by S W Vaughn
Tex stared up into the overhanging gridwork. “What the . . .?”
A sudden suspicion came over Jaeryth. “I may be able to solve this one,” he said. “Tempters can manipulate electricity, with enough effort. Can Shepherds as well?”
“Um. I guess they can. But why would—”
Daan descended slowly from the rafters, bedraggled but whole. The Shepherd gave a cheery little wave and a thumbs-up, and then winked out of sight. Seconds later, the floodlight turned on again.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “What was that?”
“My guardian angel.” Jaeryth laughed softly. “Well…what is it they say? The show must go on.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Logan said. “I just got you back.”
“Yes. And I will never leave you again.” He kissed her, allowing his lips to linger against hers for a moment. “This is your dream, Logan. Take it. When the show is over, I’ll still be here.”
Her smile eclipsed the blazing lights overhead. “Thank you.”
He moved toward the back of the stage in search of a decent vantage point. The band took their places and the crowd erupted with enough noise to fill the world.
Jaeryth seated himself on the top stair to enjoy the show. He could afford to wait—and he knew it would be worth every moment.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was one in the morning by the time Tex exited the highway in Pottstown. Jaeryth had fallen asleep in the back seat—not that Logan could blame him for that. He’d been through hell.
The unintended irony of the thought made her laugh aloud.
Tex smirked at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing.” She glanced back at Jaeryth and warmth flooded her instantly. It still felt unreal that he was here, and whole, and going home with her—to stay this time. More than one dream had come true tonight.
“Frost. You’re glowing.”
She jumped a little. “I am?”
“Well, not literally this time.” Tex gave her a smile. “Okay. I admit it.”
“And ‘it’ would be…?”
“I was wrong about him.”
“Yes, you were.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? We have preconceived notions about demons.” His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror. “But I’m still keeping an eye on him. If he ever hurts your feelings, I’ll kick his ass.”
“I heard that,” Jaeryth slurred from the back. “Bring it on, angel.”
“All right, you two,” Logan said. “Play nice.”
“If you insist.” They’d nearly reached her street and Tex signaled to turn. “So, you know what happens now, right?”
“I sleep for a week.”
He grinned. “Besides that.”
“Um…not a clue.”
“Contracts. Record deals. Tours. After tonight, you’re on the world’s radar. They’re going to want more, and they’ll want it fast.” Concern flashed across his face. “Do you think you can handle this?”
“Probably.” A smile touched her lips. “Miss Turner’s gonna kill me, though.”
Tex laughed. “And drown me in paperwork.”
They reached the house. When the car stopped, Jaeryth eased himself upright and blinked groggily. “Are we home now?”
“Definitely,” she said. Home was a very good word.
She got out and met Jaeryth on the passenger side and Tex rolled down his window. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night for practice,” he said. “The usual time.”
Logan made a face. “Don’t we get a night off?”
“Not a chance. Welcome to the big-time, Frost.” He dropped a wink. “Oh, and bring your notebooks. You know, the ones you shoved in that drawer.”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t just do covers any more. We’re going to need original material.”
Her breath caught. “We’re going to play my songs?”
“Yep. Starting tomorrow.”
She exchanged goodnights with him and Jaeryth managed to mutter something halfway civil. Once Tex drove away, she turned to Jaeryth and said, “Well. Here we are.”
He smiled. “Indeed.”
“Do you want to come inside? I could make some iced tea.”
His reply was a long, slow kiss that melted her senses.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “Skip the tea.”
“Good idea.”
She grabbed his hand and led him into the house. Part of her tried to worry about the future—there were so many challenges ahead. Besides the band stuff, she’d probably still struggle with addiction-related problems, off and on. She’d have to deal regularly with angels and demons. And there was that trifling thing about inspiring millions of people.
But for now, there was her and Jaeryth. And that was more than enough.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Logan frowned at the full-length mirror. The silver-trimmed black corset worked, but she wasn’t sure about the skirt—floor-length black silk with a two-foot train and a gauzy silver overlay. Maybe the gauze was too much. She tugged a stray wrinkle out of one fingerless glove, struck a serious pose and stared at her reflection. “I do,” she squeaked.
Oh, yeah. That sounded like the famous Logan Frost, all right.
She cleared her throat and said, “Rock on!” then grimaced. Too cheesy. Maybe she should just stick to tradition for this part. The rest of the ceremony was going to be different enough. Sometimes, you just had to go with the classics.
The door to the dressing room opened. Logan glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Blue, who looked stunning in her blood-red bridesmaid’s dress. She’d taken pains to make sure the shade didn’t clash with the bassist’s hair. “Did you find any?”
“Got it.” Blue held up a small white bag, presumably containing glitter body spray. Grinning, she swept across the room and tossed the bag on the table next to the mirror. “You are never gonna guess who’s out there now.”
Logan bit her lip and told herself that queasy feeling in her stomach would go away before the ceremony. She knew the band’s new manager had invited every A-list musician and celebrity he could scrounge addresses for, and Blue had been regaling her all morning with a blow-by-blow of the arriving guests. With every big name, her nerves had frayed a little more.
The sudden fame had unnerved her. She just wanted to sing. But if celebrity status meant she could reach more people through her music, she’d have to deal with it.
“Go on, guess!” Blue was practically vibrating.
“Johnny Depp?”
“Better.” Blue’s grin widened. “Ozzy and Sharon.”
Logan drew an involuntary breath. “You mean Osbourne? That Ozzy and Sharon?”
“Yep.”
“Ohmygod,” she said in a rush. And she hadn’t thought her heart could beat any faster. Legendary musicians were coming to see her. It was unreal. She swallowed a few times and forced a slanted smile across her face. “Does that mean Johnny’s not coming?”
“Who is Johnny, and why should he be coming when I am not?”
The deep voice rumbled from the open doorway and melted Logan’s jitters, along with a few other unmentionable parts. She turned with an actual smile and beheld her husband-to-be, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms and a mock scowl that didn’t reach his sparkling green eyes.
Damn, he was sexy in black. It really brought out the demon in him.
“Jaeryth!” Blue said sharply. “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. It’s bad luck. Get out of here.”
Jaeryth frowned. “I will not,” he said. “I’ve had enough of people following me about and throwing themselves at me. I want to see my wife.”
“Almost wife.” Still smiling, Logan glanced at Blue. “Can you give us a few minutes?”
Blue let out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Don’t blame me if it rains all over the reception, or Freddy Krueger pops out of the wedding cake.” She smirked and gave Logan a quick hug. “Make
him behave,” she said. “I can’t run out and get you another dress.”
“He will.”
“That is what you think,” Jaeryth said with a wicked grin.
When Blue flounced out, Jaeryth closed the door and crossed the room in long strides, then grabbed her and bestowed a searing kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her lips.
“Yeah. It’s been, like, hours,” she managed after she caught her breath. With just a kiss, he could do things to her insides that should drop her dead on the spot—and she loved every second of it. She wrapped her arms around his waist and smirked up at him. “What are you going to do when I’m on tour?”
“I will go with you.”
“And when I’m onstage?”
“I’ll be there too.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes.” He flashed another heated smile. “And we will make love before ten thousand screaming mortals, so they know that you’re mine.”
She laughed. “Be careful, Jaeryth. You’re going to tarnish that shiny new soul of yours.”
“Oh, I intend to.” He held her closer, and his hands slipped down to places they definitely shouldn’t go right now. “By the time I’m finished with it, this soul will be blacker than the depths of Hell. You have no idea what I plan to do with you, my love. Starting with this.” He brushed his fingertips down the latticed cord that held the corset closed across her breasts, and a delicious shiver worked down her spine. “I can hardly wait to unwrap this perfect gift.”
“Gift?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “If I’m giving you these, what do I get?”
He smiled, and her world stopped. “My heart,” he whispered. “And my soul. Forever.”
“I can live with that,” she said huskily.
He kissed her again. At once, all of her worries about little things like clothes, ceremonies and celebrities vanished. She could handle anything the world threw at her, with Jaeryth to keep her going. And best of all, Hell could never touch him—either of them—again.
They had the key to heaven right here on earth. And that key was love.
About the Author
S.W. Vaughn lives in scenic, temperate (in other words, bloody cold) central New York, with her husband, son, sister, two nephews, twelve cats, one dog and assorted wildlife. She drinks a lot of coffee and doesn’t wear socks. She has been failing to learn Japanese for several years.
First and foremost, Vaughn is a writer. In addition, she has also held the following fascinating jobs: McSlave™, gas station attendant, department secretary (don’t ask what department), parking lot watcher, really bad waitress, shuttle bus rider counter, glass bottle sorter, door-to-door perfume salesperson, newspaper assembler, spin doctor, editor and freelance chauffeur.
Vaughn publishes in several genres. Most of them are paranormal, and all of them favor the dark side. However, she’s a really nice person. Honest.
S.W. welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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