They hung a right onto yet another street packed with cars. Midway down the block, Logan saw the neon sign for The Pelican Room.
And she also saw the massive, three- and four-deep line of people that snaked from the door and stretched down the sidewalk.
“Oh my God,” she said in strangled tones.
Blue’s mouth hung open in almost comic shock. No words came out.
“What’s wrong?” Jaeryth went from detached to alert in two seconds flat.
She turned sideways and smirked. “Three dozen plus one,” she said. “I think Blue’s head count is a little low.” She tried not to look directly at the lines, or the packed parking lot. The idea that all these people were here for Ruined Soul made her downright queasy. And she hadn’t even brought a bucket this time.
“Um. Wow.” Blue slowed as they neared the parking lot entrance and stared at the waiting throngs. “They giving away free beer in there, or what?”
A weak laugh was the best Logan could manage. This was just unreal. They wouldn’t even be able to fit that many people into the place…would they?
“Good thing we get special parking privileges.” Gravel crunched loud beneath the tires as Blue threaded the car through the overfilled lot. She pulled around to the back door, killed the engine and faced Logan. “I think we’re gonna need extra security tonight,” she said, then threw a glance toward the back seat. “How about it, neighbor?”
Jaeryth’s brow furrowed. “How about what?”
“Ever bounce a bar before?”
“No.”
“It’s easy. You stand between the stage and the crowd and look angry. If anybody tries to rush up, you push ’em back.” Blue grinned. “I think you’d be real good at it. Especially the angry-looking part.”
He looked at Logan. “I’ll do this for you,” he said. “If you’d like me to.”
Oh, God. Why did he have to make it sound like he was offering to sleep with her or something? Come to think of it, just about everything he said to her sounded that way. It was that gorgeous voice of his. She was going to melt all over Blue’s upholstery. “I’d like that,” she managed. “Thank you.”
She couldn’t imagine actually needing protection—but it sure wouldn’t hurt to have Jaeryth to look at while she was up there.
* * * * *
Hell’s flames. Just this morning Jaeryth had sworn off protecting Logan, and here he was doing it again. This was not helping his mission. But if she was injured by some enthusiastic human, as the woman called Blue seemed to think might happen, his progress—such as it was—would come to a halt.
Besides, large crowds of mortals mixed with music and alcohol were very attractive to Tempters, and he didn’t want Ronwe’s underlings anywhere near her. He would handle the corrupting himself, where Logan was concerned.
He’d been frustrated to note that she seemed to have pushed the earlier encounter with the Tempter from her mind, if she hadn’t dismissed it entirely. He had hoped it would speed her awakening, if nothing else, but still she denied her vision. Perhaps tonight, after this concert, he would discuss it with her.
For now, though, it would require every bit of his concentration to interact correctly with all these mortals. Tex already suspected him. The angel could do nothing without revealing himself in the process—but the others were different. They had no secret identities to hide, and they would notice any strangeness.
He followed Logan and Blue through an unmarked door at the back of the building and into a cavernous, nearly empty room, which remained that way apparently because of four large men standing in the opening between this room and the next. Beyond the guards, people crowded thickly, awash in pale light from the signs above the bar. The roar of their chatter resounded through the building.
At least there were far fewer humans in this room. Besides himself and the women, there were two men on a stage jumbled with equipment and a lone man who hovered in the middle of the room, staring uncertainly at the crowds.
One of the men on the stage, a muscular blond with several colorful tattoos, leapt easily to the floor and ambled toward them with a smile. “Y’all have any problems gettin’ in?”
“Piece of cake,” Blue said. “I only had to run over four or five screaming fans.”
The man shook his head and grinned at Logan. “Damn, short stuff. You got ’em comin’ out of the woodwork now. I never seen anything like this.”
“It’s not me.” Logan blanched, and looked as though she might be sick. “I only invited one guy. Well…two, I guess.”
“Invited?” Laughing, the man slung an arm around her shoulder. “You didn’t have to, darlin’. They’re here for that angel voice of yours.”
Jaeryth silently congratulated himself on his restraint and held back a grin when Logan twisted away from the man. “It’s not me,” she repeated, and let out a shuddering breath. “So where’s Tex? I thought he’d beat us here.”
The blond blinked in surprise, actually looked at Jaeryth for the first time, and flashed a quick frown. “You ain’t Tex.”
“How observant,” he intoned.
Logan elbowed him and cleared her throat. “Jaeryth, this is Reid Rivers, and vice versa. Reid plays guitar.”
“Yeah?” Reid raised an eyebrow. “Who’s he?”
“Temporary security,” Blue said. “What’s wrong, Reid—afraid he’s gonna steal your groupies before you get to them?”
Reid laughed. “Pretty sure there’s plenty to go around tonight,” he said. “And I never go home alone. Unlike some uptight chicks I know.”
“Some of us would rather be uptight than contagious.”
“Careful, Blue. Some day, you’re gonna bust the wrong set of balls.”
“Guys.”
The single word from Logan was enough to stop the fight and ease most of the tension—yet another indication of her latent power. It would not stay latent for long.
Blue shook her head and smiled at Logan. “Sorry, Mom. We’re done,” she said. “I guess we’d better get set up, before that crowd eats us alive.”
“Great,” Reid said. “What about Tex—or are we just gonna go unplugged tonight? I didn’t bring my acoustic.”
As though the statement had summoned him, the back door opened and Tex strode through.
Logan smiled. “Speak of the devil.”
The devil, indeed. Jaeryth couldn’t help glaring, though the angel did not even acknowledge his presence. “Sorry, guys,” Tex said. “There’s a little traffic out there.” He headed straight for Logan and curled an arm around her. Only then did he cast Jaeryth a smug look. “You made it. How nice.”
He noticed Logan didn’t shy away from Tex.
The confused-looking man in the center of the room approached when he caught sight of Tex, waving an arm almost frantically. “You’re here,” he said with mingled relief and exasperation. “We’ve got a hell of a crowd. Did you guys offer to buy everyone drinks or something?”
“Come on, Vern.” Tex smiled. “Are you complaining about the extra business?”
“Maybe. I had to call in some favors, get all the bouncers and extra staff in here. I’m not sure it’s gonna be enough.”
The man was introduced as the manager of the place. After a hasty round of pleasantries, Blue said, “You’re in luck, Vern. We brought some spare muscle along.” She gestured to Jaeryth.
Vern the manager cast a critical eye over him. “You ever do security before?”
“No.”
“Whatever. You’re big enough. Come on, I’ll get David to run through things with you.” Vern turned and started away, apparently expecting him to follow.
His breath caught when a small, warm hand slipped into his, and Logan smiled at him. “Sorry you got roped into this,” she said. “But thanks for helping out.” She lifted onto her toes and kissed his cheek.
Where her lips had touched, his skin practically burned.
“My pleasure.” He managed to keep his voice from shaking, though
everything inside him trembled. “I suppose I should go with…Vern.”
“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand and released him. “Don’t go too far, though.”
“You will not leave my sight.”
Pausing to toss a triumphant glance at the angel, whose smoldering glare threatened to set him ablaze, he followed after the manager.
While David explained what was expected of him—basically what Blue had said in the car, only the bouncer used more words—Jaeryth watched Logan as she helped the others carry things to the stage. She’d lost the alarming pallor that had come over her while she talked to Reid, and now she seemed happy, almost excited.
He hoped it wasn’t the angel’s arrival that had lifted her mood.
The blur of activity and David’s instructions made swift work of time, and soon the lights dimmed and humans poured into the room, a mass of energized anticipation. Jaeryth had been compelled to take a position in front of the stage, along with David and another of the bouncers, while Logan and the rest had sequestered themselves to prepare. Now, only the man who monitored the equipment remained on the stage.
A few moments after the room had been filled completely, someone extinguished the overhead lights, leaving only a row of small, white bulbs along the edge of the stage. The crowd hushed enough to hear the flurry of footsteps on wood, the thunk and scratch and click as the unseen band took up their instruments. When the movement stopped, the mob held its collective breath.
“Hello, Pottstown!”
Reid’s amplified voice threw the crowd into a frenzy. Though he was supposed to watch the audience, Jaeryth glanced back long enough to catch a glimpse of Logan under the swirling, multicolored spotlights. She stood at the center behind a microphone stand, poised and breathless—and looking straight at him. Her lips curved into a brief smile just before she closed her eyes.
He turned away reluctantly and attempted to focus on his task. This was going to be a long night.
“Y’all know who we are, right?”
The noise swelled impossibly louder. As he tried to scan the mob, Jaeryth realized that if there were Tempters here, he’d likely never see them. With the lights at his back and the mortals packed tightly together in the dark, nearly every one appeared to be dressed all in black. He would spot nothing unless a human—or a demon—broke through the line and tried for the stage.
“Well, then. Let’s get it on!”
The music began almost before Reid finished speaking, a frenetic rush of dark harmony at ear-thumping volume. It was rather pleasing, as mortal music went.
And then Logan began to sing.
The crowd responded with a definitive roar of approval that Jaeryth scarcely noticed. He’d heard her sing before, to herself and during a handful of so-called practices with the addicts she’d first fallen in with in Crystaltown. She had been good then. Shockingly good.
Now, she was phenomenal.
The power she’d exhibited in small flashes poured into her voice and thundered through the electrical system. Raw emotion hammered every word, sultry and beckoning. It wouldn’t have surprised him if every human in this room fell to their knees and worshipped her, as he was tempted to himself.
At least there was little chance she’d require protection from the demonic element here. Few Tempters would be able to withstand such a display.
When the song ended, the volume did not decrease—the screaming crowds raised their voices to fill the music’s absence. And after a beat, the band launched into a new song.
Jaeryth tried to concentrate on the undulating shadows of the audience before him while Logan’s voice penetrated his blood. With such power, he could understand why those at the bar worried about an attack. The beauty of her voice could drive a mortal to bliss, or to madness. Unfortunately, he could discern little in the shifting, darkened mass.
A figure near the back of the room suddenly caught his attention, one slightly taller and somehow more visible than the rest—perhaps because of the way the mob parted as he moved closer. Even from this distance, the figure was plainly male, though it shouldn’t have been possible to tell.
While the silhouette drew nearer, the music became slightly distorted. Perhaps they were having trouble with the equipment. Concerned, Jaeryth glanced over his shoulder.
As he watched, Logan and the others froze in place—and everything went utterly silent.
Jaeryth swallowed hard, suddenly consumed with dread. He turned back slowly to find the crowd in the same immobile state, save for the distinctive figure navigating through the mortals toward him. Though the lights were still off, he had no trouble seeing the male’s face. Strikingly handsome with dark hair and a goatee, and dusky golden skin. His perfect lips held a grin colder than the ages, but the flames of Hell danced behind his penetrating blue eyes.
Though Jaeryth had never seen this human form, he knew of only one demon that possessed the power to stop time itself.
Samael.
Chapter 16
The Prince of Hell wore blood-red leather. Not a common choice of apparel for the Otherworld, though Jaeryth knew that some of the higher-level demons enjoyed wearing garments of human skin. And he doubted that Samael’s clothing had once been a cow.
Samael emerged through the front lines of the crowd and stopped before him. “Jaeryth.” Even in human form, chilling authority filled his voice. “What in the name of my father are you doing?”
He tamped down rising fury. “I’m working, Sire.”
“Are you?” The Prince cocked his head. “I only ask, Jaeryth, because I have grave concerns regarding your well-being.”
“If that’s the case, then perhaps you should have left me with some of my abilities. Or my clothing.”
Samael laughed. The sound did little to put him at ease. “Jaeryth, you do amuse me so. That must be why I haven’t yet struck you down.” The Prince sent a leisurely glance around the room. “Are you enjoying yourself with these meat-sacks? They can be such unpleasant company, you know. Always scheming and lying and abusing each other. Good times.” He winked.
“Indeed.”
“You disagree?” Samael shook his head, offered a mock sigh and turned to the closest time-stopped human, a female with dark, heavy makeup and unnaturally black hair. “Let’s show him a good time, dear one. Shall we dance?”
Before Jaeryth could react, Samael grabbed the motionless mortal and pulled her from the crowd.
“Strike up the band!” Laughter rolling like thunder, the Prince executed a graceful, demented waltz through the cleared space between stage and crowd, with the female flopping about in his arms like a fresh corpse. He hummed under his breath as he trotted her across the floor and then stopped to dip her.
The human gasped, opened her eyes—and began to shriek.
“Oh, for the love of Hell.” Samael dropped her. When she hit the floor, still screaming, he gestured and froze her mid-shriek. “Females,” he said with a merciless chuckle. “They’re never happy. And speaking of females, let’s have a look at your Prophet.”
Jaeryth had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting. He did not want the Prince anywhere near his Logan—but there was little he could do about it. If he protested, Samael would probably do worse than whatever he already had in mind.
Samael leapt easily onto the stage. But instead of inspecting Logan, he headed for the drum set and Tex. “Brother!” He stopped before the angel, cupped the immobile face in both hands and bent to kiss his forehead. Quick sizzling sounds rose with the contact, and when Samael drew back, a mark in the shape of lips blackened Tex’s skin. The smudged lines blazed orange and evaporated in curls of smoke, leaving only a faint shadow. Shrugging, the Prince turned and hooked a thumb toward the angel. “This one is defective.”
“Is he?” Jaeryth said weakly, wishing with all of what passed as his heart that Samael would leave.
Having apparently lost interest in Tex, the Prince pranced across the stage. He stopped to grab handfuls of Blue’s long,
thick hair, bring it to his nose and inhale deeply, and then to snatch the guitar pick from Reid’s frozen fingers and throw it into the crowd. Finally, he came to Logan. She’d paused in time with her head thrown back and eyes half-closed, the microphone in one hand nearly touching her curved lips while her other hand stretched toward the crowd, beseeching. Beautiful.
After subjecting her to a long, rapacious stare, Samael looked to Jaeryth and grinned. “All right, I’m convinced. She is a Prophet,” he said. “Do you know why I believe this?”
“I couldn’t begin to guess, Sire.”
Samael jumped from the stage and landed in front of him with a thud that shook the building. He was no longer grinning. “Because this place burns with the light of Citadel,” he snarled. “It reeks of good feelings. Every one of these putrid heaps of miserable flesh is happy. And she is the cause of this!”
Jaeryth didn’t even see the Prince move. One moment he was standing—and the next, he was flat on his back with the breath driven from him and Samael’s foot crushing his ribs.
“You are failing me, Jaeryth.” Samael stepped off, reached down and hauled Jaeryth to his feet with one hand. “I do not tolerate failure. Is that understood?”
He gasped for enough air to speak. “Yes, Sire.”
“Ronwe is aware of this problem.” Samael shook him hard enough to jar his bones together. “I do not care which one of you solves it, in what way, but it will be solved. And if Ronwe is the one to rid me of this blight…well, you know what will happen to you.”
“Yes…”
“Say it.”
He hesitated. “Tartarus.”
Samael backhanded him. Pain drilled through his head and the taste of blood filled his mouth. “And worse,” the Prince said. “Your suffering will make the trials of Prometheus seem like a picnic.” He let go and Jaeryth dropped to his knees. “If I were you, Jaeryth, I would simply kill her now. Before Ronwe finds a way to accomplish it.”
With that, Samael strode past the stage, hauled the back door open and vanished into the night.
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