MySoultoSave

by S W Vaughn

  Scowling, he opened the door and strode out, with Kobol’s laughter chasing him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jaeryth sat stiffly on the hard plastic seat, glaring through the window beside him as the bus wheezed and lurched to the curb to pick up yet another passenger. They hadn’t gone five minutes without stopping. His hands rested on his knees and he drummed his fingers impatiently. “Could this damned vehicle possibly move any slower?” he said under his breath.

  “It will be on time.” Daan, sitting next to him with legs swinging happily, offered a thumbs-up. “Six thirty-five, Festival Pier.”

  “It had better be.”

  One of the women seated in front of him turned around. “Are you talking to me?”

  “No,” he snapped.

  She glanced at the seat next to him, shrugged and turned back.

  Jaeryth looked out the window again. He was no longer concerned whether people thought him mad for appearing to talk to himself. He faced greater problems—such as challenging a few hundred demons, armed with nothing but his determination and one slightly addled Shepherd. The odds were impossible.

  But he had to overcome them, because failure was unthinkable.

  An eternity or two later, the bus entered thick traffic and slowed to a crawl. It progressed in fits and jerks for a few moments, and finally stopped altogether with the engine still rumbling. Jaeryth craned to look through the windshield. Far ahead, across medians and parking lots, he made out an arched sign that proclaimed Festival Pier Parking. And between the sign and the bus, a twisting half-mile of gridlocked vehicles.

  They’d never make it in time.

  He stood and stared down at the oblivious Daan. “Move. We’re getting off here.”

  Several heads turned in his direction. He ignored them. Once the Shepherd scrambled clear, he stepped into the aisle and strode to the front of the bus.

  “Stay behind the white line,” the driver droned without looking at him.

  “Let me out.”

  The driver snorted. “You see a bus stop here? You can only exit the bus at a bus stop.”

  “I have to get there by seven.” He pointed ahead to the archway. “Open the door.”

  “Buddy, I could lose my job if I let you out in the middle of the road. Take your seat, please.”

  “This is an emergency! I—”

  “Jaeryth, wait.” Daan drifted in front of him. “Let me convince him.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Hey.” The driver turned toward him. “I said, take your seat.”

  “I can do it, Jaeryth.”

  “No, you can’t!”

  “All right. If you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to call Transit Authority.”

  Daan walked to the driver and leaned toward his ear. “The poor man is obviously disturbed,” the Shepherd said in dulcet tones. “He could be a danger to the other passengers. You should let him off the bus.”

  The driver sent Jaeryth a critical look, grunted and swung the door open in a hiss of air. “Go on,” he said.

  Jaeryth hurried down the steps without a word. Outside, he made his way through the stopped cars to the nearest concrete median and headed for the sign. This would still take longer than it should, but at least now he had a chance.

  Daan caught up with him easily. “See? I told you I could convince him.”

  “Obviously disturbed, am I?” Jaeryth smirked, not breaking his stride. “Well, I am no longer on the bus. So…thank you. Daan.”

  “You are welcome.” The Shepherd practically glowed. “What can I do now?”

  “I don’t know yet. Er…stay alert.”

  “Of course. I will be ever vigilant.”

  Though it took only ten minutes or so to reach his destination, it seemed far longer. A digital clock set into a short column in front of the archway informed him that the time was six forty-five. And he might have actually reached the stage, where Logan would be, in fifteen minutes—if it weren’t for the eight thousand people packed between here and there.

  His heart sank. It just wasn’t physically possible to push through all those people in time. And he probably couldn’t even enter the concert area without a ticket.

  Daan shivered beside him. “There are so many demons here. It’s not safe.”

  “Yes.” With nearly all the concert-goers clad in black, he couldn’t actually see them—but he felt their presence, like a massive gathering storm.

  And at once it occurred to him that while he might escape their notice for a time, as one human among thousands, Daan certainly would not. A lone Shepherd didn’t stand a chance against a hundred Tempters. They’d tear it apart.

  “Daan,” he said gently. “You can’t come any further with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  Daan’s smooth brow furrowed. “They’ll hurt me?”

  “Yes. I want you safe, so you must stay behind.”

  “But you need me.” Daan stared ahead for a moment, and then a grin surfaced. “We’ll disguise ourselves!”

  He frowned. “How can you possibly—”

  Before he finished speaking, the Shepherd’s garb had changed from pale blue to the simple black of a Tempter. Daan’s eyes remained blue, but the shade was so dark that from a distance, they would look black.

  “All right.” Jaeryth laughed and shook his head. “I suppose you’ll do. But I don’t have a disguise, so…”

  “There.” Daan pointed.

  He followed the gesture. Just inside the archway stood a narrow, windowed booth. No one occupied it, and a sign on the front said Parking lot full. For an instant he wasn’t sure what Daan was indicating—and then he saw a black jacket and cap hanging on a hook inside the booth, each printed with SECURITY in large white letters.

  That would not only disguise him. It would get him through the crowd.

  “Daan, you’re brilliant.” He might have hugged the little Shepherd, if it had an actual body. Instead, he offered a smile, then dashed over to the booth to retrieve the cap and jacket.

  Uneasiness crept over him as they started toward the arena. It would still be a struggle to reach the stage, even with people letting him through. And time was very short. But as they walked along the high wooden fence that led to the main gates, a solution presented itself in the form of a red-painted door, bearing words that lodged a flicker of hope in him.

  SECURITY ACCESS CORRIDOR

  Hardly daring to breathe, Jaeryth reached for the handle and pressed the latch. It clicked down and the door swung open onto a long, deserted dirt path that led clear to the back of the area—and presumably the stage.

  He stepped through with Daan at his heels. And when the door closed behind him, he broke into a run.

  * * * * *

  Logan stood behind the biggest stage she’d ever seen this close, at the foot of the stairs she would take to reach it. Scaffolding towered above her, mounted with myriad floodlights and speakers and electronic effects at the apex. The crisp, clean scent of the river just a few yards to the right filled the air, mingling with the excited buzz of the massive crowd and occasionally punctuated with bursts of noise from the techs onstage, running a sound check.

  What a place to crash and burn.

  She was determined to go through with her plan and ruin the show. She’d told no one and hidden her frazzled nerves beneath a veneer of enthusiasm that was wearing thin. Ten more minutes until the end of her world.

  It broke her heart to know she’d be letting her friends down. But it was the only chance that Jaeryth wouldn’t end up in Hell. Their pain, and hers, would fade in time. Jaeryth’s would last forever. And besides, they could go on without her. It happened all the time in the music world—lead singers self-destructed, or their egos got in the way. They were replaced and the band played on. Ruined Soul had already done it once. They could do it again.

  She was only throwing away her own shot at her dreams.

  “So. You ready for
this?”

  Logan blinked and focused on Blue, who was standing in front of her. “Um,” she said. “Define ready.”

  Blue laughed. “I can’t believe this is really happening. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She smiled, hoping the expression looked more genuine than it felt. “I just hope I don’t run out of breath before we finish.”

  “You’ll kick ass.” Blue clapped her shoulder. “It’s nice not having to do setup ourselves. I feel like a total celebrity.”

  Logan nodded and tried to think of a suitable response. Before she could come up with anything, half the overhead lights snapped on and an electronically amplified male voice boomed out from the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Philadelphia’s Festival Pier!”

  “It’s too early,” Logan shouted over the answering roar of the crowd.

  Blue shrugged. “I think that’s just a recording.”

  “Please note the emergency exits to your left and right, near the front and back of the arena. The bathrooms are located…”

  “Yep, a recording,” Blue said as the voice droned on. “We’re still good for a few minutes.”

  Logan caught sight of Tex and Reid hustling toward them. “Or not,” she said.

  “All right, ladies. It’s showtime.” Reid’s drawl sounded confident as ever. If the size of the crowd affected him, he didn’t show it in the least. “Let’s get it on.”

  Tex sidled over and hugged her. “This is it,” he said, soft enough so that only she could hear him. “You ready to change the world?”

  She forced a smile. “I guess we’ll see.”

  The answer must have satisfied him, because the next thing she knew, she was heading up the stairs with the rest of them. Through the metal grating, she caught glimpses the crowd—a sea of upturned faces washed in the waning dusk. So many people, all expecting the legend she’d somehow become. Could she really let them down?

  More than ever, she wished Jaeryth was here.

  Tex halted them when they reached the top, as the automated voice played out the last of its message. “…and thank you for attending this event at Philadelphia’s Festival Pier.” The lights flickered off and Tex turned to face the group. “Our cue’s coming in a minute. Frost, you’re out last. Anybody need to pee? Because if you do, too bad.”

  Logan laughed with the rest of them. But her stomach felt greasy and slick, and a slight tremor had settled in her hands. She shoved them into her pockets to hide it. Whatever resolve she had was drowning in a whirlwind of confusion. She’d go out there and…what? Drop the ball, damn her friends and disappoint thousands of people—or sing her heart out, touch millions of lives and condemn the one that mattered to her more than all of them?

  A loud and thrumming pulse infused the air, vibrating the floor beneath her. Colored lights blinked into existence overhead, one by one, and played across the stage like slow-motion fireflies. A single floodlight beamed a white wedge over everything. Tex gestured, smiled and turned to trot onto the stage.

  The crowd blasted its approval.

  Logan swallowed hard and watched as first Blue, and then Reid moved into the light. Her turn now. For a terrifying instant her feet refused to move. She forced a single step, and another. Finally, she was headed for the microphone against the deafening screams of the audience.

  She reached the stand and grabbed the mic. The shakes were more pronounced now, and her breath came in short, rapid pants. The blazing lights prevented her from seeing much of the crowd—but she could hear them, transcending the pulse that still hammered from the speakers. Uncertainty ripped at her, to the point where she feared this would be a nightmarish rerun of her first time at Blue’s. The band would play. And the singer would choke.

  All at once, the world stopped.

  At first she thought she’d fainted. But after a moment of deafening silence, a low murmur of voices filled in the spaces, rising steadily. She finally realized that the sound effect no longer played and all the lights were dark. The power had gone out.

  And the crowd was not happy.

  A man in jeans and a dark shirt, wearing a headset, rushed out onto the stage waving his arms in the air. “Hold your places, please,” he said to the band. “Just a glitch. We’ll have it fixed soon.” He turned toward the audience and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Everything’s fine, folks,” he shouted. “Hang tight. We’ll be up and running in just a couple of minutes.”

  A few angry shouts transcended the murmur of discontent. One exceptionally loud voice called, “You suck, techie!”

  Shuddering, Logan slid the mic back onto the stand. She could feel the anger from the crowd, a black and malevolent force thrusting tendrils into the atmosphere and sucking the life out of everything. It shouldn’t have escalated this fast. Those people were just about demanding blood.

  She moved slowly toward the edge of the stage. Without the blinding floodlights, there was just enough daylight to get a clear picture of the audience. They were restless, jostling one another, their faces drawn into snarls and grimaces.

  And among them were the Tempters. Hundreds of them, their black eyes glittering with evil hunger as they urged the mob toward frenzy.

  Logan froze, unable to look away. She couldn’t even open her mouth to get Tex’s attention. The shouts and taunts kept piling on, building to furious peaks. Someone booed—and the call spread through the crowd like wildfire. The sound lodged in the pit of her stomach, turning her blood to ice.

  Unusual movement flickered at the corner of her vision. She managed to turn her head toward it. At the left-hand end of the stage in the cordoned area reserved for security, there was a churning black mass almost the size of a city bus. It took her mind a moment to realize what it was—Tempters, crawling over one another like a nest of spiders, clicking and chattering so fast that if the sounds contained words, she’d never make them out.

  And still, she couldn’t move a muscle. She could only watch the destruction, with the sinking certainty that this time they’d finish what had begun the moment Jaeryth entered her life, or maybe even before then.

  This time, she would die.

  * * * * *

  Jaeryth had almost reached the end of the path when a booming voice started welcoming everyone to Festival Pier, and he let out a violent curse. He’d been sure he still had a few more minutes. Any second now, Logan would be on the stage—and quite possibly beyond his reach.

  He kept moving, and the voice droned on about emergency exits and restrooms. Perhaps this would take a while. He hoped.

  Daan kept pace alongside him, though the Shepherd’s feet didn’t touch the ground. Jaeryth envied him the ability. His human legs ached with effort and his lungs burned in his chest. But he kept going.

  And then, at the end of the path, three Tempters materialized amid gusting swirls of smoke.

  He faltered, but soon regained his pace. They are incorporeal, he reminded himself. I’ll pass right through them. It would only feel unpleasant for a moment.

  Daan, however, failed to subscribe to the same logic.

  “I’ll distract them!” Before the shout registered in Jaeryth’s ears, a flash of pale, shimmering blue darted ahead of him, straight at the grinning Tempters.

  Jaeryth skidded to a halt. “Daan, no!”

  Too late. The little Shepherd barreled at the center demon, tumbling across the ground with him to phase through the barricade along the side of the path. The two remaining Tempters dove through after them.

  Shuddering, Jaeryth forced himself to move again. The voice from the stage had stopped and a dark, rhythmic strain filled the air as the crowd began to cheer.

  The show was starting. He’d have to hope that Daan could handle this fight alone.

  By the time he reached the back of the stage, the thunder of the crowd had tripled in volume. Somehow he knew this was for Logan. There was an ecstatic quality to the sound, a joyous fever that spilled over everything like the rays of the
morning sun.

  He could be too late, but he would not stop now.

  The entire stage was constructed of metal beams mounted at cross angles, forming a three-dimensional grid. There were stairs leading up to the stage—but they were at the far end, and he would lose minutes running to them. He approached the grid, grabbed the farthest beam he could reach and started climbing.

  He’d gained only a few feet when sudden silence descended.

  Through the jumbled underpinnings of the stage, he could see the very front of the ground area. The space directly in front of the structure held not fans, but security guards—the professional variety, with batons and guns holstered at their waists. As the crowd’s volume increased once again, this time in anger instead of anticipation, black shadows surged forth from the gathering and poured into the security area.

  Tempters. Piling onto one of the guards, chanting darkness, urging him to draw and fire. To kill Logan.

  Jaeryth attacked the scaffolding. He pulled himself up, beam by beam, as the muscles in his arms and shoulders burned. By the time he reached the top, the crowd had started booing.

  It took longer than he wanted to gain his footing. An enormous screen lined the back of the stage, but there was space between the screen and the nearest support column to slip through. He rounded the corner and immediately sought Logan. At first he saw only the other band members, who’d gathered in a loose group around a man wearing a headset. There was something off about the man, but Jaeryth couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

  There. She stood alone at the edge of the stage with her back to him, looking off to the side at the place where the Tempters swarmed. With no time to wonder why she wasn’t moving and the others weren’t paying attention, he sprinted toward her on legs that felt made of rubber.

  He had to slow himself just before he reached her, or he risked pushing her over the edge. Gasping through the fire in his lungs, he grabbed her around the waist, spun and half-shoved, half-tossed her toward the back of the stage, where she couldn’t be targeted.

  Just as she gave a startled cry, the sharp crack of a gunshot splintered the air. Tremendous pressure slammed Jaeryth’s back, as though he’d been struck with a sledgehammer—and searing agony followed.