Warlord Metal by D Jordan Redhawk Read Free Book Online Page B

they know what's good for 'em!
    There was another knock, louder and more insistent. The redhead could hear a man's voice through the door. The woman's mouth had frozen in place and dark brown eyes rolled between trying to see the door behind her and peering up at the guitarist who was rapidly getting angry.
    Jordan cursed and pulled the woman's head away. She rose to her feet, using her grip for leverage. Feeling movement beneath her fingers, she glared down at the dark woman. "Don't move from this spot," she growled, planting a fierce kiss on ruby lips. And then she broke away and stalked to the door.
    Even as she reached it, another round of pounding resumed. Jordan threw the door open and glared at the intruder. "What the fuck do you want?" she demanded with a scowl.
    Middlestead was a little taken aback by her vehemence. He stared blankly at Jordan, his fist still in the air from his aborted attempt at knocking.
    "Well?!" the redhead snapped.
    "Uh." the man shook his head and dropped his hand. "Sonny's, uh... not in here, is she?" he asked, gaze flickering over the smaller woman's shoulder. He caught sight of a naked feminine back, but the hair color wasn't right. Good thing, too, he thought with a hint of anger. I'd have to kill my guitarist if that was Sonny. His glance returned to his band mate, finally realizing that her shirt was open and her attributes were bared for his view. So they are pierced! Middlestead blushed, mouth dry, and forced himself to look back into Jordan's eyes.
    "No," the woman said slowly, as if to an idiot. "She is not here. Nor would she be at..." and she craned her neck to see her alarm clock, "...three thirty in the morning." Despite her anger at the interruption, she glared at the man and asked, "Have you looked in her room?"
    "Yes! Of course I looked in her room!" the drummer snapped. "When I got home, I was gonna check on her before bed. She's not in the house, Jordan!" Anger and worry fought for dominance within. "She's never done this before."
    Jordan shrugged. "Maybe she just decided to spend the night at Shelly's. It is a weekend."
    Middlestead shook his head. "She's not there. I've spent the last twenty minutes calling all her friends, rousting families out of bed. Nobody's seen her since the dance."
    A trickle of worry ran through the redhead like ice water. Flippantly, she shrugged, "Maybe she's making out in the back seat of her date's car." Jordan felt the wrongness of it even as the words left her lips. "Whatever.... Who was her date, anyway?"
    Running a hand through his dark hair in concern, Middlestead winced and looked away. "I don't know. Pete Something, I think."
    Jordan's anger flared again. "Your sixteen year old sister is out on a date with a high school jock and you don't even know who the hell it is?!"
    "Look, I'm her brother, damn it! Not her parent!" was the defensive answer.
    "Well, here's a clue, pal," Jordan said acidly, buttoning up her shirt. "Time's like these are when you're supposed to act like a parent. Whether you want to or not." Oh, yeah, Jordie! Miss 'Oh-So-Superior' is now an expert on child rearing.
    Middlestead's face was pained but he offered no argument.
    The guitarist took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Opening them again, her frustration contained for the moment, she said, "Go back inside and call Shelly again. She'll know what the kid's name is. I'll be down in a minute." She used her chin to indicate the woman still kneeling behind her. "I've gotta take care of something first."
    The man nodded in silent relief. He turned and hustled down the stairs.
    Jordan shook her head and rolled her eyes. Men! Can't live with 'em! Can't shoot 'em! She shut the door and turned back to her evening's entertainment.
    As Middlestead hung up the phone, he heard the patio door slide closed. Craning his neck from his place in the living room, he saw his band mate coming towards him.
    "Find out his name?" she asked as she put on her leather jacket.
    "Yeah! Pete