Down to Earth by Megan Slayer

“Which moron belongs to the monster truck?”

Tallulah shoved a lock of hair from her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t catch her breath. Some damned fool had driven over — not beside but over — her bike. Like it wasn’t even there. She fisted her hands on her hips. Her dress swirled around her legs, sending a shiver through her body. Why the hell had she worn a dress when it was so freaking cold? At least she had pants in her bag.

“Guys, who belongs to the behemoth truck?” Her voice cracked on the last word. Damn it.

Wide-eyed, Zac “Ice Man” Frost and Luc Moline stared at her. Neither spoke, but a roar of laughter erupted on the far side of the recording room.

Gritting her teeth, Tallulah turned her attention to the cackler. A shred of her anger dissipated — but not much. The laughter belonged to none other than the object of her desire and frustration, Ike Clanton. Six feet of solid muscle, wrapped in tattoos, muscles and leather. His hair, fixed in neon green spikes, added another six inches to his height. Compared to her five foot two, he was damned massive. When he played, he wowed arenas. Women literally fell at his feet, wanting a piece of the punk rock guitar god.

Almost every woman.

Sure, she’d wondered what it might be like to tangle herself up in his arms, but the moment he opened his mouth all bets were off. Abrasive was a mild way to describe him. Always with a wisecrack or caustic comment. He might have the mouth of a jerk, but was he always destructive?

He couldn’t possibly be the fool that trashed her bike. Zac and Luc had so much more sense than to associate with someone so Ike-ish. Any other words failed to describe him.

“Don’t park a bike in a parking spot. Those are for the real vehicles.” Ike shook his head and placed his guitar back in its stand. “There’s a couple of poles I can think of that need decorating. We could put your bike there as folk art.” He chuckled and stood. “Seriously, what’s she doing here? I’ve got the solos down just fine.”

Tallulah fumbled with her words. She had every right to be there. Zac had personally asked her to play the mirror line on “Crumbled.” Luc wanted her to do some dulcimer work for “Every Little Piece.” She glanced at the fresh flowers sitting in the vase on the piano. The blossoms opened wider, with brighter colors. Oh, Goddess. Who the hell was her element reacting to?

“We arranged for her to be here.” Zac sighed. “I didn’t want to double track. She’s adding color to a couple of the songs. Got a problem with that?” He stood and folded his arms.

Although he drove her berserk, of the two Tallulah preferred Ike. He had an air of raw sexuality. Zac was hot, no doubt, but his attention was hyper-focused on his wife, Atria. Not that Tallulah minded. Once she got to know Attie, she loved the fire elemental like a sister. But to see Zac go toe-to-toe with Ike was indeed interesting.

“The only pussy in this band was Slash. What the fuck?” Ike glanced in her general direction, and his lips curved down into a sneer. “God damned changes.”

Zac nudged Ike out of Tallulah’s earshot. Whatever he said, Zac’s steely expression never changed. Ike’s ears burned a bright crimson, and his fingers flexed on his belt loops.

Great. Make him hate me more. Tallulah groaned and sat down on the nearest stool. I just wanted to play music, not join the damned band.

“He’s under a lot of stress ever since he saw the play list last week.” Luc plopped down beside her and crossed his ankles. “He won’t say what’s pissed him off, but we know he’s not being himself.”

“How can you tell? He’s an asshole as usual.” She snorted. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

“Actually, it’s very much your concern.” Luc folded his arms and dropped his voice. “We need the line on “Piece” to match exactly. No variations, no little jaunts. I love Ike like he was my blood, but I have a precise vision for this song. He’s been hesitant to go along with it because I think he’s afraid to be outdone. Oh, and he hates being double tracked.”

Hated double tracking? Good grief. Afraid to be outdone? She shrugged. “Whatever. He made the cover of Rock Monthly three years straight as Guitar Hero of the Year. I am no competition. I’m no one.”

“Whatever.” Luc yawned. “It’s the ones you don’t see coming that knock you down the fastest.” He snapped his fingers. “Dude. Zac.” Scampering off the stool, Luc stood. “I’ve got the line.”

Before she knew what was happening, Luc streaked over to the piano. Zac strode to his side and leaned on the piano lid. Whatever they were in the middle of, no one in the room mattered to them. Fine by her. Maybe she’d be able to slip out to call the bike shop to fix what was left of her mountain bike. Anything had to be better than being in a room with Ike, the truckloads of hate he had for her, and the irritating way her element reacted to him being there.

Tallulah smoothed a lock of her hair between her fingers, then clicked her guitar case closed. Forget this. She didn’t need the headaches. Case in hand, she strode into the foyer and stared out over the city. Plumes of smoke wafted from the steel yards. Lights flickered on the skyscrapers as the rest of the world worked hard. The sun cast purplish light over the landscape. March snow fluttered past the window in tiny flecks. She might have grown up in Cleveland, but there were moments she longed to run away to the country, to run through open fields and not see a tall building for miles.

To have a natural landscape… impossible.

Being an earth elemental wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. Environmental disasters bothered her more than physical harm. Hell, it felt like physical harm. Atria and Zac tried to understand. More than most, Zac got her pain. His element was in constant flux. But still. Understanding meant zilch if he wasn’t the person intended to be her counterpart. Unlike Zac, Attie, and Tay, she hadn’t found her counterpart, and the way things went for her, he wasn’t likely out there anyway.

Too bad Ike was such a dick. Probably didn’t even remember the concert when he’d pulled her on stage. A shiver skated up her spine. Just the thought of him left her hot and cold. She knew his reputation and the way he held himself on stage. What would it be like to get lost in his arms? To feel his breath on the back of her neck as they tried every position in the Kama Sutra? Dear Goddess, it would feel like heaven, unless his actual persona matched the stage reputation.

* * *

“You are such an ass.” Luc slapped the sheet music down in front of Ike. “Seriously.”

“You’d know,” Ike snapped. He hated being put in his place. It wasn’t his fault the chick showed up. “Asses are your thing.”

“Ignore him.” Zac plucked the strings of his bass and twiddled with the feedback. “He knows not what he does or how shitty he sounds.”

“See?” Ike grinned. He had Zac on his side. He hoped. The image of the tiny woman in the flowing blue dress imprinted itself on his brain.

“I meant you. You have no idea sometimes.” Zac stopped playing. “She’s a nice woman. A little eccentric, but so? Like the tattoos and green spikes are normal? Or is it your asshole attitude? None of you is normal or rational since we mentioned she’d be showing up.”

“If I were you, I’d get to know her.” Luc clicked his tongue. “You might learn something from her. Hey, Zac, I’ll be right back.”

Ike waited for Luc to leave the recording room. “I am not going to learn from her.” He groaned. Seemed like a good answer, but it only opened so many more cans of worms. He wasn’t about to admit he found her intriguing. She was a girl and okay with a guitar. What her body looked like or what it did to him was irrelevant.

But the idea of exploring her body had pluses.

And why did she look so damned familiar? She couldn’t possibly be the girl. That was just not possible. The girl he remembered had piercings all over and a buzz cut.

“Fucktard. Seriously.” Zac rolled his eyes. “Tallulah Brown is damned good with her axe.” He glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Besides. You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her.”

“What? Why?” Ike folded his arms and widened his stance. “What are you talking about?”

“First, you’re going to have to apologize on your knees for fucking up her bike. Second, we want her in the band.”

“No and no.” Sounded like a great answer to him. The last time rumblings of band changes started, people walked, and he wasn’t about to be one of the walkers.

“Dickwad. We’ve always known Glow is the four of us and it always will be, but sometimes you just gotta add in where you lack.”

“And I lack?” Okay, now Zac was just pissing him off.

“You hate being double tracked. If we use her for the album it’ll work the way Luc wants.”

“Then how are you planning on getting us together to make sure this works? Am I supposed to date her? Take Ms. Brown out for a romantic dinner downtown at a posh restaurant? How about a luxury cruise through Alaska?” Actually… all three sounded rather interesting. But she wasn’t going to fall for an ass like him. She’d be smart to run the other way just like she had three years prior. If she was that girl.

“By Alaska.”

“By, through, whatever.”

“We’re putting you two in Studio B. Just the two of you. The music will be there, and Eddie will do the sound, but none of us are going in or out when it comes to playing. Luc may stroll in to check the progress, but dude, it’s all you two. Now shape up. She’s your match and you owe her a bike.” He shook his head and strolled out of the studio. “Criminey.”

Ike clacked his tongue piercing against his teeth. What Zac said had merit. Putting them in a room together to just knock out the line would be the best way to make it match up, but the match part got under his skin like a splinter. The more he thought about the lithe woman with the flowing brown hair and the hippie dress, the more he hated to admit he almost looked forward to working with her and seeing her again.

Almost.