Demon's Song

by Sonya Bateman

  “Stop saying that!”

  “Your friend Tex knows these things. Ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

  “Don’t you dare bring Tex into this,” she snapped. “I should’ve listened to him. He was right about you.”

  Jaeryth flinched. “He’s an angel, Logan. That’s why he knows.”

  “Oh, that’s it. Leave. Before I call the cops.”

  For a moment she thought he wouldn’t, that she really would have to get the police. Finally, he started stiffly toward her. “I’ll go,” he said. “But please, call Tex, and tell him what I’ve told you. You must believe this.” He stopped just outside the doorway and the anguish in his eyes threatened to consume her. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  She glared at him. “Too late.”

  Somehow she managed to close the door on him. She waited until she heard him cross the porch and descend the steps, and then with hands that trembled violently, she dug out her phone and called Tex.

  * * * * *

  Jaeryth decided that he could handle Tartarus after all. What he’d just done had hurt far more than any torment Samael could devise. Seeing her shattered, knowing he’d been the cause of her pain, was the ultimate torture.

  And to rub salt into the wounds, he’d begged her to seek help from the damned angel.

  She seemed to believe him toward the end. However, he would not leave the premises until he was certain she’d be safe. She must have called Tex by now. He would wait and have a few words with the angel, and then he’d go.

  It struck him suddenly that he had no idea what to do with himself now.

  He nearly laughed aloud. How ironic. As a human, he couldn’t simply walk into Hell and turn himself over to Samael. Nor could he care for himself like this—basic needs like food and shelter required money, which he had no way to obtain. He had nowhere to go, and he would probably starve to death.

  Of course, he could always commit suicide. He was already bound for Hell. It wouldn’t matter how he got there.

  He settled on the ground beside the steps to wait for Tex, and occupied his mind with ways to end this mortal life. At least it kept him from thinking of Logan. There was a certain satisfaction in the idea of jumping from a building, as the human whose death he’d regretted causing had done. But if he failed to climb high enough, he might end up crippled instead of dead. He could take pills—he’d have to steal them—but he didn’t know which ones or how many would kill him. Perhaps he could throw himself into traffic. That would work…unless the vehicles swerved to avoid him or weren’t going fast enough for a lethal hit.

  Hell’s flames. He couldn’t even kill himself properly.

  The drone of an approaching engine called his attention. He looked up to see Tex’s car slow and pull into the driveway. Swallowing his bitterness, he stood and attempted to steel himself for the confrontation.

  Tex climbed out, and his gaze lit immediately on Jaeryth. “What the hell are you doing here?” the angel snarled as he strode toward him.

  Jaeryth shook his head. “Angels shouldn’t curse,” he said. “It’s not becoming.”

  “What?” Tex froze halfway across the yard. “There’s something wrong with you, friend. I’m a drummer. Remember?”

  “We have no time for these games.” Jaeryth moved forward, struggling to hold back the hatred that seethed in his gut. “I know what you are. And now, Logan knows what I am.”

  Tex narrowed his eyes. “Really. And what are you, exactly?”

  “Ask her. I’m sure she’ll have plenty of questions for you as well.” He glanced back, in case Logan decided to come out and greet Tex. The house remained silent. “We’re not that different, you and I,” he said. “We both know how important she is, and we both want to protect her.”

  “Yeah, right. Why don’t I believe you’ve been trying to protect her?”

  Jaeryth shrugged. “I can’t force you to believe otherwise. But I’ve done all I can, and now I must leave her in your hands.” Bile rose in his throat. He was surrendering to an angel. If he’d still been a demon, this would have gotten him severely punished—a week in the square, or maybe service on the trains. But that no longer mattered. Only Logan did. “Please keep her safe. They’ve already come for her once. She stopped them, but she must understand her abilities and be ready to use them again.” He could no longer meet Tex’s gaze. “You can convince her where I have failed. You’re her friend.”

  Something in the angel’s stern features softened. “Who are you?”

  “Logan will tell you.” He looked back once more at the door that would remain forever closed to him. “She’s told me to leave, so I am. I only want your promise that you’ll protect her. And then I’ll be on my way.”

  Tex offered a slow nod, and a look that might have been respect. “You have it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He couldn’t bear another moment of this. He’d said his piece and gotten the angel’s word. Now it was time to go. Without looking at Tex, he walked across the lawn toward the sidewalk and headed toward the slum where Logan had been attacked. There was too much familiarity in the other direction, and he didn’t wish to be reminded of what he’d lost.

  Behind him, he heard the door to the house open—and a wrenching sob drifted out before it closed again, a parting shot that cleaved his already broken heart.

  * * * * *

  Logan couldn’t even get off the couch when Tex came in, looking like he’d just seen a ghost. She dimly registered that she hadn’t locked the door, but she was crying too hard to care.

  Despite everything Jaeryth had confessed, she loved him. And that’s what hurt the most.

  Tex didn’t say a word. He sat down next to her, put an arm around her, and let her cry. It was the only thing he could have done that wouldn’t have made her feel worse. He’d always known exactly what she needed, almost like he could read her mind. Why hadn’t she listened to him this time?

  Eventually she ran out of tears. When her heaving subsided and she was left with nothing but the shakes, she straightened as best she could and swiped at her face. “Thanks for coming,” she said, her voice rasping from her throat.

  “Any time.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on now?”

  She sniffled and nodded. She hadn’t explained anything to him on the phone, just asked him to come over, right now. Her frantic tone must’ve convinced him. “Jaeryth—” She choked on his name, and had to take a deep breath so she wouldn’t start bawling all over again. “He told me some really crazy things. And…I think I believe him.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Well.” She hesitated. If Jaeryth had been lying, or insane, Tex would think she’d lost her mind. But she had to know, especially if Tex really was…not human. “He said he was a demon,” she admitted. “And that you’re an angel, and I’m a Prophet.”

  Tex stiffened. Just when she thought he’d deny it and send her back into believing she’d lost her mind, he said, “He shouldn’t have told you that much.”

  “So it’s true,” she whispered. Part of her was instantly furious with Tex. If he’d known this all along, he should’ve been the one to tell her, instead of the demon who’d been sent to destroy her. But she didn’t have enough strength left to be angry right now. “He claimed that he had to,” she said. “The black-eyed freaks, the Tempters, tried to kill me tonight.”

  “What?” Tex faced her, eyes wide with shock. “You’re already seeing them?”

  “I’ve been seeing them for the last week.” Her anger struggled to the surface. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d send me back to Grothman. Any normal person would’ve thought I was hallucinating. How could I have ever guessed that you’re an angel?” Even as the word left her lips, she realized she’d accepted it. All of it. It was the only possible explanation—but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “And did you happen to hear the part about them trying to kill me?”

  “Oh,
no. Logan, I’m so sorry.” He closed his eyes briefly. “If I thought for a minute that anything was wrong, I would’ve tried to explain things. I had no idea you were so close.”

  She frowned. “Close to what?”

  “Your awakening.” He stared off into the distance. “You already know too much. It isn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  “Tex, what the hell are you talking about?”

  Instead of answering, he said, “What, exactly, did Jaeryth say?”

  Though it was the last thing she wanted to remember, she repeated the conversation about Shade and Citadel, and how Mother Teresa and Charles Manson were Prophets. She managed to explain that Jaeryth had been made human, apparently by having his wings and tail cut off, and was sent to either ruin or kill her—whichever he could manage. And she mentioned that he’d saved her life. By the time she finished, she was in tears again.

  “My God,” Tex said. “He wasn’t lying. He really was trying to protect you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “He said that to you? When?”

  “He was outside the house when I got here.”

  It took a lot of willpower not to jump up and run to the door. She wanted desperately to believe he never intended to hurt her—but it just wasn’t true. He’d been the voice in her head, urging her into self-destruction, for years. And for God’s sake, he was a demon. Why would a demon ever have good intentions?

  She felt torn in two, and she didn’t see any way to put herself back together.

  “Is he still out there?” she finally said.

  A sympathetic look crossed Tex’s face. “I don’t think so,” he said. “He was walking away when I came in.”

  He’d actually left. She had no idea why that hurt so much. After all, she’d told him to get out. Screamed it at him. So this shouldn’t bother her, and she definitely wasn’t going to cry again. He’d betrayed her trust and she wanted him gone.

  And then she said, “Maybe we should go look for him.”

  “Logan.” Tex put a hand over hers. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he did the right thing by leaving.”

  Despite her best efforts, a few fresh tears escaped. “I guess so,” she said. “I’m just not sure I did the right thing, letting him go.”

  “You’ll get through this. I promise.”

  “Sure,” she whispered. Resolving to gain as much control as she could, she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I really have to wash my face,” she said. “Will you…stay with me for awhile?”

  Tex smiled. “Of course.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stood and made her way to the bathroom—and tried not to wish that when she got back, it would be Jaeryth waiting for her instead of Tex.

  Chapter 21

  Eventually, Jaeryth found his way back to the ruined house where they’d encountered the swarm of Tempters. Yellow police tape formed an X over the door, and of course, the human attacker was gone. Perhaps Logan had managed to save him after all. Or the police could have simply collected a body.

  With no other destination in mind, and lacking the energy to so much as make a decision, he shuffled toward the dilapidated structure, intending to find a place to sleep. The door appeared loose in its frame. He tried it, but it was firmly locked.

  Resigned to sleeping outdoors, he moved around the house and discovered a depression in the dirt ground along the foundation. At least he would be out of sight and somewhat sheltered. He lowered himself down, crooking an arm beneath his head for a pillow, and exhaustion soon claimed him.

  His own violent shivering woke him beneath a red-tainted dawn sky. At some point he’d curled into a fetal position, and his entire body was stiff and sore. He stretched out gingerly and managed to stand. The meager, uncomfortable sleep had made him less tired, but now hunger and thirst weakened him.

  He considered returning to Logan to beg her forgiveness. But she’d made it clear that he was no longer welcome—and his presence would only make her an easier target. Surely Ronwe, and perhaps even Samael, knew by now that he’d stopped the human from shooting her. He couldn’t go back.

  Instead, he headed deeper into the slums, past the point where Logan had decided they should turn back. The entire place seemed cold and lifeless. The few residents stirring at this hour remained indoors, and occasionally he caught a glimpse of a flickering television or a passing shadow behind curtained windows.

  As he walked, the surroundings shifted gradually from individual houses to duplexes and small apartment buildings, and he soon found himself in a business district of sorts. Shops lined both sides of the street, though most of them appeared closed. And at the end of the block, he discovered a diner.

  It wasn’t the same diner he and Logan had visited. This building was red-painted wood instead of chrome and glass, and it had a name—Rosie’s Eggs ’N More. There were signs of life here. Through the windows, he could see people seated in booths, enjoying their breakfasts. He watched a waitress pass by the glass door carrying a tray piled with plates of food. The sight of it made his mouth water.

  This was as good a place as any to stop and rest. There was a steel pole at the corner where the sidewalks joined. He sat at the base of it, in the patch of grass bordered by the cement paths, drew his knees up and crossed his arms over them. The sun had more or less risen, and some of the coldness had worn from the morning. Altogether not unpleasant.

  Several moments after he’d settled in, an older woman in jeans and a long blue coat exited the diner. He had seen her briefly through one of the windows, and she’d glanced in his direction. She carried a tall, lidded foam cup in one hand and something wrapped in a napkin in the other. And she was headed straight for him.

  Perhaps he’d done something wrong in sitting here. He certainly didn’t know the woman and he couldn’t imagine another reason for her to approach. Wishing to avoid a confrontation, he placed his hands on the ground to push himself up.

  The woman reached him before he could stand. “You look like you could use some breakfast.” She held out the cup and the napkin-wrapped bundle. “Here you go.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry. I have no money.”

  Confusion flashed across her face and she cocked her head, as though listening for something. Then she smiled and said, “Well, this is a gift. It doesn’t cost anything.”

  “A gift?”

  “That’s right.”

  He reached out slowly and accepted the items. The cup was warm against his hand, and the bundle was heavier than it appeared. “Thank you,” he said. The words seemed insufficient, but he could think of nothing else to say.

  “There’s cream and sugar in the coffee. I hope that’s okay.” Once again, she appeared to listen. She unzipped the small purse that hung at her side, produced a five-dollar bill and handed it to him. “Now you have money, too.”

  His brow furrowed. This was not typical behavior. Still, the woman had shown him kindness, and he would not be rude. “Thank you, again.” He strove to come up with a better expression of gratitude, and finally added, “Have a nice day.”

  Her smile returned. “You too,” she said, and walked away.

  He stared after her for a moment, until his snarling stomach demanded that he investigate the bundle. Inside the napkins, five sausage links rested atop two slices of buttered toast cut into triangles. He set the coffee aside and took a bite of sausage. His body reacted instantly, clamoring for more, and he devoured three of them almost without stopping for breath.

  Determined to savor the rest, he sat cross-legged and spread the napkins on his lap, a makeshift table where he laid out the food. He sipped at the sugar-laden coffee and nearly moaned in pleasure. Apparently, his human form had quite the sweet tooth.

  When he’d calmed the beast in his stomach, his thoughts returned to the woman and her odd behavior, and a terrible suspicion dawned on him—that she had been listening, to something not visible in the mortal plane. He concentrated on allow
ing his vision to see further. When his perceptions shifted, he let out a groan. “Not you again.”

  The round-faced Shepherd who had appeared to him at Logan’s house sat on the grass across from him, mirroring his position. “Now, demon,” it said. “Is that any way to greet your guardian?”

  “Guardian!” Abruptly he remembered that no one else could see or hear the Shepherd. At least there were no other humans around. He lowered his voice and said, “Get away from me, you meddling insect. I told you I don’t want your help.”

  “You’re not hungry? Well, then give me the food back.”

  He sighed. “Fine. Thank you. Now leave me alone, pest.”

  It grinned at him. “I am called Daan. Not insect or pest.”

  “And I am called go away.” Jaeryth started on a piece of toast in defiance of the Shepherd’s threat to take it back. “You angelic beings are such a pompous lot,” he muttered. “Tempters have no names.”

  Daan crossed its arms. “I am not pompous.”

  “You are annoying.”

  “At least I’m not cranky.”

  Jaeryth ignored it. He finished his food, down to the last crumb of bread, and stared at the grease-stained napkins. The anger that Daan’s appearance had invoked faded quickly, and fresh hopelessness filled him. Why had he bothered to eat? He was only prolonging the inevitable. Even if he managed to live, Samael would come for him—if not now, then once Logan manifested as a full Prophet. He refused to believe Ronwe would succeed in his mission. She was too powerful now, and she had Tex to protect her.

  But perhaps there was a way for Jaeryth to turn himself in after all. The woman from the diner had given him money. He could use it to return to Philadelphia, and there he could seek out Ronwe. The head demon would no doubt delight in contacting Samael and arranging for him to be delivered to Hell. And if he failed to find Ronwe, at least the city offered endless possibilities for death. Surely he could manage to destroy himself there.

  And it would keep him away from the temptation of Logan.