Page 6 of Midnight Serenade
I felt a drop in the pit of my stomach. I’d hoped to avoid the embarrassment of my weird affliction as much as possible on this trip. I guess that had been too much to hope for.
As always, I softened my voice, reminding myself that they couldn’t seem to help it. It wasn’t their fault. “Thank you, but no.” He looked as though he was about to protest, but before he could, I nodded at Sebastian. “I’m on a date right now.” My voice went even softer. “And it looks like you are, too.”
The man frowned in disappointment, but thankfully moved back to his seat with no further protest.
I was reluctant to meet Sebastian’s eyes, fearing what I’d see there, but when I looked up, I was surprised to find compassion and understanding.
“It’s difficult to have a lure that you can’t turn off, isn’t it?”
I looked at him in confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
He hummed in thought for a moment, looking surprised at my answer. After a minute or two, he said in a soft voice, “I think the only way to explain is to show you. Would you mind very much singing for the Starlight Lounge audience tonight?”
His dark green eyes bored into mine with utter surety that I could, in fact, sing. I could, but I wasn’t sure how he knew that.I usually just sang around my own home. I had an expensive karaoke set-up that I used weekly—sometimes daily. Singing had always been a stress release for me. Music was as much a part of me as writing was; sometimes more.
I fidgeted with my napkin again. “I don’t—“
“It’s the only way to prove what I’m about to say. Have you ever sung for an audience before?”
I shook my head, my silky hair brushing against my cheeks.
Part of me didn’t want to get up in the middle of a date that was finally going well and put myself in the vulnerable position of singing onstage for a bunch of strangers.
But hadn’t I come onto this ship for information about myself? If Sebastian knew anything about what I was, and singing was the only way to understand that information, then singing was what I’d do. I tossed my napkin on my empty dinner plate, stood up, and made my way to the stage. Sebastian must have given the band a signal, because when I took the steps up to stand in front of the empty mic, they didn’t chase me away.
The only way out is through. Just... knock their socks off.
I quietly told the band what song I would be singing and then pulled the mic from the stand. I preferred to hold it in my hands because I moved a lot when I sang. I knew this from way too much experience—and a few broken mic stands.
The lights dropped even further in the lounge, and the low, melodious sound of people talking went silent.
“Hello Starlight Lounge. My name is Grace, and I’m going to singI Put a Spell on Youin the style of Queen Latifah for you guys tonight. I hope you enjoy it.” I gave them a little wave and a wink, and then breathed in the persona I wanted until I put it on like a second skin. The opening notes started, and I sang, as sultrily as I could, into the mic, deepening my voice, giving it that signature rasp.
After the opening lines, I started walking through the throngs of velvet seats and the starlight tables. Every single eye was on me as a very soft spotlight followed my progress across the floor. My voice was raw and sultry, which was what I was aiming for. It was also, apparently, mesmerizing. Not a single person spoke. The only movement in the audience was when the audience’s eyes moved to follow me.
I didn’t stop at individual seats or tables long, but I slowed for some, sharing my energy with them, giving my softness, my certainty, my confidence in that moment. I became one with my audience, and my choice of song must have been a good choice, because it appeared as though I was weaving a spell around everyone. When I got to the part where the songwriter declared their love, even if the recipient of the song didn’t want it, I found myself in front of the table I’d shared with Sebastian. He was sitting back in his seat with his arms folded over his chest, following my every movement, just as everyone else was doing. But Sebastian’s eyes held a confusing mix of things: heat, satisfaction, and wry humor. As though he was silently laughing at me.
Which didn’t suit me, to be honest. Suddenly, I wanted him just as mesmerized and enthralled as everyone else in the room. I wanted him in the palm of my hand. I had never in my life been so bold, and I had no idea what was sweeping over me, but I discovered it was heady, and it feltamazing.
I perched on Sebastian’s lap as I finished the song, with my palm resting lightly on his chest as I sang the lastyou’re mine.
I ran out of words, and the song gracefully came to a close, resting on the room, as light as a feather, and as heavy as an anvil. The room seemed to hold its breath for a pause, and then there was a cacophony of sound. People stood and cheered, some whistled; I even heard a few people shout marriageproposals at me. I switched off the mic, laughing quietly, and buried my face in Sebastian’s neck, curling into him.
I didn’t know what I needed in that moment. I felt like I was flying, and yet I felt so drained at the same time. I needed an anchor, but also a steady hand, a steady gaze, and a strong wind to lift me higher. I was still laughing, unable to believe I’d just gone up and sang in front of strangers, when Sebastian’s arms wrapped around me and he cuddled me to his chest.
“Gracie Girl,” he growled, “that was the bestI Put A Spell On YouI’veeverheard.” And then he kissed me. The mic dropped from my numb fingers and thumped to the ground.
I kissed him back, forgetting my no kissing on the first date rule.
I was so caught up in the room's energy that I leaned into the kiss, grabbed his lapels, and pulled him even closer to me, really giving it all I had.
We pulled apart after a few blissful moments, and I stared at him wide-eyed.
My eyes widened even more when he whispered, “Welcome to the world of paranormals, Gracie.”
Chapter 3
Grace
