by S W Vaughn
“I’m staying.” He drew a trembling breath. “As I mentioned, you were right. I do love Logan. I’ve already sealed my fate…Kobol, I saved her life. Now I’m only waiting for Samael to claim me and carry out my sentence.”
Kobol stared at him. “Your sentence,” he echoed.
“Yes. I’m to spend eternity in Tartarus for failing to kill Logan. She is safe—I’ve ensured it would be so—and she could manifest at any moment. When she does, I will be collected.”
“So you’ve damned yourself for this mortal woman,” Kobol spat. “Does she realize this?”
“No. I had to reveal the truth to protect her, but I didn’t explain the terms of my failure. She threw me out, and rightly so.” A sudden realization wrenched his heart. “I never told her that I loved her,” he whispered.
Kobol grunted. “Well, do that,” he said. “At least it would get you out of this place.”
“I can’t. If I went back to her, she wouldn’t be safe.” Jaeryth lifted his gaze. “Kobol, would you…”
“Hell’s flames, Jaeryth. I’m in no mood to act as your messenger.” His mouth drew down in a scowl. “I’ve got work to do tonight. However, I’ll pay her a visit tomorrow, under one condition.”
“And that is?”
“You will leave this wretched place. Just until I’m finished. And then you can get back to needlessly punishing yourself.”
“Very well. Thank you, Kobol.” Jaeryth let out a breath. “You should return to work. I promise to go elsewhere.”
“Oh, no. The moment I leave, you’ll decide that it doesn’t matter if you stay here, since you’re doomed anyway. You’re coming with me, right now. And you’ll stay with your eager young Shepherd until I return.”
He groaned. “You drive a hard bargain, old friend.”
“Well, I am a demon.”
Despite himself, Jaeryth laughed and followed Kobol, his spirits lifted slightly with the idea that Logan would know he’d loved her. It was a small consolation—but like a flame in the dark, it would sustain him for a time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Logan managed to sleep in until almost eleven. But she woke with a stomach full of butterflies, generated by the promises of the day. First the concert. And then, Jaeryth. She refused to think about how hard it would be to find him. She would, and that was that.
Despite her worries, she couldn’t help feeling excited. She was going to perform for thousands tonight. How many people actually got to live their dreams? Even if the band went no further after the concert, she’d always have this experience. And it would be big enough to satisfy her for the rest of her life.
She showered and dressed, and was headed for the kitchen to start coffee when someone knocked at the door.
Mild concern rippled through her. Blue was picking her up at five so they’d have time to prepare for the show at seven, and Tex was supposed to be tied up at the venue all day. Of course, it wouldn’t be Jaeryth. Maybe it was a door-to-door salesman, though she hadn’t seen one of those in years.
She crossed the living room, twitched the curtain aside and peeked out. A tall, stern man in a long black coat stood on the porch, glaring at the door like it had insulted him. It wasn’t anyone she knew. But he looked official, and there were no Tempters hanging around. She should probably see what he wanted, at least.
Frowning, she engaged the security chain and opened the door to its limit. “Can I help you?” she said through the small gap.
He shifted his position to regard her with frigid hazel eyes. “Logan Frost.”
“That’s me.” Unfortunately, she was tempted to add. This man looked extremely unhappy. It dawned on her that he could be a cop—they must’ve gotten her number when she called 911 the other night.
“Let me in. I won’t speak with you through the door.”
Okay. That wasn’t cop-talk. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know what you want,” she said. “So you can stay on that side until I do.”
“I have a message for you.”
“And you are…what, from the post office? The mailbox is right there.”
“Open the door, woman.”
“No.” She slammed it shut and engaged the deadbolt. Definitely not a cop, or anyone else who needed to be here. Heart pounding, she started away to grab her phone from the bedroom.
And then she smelled smoke.
She turned slowly. Thick black clouds gathered on the inside of the door and coalesced into the stranger. She opened her mouth to scream, and the stranger said, “Jaeryth sent me.”
Every muscle in her body went limp. She staggered to the couch and sat down hard. “You’re a demon.”
“Of course I am.” The stranger waved a hand dismissively. “And you are a prophet, or so I’ve been told. I am Kobol. You are Logan. Now that we’ve finished the introductions, you will kindly refrain from screaming.”
She blinked at him. “Right. There’s a demon in my living room, but I’ll just stay calm,” she muttered. “I thought you were supposed to have wings and a tail, or something.”
“I don’t generally walk about in demon form. But if you’d prefer, I can do something demon-like. Perhaps we could bargain for your soul.”
“No, thanks.” Her throat had gone completely dry. She swallowed, but it didn’t help. “You said…that Jaeryth sent you.”
Kobol folded his arms. “He did. And I would not have agreed, but it was the only way to stop him from—” He broke off with a frustrated sound. “I’m not sure I should deliver his message. It may cause more damage than it’s worth.”
“You know where he is.” Her heart sped frantically, until she was convinced it would burst. “Please tell me. I have to find him.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But I—”
“Hold your tongue, mortal.” Kobol’s eyes flashed a deep, electric black, and then returned to hazel. “He’s already sacrificed enough to protect you. You will not endanger that by seeking him out.”
In a blink, anger suffused her body and replaced the confusing whirl of emotions. She shot to her feet and glared at the demon. “You know, I’m getting pretty sick of hearing that,” she said. “You tell me where he is or I…I’ll banish you!”
His features lit up with shock—and then he laughed. “Banish me, will you?” he said. “I’m afraid demons are a bit more complicated than Tempters. But I do admire your determination.”
“So you’ll tell me, then.”
The amusement fled from him. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the situation is…delicate.” He sighed and made a surprisingly elegant gesture in the air. “Sit down. Please.”
She lowered herself back onto the couch, suddenly afraid to hear what he’d come to say. “He’s okay, isn’t he? Please tell me nothing’s happened to him.”
Instead of answering, Kobol walked over to the chair. “May I?”
“Go for it.”
He sat down wearily, and for a long moment he remained silent. Just when Logan decided to prod him, he said, “Jaeryth can’t help what he’s done in the past. Demons have no choices. We obey, we do our jobs, or we’re punished.” His eyes closed, as if he was in pain. “Emotions confuse us. We’re told that we have none, that feelings are weaknesses visited on lesser beings—in other words, humans. So when we experience them, we’re unable to recognize what they mean. Or we mistake them for something else.”
“What are you trying to say?” she whispered.
“He loves you.”
The words kicked her square in the gut, leaving her breathless.
“He’s always loved you, from the moment he first saw you. But he was unable to even conceive of the idea that he could love—and so the feeling became an obsession. He tried to corrupt you, to bring you into the dark side, so that he could remain with you in the only way he knew how.”
She choked in a breath, and tears scalded her eyes. “I love him too.”
“I can see that.” Kobol smiled, but
the expression was tinged with sorrow. “That is the message Jaeryth charged me with delivering, but there is more you must know.”
“Wait. He asked you to tell me that he loves me?”
“Yes. He believes it will sustain him somehow.” A muscle jumped along Kobol’s jaw. “He saved your life, and confessed to you, knowing exactly what it would cost him. Samael set the price for his failure impossibly high—and he chose to pay it for you.”
“Samael?” She swiped at her face, but the tears kept coming.
“The Prince of Hell. Second only to Lucifer himself.” Kobol stared at the floor. “Because he failed to stop you, Jaeryth is to be taken to Tartarus. The hell inside Hell, where the worst of tortures are dealt to the most grievous of sinners.” He lifted a glittering gaze to her. “And there he will remain, for all of eternity.”
“No!” A rending sob escaped her, and she fought to keep from collapsing completely. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You have no say in the matter. His fate is sealed.”
“I’m a prophet. I’m supposed to save people’s souls,” she said. “I can save his, and then he won’t go to Hell.”
“Ah, you see, that’s the problem,” Kobol said. “Jaeryth’s body has been made mortal, but he has always been a demon. He has no soul to save.”
“There has to be something!” She gulped breath after ragged breath and her head started to spin. She’d pass out soon if she couldn’t calm down. “Hold on,” she said. “He isn’t in this Tartarus place right now, is he?”
Kobol shook his head. “Not yet. But he will be, once your powers manifest. That’s when Samael will come for him.”
The smallest bit of relief stole through her and she managed to breathe almost normally. “Okay. Then I won’t manifest my powers.”
“Really. You’ll spend the rest of your life fighting your natural inclinations and running from Tempters while they attempt to kill you.”
“If it’ll save Jaeryth, yes.”
“It will not save him!” As fast as he’d angered, Kobol backed down. “You must complete your awakening, or Jaeryth’s suffering will be in vain. And he will know it.” His shoulders lifted slightly. “Perhaps your miracle will save him somehow. Stranger things have happened.”
The expression on Kobol’s face said he didn’t believe his own words. But Logan had already made her decision, and it filled her with a hollow sort of peace. She just wouldn’t share it with anyone until it was too late to stop her.
“All right,” she said, hoping that she sounded firm enough. “Will you give Jaeryth a message for me, then?”
“Possibly. What is the message?”
“Tell him that I love him.” In spite of her newfound calm, a few stray tears traced her cheeks. “And that I want to see him, before…the end. Ask him to come to the concert tonight.”
Kobol’s lips firmed. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. He is staying away from you to keep you safe. He’ll be tempted to break his resolve.”
“Please, just tell him what I said. Let him decide for himself.”
After a long hesitation, Kobol huffed. “Very well.”
“Thank you.”
She saw him to the door and made her way back inside on shaking legs. Kobol and Tex and her fucking destiny could all take a long walk off a short pier. She wasn’t the only prophet in the world. And if there was a chance she could stop it, she wasn’t about to let Jaeryth be tortured forever—especially since he’d done all of this just to save her.
She’d throw the concert tonight. Sing so badly that no one would ever want to hear her again. And then she wouldn’t manifest.
Jaeryth had sacrificed everything for her. So she’d do the same for him.
* * * * *
Morning became afternoon, and then early evening, with no sign of Kobol.
“Well, Jaeryth? It’s your move.”
Daan sat across from him on the bed, with a game of checkers between them. Kobol had insisted that Jaeryth needed rest and food to recover from the thugs’ beating. He had somehow obtained a credit card to check him into this small roadside motel. Jaeryth hadn’t asked where the card had come from. He knew that Kobol had lived as a human for quite some time, for reasons he’d never explained. Likely the elder demon knew certain tricks that mortal authorities would frown upon.
He’d slept as long as possible, eaten all the food his stomach could hold and attempted to watch television for a while, but it had bored him. About an hour ago, Daan had discovered this game in the closet and had cheerfully insisted over Jaeryth’s protests that the rules were easy.
Jaeryth was skeptical about the Shepherd’s claim that the object of the game was to move the pieces around on the board until one player saw a picture in them and then make the other player guess what it was. But at the moment, he had nothing better to do.
“Jaeryth. Are you going to—”
“All right,” he growled, and pushed a black piece one square ahead.
Daan stared at the board for a moment and then pointed to a red piece. “This one, here,” it said, and tapped an empty square. Like Tempters and Shade, Shepherds couldn’t move entirely out of Citadel, and therefore could not physically affect things on the mortal plane.
Jaeryth sighed and moved the piece.
“I see something!” Daan grinned at him. “Go on, guess.”
“It’s a cloud.”
“You always say that.”
He made a perfunctory effort to look. However, just like the last seven times, he saw nothing but a jumble of round, plastic red and black discs. “I give up,” he said.
Daan pouted. “You always say that too. It’s a man fishing. See?” The Shepherd gestured along a diagonal line of red checkers. “This is his pole, and that black one is his hat. The fish is getting away.”
“I see.”
“You didn’t even look.”
“Mm-hm.” He turned to regard the clock on the table. It was a few minutes after five. “Damn it, Kobol should have returned by now,” he said. “What is taking so long?”
“I have no idea,” Daan said. “Perhaps we should start a new game while we wait.”
“Enough of this!” Jaeryth batted the flimsy board, sending it and the pieces flying across the room. A few of them passed through Daan, who flinched as though they’d struck it. “I can’t sit here idly and wait for some random human to shoot me, or whatever Samael has planned. I’m leaving.” He slid off the bed and headed for the door that opened onto the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” Daan called.
“I am going back where I belong,” he said. “I don’t care where you go.”
“Jaeryth—”
“Stop bothering me, insect.”
He was halfway across the room when Kobol phased inside through the door and crumpled to the ground.
“Kobol!” Jaeryth hurried over and knelt beside him. He tried to help the demon up, but his hands went right through him.
“Oh, good. You can see me.” Groaning, Kobol pulled himself into a seated position.
Jaeryth gasped aloud. Bruises and dribbling puncture wounds covered one entire side of Kobol’s face—as though he’d been hit full strength with a spiked club. Like the one Kyr carried.
Kobol waved a hand at the damage. “Superficial.” He chuckled, but a pained snarl cut the sound short and he curled an arm against his torso. “A rib or two,” he gasped. “Nothing serious.”
“Oh, Kobol.” Jaeryth’s eyes stung. “What happened?”
“I was…detained.” He winced and shifted his position. “One of the Tempters in Crystaltown reported recognizing you. Ronwe wanted to know where you were. I told him I had no idea, but he didn’t believe me. So Kyr helped me convince him.”
His stomach gave a sickening lurch. Kyr’s idea of convincing someone was to beat them until they couldn’t stand, and then beat them again. “You shouldn’t have saved me,” he said.
Kobol glared at him. “If I had the stren
gth to shift into your plane, I’d break your jaw. I did not go through all this just to hear your woe-is-me whining. Be grateful, damn you.”
He slumped in place. “I’m so sorry, old friend.”
“Why, Jaeryth.” Kobol’s lips twitched up, just a bit. “I never knew you cared.”
“Nor did I.” Unexpected pain welled in his heart. Here he’d thought there would be nothing more to lose—but he was losing a friend too. Some day he would make this up to Kobol. Even if he had to do it from Tartarus. “Can I do anything for you?”
“You can, actually.” Kobol lowered his arm slowly, and Jaeryth saw the blood that soaked his shirt. “Go and save your prophet.”
“What?” he rasped.
“Eventually, Ronwe decided it didn’t matter where you were. That’s why he let me go. He has some grand design for that concert of hers tonight. Every Tempter and demon in the city will be there.” He coughed, and blood bubbled from his lips. “You must stop him.”
“Oh, I will.” His hands clenched tight enough to dig his nails into his palms. “Will you be all right, Kobol?”
“Well, I am immortal.” He levered a grim smile. “And you are not any longer. Please keep that in mind tonight.”
He nodded. “I’ll save her,” he said. “You have my word.”
“She’s full of fire, Jaeryth. I can see why you love her.”
“Yes, she is.” He got to his feet and sent a fond glance down. “Goodbye, my friend.”
Kobol waved a hand. “Go on,” he said. “I believe I’ll stay here. This room is paid for the night, after all.”
Jaeryth looked over at the Shepherd, who’d remained seated nervously on the bed. Probably not wanting to get too close to a demon. “All right, Daan,” he said. “Get me to Festival Pier before seven and I’ll never call you insect again. I might even decide to like you.”
Daan perked up. “Are we going on a mission?”
“Yes.”
“How exciting! I know just where to begin.” The Shepherd stood and rushed toward the door—and then straight through it.
He sighed. “Daan! I can’t phase through things any more. Wait for me.”
Daan’s head pushed back inside, sporting a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Jaeryth.”