Caught in the Glow (The Glower Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

administration. A middle-aged character actor? A classical violinist?
    I’d expected Ryder to stop at the stage. Instead he hopped right up with a heft of his muscular arms. Fauxhawk looked startled but not upset to see him. They knocked fists and slapped each other’s backs like friends, and the green-haired girl pointed to the scruffy canvas curtain at the side of the stage. Ryder ducked behind it and came back out fiddling with the knobs on an electric guitar.
    “Hey music addicts!” Fauxhawk shouted to the crowd as his partner adjusted the winding electronic melody. “We’ve got a surprise special guest joining us for a song or two.”
    Damn it. If I’d known he was going to perform in a place as uncontrolled as this, I might have called for backup. At least I’d have tried to lay down a few ground rules beforehand. As it was, all I could do was drift to the edge of the crowd and watch.
    An orange spotlight beamed down on Ryder as he stepped to the front of the stage, his lips already curled into that same slanted but sure smile I’d first seen nearly six years ago, that first week at Rushfield. “Oh my God,” said a young woman swaying with her friends near me. “That’s Colin Ryder, isn’t it?” She raised her arm and shrieked, and her friends did too.
    The hum of voices in the crowd around us had gotten louder. Ryder wasn’t a household name yet, but that last single off his indie debut—and the swaggering, smoldering video that had accompanied it—had put him in the sights of anyone with more than a passing interest in the rock scene.
    He wasn’t looking at the crowd now, his head thrown back as his fingers danced over the strings as if he were channeling inspiration from on high. Fauxhawk had started singing again. The notes that ripped from Ryder’s guitar entwined with the ragged vocals, the keyboard melody, and the artificial drums into something dense and complex and, if I was going to be completely honest, beautiful. I found myself swallowing thickly.
    The guy could play. Say anything else you wanted about him, he could play .
    And that was exactly why the Glowers would want him.
    I’d barely had time to be swept up in the song when my gaze caught on a figure in the crowd who stood out from the rest. A petite woman with light red hair and creamy skin, whirling in a shimmery black dress that was more gaps than fabric. To my eyes, it wasn’t only her dress that shimmered. So did the whites of her eyes, the breath that escaped her lips as she peered up at Ryder, and the pale flame of her hair when she shook it around her face. No one around her could see it, but they’d had enough instinct to leave a careful space around her.
    My stomach twisted. The Glower couldn’t have been here waiting for Ryder, I didn’t think, given that his appearance seemed to be a surprise to everyone but himself. Either she’d been considering marking one of the band members, or she’d been drifting, absorbing the shreds of energy any crowd like this gave off. But she’d noticed him now. Whenever she raised her glittering eyes, she was looking at him.
    Double damn it.
    There was no immediate emergency. Before a Glower could affect any permanent damage, it had to open a connection. Offer some common point of interest or temperament to make the target enjoy its presence. Insinuate itself into the target’s inner circle by offering little glimpses of the highs of creative exhilaration it could provide, holding off on siphoning that energy back for the time being. Only then could it suggest a marking, in whatever misleading language it thought it best to couch the deal in, and expect the target to accept.
    Once it got to that point, once the target was marked, there was no going back. No one at the Society had found a means to break that connection once a Glower had created it. And the Glower would use that bond to suck away all the spark and joy from its target’s life, feeding them just enough inspiration at