“Max,” I whisper frantically, pressing my hand onto his thigh, trying to keep him grounded. “It’s her. It’s her.”
I don’t even know if he’s breathing. He’s frozen, mouth agape in horror.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” the demon lady says, her voice rich, normal, looking over the crowd, smiling at them. “I’d like to start with a special song. This is called the Song for the Dead. And it’s dedicated to our own dead man walking, Mr. Maximus Jacobs.”
Her gaze comes to our table and she holds her hand out toward him in gesture. Everyone in the bar turns in their seat to look at us, and if they notice the flames in Max’s eyes, they don’t seem to care. They smile and nod at us and then look back at the demon singer.
She smiles right at me.
Winks.
And then bluesy music starts to play from nowhere, the low hit of a double bass, the sinewy call of a sax. She gives the crowd a big smile, really a show of teeth.
Demon teeth.
“It’s late enough to go driving,” she starts to sing, holding the mic with both hands and crooning into it, “and see what’s mine. That’s a study of dying, how to do it right.”
“Max,” I say, louder now, trying to break the spell the woman has me in. She definitely has Max in her thrall. In fact, I think she has the whole place in the palm of her hand.
“Max, please.” I put my hand on his and he’s not snapping out of it. It feels like my energy is hitting a wall and bouncing right back into me.
Then I go against his wishes and lift my fingers, ready to place it at his temple. He’s not blinking, I’m afraid the flames might spread from his eyes and take over his whole face, burn him up, take him right back to Hell.
My fingers hover above his skin, afraid to take the plunge, and already I can feel the darkness licking my skin like fire, just a taste at what’s going on inside him.
The dark.
So much dark.
So much emptiness that I think I might die from it.
And I’m not even touching him.
“Max, I don’t want to,” I whisper…
I close my eyes.
My fingers coming closer to the pain.
CRASH.
Suddenly the sound of breaking glass fills the air.
It’s so loud it seems to ricochet inside my brain.
I jerk my hand away from his head and even he stirs, turning his head enough to meet my eyes.
The flames still dance, but he’s there now. He’s back. In control.
Looking at me with an expression I can’t read.
Then he keeps turning his head to look behind him, in the direction of the broken glass.
I turn my head too.
There’s a woman standing there behind us, a tray in her hands, broken glass shattered at her feet.
She’s pale, blonde, hair pulled back in a low bun, wearing jeans and a tube top, staring at Max like she’s just seen a ghost.
Her mouth drops open, closes. Opens again.
“Max!?” she exclaims, voice trembling.
Looks like we found Rose.
Sixteen
“Time wounds all the heals as we fade out of view.”
– I Sat By the Ocean
Rose stares at Max.
Max stares at Rose.
I look back at the stage to keep an eye on our demon singer.
But she’s gone.
There’s no one there at all. The music has changed, coming from the speakers, and off the stage I can see a group of four musicians sorting out their instruments.
I look back at Max, the flames fading away.
Now he’s blinking at Rose.
Oh god, I already feel like I shouldn’t be here, like this is too intimate for me to witness. Why did he bring me here again?
Oh yeah. He doesn’t have a choice.
“Rose?” our waitress says to her. “Are you okay?”
The waitress looks over her shoulder at us for an explanation, and Max finally gets up to his feet, towering over everyone.
“I’m sorry,” he says to the waitress. “I’m an old friend she hasn’t seen in a long time. Think I gave her a scare.”
He then meets Rose’s eyes and gives her a faint, somewhat hopeful smile.
But Rose can only shake her head, unable to comprehend. Can’t say I blame her. Perhaps it would have been better to call first.
“I see,” the waitress says. She puts her hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you go and talk to your friend? I’ll clean up this mess. The office is empty if you need, you know, privacy.”
The waitress gives us another odd, slightly protective look. I smile to try and ease her mind.
Rose just nods dumbly, still staring at Max with wide eyes.
It’s then that I notice her left hand.
A big ass fucking diamond ring on it.
Oh shit.
So that’s real.
I’m not sure if Max has noticed yet.
Then again, both of them are locked in some sort of standstill.
Okay, someone has to take charge, or this staring contest will continue for the rest of the night.
“Hi,” I say to Rose, approaching her. “My name is Ada. Max has told me a lot about you. How about we go to your office so we can get all caught-up? I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
Rose blinks at me, swallowing hard. But then she nods.
I reach out and put my hand at her elbow, turning her toward the back of the bar where it seems the employees would go, guiding her there. I glance at Max over my shoulder, jerking my head for him to follow.
We reach the office and step inside. It’s small, just a desk, two chairs, and a bunch of cleaning supplies and filing cabinets.
All three of us step inside and I close the door, leaving it open a crack so that Rose doesn’t think we’re about to rob her or something like that.
“Max,” Rose says, taking a step toward him. “How can this be?”
She reaches out to touch him,
