Read Online The Devil's Metal by Karina Halle - Free Book Online Page A

for
this?
    “Who cares, she’s hot,” Chip said, putting
his arm around me. “Come on, put down the beers, let’s get the
introductions over with.”
    I put the beers on the table, right in front
of Robbie. Our eyes met and I immediately tore mine away, too many
weird emotions going through me at once. I was bewildered, shook
up, confused, and in disbelief.
    “Nice to meet you, Rusty,” Robbie said in
his smooth voice. “I’m Robbie.”
    He smiled. I was turning into a puddle of
swoon.
    “Dawn,” I corrected him and immediately felt
silly for doing so. Robbie Oliver could call me Pooey-Poo-Poo
Smelly Face if he wanted to.
    “Rusty it is,” he said, still smiling, still
working out those dimples. He scooched over and patted the faded
seat next to him. “Come, sit, regale us with your tales of Creem
Magazine.”
    I made some sort of noise. Chip pushed me
lightly into the seat and tossed everyone a Carlsberg, making sure
Mickey got his first.
    After I had gotten over the fact that Sage
had just snubbed me, I was overcome by the girly, juvenile,
dimwitted sensation of “Oh my god, I’m squished up next to Robbie
Oliver. Oh my god, Mickey Brown and Noelle Clark are sitting across
from me, drinking beer. Oh my god, Noelle won’t stop glaring at me.
Oh my god, how did this become my life?”
    Thankfully I wasn’t able to dwell on it for
very long. Chip was shoving a beer in my hand while Robbie started
rattling off the questions: How long had I worked for Creem
Magazine, where was I from, what was my favorite band, what was my
favorite Hybrid album, what was my favorite Hybrid song, and who
was the best singer in the world?
    Naturally I answered “you” to that last
one.
    He grinned and patted my hand. “That a girl!
Great answers.” He looked at Noelle, who continued to look
unimpressed. “See, she’s not a groupie.”
    Then he leaned into my hair and whispered
into my ear, “Not that I’d mind either way.”
    I let out an awkward laugh. Was Robbie
hitting on me?
    “She’s a groupie with a badge,” Noelle shot
in.
    I responded with a look that could kill.
    “Can I quote you on that?” I asked sweetly,
finding my nerve. “Would look real good in the article.”
    She narrowed her eyes back at me and I heard
Robbie suck in his breath.
    Chip laughed. “Wowee, boys, I think we’re
going to have an interesting few weeks.”
    “I wanted the guy from Rolling Stone,”
Graham muttered.
    “No one cares what you want,” Robbie yelled
at him over my head. He then looked at Mickey. “Boyo, make your
girlfriend behave.”
    Mickey shrugged and took a sip of his beer.
“Whatever, man, Noe can do what she pleases.”
    “And what I please isn’t here yet,” she said.
She leaned down and plucked one of the stolen mini liquor bottles
out of her boot.
    “Patience,” Mickey told her and proceeded to
roll a joint.
    I didn’t know what they were talking about,
but I had a feeling it had to do with drugs. Before I could ponder
that more, Robbie bumped me with his hip playfully.
    “So what do you think, miss rusty
journalist?”
    I couldn’t help but smile. He had a nice way
of making me forget the people on the other side of the table.
“About what?”
    “Well, let’s start with the bus.”
    “I told her we love the piece of shit,” Chip
added as he went to sit on the couch beside Graham.
    “Piece of shit is right,” Mickey said, not
looking up from his joint. “It’s only a matter of time before she
goes off the road.”
    “Such pessimism,” Robbie scolded him. He
took a big sip of his beer before looking around, admiring it.
    I did the same, if not just to take the
pressure off of me. The table we sat at was small and kind of
cramped, but would do to have a bite or play a game of cards. The
carpet of the bus was this dirty green that matched the velour of
the couch cushions. It probably sat three people comfortably and
looked long enough that even the 6’3” Sage could stretch out on it.
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