by S W Vaughn
“Death.”
Before the Shepherd could protest, Jaeryth strode away and let Crystaltown swallow him.
He did feel a bit guilty about leaving Daan behind. He’d grown accustomed to its presence, even grateful on occasion. But he could never escape what lay in store for him, even if he hadn’t been rushing to meet it. He had no soul. Therefore, Heaven itself could not reverse Samael’s claim on him—let alone a single Shepherd. Perhaps it was better for Daan that he’d left this way and spared the Shepherd witness to his demise.
The neighborhood was just as filthy and sinful as he remembered. Trash littered the sidewalks and overflowed from public wastebaskets, and graffiti adorned nearly every flat surface. Rats darted among the shadows of more than one alleyway. Defeat resided in the dulled gaze of every human he passed, from the handful lounging on the stoop of a squat brick tenement and passing a crack pipe among them with no apparent concern for discovery, to the gaunt and rag-clothed man in the boarded doorway of a small shop, obviously afflicted with some disease, who begged passersby for change.
Women in scant, tawdry clothing lingered on corners and near lampposts, beckoning to the men. One of them sauntered up to Jaeryth as he approached and looked him over with a fevered gaze. “You look lonely, baby.” Though she made an attempt to keep her lips still when she spoke, he caught a glimpse of her rotted, blackened teeth. “How ’bout a blow? For twenty bucks I’ll send you to heaven.”
He held back a laugh at her unintended irony. “No, thank you.”
“Psh.” She scowled, flapped a hand at him and turned away—and he saw the tiny infant, just a few months old, sleeping in a carrier strapped to her back. His stomach clenched. That child’s life was ruined before it had begun.
And in a very real way, he’d been the cause of it.
He moved on, feeling as though he’d been scraped hollow inside. Everywhere he turned, he encountered human suffering. A teenage boy seated on a curb, head cradled in his hands while a woman who was apparently his mother screamed obscenities at him from the doorway of a building behind him. Two girls, no more than twelve, made up like whores and shivering under a streetlight while a pimp glared at them from the shadows. An old man in a wheelchair, the pinned length of his pants denoting where his legs ended at the knees, loading a syringe with trembling hands. Flint-eyed youths with handguns stuffed into their waistbands, on the prowl for blood.
A crushing weight settled in Jaeryth’s chest. He walked quickly, blindly, until he reached an area that was devoid of humanity—and then collapsed to his knees with a grinding gasp.
He deserved eternity in Tartarus. He had condemned these people to a living hell on Earth, long before they would ever arrive in the real Hell and suffer yet again for sins they would not have committed, given the chance to escape.
Eventually he staggered to his feet and leaned against a light pole, attempting to regain his breath. He had to do something. Atonement was out of the question, but perhaps he could make some small difference before his end came.
No sooner had he stepped onto the sidewalk then a slight figure came barreling from a dark alley and collided with him, nearly knocking him down. The figure cried out and reeled back. It was a teenage girl, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, panting and holding the front of her torn shirt closed with one hand. A thin stream of blood ran from one nostril and her eyes were wild with fear.
Recognition slammed him like a bolt of lightning. Her name was Elizabeth, though everyone called her Liz. He’d corrupted this girl personally a few years back. She hadn’t gotten along with her parents—typical teenage angst—and he’d persuaded her to run away from home with her older, alcoholic boyfriend.
Her gaze locked with him. “Help me,” she rasped, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Please.”
He followed the glance. Four men emerged from the alley she’d escaped, all of them swaggering and heavily muscled. The apparent leader wore a shark’s grin as he located his target and his hard gaze shifted to Jaeryth. “Hey, man,” he called. “You found our toy. Thanks. How ’bout you back off now, a’ight? We’ll take her from here.” Rough laughter bounced among the thugs when he finished speaking.
The girl sobbed and stared at the sidewalk, obviously expecting him to comply.
Jaw clenched, Jaeryth shuttled her behind him. “Find another toy,” he said to the men. Without observing their response, he put an arm around the girl and began leading her away. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he murmured.
Rapid footsteps echoed behind him. The thugs would catch up soon.
Jaeryth bent toward her ear and whispered, “Can you run?”
She gave a vigorous nod.
“Stay with me. When I say go…” He lowered his arm and grabbed the girl’s hand. At least his experiences as a demon had given him a slight advantage—he knew every inch of this neighborhood, every shadow and hiding place. With a bit of luck, they could escape.
The footsteps ramped up to pounding speed. He squeezed once. “Go.”
He ran. And she stayed with him.
* * * * *
Thursday night practice ended on a jubilant note. There was a good possibility that in less than twenty-four hours, Ruined Soul would be a rising star in the music world, pinned on a rocket to success. It was a dream come true.
Logan only wished she felt better about it.
Without Jaeryth, the whole thing seemed like a dull victory. She’d given up hope that he would come back—and just about convinced herself to go out and find him. If she had a vehicle, she would’ve headed after him already, though she had no idea where to look.
After hugging Blue and Reid goodbye and promising to get plenty of rest for tomorrow, she and Tex got into his car. She hadn’t decided yet whether to confide her thoughts in him. If she said she wanted to find Jaeryth, he might offer to help. But he also might tell her to forget it.
She had no idea what angels could do, but she suspected he could probably stop her.
Traffic on the highway was light and they progressed steadily. After a few minutes, Tex said, “So what’s on your mind, Frost?”
“Nothing.” She sighed. “Everything. Jaeryth.”
Tex’s mouth tightened for an instant. “What about him?”
She hesitated, and finally decided to risk confessing. “I’m worried about him,” she said. “I want to find him. Just to make sure he’s okay.”
“Oh, great idea.” Tex snorted. “He’s probably long gone, you know. He could be anywhere. What are you going to do, file a missing demon report?”
“Thanks a lot.”
He deflated visibly. “I’m sorry,” he said in gentler tones. “It’s just…I don’t think you should run yourself ragged right now, especially trying to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. You’re too important to—”
“Maybe I don’t want to be important!” She closed her eyes and drew a calming breath. “I’m trying, Tex. This prophet stuff is a little overwhelming.”
“That’s why you’re not supposed to know about it. I told you, it doesn’t usually happen this way. Jaeryth shouldn’t have explained so much to you.”
She glared at him. “He saved my life,” she said. “I think that kind of makes up for it.”
“Maybe it does. But, Logan…he’s a demon.”
“Not anymore.”
Tex shook his head. “Only a prophet would try to help a demon.”
“Damn it, Tex. If you’re going to be this obstinate, you might as well pull over here and let me walk home.” It was a real effort not to scream. “And yes. I want to help him, if I can. I’m going to look for him—with or without your approval.”
“All right.” He slumped in the seat. “Will you listen to me, just for a minute?”
“If you’ll stop being an asshole.”
His fingers clenched on the steering wheel, and then relaxed. “Okay. I’m done.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded once. “I have to ask you something, a
nd I want you to think before you answer. I’m not trying to rub it in or imply anything.” After a pause, he said, “Have you seen any Tempters since Jaeryth left?”
She managed to resist snapping at him. “No, I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean he was leading them to me.”
“I know. That’s why I said I’m not implying anything.” Tex grimaced. “It probably wasn’t intentional. But it’d be much easier for the Tempters to find him than it is to find you—and I think that’s why he hasn’t come back. Being with him makes you an open target.”
“Oh God,” she whispered. “That means they’re after him now.”
“Maybe. I really don’t know.” He sent her a strange look, and said, “You love him, don’t you?”
She considered lying for all of two seconds. “Yes.”
“Well. That complicates things.” He drummed an anxious tattoo on the wheel. “Right now, it’s just too risky for you to be around him. Wait, hear me out,” he said when she started to interrupt. “But once you manifest, the Tempters won’t bother with you. Then you can find him and do whatever you want with him.”
“Great. So all I have to do is perform a miracle.”
He smiled. “I’m pretty sure you’ll do that tomorrow night. Transforming the souls of eight thousand people at once has to count.”
A lump formed in her throat. “You really think that’s going to happen?”
“I know it will.”
Part of her wanted to insist on looking for him now anyway. But Tex was right about at least one thing—she couldn’t afford to draw the attention of the Tempters. She’d never find Jaeryth if she was dead.
She’d wait until after the concert. And not a minute longer.
* * * * *
Jaeryth crouched with the shivering girl in the narrow space behind a Dumpster. His heart pounded in his ears and every breath drew a painful stitch in his sides. But the thugs had run past their hiding place five minutes ago, after he’d led her through every twist, turn and shortcut he could recall, and he thought they might have lost them for good.
He waited another five to be sure. By then, breathing was no longer agony and he’d heard nothing to indicate danger. “All right,” he said. “It’s safe now.”
She slithered out and he emerged after her into the dimly lit alley. He stiffened as a group of people passed in front of the corridor, but it wasn’t the men who’d chased them.
The girl drew a sharp breath and faced him. She drew her quivering lips into a smile. “They’re gone.”
“Yes.”
With a soft cry, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she said. “I thought I was a goner.”
He patted her back awkwardly. “You’re welcome.”
“I can’t believe we ditched them.” She drew away, twisted and peered through the entrance to the alley. The lines of her body went rigid and sorrow washed over her when she turned back. “Well. Guess I’d better go. It’s late.”
“I’ll walk you home,” he said. “In case they turn up again.”
“Um. Nah, it’s cool. I…uh, I’m staying with a friend. She might not be home yet, though, so I’ll probably just hang…somewhere else.”
Her hesitation and distinct discomfort told him she was lying, and somehow he understood that she had nowhere to go. Perhaps he could help her one last time. If he recalled correctly, her parents’ apartment was close by. “Go home, Elizabeth,” he said gently. “Your mother and father miss you. They’ll welcome you back.”
The girl’s mouth fell open. A single, fat tear ran down her cheek. “How…”
“Go home,” he repeated. “You’ll be all right.”
“I never told you my name.” Amazement colored her words. “Are you an angel?”
Harsh laughter escaped him before he could stop it. “No,” he said. “Just someone who wants to help you.”
She gave him a radiant smile. “You’re an angel to me,” she said. “And I’m going home.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”
He walked out of the alley with her and watched to make sure she headed in the right direction. When she turned the corner that would take her home, he withdrew and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. How many more of these people did he know by name, and how many lives had he destroyed?
“Hey, look. It’s the thief.”
The voice of the lead thug somehow failed to surprise him. At least the girl had gotten away. He opened his eyes and found the four of them blocking the mouth of the alley, an impenetrable wall.
Then his perception shifted without much effort—and the four became six. Two Tempters hovered behind the thugs, whispering their poison. As if these men needed persuading. If he’d still been in charge and caught them here, he would have punished them for wasting time.
“Nothing to say, huh?” The leader grinned at him. “Well, you said we should find a new toy. I think you’ll do.”
Hands grabbed his shirt and propelled him deeper into the alley. His back slammed against the Dumpster. The grip loosened and a fist drove into his stomach. He doubled over.
“So far, you ain’t much fun.” The leader grabbed his shoulder and banged him into the metal surface, then landed a blow in the same spot.
Jaeryth dropped to his knees as pain surged through him. Perhaps this would be his end. Though he didn’t relish the idea of being beaten to death, he would accept it.
But instead of striking again, the leader backed away with a sneer. “Get up, hero,” he said. “I wanna see you fight back. It’s no fun if you don’t.” He folded his arms and added, “I was lookin’ forward to banging that chick. Maybe I’ll bang you instead.”
“What in Hell’s name are you doing?”
The distorted words weren’t meant for mortal ears. Jaeryth looked beyond the thugs and found the alley a bit more crowded as the Tempters cowered before a great winged demon, who was turned away just enough so he couldn’t see the face. “Lazy creatures!” the demon thundered. “Go and find some real work to do. Corrupt a nun. These humans are already blacker than you.”
One of the Tempters vanished instantly. The other glanced at Jaeryth and his gaze narrowed in recognition before he faded to join his companion. If Ronwe didn’t know he was here before, he would now.
Or perhaps this demon was Ronwe, ridding himself of witnesses in order to bend the rules.
“I said get up.” The lead thug launched a kick that connected hard with his ribs.
Jaeryth curled over with a gasp. He had to stand, if only to see what the demon was doing. Grabbing at the Dumpster for support, he hauled his body upright as his limbs trembled with exertion.
The demon had assumed a mortal body and stood a short distance behind the thugs, looking more furious than his demon form had sounded. Jaeryth managed a smirk. “Hello, Kobol,” he said. “You handled that well.”
“The hell you . . .?” The leader turned to follow Jaeryth’s gaze. “Oh, you have a friend,” he said. “Just one? You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
He nearly collapsed again. They could see Kobol—he must have shifted fully into the mortal plane. And Jaeryth had no idea whether he’d done it to help or to harm.
“My friend and I have business to deal with.” Kobol stepped toward the nearest thug, who shrank back in fear. “I strongly suggest that you leave us to it.”
The leader snorted. “Somebody waste this asshole.”
One of the thugs pulled a knife and lunged.
Kobol moved too quickly to follow. In less than a minute, all four thugs collapsed with grunts and groans. “Leave us, while you still can,” Kobol snarled.
They cleared out with no further comments.
Once they were alone, Jaeryth watched his old friend with dull anticipation. Kobol was still a demon—and he’d interfered directly with humans. What he’d done was not quite forbidden, but it was severely frowned upon. Jaeryth could only assume that he’d acted with Ronwe’s blessing, that he had been sent to col
lect on Samael’s due. He couldn’t blame Kobol. It was his job.
The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why Kobol had stopped the humans. If anything, he should have encouraged them to continue.
Kobol made a disappointed sound. “I see you didn’t listen to me,” he said.
“No.” Jaeryth shrugged, and winced at the pain movement caused. “What can I say? You were right, Kobol. I never had a chance.” A shudder ripped through him. “Do what you must. I’ll understand.”
“Jaeryth.” A kind of horror washed over Kobol’s face. “You truly believe I’ve come here to destroy you?”
“You must have. You’ve broken the rules.”
“Yes I have, my foolish young friend.” Kobol started toward him. “Of my own accord. To save you.”
“Save…”
At once, Jaeryth’s legs decided to stop supporting him. He slid toward the ground—but Kobol grabbed him before he fell. “Come along, you poor, pathetic mortal,” he said in teasing tones, supporting him easily with an arm around his waist. “There is more danger here than what I sent away, and I didn’t risk damnation to watch you die in some filthy alley.”
Jaeryth moved along with him as best he could. “How did you find me?”
“Ah, yes. I meant to mention that.” Kobol’s brows drew together. “I was minding my own business, taking care of paperwork, when a Shepherd appeared in my office.”
“Daan,” he blurted.
“So you do know the cheeky little thing.”
“Unfortunately.”
Kobol chuckled. “Anyway, this Shepherd babbled on about someone I knew that needed intervention, and how it had failed as a guardian and would throw itself on my mercy, if only I would enter the dark place and retrieve you.” A smirk lifted his lips. “I promised your little friend that I would torture it later. I won’t, of course, but its reaction was amusing.”
“Daan is not my friend.” Some of the strength had returned to his body and he eased away to stand on his own. It took Kobol a moment to realize he’d stopped walking. “I appreciate your efforts,” Jaeryth said. “However, I intend to stay in Crystaltown.”
“Really, Jaeryth. You can’t—”