Dance Only For Me

by Megan Derr

  "What was in those bullets?" Firebrand demanded.

  "A whole lot of fuck you."

  Firebrand yanked his claws out—and screamed as his hand was grabbed and his arm yanked back with a sick crunching, cracking sound. Jackie slid down the wall to collapse on the floor, pressing a hand to his bloody shoulder.

  His vision started to swim, but he stubbornly held on, not liking his odds of surviving if he were to pass out. Firebrand vanished and Ned swore loudly, shaking his head. He crouched down in front of Jackie to regard him pensively. The rest of the world might have been a bit fuzzy 'bout the edges, but Jackie could see him clear as a summer day. Those autumn eyes… "Your name really Ned?"

  "Shut up," Ned replied. "You need healing, gunslinger. Firebrand is quite literally poisonous to the touch."

  Jackie made a face. "Runes in my jacket…" The world grayed out for a minute, but he hung on, if barely.

  Ned reached into his duster and after a bit of fumbling, pulled out the little bag of runes. Jackie managed to get it open after a bit of struggling. Reaching into the bag, he closed his fingers around the first rune they touched and pulled it out. He didn't bother to look at it, just held it tightly in his fist and willed it to work.

  He swore when it did, in fact, work, searing through him with all the kick of good moonshine and a jolt like the one that had taught a five year old him why it was best to heed his mama when she said not to stick forks in certain things.

  When it finally eased off and he felt about a dozen steps from death rather than two, he kissed the rune and dropped it back into the bag—only then noticing that it was the fire rune what had saved him. Snorting, he closed the bag and put it away.

  "You're a sorcerer, why are you using witch magic? Even they stopped using rune magic centuries ago."

  "What's good enough for mama is good enough for me," Jackie replied. "Mama didn't use it much, but like she always said: it'll do in a pinch. I'm not near as good as her side of the family, but I ain't killed myself yet. Definitely prefer to leave it to the witches, though."

  "You probably should, cause all that healing and you still look like shit."

  Jackie huffed a laugh. "Aw, I'm crushed. You said I was pretty."

  Emotions flickered across Ned's face: amusement, exasperation, something that almost looked like fondness. "Shut up. Let's get out of here before Firebrand comes back. I won't be able to drive him away again right now."

  Nodding, Jackie let Ned help him up. "Where's Phoenix?"

  Ned twisted to look over his shoulder then turned back. "He's checking on that idiot I tried to kill earlier and may still."

  "Don't kill him just yet, I need him to save an angel."

  "Whatever," Ned replied. "You're an idiot."

  "I ain't gonna argue the point. Thanks for saving my fool neck, anyway."

  Ned's expression softened for a moment before he seemed to shake himself and his face closed up once more. "I told you to stay out of it," he said irritably as they stumbled their way outside, followed shortly by Phoenix dragging an unconscious Barlett.

  Phoenix glared when he saw Ned. "What in the bloody—"

  "Calm down, vamp," Ned interrupted. "I'm not killing either of you. Mostly because you're doing a pretty damn good job of trying to kill yourselves." He reached out and grabbed both their wrists, and they all vanished.

  They reappeared inside Club Heaven, which troubled Jackie in a lot of ways. He scowled, annoyed by about twenty things all at once. "You shouldn’t be able to do that. Where the hell is my hat? Damn it, you know how costly it gets always replacing those things? And right as I’d broke that one in good." He broke off as he heard someone call his name, and looked over his shoulder to see Deacon walking toward him. Turning back to Ned he reached out, fisted a hand in Ned’s red t-shirt, and yanked him close. "I'm aiming to have a word with you, demon, hear? Don't be running off again, or when I find you a third time I'll make damn sure you stick."

  "Is that a tarheel joke?" Ned asked.

  "I leave those to Carolina. It ain't any sort of joke," Jackie said, giving him a good shake. "I mean it, demon. You stay put."

  Ned grunted and Jackie reluctantly let him go.

  "You look a little worse for wear," Deacon said. He flicked a glance at Ned, frowning. "I thought you went to find a sorcerer."

  "We did," Jackie said, nodding toward Barlett, still unconscious and being held up by an exhausted-looking Phoenix. "Where's Wyatt?"

  "Your apartment. He said that if I was going to watch things down here, he was more useful going back to his decoding, or something. It's been quiet since you left. Looks like you're the only one who ran into trouble. Anything else you need us to do?"

  Jackie nodded. "Hang around the club just a little longer? There's a dangerous fellow, that Firebrand I told you about, that might be coming around looking for my new demon pal here. Once the club closes, head on out, but I'd be much obliged if you'd stay until then."

  "Of course" Deacon replied. "Come find me if you need anything further." He turned away and walked back over to his companions, calling out orders as he went.

  Turning back to the others, Jackie took Barlett from Phoenix and said, "Let's get him upstairs." He hauled Barlett along, telling Phoenix where to go as he led them out of the room and through the back halls of the club. A few of the women and a couple of visitors gave them odd looks, but stayed well out of the way and did not speak to them, for which Jackie was grateful. He was ready to drop into bed and sleep for a week straight.

  Wyatt jumped up from the couch as they piled inside, eyes bugging when they landed on Ned. "That's—he's—"

  "I see you still have your puppy," Ned drawled.

  Jackie ignored him in favor of making sure everyone was inside before he locked and sealed the door. Shrugging out of his duster, he hung it up by the door. "How's the angel?" he asked, rolling his shoulders to ease up some of the tension, rubbing the back of his neck. His head ached more with every passing minute, but there just wasn't much to be done there that sleep wouldn't take care of better when he was finally able to lie down.

  "She's still fast asleep, but her color has improved. I think by tomorrow she'll be good as new."

  Jackie nodded. "Good." He crouched down beside Barlett as Phoenix finished laying him out and lightly slapped his cheeks until he jerked awake. "Howdy. You're lucky to be alive, you damned fool. Now get up. You're gonna cooperate, or else I'll let Ned have you."

  Barlett shot Ned a look that was clearly meant to be hostile but really only came off scared half to death. Ned grinned at him. Jackie shot him a warning look and was surprised when Ned snorted in amusement and backed off. Demons. Turning back to Barlett, he said, "Let's get you healed up. Bet everyone is hungry, too. Wyatt, go downstairs and rustle up some grub. Tell'em I'll pay for it all tomorrow."

  "Yes, Sheriff," Wyatt replied and bolted off.

  Sighing at the epithet, Jackie got Barlett on his feet and hauled him to the kitchen table. "Coffee?" he asked the room at large and made a full pot when he got a round of nods and affirmations. "How are you?" he asked Phoenix.

  "Sick of humans," Phoenix said. "Seeing all the trouble you cause, I am reminded why my kind chose to largely abandon magic." He turned to Ned. "Why are you not attempting to kill us? To kill Barlett at the very least when you were quite set upon the matter only a few hours ago."

  Ned shrugged. "I may yet, but for the moment the Sheriff here asked me to refrain."

  "I ain't no sheriff," Jackie said, "and you ain't killing anyone before I save that angel. I prefer you just leave off the killing entirely, but that's a conversation for later. Now sit down, demon, and stop your looming."

  Mouth curving, Ned made a show of settling into a chair at the kitchen table. Jackie tried not to stare, but with the crisis averted—for the present, anyway—that was getting harder and harder to manage. For one, the runes that covered Ned's skin were just plain fascinating. Wasn't a sorcerer alive who could resist that kind of spell
work, even if all they spelled out was plain, old-fashioned trouble.

  For two, Jackie wasn't blind, stupid, or dead. Matters were entirely too serious to be distracted, but it was hard not to notice Ned. Or be reminded of all the strength in that wiry little body.

  Shaking himself, he poured the coffee and handed the mugs around. He set his own near to hand on the counter he leaned against, letting his arms hang loose at his side, ready to grab a revolver on a moment. Leveling a gaze on Barlett he said, "You're going to free that angel."

  "Why do you care about it?"

  Jackie didn't punch him, but it was a near thing. "That angel isn't an 'it'. She's a being, an abnormal like the rest of us. You made her; you should have a hell of lot more respect."

  "Angels are tools. The minute I'm done with it, back to nothing it goes and no one will notice or care any more than they would if a broom or a screwdriver went missing." He scowled when everyone glared at him and focused on his coffee. "Not a one of you wants to admit it's true. Angels are what they are and trying to make them more doesn't change the base facts: they don't exist until we give them form and the world doesn't end if they return to nothing."

  "World won't end when you return to nothing, either, hoss," Jackie replied. "Don't mean there aren't folks that will be sad to see you go. If you care so little about the angel, then transfer her to me and be on your way. Anything else about the matter at hand you can tell us?"

  Barlett shrugged irritably. "I already told you what I know: I was hired to try to figure out how to bind him." He jabbed a finger in Ned's direction. "He's a demon rendered immune to binding and he doesn't want to share the secret. That's all I can tell you."

  Phoenix gestured impatiently. "Hardly. I think you should explain to us why those who hired you just attempted to kill you."

  "Because I found him and tried to kill him and destroyed all his work in the process," Ned answered before Barlett could. "They see him as too great a liability now. If I don't kill him, they will, you can be sure of that." He had the faintest hint of Georgia drawl in his voice, like he'd lost the accent long ago, but every now and again it showed in the crevices of his speech. He looked at Barlett, eyes cold. "If you want to stay alive, I suggest you be less stupid and more cooperative."

  "I have no interest in anything a demon has to say, especially a demon as dubious as you."

  If Ned were a cat, his fur would have been standing on end. Jackie pushed away from the counter, rested his left hand lightly on the butt of his revolver. "Simmer down now, hoss. Ain't no call for rudeness. He knows more about this situation than any of us; only a fool would dismiss what he's got to say."

  Barlett stood up. "Bah. I'm sick of the lot of you. I had a good, well-paying job that had the added bonus of teaching me incredible new magic. Now I've got nothing but two burned out homes and a useless angel. You want it? Then it's all yours. But the lot of you can leave me the hell alone."

  The wash of magic as Barlett handed over ownership of the angel hit Jackie like a blow to the gut. He sucked in a breath, biting back a few choice words as it resurrected all the pain in his head. He waited until it simmered down then said, "You don't want to go riding off, Barlett. Firebrand can't get to you here, unless he can ignore wards like Ned…" He glanced at Ned.

  Shaking his head, Ned replied, "He can muscle through some of them, but that sort of thing isn't his strength. He just waits for his prey to do something stupid. Which, given your behavior…" He looked at Barlett, "should be in about five more minutes."

  "Fuck you," Barlett said. He stood up and left the apartment, leaving silence and an exchange of disgusted looks behind him.

  Jackie sighed and picked up his coffee, grimacing that it had gone cold but drinking it anyway. He set the mug in the sink and left the kitchen. In his bedroom, the angel was already sitting up, no doubt stirred awake by Barlett's flippant transference. She blinked at him, eyes the blue of a robin's egg and faintly luminescent. "Howdy, ma'am."

  She blinked at him, pale lips turned down in a puzzled frown. "Hello, Master."

  "I ain't a master," Jackie said with a smile as he offered a hand. "Name's Jackson Black, but you can call me Jackie. It's an honor to meet you, angel. Barlett has given you into my care for now, but rest assured that if there's anywhere you'd rather be, we'll get you there straightaway."

  Her eyes widened at his words. "Master Barlett… I really don't belong to Master Barlett anymore? I thought I felt… but I was sure I was mistaken." Tears filled her eyes, but she impatiently wiped them away and met Jackie's gaze. "It's an honor to be in your service—"

  "You ain't in my service," Jackie cut in. "I was just trying to get you free of that bastard. You're free to do whatever you want, angel. That collar is a mark of honor, not slavery. How about we start with a name? Do you have one in mind?"

  The angel stared at his, eyes brimming with confusion and cautious hope. Finally, she said, "There's this song I used to listen to a lot whenever he left me alone in the house… the girl in it is named Emma. Could I have that name?"

  Jackie held out his hand again and smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Emma."

  She shook his hand and smiled back. "The pleasure is mine Mr. Black—Jackie. Thank you for freeing me from Barlett. I don't have experience with much, but I am a guardian angel."

  "One of the toughest I've seen, given you went toe to toe with Ned and lived to tell the tale," Jackie replied. "How are you feeling?"

  "Still a little tired, but otherwise fine. I—" Emma broke off and tensed, throwing back the covers as though to launch herself from the bed.

  Jackie twisted to see what she was staring at, but the prickling of his skin told him before he saw Ned looming in the doorway. "Stop causing trouble."

  Ned didn't say anything, just pushed away from the doorframe and stepped further into the room. When he reached the foot of the bed, he bent slightly at the waist. "My pardon for hurting you, angel. It was Barlett I wanted and I would have avoided causing you harm if I could have. I'm glad to see you're in better care now."

  She blinked at him then slowly relaxed. "Thank you, demon."

  Smiling, Ned rose to his full height, turned neatly on one heel, and walked out of the room. Jackie watched him go, sighing without really knowing why. He turned back to Emma and got her settled again. "Get some more rest and we'll get everything sorted in the morning. I'll make sure there's clean clothes and all for you."

  "Thank you," she said again and kissed his cheek. He sat there until she seemed settled, then headed back to the kitchen where Wyatt had returned with food aplenty.

  Wyatt thrust a plate with a sandwich, chips, and potato salad at him, and Jackie took it with a grunt of thanks. He sat down and made quick work of the food, pausing only to get another cup of coffee.

  "Where'd Barlett go?" Wyatt asked. "I'm not crazy, right, he was here? And what the hell is the demon doing here?"

  Ned snorted. "I have a name, you know. And it ain't something stupid like 'Firebrand'. Call me Ned, though 'my lord' will suffice as well, certainly."

  "You're not a demon lord," Wyatt said.

  Something flickered across Ned's face, but before Jackie could puzzle out just what he'd seen, it was replaced by a careful disinterest. "Are you always this bratty?" His mouth curved in mischievous lines. "Is that how the Sheriff likes it? Does he rough you up until you behave?"

  Jackie lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "Shut up, demon. You know damn good and well he ain't my lover. Stop making an ass of yourself." He put his dishes in the sink before walking over to stand in front of Ned, hands braced lightly on his hips just above his gun belt. "What are you playing at, being cooperative and doing as I ask? I may not know what's going on, but I know you got no qualms killing folks you think should be dead. My question is why."

  "Because some knowledge should be lost," Ned replied, eyes rippling with autumn color before settling on a deep, rich red. Jackie could feel the power pouring off him, could smell crisp fall air and warm apples
, crunching leaves and wood smoke. But it didn't leave him feeling respectfully cautious as he did with Sable Brennus, nor nauseous and wary as with Garrett Frye. All he felt was a strange ache clear down to his bones, an unnamed need that set his heart to pounding something fierce.

  And he must have been losing his damn fool head, 'cause he swore the same needs stared right at him from red-orange eyes. "What knowledge should be lost?" he asked, startled by the quiet huskiness of his own voice. "What's tearing you up, demon, 'cause I can see something is."

  "I can't be bound. I'm a free demon. Do you know the cost of that?" Jackie shook his head. Ned curled his fingers into Jackie's duster, tugged him closer. The scents of autumn and well-worn leather wrapped around him. "Exactly. I aim to keep it that way."

  "Killing creates more problems than it solves."

  "You don't know that. They're dead. Trust me when I say that if they duplicate me… and you don't know the cost."

  "Tell me."

  Ned shook his head. Before Jackie could press, he closed the last little bit of space between them and kissed Jackie quick, but hard enough to leave an impression on Jackie's lips. Pulling back slightly, Ned said, "Your energies really are pretty. Like light hitting glass and fracturing into a hundred colors. Never seen anything quite like it. Take care of yourself, gunslinger. It'd be a shame to find you dead."

  Before Jackie could draw a breath, he was standing alone in his kitchen, the taste of smoke and apples on his lips. He swore he could still feel Ned pressed up against him, and it was several minutes before his heart eased on down to a normal pace.

  He looked around the kitchen, only then realizing that Wyatt must have witnessed the strange interlude, but the kitchen was empty. Shaking himself, Jackie left the kitchen to find Wyatt and try to get his bearings back.