CAPA Nominee Black Opal

Excerpt from Black Opal, third The Amulet series

The mingled scents of alcohol and heavy perfume hung like a low mist in the air.
Beads of perspiration glistened on Sabina’s forehead as the heat from the stage lights enveloped her. Eyes closed, she barely felt it. When Sabina sang she became one with the music. Every strum of the guitar, every bluesy note of the sax vibrated through her body and into her soul. She could feel her emotion reflected in the throbbing hush of the audience as the song erupted from her throat like a nightingale in flight.
She clasped the sweat-slicked microphone in her hands and drew air deep into her lungs. Just as she reached for the high note, a hard body careened against her and knocked her off the stool.
Sabina saw the horror on the faces of the audience as she arced through the air in slow motion before she, and the man wrapped around her, slammed against the wooden floor. Moments later the large stage light landed with a loud crash, splintering the stool she’d been sitting on.
The audience jumped out of their seats, screaming. Their voices filled with fear and panic.
“Pull the curtain,” the manager yelled over the shrieks.
Clutched too tight to move, she heard the short harsh gasps of her rescuer and felt his heart knocking against hers. And even though she’d never been in his arms, she knew who held her. Still in shock, she blurted out the first thing that came in to her mind, “What are you doing here?”
“It appears I’m saving your life.” The voice was calm, whiskey smooth, but she’d felt the shudder that ran the length of his body before he spoke.
“What the hell just happened?” His arms tightened around her, barely allowing her to breathe.
Sabina feared her ribs would be crushed. How could such a slender looking individual be so strong?
Before she could respond, Sabina saw Maureen Wolfe pushing people out of the way running toward her. Maureen reached down and ruthlessly yanked her from Adam Morelly’s arms.
At Maureen’s touch, a wave of revitalization washed through her. She looked up into her friend’s face. “Hello, Maureen.”
Maureen winced as bruises that hadn’t had time to hurt rushed out of Sabina’s body, through Maureen’s system and into her healing amulet.
“Let go, Maureen. I’m all right.” And I’m causing you pain.
Her grasp firm, Maureen held on a moment longer.
“Is she all right?”
Sabina turned her head and saw her other friend, the beautiful Isabella Tremaine-McHenry, owner of the beauty-creativity amulet staring at her anxiously, Isabella’s face dead white.
Sabina pushed Maureen’s hands away. “I’m fine.” As she started to rise, Adam got to his feet and pulled her up in one smooth motion.
The manager came rushing up wringing his hands. “Ms. Comti, are you all right? I assure you, nothing like this has ever happened at the Odyssey Lounge before.”
Sabina straightened her shoulders. Even though she wasn’t wearing the power amulet, its residual effects still slicked her skin. “I’m fine. Why don’t you go and reassure the audience and invite them back tomorrow night.”
“That’s a fine idea, but it will be standing room only. Every night is sold out.” He ran his hand through his thinning blonde hair, leaving the short mousse-lacquered strands in disarray.
“I’ll perform an extra night.”
“Oh would you, Ms. Comti? That would be perfect. Thank you.” His thin rounded shoulders sagged in relief.
“Mr. Lewis.” Adam Morelly’s voice wasn’t raised, but it carried an edge like a finely honed stiletto.
The stage manager raised an inquiring brow. “Sir?”
“Ms. Comti’s concern may be for the audience. Mine is what happened here tonight. I want a full accounting. I want a background check on everyone that’s been on stage in the past twenty-four hours and I want it yesterday. I don’t care if they’ve worked here since the dawn of time.”
“And you would be, sir?” The nervous little man looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be apprehensive or annoyed.
“I’m Adam Morelly.”
Sabina didn’t think it was possible, but the stage manager looked even pastier than he had before. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. “Johnny Morrelly’s nephew?”
Adam chin dipped in a short, sharp nod.
“I’ll get right on it, sir.”
“And I want the security in this place doubled.”
“Surely, you don’t think it was anything but an accident,” Mr. Lewis protested.
“Just do it.”
Sabina stared at Adam. Here was power that didn’t come from an amulet. Dressed in black, a diamond winking on his left pinkie, he looked dangerous as a panther and every bit as untamable.
She glanced at her friends and saw them exchange a look. It might just be time to have a cozy little chat. But before that . . . She turned to face Adam. “What exactly is your uncle to the manager?”
“His boss.” He stood with his legs splayed. His dark eyes hooded.
For some reason she couldn’t fathom or didn’t want to, she felt a queer little tug of disappointment as her lips formed an O. Well, that explains it. There was no reason Adam should be here to see her perform. They’d only met once at Maureen’s wedding. Just because he’d overwhelmed her senses didn’t mean it was reciprocal. Though, there were times when she could have sworn he was as much aware of her as she aware of him and his hard edgy body.