Resurrect: (Lycan Academy of Shapeshifting: Operation Shift Book 1) Read online

  I grunted as I threw my guitar case strap back over my head and aching shoulder then trudged onward to the university building.

  I stopped and stared at the tall structure before me with my luggage in one hand and my guitar strap in the other. Students were already filing in and carting boxes and suitcases to their dormitories and flats. I just stood there staring up at the building as if it was some sort of insane asylum. A place where only the craziest of people could possibly want to volunteer to walk inside. A sneer crossed over my face. My chin started to tremble. Rocks started forming at the back of my throat and I struggled to swallow. I reached for my heart in my chest. It was beating faster and faster by the second.

  ‘Is this what a panic attack feels like?’

  The other girls were dressed similar to me in their somewhat formal clothes. The guys had their hair in perfect styles to appear as smart and clean cut as possible. I was the biggest contradiction standing there before the massive building. My clothes said professional. My hair and makeup said rock and roll. Everything my father loved and despised all balled up into one slender female body.

  I raised my head to look at the staggering building before me. The statues on either side of the stairs leading to the entrance seemed like a gateway to hell. One that would keep me trapped in a dungeon of my own making because I didn’t have the courage to tell my dad no.

  I turned around and quickly walked away, ducking into a nearby cafe and sitting down in the corner, waiting for my heartbeat to calm down and opening up the upper button of my blouse so I could get some air. My chest was red and covered in small spots. I was sweating. My messy curls were starting to look more like beach waves. It wasn’t my best look.

  “What will it be, love?” a man asked me with a notepad in his hand, waiting to take my order.

  I shoved my guitar case into the booth beside me and took a deep breath before speaking. “Tea, I guess.”

  He nodded and turned around to get my order. Once he brought it to me, I dumped some of the table sugar inside and stirred it gently, watching it dissolve as others chatted all around me. It was a few minutes of sitting there playing with my bracelet before I realized that I hadn’t really escaped. This was a university cafe. There were students all around me asking the usual questions to one another.

  “What’s your field?”

  “Which courses are you taking?”

  “What year are you?”

  “Ah, you have that professor. His exams are the worst.”

  The rocks in the back of my throat only became easier to swallow as I took a sip of the hot tea and rested my head against the booth.

  This wasn’t me. None of it was. It was what my dad wanted. I knew it came from a somewhat good place. He wanted me to succeed. To follow in his path. I was his last hope. Even though the majority of it was gone when my brother died.

  Maybe that was it. I didn’t want to see my dad lose all hope. Dirk was gone. I watched his coffin being carried into the family crypt along with my dad’s spirit. He stayed strong for the funeral and the wake. He didn’t even shed a tear. But I could see the emptiness in his eyes. And as much as I wanted to hate him for being a stuck up prig, I loved him. Disappointing him felt like failing on some level.

  “I’m sorry, Dirk,” I whispered as I took a final sip of my tea and left a tip on the table for the waiter. “I can’t please him anymore than you could. Not anymore.”

  I got up from the booth and took the guitar into my hands, choosing the other shoulder to hold it given that my right one really needed the break.

  Then I marched back to the tube and got on with a single destination in mind. Once I was off and walking down the familiar streets of Camden with its crazy shops and tourists shuffling about, I reached for my phone and looked up the address Jamie gave me weeks back when he asked me to visit. I refused his invite because…you guessed it… my dad disapproved.

  After a cab ride and a few missed turns through the narrow streets, I finally found the right place.

  The building wasn’t much to look at but I was used to lower standards. The first three years after mum left my dad with my brother and me, we lived in a tent outside the nicest cities and towns I had ever seen. Paris, Nice, Bordeaux, Strasbourg, Milan, Dresden, Nuremberg and so many more. I was fluent in French, German and Italian by the time I was thirteen. But such a cultured living took its toll. My mother could show us the high life during the day and let us experience the best Europe had to offer but we always ended up back in the tent at night. It taught me one thing that I never forgot. I could have a reasonably good life with far less than what most people could.

  I released the tension in my shoulders and let out a breath before taking out my phone and dialing Jamie’s number.

  “You got a key you can give me?” I asked as soon as he picked up.

  “What? Did you lose the one to your guitar case again?”

  I snickered. “No. I need one for my new accommodation.”

  “My lot can’t afford Kings College, love.”

  “I won’t be able to either after tonight.”

  He must have taken the hint because I heard a shuffle of footsteps go down a flight of stairs a little too fast. Followed by a grunt and a crash. I could only imagine he tripped on the last step and fumbled into the door. When he opened it and saw me standing there I greeted him with a mocking smile.

  “What, Jamie?” I beamed. “Have you never seen business casual attire before?”

  He pushed back his shoulder-length hair, not entirely sure if he was seeing straight. “Not on the likes of you. I have to say, darling, the look doesn’t work for you.”

  “Good thing I have my tight jeans in my suitcase then. I hear your short a guitar player for the gig tonight.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually into the door frame. “I dunno. Maybe we’ll get by. We don’t want anyone too stuffy hurting our style.”

  I shook my head. He knew taking jabs at my father’s chosen lifestyle was the quickest way to get me angry. I refused to take the bait. Not this time.

  “You’ll have to sweeten up if that couch is still available. I don’t want a complete arsehole for a flatmate.”

  2

  Jamie, Oliver, and Luella sat on the couch behind the stage at a local pub. One I had been to a handful of times with Dirk to see other bands play. He was always so good to me. He took me to see every band I wanted even though he couldn’t hear the music. On the condition of course that I went to art shows with him for company. It was our trade. One we kept to after we moved back in with dad a few years back. And the reason why he and dad always fought. He wanted to go to art school. Dad wouldn’t have it. Sound familiar?

  I stood up and went to look behind the curtain. It was a packed house. People were carousing around, sipping beer and dancing to the latest hit rock song on the radio. My eyes darted to the back corner where Dirk and I used to sit. He was the one who introduced me to Jamie and told me to play the guitar for him to see if I was any good. Dirk obviously couldn’t tell but he knew that the lyrics I would stay up late to write were alright. He said they were downright poetic but I haven’t read enough to know any better.

  That was when Jamie asked me to start playing guitar for the band. Oliver and Luella absorbed me into their pack as if I was born to be there playing with them all along. It was the quickest I had ever made friends in my life. And the most fun I had since we left the continent after mum died and we were forced to live with my dad.

  The chairs where Dirk and I used to sit were occupied by two other people. A random guy I had never seen and one familiar face. When he turned around from the edge of the bar and I caught a glimpse of his face in the dim light my heart nearly skipped a beat.

  It was the man from the train. The incredibly gorgeous yet creepy stalker that I practically hurried away from in the underground. I closed the curtain before he could see me peeking from backstage.

  “What’s wrong?” Oliver asked as
he twirled his drum stick in his hand from the couch.

  “Nothing. It’s just a bigger crowd than I expected.”

  “You have to get used to big crowds, Riley,” Luella said as she applied more blusher to her cheeks in the vanity near the back. “They’ll only get bigger as time goes on.”

  “You have that much faith that we’ll have success?”

  “With you back in the mix I think we stand a fair chance,” she said with a wink.

  “Oh, please,” Jamie said from the couch. “They’re here for the eye candy. You girls play well enough but girls always draw in the crowd. Then we’ll win them over with the music. It’s not every band that has girls for both guitar and bass.”

  I chuckled and tried to hide the real reason why I was nervous. Sure, it had been a week or two since I played but that guy was in the back of the bar. And he would definitely recognize me. I changed out of the god awful business attire and into something more fitting of the occasion. My tightest pair of distressed jeans with ripped holes on the upper thigh, knee-high leather boots that made my legs look sexy as hell, a white tank top of hole across the belly to show off my flat abs, and just enough of a dip at the chest line to leave the men in the crowd wanting more. Then I topped it off with messy curls and my usual bright red lipstick and dark eyeliner. I looked the part. And I felt like myself again.

  “You’re up,” said the manager of the pub. Jamie and Oliver got up from the couch and stared at Luella who was still applying makeup in the back.

  “Come on,” they demanded as she put the final touches of her mascara on.

  “You said yourself that they’re here for us ladies,” she sassed them. “I can’t disappoint.”

  Oliver watched as Luella walked by him with her insanely tight leather trousers. Even tighter than mine. His eyes were glued to her butt.

  ‘Could you be more obvious Ollie? We don’t need the band breaking up because you have an unrequited crush. Especially after I probably just estranged myself from my dad for life.’

  Jamie held the curtain open and we all walked out toward the stage. It was small enough for us to be cramped but large enough for us to carry a presence.

  I strapped on my guitar and waited for Oliver to start playing our first set behind me. The second I looked out into the crowd awaiting our first song with whistles and cheering, the man at the bar narrowed his eyes. He saw me. And he most definitely recognized me. I could tell from the sly smirk crossing his incredibly handsome face. He was everything I liked in a guy. Dark hair, light eyes, lean but muscular, and with just the right touch of edge to set him apart from the upscale blokes my dad wanted me to end up with one day.

  The song started and I immediately focused my attention on the guitar in my hands. It wasn’t long before the crowd realized we weren’t the usual bands they heard at the pub. We might have been from the countryside and we might be inexperienced but we had the talent.

  I inched over to the microphone where Jamie was belting out the notes. He had the perfect combination of singing and screaming for a proper rock song. He made it come up from his chest. Not his throat like amateurs did. Then it was my turn for the vocals. I attributed my unique sound to my upbringing. My mum had my brother and I live in Paris for a year. Not because the sights were particularly appealing to her but because the Parisian opera house at Palais Garnier accepted me into their youth program to sing. My love for music started young. And the classy part of my mum that I gathered my dad was attracted to adored opera. That was how they met. My mum was a singer for a Parisian opera company. She knew the right people to introduce me to when she realized that I inherited her pipes. I learned from the best for over a year. And I never stopped practicing even though I restricted my singing to the shower once Dirk and I moved in with dad. Dirk was always wonderful to me. And encouraging. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear me sing. He told me to keep practicing every day. I did so. Even after he died. My taste for opera faded over the years but my love for music remained. I could sing like no one else in rock and roll. Between the high notes and the right amount of screaming, Jamie and I created melodies that no one else could.

  I started moving with the music while playing. I knew all the right ways to flip my messy curls around to entice the guys in the crowd and make all the girls jealous. And the fact that I wasn’t a bad guitar player certainly helped.

  ‘Oh lord.’

  The guy from the train was watching me with such intensity. He set his beer aside on the bar with one final slug and walked toward the stage. His steps were slow. Calculating. Like he was a missile and I was the target.

  At first, I was uncomfortable. The way he looked at me was too intense for words. But as he moved closer and I got an even better look at him, I became entranced. He eventually made it to the front of the stage. I tried avoiding his eyes, playing for the rest of the crowd and making sure they got their money’s worth for the night. We needed to be great if we were going to get asked back and book other gigs. Pubs were fine for now but they wouldn’t continue to pay the bills forever.

  The instant I looked back at him only a few feet away from the stage something hot starting moving around inside me. A lingering that I had only felt with a few guys over the years. One that made me want to know more about him. To touch him, to know his secrets, and then corner him where he couldn’t get away. I was good at getting what I wanted when I finally decided that I wanted it. Maybe he would be no different.

  I twirled around the stage with the guitar as the guys in the crowd started whistling and hooting. Then the guitar solo started. I did my best to look out over the entire audience but I knew he was still there. Watching me. His eyes rarely ever blinked. And I went from being completely creeped out and running away from him in the tube to wondering if he would ask for my number by the time the night was over.

  Oliver’s eyes narrowed at me right before we all started playing again and my solo ended. He saw the guy in the front row. And he saw me staring right back at him. Oliver gave a little chuckle then started hammering on the drums once more as I inched my way back to the front of the small stage and started singing alongside Jamie, matching him beat for beat and making sure those in the back could hear me with perfect clarity.

  They must have liked the show because by the time we were finished everyone stood up and gave us a standing ovation. Even the bartender in the back was clapping.

  We took a bow together then went backstage to relax and unwind. Which was often the most difficult part. I loved the thrill of being onstage. And unlike opera, the crowd gave back to us instantly. In opera, the audience didn’t applaud until the end of a song. In rock, they sang along with the songs if they knew them. There were even a few headbangers in there from time to time. And we weren’t even well known yet.

  “That was incredible,” Luella said as she started chugging down water from a fresh plastic bottle. “We have to book here again sometime soon.”

  “I’ll ask the manager,” said Jamie. “I don’t think he’ll mind. Word will get around and they’ll make more money when we show up.”

  “Who was that?” Oliver nudged me in the arm.

  “Yeah, seriously,” Luella laughed. “He looked like he wanted to grab you right off the stage.”

  I bit my lip and there was little doubt in my mind that I was probably blushing. Or maybe that was from being under the bright lights of the stage for over an hour. “I’m not sure.”

  “So you just had eye sex with a total stranger?” Oliver kept teasing me.

  I rolled my eyes. “People still say that?”

  “I do because it’s accurate. Especially with women.”

  “Oh, really?” Luella sneered.

  Now came the predictable part. When Oliver thought he was so clever by teasing us ladies. It was as if he never outgrew the boyhood stage of thinking that making fun of girls was a proper form of courtship. Lucky for him, he and Luella often shared the same sense of humor.

  “Tell me,” Luel
la said, placing her arms on her hips. “What exactly does eye sex look like? Maybe I should know so I don’t do it by mistake.”

  He snickered. “Riley can tell you. In fact, why don’t you show us, Riley?”

  I scoffed and walked toward the back room. I was still dripping in sweat and I needed to cool off. A change of clothes was definitely a must. I wasn’t about to go outside in the cold night and get a cab wearing my revealing stage clothes. No matter how sexy they made me feel.

  “Don’t you dare change yet.” Luella walked right up behind me and grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me away from the door to the changing room.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a sexy mess and you need to go find that guy out there.”

  “You can’t be serious. I need to at least put some perfume on.”

  She went for her purse and pulled out some body spray then handed it to me. “Here. Wear this. It’s always worked for me.”

  “Worked for you how?” Oliver asked her, clearly not liking the sound of Luella having used it to tempt anyone other than him. Luella shot me a wink. I wasn’t sure if it was to tell me to go for the guy out in the pub or if she was letting me in on a secret. That perhaps she was just trying to get Oliver to work a little harder and she enjoyed the chase.

  Regardless, I knew I had a limited amount of time to get back out there. The pub would be closing within an hour and I didn’t have a lot of time to work a little magic.

  ‘Wait. What am I doing? This guy stalked me in the tube earlier today. He might have even followed me here. This is creepy!’

  I went over to the stage curtain and peered back through to see if he was still there. He was. He turned his head at just the right moment and saw me searching for him. I shut the curtain instantly and felt my cheeks turn an even brighter shade of pink.