Magic's Song Read Online Free

Darson grinned wickedly. “Anyway, they don’t have a single gay man in the group, but I still love ’em. That should tell you how good they are. Let’s go.”
    “No.”
    He pursed his lips. “Yes. A voice like yours might get them into the big leagues. You don’t want to deprive those delicious boys, do you?”
    “Dar, I don’t want to be in the big leagues.”
    “Um-hum. And I don’t want ten inches. Now let’s go. There’s sure to be a line.”
    She blushed. “I can’t, I’ll choke.”
    Darson cackled. “Sweetie, I’m going to let that one slide. Ten inches—choke? Too easy. Besides, you’ll be singing, not giving blowjobs. You are going to this audition even if I have to drag you by your blonde head. Which looks great, by the way. Why don’t you wear your hair down more often?”
    Tanith involuntarily touched her head. Normally she wrapped her long locks sloppily on the top of her head and shoved a clip through her hair. “I haven’t even combed it.”
    “Leave it alone.” Darson tugged at her arm. “Let’s go, we’re late.”
    She couldn’t go. She’d make a fool of herself. Backing away, Tanith grabbed the flyer from the desk and pushed it toward his face. “Read this. Auditions by appointment only . I don’t have an appointment.”
    Darson showed too many teeth. The grinning hyena had to be up to something. “I was afraid you’d chicken out, you chicken shit. I called and made the appointment for you. No excuses this time.”
    “You what?” Tanith gulped, too stunned to be angry. Her thoughts scattered into a hundred directions, making her stomach gurgle. If she didn’t do something fast, Darson would succeed in getting her to try-out.
    “Let me change clothes.”
    “Change? No way! You look fabulous.”
    She whimpered as Darson pushed her from behind. Tanith barely had time to grab her keys and a hairclip before he marched her out the door.

Chapter Four
    They made it to the audition five minutes early, but a long line already snaked around the building. Tanith felt her throat constrict. She tugged at her hemline, her mind working frantically to find any excuse to leave.
    Every time she thought of something and opened her mouth, Darson put a finger on her lips. “Just breathe. You’ll be fine.”
    The line moved faster than her thinking. “Dar, I really don’t think—”
    “Breathe.” He kept chatting but his words didn’t penetrate.
    She kept seeing herself fall off the stage. She re-tasted her morning coffee and feared she’d see it again too. In her mind, she stood onstage, but when she opened her mouth, she sounded like a seagull.
    “I can’t do this.”
    “Of course you can. You do it in the shower every morning.” He leaned closer to the woman standing next to him. “Don’t let your imagination get creative. I assure you, the only thing she does in the shower is sing.”
    Both the woman and Darson laughed. Tanith felt sick.
    Darson kneaded her shoulders. “Quit being a ninny. You’ll be fine.”
    She opened her mouth again to reason with Darson, but she’d made it to the front of the line. How could that have happened? She tried to speak, to tell the man she’d made a mistake, but her mouth wouldn’t work.
    “This is Tanith Cox,” Darson said to the man behind the makeshift desk.
    He didn’t even raise his head as he studied the paper. He placed a check on the page and barked, “To the right.”
    “My right or your right?” she squeaked. A large group waited to her left with at least thirty females standing in a cluster. Even more women waited behind her, but only two women stood to her right.
    His arm, covered with scrolled tattoos, shot out toward the two women standing near a door. “Wait over there. Next.”
    “Move,” Darson hissed in her ear.
    He pushed her and she stumbled to the right. Her stomach stopped churning. Sick disappointment drowned her nervous jitters.
    She hadn’t really wanted to try out—okay, she’d wanted to, but had