by S W Vaughn
He fell to the floor and relief nearly eclipsed the pain. She was safe. He’d kept his promise.
It was all right to die now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sound of the gunshot still echoed through Logan’s head.
She hadn’t seen the man who’d saved her life. By the time she realized what was happening, he was already down. Now she stood on trembling legs and approached the figure in the security coat and cap, lying facedown and motionless in the center of the stage. The closer she got, the faster her pulse pounded in her throat.
The man groaned softly and the fingers of one hand flexed. Wild hope zinged through her. Maybe the guard had been wearing a bulletproof vest or something. She didn’t think she could bear the idea of a stranger dying for her. Rushing the rest of the way, she knelt beside him and gently removed the cap.
He wasn’t a stranger.
“Jaeryth!” His name emerged a strangled sob. “Oh God, no…”
His eyes fluttered open, but they didn’t focus on anything. “Logan,” he whispered. “Safe.”
“Yes. Yes, I’m safe.” She barely noticed the tears streaming from her eyes or the gradually diminishing rumble from the crowd. Beneath the last traces of daylight, she could see a small, ragged hole just inside his shoulder blade, and only a trickle of blood. It looked so insignificant. He could still be all right.
But her heart screamed that he wasn’t.
Someone must have called 911 by now. She had to get him turned over, see how bad it was. If he was bleeding, she could hold a compress on him or something until an ambulance got here. She crawled to his side and slid a hand under his shoulder. His body stiffened at the touch. “Okay,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m going to try to help you. Can you move at all?”
“Don’t know.” His lips barely moved.
Steeling herself, she reached across him and gripped his arm. It would be easier to roll him toward her instead of shoving him away. “Here goes,” she murmured, and pulled.
He let out a garbled cry that wrenched her heart, but he shifted along with her efforts, until he was on his back with his head in her lap. He was pale and shaking, with eyes closed tight and teeth bared in a grimace.
A thick pool of blood glistened darkly on the stage floor where he’d lain—and the front of his shirt was drenched with the stuff.
He was not okay.
“Jaeryth…” She stroked his damp hair as coldness stole through her. He shouldn’t have been here. He was going to stay away from her—but she’d asked him to come. Kobol must have delivered her message.
She might as well have shot him herself.
His eyes opened, his gaze fixed on her. A ghost of his crooked smile surfaced. “Dying.”
Her breath hitched hard. “Help is on the way,” she said in a breaking voice. “Police. Paramedics. They’ll save you.”
“No.”
He lifted a trembling hand and she slipped hers into it, sobbing. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always.”
His body relaxed on a sigh. His lips parted and he said something she couldn’t make out.
She gave his hand a desperate squeeze. “Jaeryth! Don’t leave me. I didn’t hear you…”
He shuddered all over and his eyes fluttered closed. “Sing…for me.”
“Sing,” she repeated dully. Her throat clenched and panic flooded her instantly. She was choking. She wouldn’t be able to give him what he wanted—and he was slipping away fast.
The final blush of light vanished from the sky, cradling the world in darkness. Logan drew a single, shivering breath. And she began to sing.
“Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel you…”
Though tears tracked endlessly down her face, her voice emerged steady and strong. She’d always thought this song was a little too mushy to perform—no self-respecting rock audience wanted to hear “that song from Titanic”—but the haunting ballad captured the essence of her soul and poured it out in musical form.
After the first few lines, it dawned on her that her voice was louder than should have been possible without a mic. But she didn’t have one, and the power was still out.
She finally realized that the audience had fallen utterly silent.
For one crazy instant, she thought they’d all left. She couldn’t see a thing out there. The night and the blackout combined everything into solid, ink-black emptiness. Then a tiny pinpoint of light flickered into existence. More followed in rapid succession—ten, a hundred, a thousand and more, orange and blue and white and green, bathing the rapt faces of the crowd in a pale glow.
They were holding up lighters. Cell phones. Key chain flashlights. Anything and everything that gave light.
Logan sang. For the crowd, for herself, but most of all for Jaeryth, who lay dying in her arms. Who’d gone against everything he’d ever known, and sacrificed more than any human being ever could, to save her—to save them all. If this song was all she could give him in return, she’d damned well make sure it was the best song ever performed.
She felt something forming deep inside her, a ball of pure warmth that calmed her racing nerves. As the music flowed, it drifted up through her body, infusing her heart with its heat. The pulsating sensation entered her throat. Whatever it was, it felt so real and solid that part of her expected to choke on it. But it flowed smoothly upward—and left her lips as visible rays of golden light that rained on Jaeryth’s still form and soaked into his chest.
The light kept coming with every word she sang. As the last notes vibrated through the stillness and the final scrap of brilliance entered Jaeryth’s body, he jerked and went rigid as stone.
Then he drew a great, gasping breath. And opened his eyes.
Somewhere beyond them, the crowd burst into frenzied cheers. Blackness swallowed the world again as the phones and lighters went out. But for Logan, there was nothing except Jaeryth—warm in her arms and alive. Somehow, miraculously, alive.
She’d done it…completed her awakening. And she still had Jaeryth.
He was stirring, trying to sit up. “Whoa. Take it easy,” she whispered. “Don’t move too fast. I’m not sure how this is supposed to work, but you might not be a hundred percent just yet.”
“Logan?” His voice was much stronger, and laced with confusion. “I am not dead. How did this happen?”
“I don’t know.” She was still crying, though the tears stemmed from pure joy. She squeezed his hand in the dark. “It’s a miracle.”
“A miracle,” he repeated in rasping tones.
An electric hum surrounded them and light flooded the stage. Someone must’ve gotten the power back on. Tex, Reid and Blue stood in a loose semi-circle off to the side, gazing wordlessly at them. No one spoke, as if they were afraid to break whatever spell had allowed this to happen.
“Can you get up?” Logan said gently. “The whole world is staring. I think they’re worried about you.”
He gave a slow nod. It took a few tries, but they both managed to stand. Then Jaeryth slid his arms around her—and gave her a searing kiss that set her blood to boiling. He drew back a fraction. “I never thought I’d get to say this to you myself,” he murmured against her lips. “I love you, Logan Frost. With every fiber of my being.” He kissed her again, this time with infinite tenderness. “Never forget that.”
And eight thousand people cheered.
* * * * *
Jaeryth stayed exactly where he was as activity returned to the stage, desperate to hold Logan as long as he could. Though he still ached everywhere, the fiery anguish that had resided in his chest was gone and he could breathe without choking on blood. And something fundamental had changed inside him, though he had no idea what or how.
He could see the blood that had drained from him—too much for a human to lose and still draw breath. There was no doubt that she’d performed a miracle.
She’d manifested. She was truly safe. Hell would not come after her again, and he was pleased that
he’d played some part in ensuring that.
But now, Samael would come to claim him.
He wouldn’t bring it up and spoil her happiness. She was radiant. The most beautiful thing in all the world. He wanted to remember her like this, in the darkness to come.
Logan shifted in his arms and stared at his chest. “So, are you…”
“Completely healed.” He smiled at her. “And you?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She glanced around the stage. “I have no idea what we’re supposed to do now, though. Nobody’s leaving. Shouldn’t they evacuate or something?” Her brow furrowed. “You know, I haven’t heard any sirens, either.”
“Perhaps no one called for them.”
“Somebody gets shot and not one in eight thousand people calls the cops? I don’t buy it.”
She did have a point.
Jaeryth looked out at the crowd. The lights around the perimeter of the audience area had been turned on, but it was still difficult to make out individual people. He concentrated on the closest section. While most of them remained enrapt, frustration and anger were beginning to surface on a few faces—and he soon saw the cause of it. Tempters still circulated among them, whispering and grinning, fueling a new flame of outrage.
It was not over.
“Where’s Tex, anyway?” Logan moved a few paces to the side and her gaze lit on something behind him. “Oh, they’re back there. They must’ve been talking to that tech. Maybe he knows what’s going on.”
“Logan…the crowd.”
She frowned. “What about it?”
“They—”
“Excuse me, folks.”
Jaeryth turned to find the technician he’d seen briefly before, the one who seemed out of place, standing a few feet away. Beyond him, Tex and the others were approaching from the far side of the stage. The angel appeared furious.
“First, let me congratulate you, young lady,” the man said. “You gave quite the performance tonight.” He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his cold blue eyes—and at once, Jaeryth understood what was wrong.
That was no man.
He stepped instinctively in front of Logan to shield her. “Samael.”
“Oh, very good, Jaeryth. I am impressed.” Samael shimmered briefly and his appearance morphed into the same one he’d used before, all red leather and nastiness. “But not impressed enough to spare you.”
Tex had almost reached them, but he stopped at the Prince’s display and wariness replaced his anger. He caught Jaeryth’s eye, who shook his head slightly to warn him back, hoping the angel understood.
Apparently he did, because he spread his arms to halt Blue and Reid, assuming the same defensive position for them.
“Samael,” Logan said faintly. “Aren’t you—”
“The Prince of Hell, my dear. At your service.” He bowed and came up grinning. “Well. Not really.”
Tex glared at him. “You have no reason to be here. Go back to Hell.”
“How charming you are, protecting the humans,” Samael said. “Of course I won’t bother with them. But you and I can have at it, if you’d like. Angel.”
“She’s manifested. You can’t touch her.”
“Silly angel.” A wicked smile curved his lips. “Who said I was here for her?”
Tex blanched a dull white, and horrified understanding dawned on his face.
“Now, if you’ll just stay back for a moment, I’ll collect what’s mine and be on my way.” The Prince sent a meaningful look at Jaeryth.
“No!” Logan grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back. “You can’t have him.”
“Oh, but I can. Hasn’t Jaeryth explained things to you?”
“Logan.” His voice trembled as he covered her hand with his. “Please remember that I love you.”
Samael sneered. “Love! You know, Jaeryth, if I hadn’t heard you say that, I might have considered restoring you as a demon. Eventually.”
Jaeryth fixed him with a cool gaze. “I would have refused.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He shuddered beneath Samael’s blazing stare, but he wouldn’t look away. “I will not compound the mistakes I’ve already made. I would have refused, and I’ll always refuse, no matter what torments you visit on me.”
Samael arched an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that,” he said. “Come along, Jaeryth. Tartarus awaits your arrival.”
Logan stiffened. “I don’t care what you’re the prince of, I won’t let you do this.”
“Let me? Oh, my.” Samael’s laughter rent the air. “Such a shame you chose the wrong side, prophet. You would have amused me.”
“Get out of here, you sick—”
“Stop.” Jaeryth held her tightly, until she relaxed with a frustrated sob. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve always known the consequences. I just didn’t know what I was paying for, until now.” He tilted her chin up to catch her eyes. “You were worth it.”
Samael coughed deliberately. “I don’t have all day, Jaeryth. And the natives are getting restless.”
He’d forgotten about the crowd.
The background murmur had risen steadily, and now ripples of sound undulated through the arena. Every last one of them was on their feet. The Tempters still circulated, but they moved slowly, wearing identical looks of confusion. The people weren’t listening to them.
A low, rhythmic thread wove itself beneath the wash of noise, growing louder and stronger until it separated into words. They were chanting Logan’s name.
“You can’t have him.”
The voice was Logan’s, layered over itself and booming like thunder. She moved in front of him, and he saw what had roused the crowd.
She was infused with the light of Citadel.
A golden glow bathed her body, and her eyes burned like blue flames. Though the light wasn’t particularly bright, it banished her shadow and made her appear to float along the edge of existence. “Leave, demon,” she said. “There’s nothing here for you.”
She gestured, and beams of light burst forth from her in multiple directions, fanning out to gild everything they touched. The band’s equipment, and the stage itself, shone like sun-kissed stained glass. A single, wide ray climbed toward the heavens and broke against the night sky, painting an aurora borealis across the clouds in shades of gold and bronze.
The crowd released a collective gasp as the light rippled through its ranks—and vaporized every Tempter in its path.
Samael winced and threw an arm up to shield his eyes. The onslaught of light drew hissing, blackened steam from his body in sheets. “Touché, prophet,” he said. “I’ll just take my consolation prize.”
With a snake-fast gesture, he grabbed Jaeryth’s arm and wrenched him away from Logan—and released it just as quickly, as though he’d been burned. “Impossible!”
As Jaeryth gaped at him, the steam surrounding Samael bubbled into thick smoke that obscured him completely, and then sank into the floor of the stage, leaving nothing behind.
And a thunderous ovation exploded from the crowd.
Logan rushed over and embraced him. “Wow,” she breathed. “Did all that really come from me?”
“Yes, it did.” He held her close, scarcely able to believe he was still here and not in Tartarus. “I’ve always known you were strong. But…”
She looked up at him. “What is it?”
“I don’t understand. Samael had me. Why did he let me go?”
Tex spoke from behind him, sounding considerably shaken. “I know why.”
“You do.” Jaeryth turned to regard the angel. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Because you’re human now. Fully human.” Tex shook his head as an expression of awed disbelief came over him. “I’m not sure if it was something you did or she did. Maybe both. But…you have a soul. I can see it.”
Jaeryth stared down at himself, as though he might actually catch a glimpse of it. Of course, he saw nothing. But could this be what he’d felt, the change
inside him? If it were true—
“That means they can’t come after you again,” Logan said. “Right?”
He blinked. “Correct,” he said slowly. “How did you…”
“Kobol told me.”
“Of course he did.” Jaeryth smirked.
“Okay, y’all,” Reid’s bemused voice cut in. “Do I even wanna know what just happened?”
Blue came up beside him, wide eyed and staring. “I vote no,” she said. “I can’t afford the therapy bill.” She cast a glance out across the crowd, where the cheering was subdued but still present. “Why wasn’t there a riot out there? That was some crazy shit.”
Reid grinned. “Don’t you see, darlin’? They think it’s all part of the show.” He waved at them.
The crowd responded with a roar.
“I guess they do.” Tex offered a mock grimace. “Great. Now we’ll have to shoot someone every time we play out. Care to volunteer for the job, Jaeryth?”
He shuddered. “No, thank you.”
“Not funny, Tex.” A small smile nevertheless lingered on Logan’s lips, but it faded as she regarded the energized gathering. “So what do we do? I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”
Indeed, the crowd’s anticipation seemed to heighten with every moment. A new chant began somewhere toward the back and rippled its way through the arena.
“We want the band! We want the band!”
“Even if we wanted to, we can’t do the show.” Tex made a weak gesture. “I mean, the stage is wrecked and…” He stared at the floor, and his brow lifted in surprise. “Okay. That’s pretty strange.”
Jaeryth followed the stare. The bloodstain had vanished.
“Anyway,” Tex said. “The techs left—the real ones, I mean. That son of a bitch had them convinced he was in charge and sent them home so they wouldn’t interrupt him. That’s what he was telling me before…you know. So we’ve got no one to run the lights and sound.”
Just as he finished speaking, the lone floodlight snapped off and a frenzy of colored lights whirled across the stage, almost indignantly.
