auditorium, but he was gone as if he had disappeared into thin air. Siobhan looked back toward Mr. Smith, as if he could explain where the stranger had gone, but he was standing up and applauding her like the rest of the audience. She frowned in confusion and shook her head as if trying to clear it.

Siobhan felt hands on her shoulders, and realized those who'd still been behind the curtain had come out to congratulate her. They were all smiling, their voices full of praise. Beth Howard swept her into a warm hug. "You were amazing," Beth told her quietly.

Siobhan stared at them, a tingle of fear running through her. Why were they acting this way? It was all so surreal, like she'd stepped into someone else's life. She stepped back, moving away from the crowd that was circling her, fending off the hands that still reached out to pat her arms. A bubble of panic rose inside her when reality didn't snap back into focus around her. What the hell was happening?

Her stumbling backward progress ended when she ran into someone behind her and warm hands grabbed her shoulders. "It's alright," Mr. Smith said softly. "Calm down."

Siobhan looked up at him in surprise. "But – they…" she trailed off. Her hand gestured toward the people around her, still smiling and congratulating her, seeming oblivious to her reaction.

Mr. Smith's hands tightened their grip on her shoulders. The power remaining inside her seemed to drain away at his touch, as if she'd been charged with electricity and he was grounded. He shrugged in response to her confusion, removing his hands from her shoulders. "They found your performance enthralling."

Siobhan felt empty and cold, but her heart beat slowed back to normal and she managed a weak smile for her fellow students as Mr. Smith encouraged them back behind the curtain. She bowed to the audience, still clapping and cheering for her, and then stumbled down the steps at the end of the stage. The people in the audience were watching her as she passed, heading up the side aisle toward the exit sign.

"She should perform professionally," one woman said to her companion.

"I've never heard anything like it," a man remarked.

Siobhan passed through the doors as quickly as she could, retreating to the quiet lobby. Her breath escaped in a long exhale and a shaky hand moved to push her hair back off her face. With each passing moment, her memory of what happened seemed to fade. She remembered singing, a pair of black eyes lit from within, and an audience captivated by her performance. Everything else seemed too dreamlike. She breathed in and caught that scent from the coat, again. Her eyes widened in fear.

Could there be some sort of drugs on the coat? Was it Brimstone or Bane she was smelling? What would such a thing do to her? She hurried across the lobby to the coat rack where her familiar green jacket hung. She slipped reluctantly out of the silk-lined wool jacket, holding it in her hands for a moment. She should return it to him personally, but she was afraid. In her entire life, nothing like this had ever happened to her. She thought she might be losing her mind. If she didn't have the jacket in her hands, she could almost convince herself that she'd imagined the dark stranger.

She reached out to hang the coat on the rack and frowned when she noticed one of the buttons seemed to be missing. Had she damaged his jacket during her performance? The buttons were large and a bright silver color. She was sure that under normal circumstances she'd have noticed it if it had fallen off on stage.

"Thank you," she whispered, letting her fingers slide over the soft wool a final time before she reached for her own coat. Her jacket felt dry, even warm to her touch. She slipped it on and zipped it up, pulling the hood up over her head. It felt normal and right to be back in hiding within her green darkness. With each passing moment she became more settled, more like her normal self. She sighed and headed back toward the auditorium, hoping to catch the last performances. Nothing would be announced tonight. The judges' results would be posted in their classroom tomorrow.

The audience attention was focused on the stage as Beth performed Genie in a Bottle from Christina Aguilera. It was very sexy, Beth combining her excellent voice with suggestive dancelike movements. "If you wanna be with me, baby, there's a price to pay…"

Siobhan's eyes swept the audience a last time, but the dark stranger was gone. She bit her lip, torn between relief and regret. She slumped into an empty seat in the back row. She closed her eyes and remembered him circling her like a large predator when he put his jacket on her. And while the memory sent a thrill of fear through her, it was nothing compared to the heady sense of power she'd felt when she'd seduced him with her voice.