“You’ve been doing that?”
“No. But I was thinking about starting.”
“Not the best idea. Eight thousand naked people doesn’t sound like an inspiring sight. I don’t know about you, but it’d scare the crap out of me.” Smiling, Tex flicked on the signal and slowed the car, and Logan realized they’d already reached the house. He swung into the driveway and eased the gear into park. “If I leave you here, do you promise not to change your name and move to Canada?”
“Way to ruin my plans, counselor.” She smirked as she unbuckled the seatbelt. “Fine. I guess I won’t, since you’re onto me.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow night for practice.”
They said goodbye, and she climbed out of the car and took her time walking to the porch, to make sure Tex was out of sight before she opened the door. After he drove away, she went inside—and found Jaeryth pacing back and forth behind the couch.
“Logan,” he said with obvious relief. He reached her almost before she got the door closed and swept her into a crushing embrace. “You’re home.”
Most of her resolve melted away on the spot, and she hugged him back. Being in his arms felt unbelievably right. “Wow. I must’ve been gone for an hour and a half. That’s the same as forever.” She smiled up at him. “I missed you too.”
“I can promise you that I’ve missed you more.” He eased back, but only a little. “Is…everything all right?”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
His expression sharpened. “What happened?”
“Whoa. Everything’s fine.” Damn. His concern was going to make things that much harder. How was she supposed to be suspicious of him when she was falling for him more every minute? They had to talk—but not here. The bedroom was way too close. “How about we go for a walk, and I’ll tell you all about it?”
“Yes. A walk.” He reached past her and pulled the door open. “I like this idea.”
She frowned. “Kind of in a hurry, aren’t you?”
“I—” He stiffened, and then relaxed visibly, like he’d forced himself into it. “It was wonderful to walk with you last night. I’d enjoy doing it again.”
“So would I.” She suspected there was more to his reaction, but they could discuss it later. Right along with why he didn’t have a job, or friends, or a last name.
On impulse, she headed them in the opposite direction from the Wawa, toward the more residential sections of town. She realized she wanted to avoid the familiar. Hopefully, there would be fewer distractions this way.
“Okay, I promised to tell you what happened,” she said. “So here goes.”
She explained about the club show selling out and moving to the riverside, and the huge crowd they expected. “It’s an amazing opportunity for the band,” she said. “It’s everything I ever wanted. And…I’m terrified.”
He frowned. “You’re afraid to take what you want?”
“Yeah. Crazy, right?” She watched the sidewalk. “I feel like I’m going to disappoint everyone. Let them down. Like I’m not what they’re coming to hear.”
“I see.” Jaeryth went quiet for a minute. “These people who are buying the tickets. Have they never listened to Ruined Soul?”
“Sure they have.”
“So they’ve never heard you, then.”
“Well…I guess so. The YouTube stuff seems to be spreading, and there were all those people at the Pelican last night.”
“Ah. So you believe they’re all spending money on something they have no interest in. Perhaps they’re attending the concert because they enjoy being shoved and trampled in a large crowd.”
She tried not to laugh, but it burst out anyway. “Either that, or they like stale vendor pretzels and overpriced blow-up guitars.”
“Logan. Don’t you see?” His fingers brushed her arm, filling her with electric warmth. “You are what they want. They’re buying tickets to hear Logan Frost sing with Ruined Soul. You shouldn’t fear the crowd—you should embrace it. If they didn’t want to hear your music, they would not be there.”
Something shifted and shattered inside her, an invisible weight she hadn’t even known she was carrying. You are what they want. Could it really be that simple? Her eyes stung, and she swallowed past the catch in her throat.
She wasn’t afraid any more.
“Holy shit.” Smiling, she reached out and took his hand. “I think you just cured me of my stage fright. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.”
They walked for a few minutes without talking, and Logan tried to figure out a casual way to work in some of her questions. She’d started to think maybe she didn’t need to know everything. She trusted him—and for her, that was saying a lot.
Gradually, she realized that they’d wandered into a part of town she’d never been to before, and it didn’t seem like the best part. She’d been caught up in conversation and failed to notice that the quality of the houses had declined. There was a lot of peeling paint and empty weed-choked lots, plenty of graffiti and busted windows. Ahead of them, a pair of battered sneakers tied at the laces hung listlessly from the power lines. And the street was far too quiet.
“Jaeryth,” she said slowly. “I think we should go back.”
He cast her a puzzled glance, but he nodded. “All right.”
They turned around. At the end of the block stood a shambling house with weathered, unpainted board walls and plywood nailed clumsily over all but two of the windows. The small yard surrounding it was bare, hard-packed dirt, and the middle of the sagging wooden steps leading to the front door had broken in half. When they neared it, a faint and sickening odor invaded Logan’s nostrils—ammonia and sulfur.
She knew that stench. The place was a meth lab.
And the door was opening.
“Come on,” she whispered urgently, picking up the pace. “We really don’t want to be here.”
Jaeryth glanced toward the house. “What—”
“Hey!” The door slammed open, and a man in a ratty coat and a filthy baseball cap stumbled out. “Hey, you. You!”
“Oh, Jesus.” Logan shuddered. “He’s tweaking.”
Then she noticed the misshapen lump on his back and realized what it was. One of the freaks, riding the man like some demented child playing piggyback. Its fingers curled around the tweaker’s shoulders and dug into his coat, and it wore a horrific grin as it whispered constantly into the man’s ear.
Logan tried to shout, to warn Jaeryth. But she choked on the words when first one, then a dozen or more black-clad figures surged from the house and started toward them—coming out the door, through the walls and the boarded windows. More and more joined in, until it seemed there had to be a hundred of them. Their rasping voices rose and fell, barely audible, but she made out two words that kept repeating, over and over.
Kill her.
“Hey. You.”
The tweaker shoved a hand inside his grease-stained coat. And pulled out a gun.
* * * * *
Without a second’s hesitation, Jaeryth launched himself at the man with the weapon.
The gun thundered as they went down, deafening him. A painful, high-pitched whine filled his ears and blocked all sound. He ignored it to concentrate on disarming the man—not an easy task, as the human bucked and twisted violently beneath him, still trying to aim at Logan.
He caught the man’s wrist and slammed it against the ground. The grip didn’t ease. He did it again, and a third time. Finally, the gun shifted loose. Jaeryth grabbed it and threw it as far as he could.
The man howled like a wounded animal—and increased his struggles to break free. “Kill her,” he snarled through the spittle bubbling on his lips. “Kill her, kill her!” He wrenched an arm loose and managed to land a stinging blow to Jaeryth’s face.
As Jaeryth grappled with the man, attempting to force him to stay down, the Tempters swarmed over them and smothered his vision in darkness.
But the human coul
d still see.
“Jaeryth!”
Logan’s voice was muffled through his still-ringing ears. He swiveled blindly toward the sound, intending to call out to her, tell her to run.
A hand clamped onto his throat with a grip like iron.
He lashed out with his fists, missing as often as striking, the blows weakening as his breath ran out. His body lifted slowly as the man rose beneath him. How could this human possess such strength?
“Get away from him!”
The instant Logan screamed, some of the pressure on his throat eased. He grabbed the man’s arm in both hands and forced it down, gasping in air while he still could. With his hearing damaged and his vision obliterated, he couldn’t even defend himself, much less fight back.
Then a collective cry rose from the Tempters, and jags of brilliant golden light streaked through the blackness. The light spread, swallowing everything around him.
It vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. And the Tempters were gone.
Jaeryth found himself kneeling on the attacker. Snarling, he drew back for a blow—but he hesitated when he realized the man had stopped struggling. He lay slack and still, staring up with glassy eyes and foam drying on his lips.
He flinched when someone touched his shoulder. The sound of Logan’s voice kept him from striking.
“Jaeryth,” she whispered. “He tried to kill me.”
The pain behind those words sliced at him. He got to his feet, turned and drew her into his arms. “Yes. But he failed.”
“You…you saved my life.” Logan shuddered all over and leaned into him. “Oh, God. Those things…why are they after me?” A wrenching sob escaped her, and she buried her face in his chest.
He rubbed her back until she stopped trembling, wishing he knew what to say. Finally, she eased back and sniffled once, then looked around him to where the attacker still presumably lay. “I should call 911,” she said. “Maybe they can save him. I think he’s still breathing.”
Jaeryth’s jaw loosened in shock. “You want to help him? Logan, he nearly shot you!”
“It wasn’t his fault.” She sent a sad glance at the man, and then produced her phone. “It’s the drugs. And those freaks were obviously controlling him. I’ll just be a minute.” She moved reluctantly back from him and turned away to make the call.
Jaeryth closed his eyes. He’d taken a pounding at the mad human’s hands, but that pain was nothing compared to the anguish coursing through him at nearly losing Logan. Ronwe had found her once. He would do so again. Every demon and Tempter in the area would be looking for her now. The incredible power she’d displayed to banish them would protect her—but only if she understood what they were, and why she had the ability to stop them.
The only way to keep her safe was to tell her the truth. All of it. He had to make her believe it absolutely, because if she did not, she’d never see them coming. And once he’d confessed, his fate would be sealed. He may as well turn himself over to Samael.
But he was willing to accept an eternity of torment, if it meant that Logan would live.
“It’s done.” Logan turned back, tucking the phone away. “I didn’t give my name. But we should get out of here. This place is going to be mobbed with cops soon.”
“Agreed.” Jaeryth summoned a smile he didn’t feel. “Let’s get you home. You’ve been through enough tonight.”
“I like this idea.”
She took his hand, and Jaeryth allowed her to lead the way. He savored the warmth of her skin against his and the way the night accentuated her beauty. These were likely his last moments with her. Once he told her that he was a demon sent to corrupt her soul, she’d want nothing to do with him—and he could not blame her.
He had failed completely. And now he’d lose everything.
Chapter 20
For the first time since Logan had moved in, the house actually felt like home. Relief flooded her when she walked inside, with Jaeryth close behind her, and switched on the living room light. She still didn’t understand exactly what had happened back there, where all that light had come from, or why the freaks went away. But she wasn’t going to question it right now.
If Jaeryth hadn’t been there, she would’ve died. Suddenly, knowing his last name didn’t matter any more.
She turned to him, and her relief died at the sight of the absolute misery etched into his face. “What is it?”
He stared at her with haunted eyes. “We need to talk.”
“Okay. Should we sit down?”
“Yes.”
Something told her that whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. But she crossed the room and settled on the couch. After a moment, Jaeryth approached like a convict headed for the gas chamber. He sat down slowly, not looking at her, and drew in a shaking breath. “I’d hoped it would never come to this,” he said. “But I won’t let you die. I have to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He bowed his head. “I know what they are.”
“The freaks?” Her blood ran cold. “You know?”
“Yes.” The word barely left his lips. “They’re called Tempters. They are minor demons, tasked with influencing humans to sin and commit evil acts.”
“Demons,” Logan repeated. “Okay, I’m starting to think you actually are crazy. If I hadn’t seen them myself—”
“I’m not crazy, and they are demons.” Jaeryth’s head came up slowly and he faced her with reluctance. “I know this because I was in charge of them.”
“So you’re a demon.”
“Yes. At least, I was.”
“Oh, come on!” She shot to her feet, paced a few steps away and whirled on him. “Do you really think I’m going to buy this bullshit? Demons are about as real as unicorns and leprechauns. What are you trying to pull here?”
“Logan, please.” The pain in his voice reflected in his eyes. “Hear me out, and then decide whether you believe me.”
She wanted to refuse. This was absolutely ridiculous. But with everything he’d done for her, maybe she owed him an audience—and once he vented this conspiracy theory of his, or whatever this insanity was, they could try to figure out what was really going on. “All right,” she said, and sat back down. “Explain.”
He nodded, as though convincing himself to continue. “Let me start with the basics,” he said. “Demons and angels exist. Our worlds—Shade and Citadel—are part of yours, though most humans will not see them. They overlap one another, but Shade and Citadel cannot exist in the same place. Do you understand?”
“No.”
“All right.” He let out a sigh. “We compete for control, demons and angels. The more corruption and discord there is among humans, the greater the area of Shade. More peace and happiness, more Citadel. But there is a greater prize that we fight for. Certain humans called Prophets, who have the power to influence millions.”
“Prophets,” she said with a heavy dose of skepticism. “Elijah and Mohammed, guys like that.”
“They were, yes. But Prophets can be good or evil. John F. Kennedy was one, and so was Adolph Hitler. Mother Teresa and Saddam Hussein. Mahatma Gandhi and Charles Manson.” He looked at her with fierce intensity. “Logan Frost.”
“Excuse me?”
“You are a Prophet, Logan.” A sad smile formed on his lips. “That’s why you can see the Tempters and banish them. That’s why they want you.”
“No.” She edged away from him, shaking her head. “No way. They’ve got the wrong chick. I’m a junkie, a nobody.” Shit, she was buying into this. It almost made sense, if she could get past the whole angels and demons thing. But that just wasn’t possible.
“You are not nobody,” he said. “You are a Prophet, and you are their target. You must accept this. It’s the only way you can protect yourself.”
She shivered. “I can’t.”
“Very well.” Jaeryth grimaced and closed his eyes. “I’ll prove it.”
“I don’t think you can.”
He l
ooked at her. “When you left your father’s house, you lived in Crystaltown. You were addicted to crystal meth. You stayed with your boyfriend, who was in a band, but you never performed. And then you stayed with a girl named Deenie.”
Her heart dropped into her gut. “How could you know that?” she said. “Oh my God. Tex told you, didn’t he?”
“No, he did not.” A muscle worked along Jaeryth’s jaw. “Once, you tried to call someone. Your Gran. But she didn’t answer, and then you remembered she was dead. You cried for hours.”
“You can’t know that!” Shock brought her to her feet. “No one does. I never talked about Gran. Who are you?”
His fingers clenched, unclenched. “I told you. I am a demon.”
“But everyone can see you. Not just me.”
“Yes,” he said. “I was made human. Stripped of my wings and tail, and sent here to…”
Wings and tail. The scars on his back. Oh, Jesus, maybe he was telling the truth. “Sent here to what?” she whispered.
“To corrupt you. Turn you to our side.” His voice emerged ragged and hoarse. “Demons aren’t permitted to kill humans. We can only influence them, as the Tempters did to the man who attacked you. So the Prince of Hell made me human and demanded that if I failed to turn you—”
“You’d kill me.” It hurt to say the words, but not as much as it had to hear this. She felt the blood drain from her face as she backed away. “Jaeryth…”
“I never would have done it,” he whispered. “I doubt you’ll believe that, but it’s true.”
As she struggled to hold back the scream rising in her, a new realization surfaced, slicing her further apart. “Fred. You’re Fred. You were the voice!” She hitched a breath, and tears streamed hotly down her face. “You ruined my life once. And then you came back to do it again.”
“Please. Let me—”
“Get out.” She stalked to the front door and yanked it open. “Get out of my house. Get out of my life.”
He rose slowly, but made no move to leave. “They will come back,” he said. “You must watch for the Tempters. You have the power to stop them, if you see them in time. You are a Prophet.”
Demon's Song Page 18
