The Devil's Duet Chapter 12: The Devil's Due

The curtain is about to fall.

Roosevelt Hotel, Hollywood, CA, 2024

Maeve, Seraphina and I were just sitting to get our hair and makeup done in our hotel suite across the street from the legendary Chinese Theatre for tonight’s premiere of “El Dorado,” starring Tiffany Stone.

Just as I finished my hair and makeup, I was getting ready to get fitted into my dress when I felt a major shift in the energy of the room, I felt like I was in the ocean being pulled by a current. I found myself drawn to the suite’s door and then onwards to the hotel lobby.

In the lobby there was a mob of publicists, studio executives and reporters frantically buzzing about and yet through all of them, my consciousness was latched onto one figure in particular like a magnet finding its pair. A woman was elegantly draped in a black sheath dress with a black veil over her head. As I made my way over to her, I could feel a seeming sense of familiarity, a sense of familiar warmness radiating from her.

“Excuse me?” I asked tentatively as the figure turned and pulled back her veil.

I looked into her face to see Marie Claiborne who warned, “Time is of the essence for you are in danger, my child” she said gravely.

I gazed upon her face which was miraculously free of any wrinkles or signs of age, she looked frail but was seemingly ageless, her skin an impeccable craft of carved ebony.

Marie wrapped one frail hand around my arm and pulled me out of the fray into one of the hotel’s gothic hallways off the main lobby.

“Child,” Marie harshed with a voice shot through with concern, “The demon that haunts you will present himself to you tonight and you must be prepared to vanquish him once and for all.” She said passing me a velvet pouch with a bulky object in it.

Clutching the pouch, I asked Marie, “How?”

“Tonight is the Spring Equinox,” she explained, “It becomes easier to weaken and vanquish a demon on a night like this when their abilities are already naturally weakened,” Marie said as my mind raced.

As Marie placed the pouch in my hands, I felt its weight—more than just the dagger inside. The enormity of what I was about to face pressed into my chest, heavy and unrelenting. A twisting sensation gripped my stomach, a chaotic mixture of fear and readiness. I saw flashes of all the lives I’d taken, the years spent feeding, the faces of those I drained just to keep my own dreams alive. Shame washed over me, raw and unyielding, but beneath that shame, a fierce resolve sparked, igniting something primal and ancient within me. I couldn’t turn back. I’d come too far, given up too much. Lucian’s shadow had haunted me long enough.

I closed my hand around the dagger in the pouch, and for a moment, it felt like it burned against my skin, as if it already knew its purpose. His familiar presence seemed to whisper in my mind, his darkness wrapping around me, urging me to surrender, to walk away, to give in just one last time. But then I felt Marie’s steady gaze on me, grounding me, anchoring me. My spine straightened. This time, I wouldn’t be his puppet. Not anymore.

“I will do what I can to help,” Marie ensured, “But it is you who must plunge this dagger into the heart of the demon,” she said touching the velvet pouch. “This dagger has been blessed by a voodoo curse capable of severing the bond between the demon and his human host and releasing all souls that the demon has ownership over in this world.”

My heart started to pound the moment she mentioned the Spring Equinox. In all my lessons with Seraphina and Maeve, I already knew its power. Tonight, for once, the odds might finally lean in my favor. Adrenaline shot through my veins, a sharp mixture of fear and something close to exhilaration stabbed at my chest. I’d spent decades with Lucian’s shadow lurking in the corners of my mind, always the one at his mercy.

But tonight would be different. Tonight, he’d be the one weakened, the one vulnerable. I could see it—the three of us, Maeve and me, face-to-face with Lucian, the power shifted, my hand gripping the dagger as I drove it straight into his heart.

But then, beneath that thrill, an icy doubt crept in. Were Maeve and I really ready for this? Could we go through with it? The idea of breaking free from him, of finally severing his chains around our souls, was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. I forced myself to focus. This wasn’t just revenge; it was redemption. Tonight was about reclaiming our souls, about ending the power he held over me and everyone he’d hurt. The devil was about to get his due—and I’d make damn sure of it.

El Dorado Hotel, 8800 Sunset Blvd, West Hollywood, CA 2024

As our car pulled up to the El Dorado hotel, fittingly the site of the “El Dorado” after party, my nerves swelled with anticipation. Tiffany Stone’s car arrived ahead of mine, so while most of the photographers were busied with her arrival, Maeve, Seraphina and I were able to slip by almost unnoticed. But of course, once we hit the storied lobby of the hotel, Seraphina was mobbed by fans, which I will not lie, stung a bit. Sure, Seraphina and I were “legacy” names but it was a stark reminder of how much larger and longer a career Seraphina had than I. Although it also hit me how her longer career was merely a front to building up the fame, influence and cache needed to pull off a night like the one ahead of us. I felt the voodoo blade shift slightly in my purse, its presence at my side oddly comforting.

That moment of peace was shattered as I felt a dark pull, I turned in the crush of people in the lobby as my eyes fell upon Lucian with Jefferson at his side. Lucian approached me as if nothing ever happened between us, an odd silence that seemed to ignore our shared history all together. Jefferson also approached and gave me a warm hug and kiss before turning back to Lucian.

“Raven,” he said opening his arms, but as he leaned in to give me a hug, he seemed to catch himself and I even heard him sniff as if he caught a scent of something on me. Pushing me back, his eyes scanned me up and down as his eyes flicked to meet my gaze. As he did so, I saw Jefferson become extremely rigid as if he were hanging from a noose and struggling to breathe. Lucian met my gaze again as he seethed, “I want you to consider that if you have anything planned, I will liquefy his insides,” he warned adding, “I own his soul, as I do yours,” he reminded me ominously.

“Actually,” I said breaking the rising tension, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Oh?” He asked with a pleased purr as he released Jefferson.

“I realized you were right,” I confessed, “This tension is so destructive, and you were right, why am I denying my true purpose?” I asked making Lucian feel right at home.

“So, do we have a deal?” I asked standing my ground.

“What deal?” Lucian grumbled.

“Tiffany Stone for Me and Jefferson, together, famous forever, and this time no seeking for you, we get to just be, no strings,” I demanded.

“You could never,” Lucian said in disbelief, “You’d never give up Tiffany,” he said clearly overestimating the situation, “You’re too emotionally weak, you always have been, that pitiful sense of morality to which you clung to even as you killed to get what you wanted, You never changed and you never can, you’re still a killer,” he said trying to cut me as deep as possible.

As Lucian’s words cut through me—“You’re too emotionally weak… still a killer”—I felt the weight of his accusations settle into my chest, each word pressing down like a boulder. For a split second, doubt clawed its way in. Was he right? Could I ever really change, or was I still just that same girl, desperate and willing to do anything for a taste of the spotlight? The memories rushed in—faces I’d drained, lives I’d stolen—echoes of choices I couldn’t take back.

But then, a fierce resolve sparked inside me, smothering the doubts with its heat. No. This wasn’t about him, his power, or the chains he’d wrapped around me for decades. This was about me. About freedom. About finally tearing free from his hold, no matter what it cost. I straightened, meeting his gaze with a strength I didn’t even know I still had. Let him believe he knew me, that I was still his puppet. Let him underestimate me, dismiss me as weak. I’d play his game until the last possible moment, and then… then, I’d show him just how wrong he was.

As I moved into the main ballroom at the El Dorado, a room I had played in so many times, I felt history rest on my shoulders as I watched my future unfurl in front of me as I took the stage to introduce Tiffany.

The orchestra swelled playing an stirring orchestral arrangement of Tiffany’s song, “Requiem (Where Stars Fall).” The words of her song had a chilling resonance tonight,

No more encores, the stars have died,

The brilliance lost to a darker tide.

The sky we painted, a fleeting thrall,

Now only ghosts roam the halls.

No more callbacks, no bright reprise,

Only shadows beneath the skies.

The night remembers, the stars recall,

A place where dreams learned to fall.

As I stepped up to the microphone, I wrapped my fingers around its base, feeling the cool metal steadying me, even as a slight tremor rippled through my hand - this was a place where dreams learned to fall, I thought as my own lyrics held me captive in fear. I took a breath, smoothing my expression into one of calm assurance, though every muscle in my body felt tense, coiled tight like a wire about to snap.

I forced myself to hold my head high, reminding myself why I was here. The stage lights washed over me, blurring the faces in the crowd. But even through the haze, I could feel it—that familiar, chilling sensation of being watched, of Lucian’s eyes tracking my every move.

A quick glance confirmed it. His gaze was fixed on me, dark and unyielding from somewhere near the back. I could practically feel the weight of his stare drilling into my back, his silent threat hovering, a reminder of the hold he still believed he had. But I didn’t let my smile falter. I leaned into the microphone, channeling every ounce of resolve I had.

“As many of you may know, I practically grew up in his hotel so I was beyond honored to be asked to be a small part of this beautiful film,” I said, “And the opportunity to work with this incredibly talented actress who just knocked my socks off from the first moment I met her,” I said confessing, “I have been told I have a keen ability to spot talent, and when I first saw Tiffany I knew she would not just do this song justice, but she would bring it to life, so ladies and gentlemen, here is ‘We Came here to Forget,’”

Tiffany took the stage at a piano and began singing,

Flickering lights and the jukebox hum,

This place was never meant for anyone.

But here we gather, broken souls,

Hiding from the world, playing old rock ‘n roll.

The neon’s dim, but it shines just enough,

To light the faces we’ve forgotten to love.

We wear our scars like faded dreams,

In this place, nothing’s ever as it seems.

We came here to forget, to drown it all away,

In the smoke and the whiskey, we fade with the day.

The El Dorado's where the lost souls go,

We came here to forget, but we don’t let it show.

As the poignant final notes of “We Came here to Forget” wafted over the hushed silence of the ballroom audience, I could see Tiffany hold her breath, a silent moment forming around her as the wave of applause crashed upon her silent shore, her face a resplendent mixture of achievement and apprehension.

As the spotlight faded, Tiffany turned to face me standing just off stage, her face taking on a mask of anxiety. “How did I do?” Tiffany asked nervously, “Do you think that did the trick?” She asked.

I felt an oppressive darkness surrounding us as I told Tiffany, “I think that did the trick” in a hushed tone.

Before I knew it, Lucian’s coiled tail was practically wrapped around us as I felt his presence pierce the veil of peace in the backstage space.

“Tiffany,” he purred sliding up next to her, “I haven’t heard a voice and a talent that stellar since the first time I laid eyes on Raven here,” he said reaching out to stroke my face. As I recoiled in my soul, I let him do so, let him think himself comfortable, let him think he’s won, if all went as planned with Tiffany, Maeve and Seraphina it would be some of the last thoughts he ever had before I returned him to hell.

It was then that I felt the low rumble of thunder and I knew our opportunity was fast approaching. Maeve and Seraphina appeared in my eyeline as I made my move, touching Lucian’s arm with a careful intimacy, I said, “I’ve rented the Cordoba Suite, shall we return so that we might show Tiffany what true power and fame holds?”

Lucian grinned his toothy smile feeling all too comfortable, his prized songbird finally returning home to her cage to sing. Tiffany looked at him with a practiced ease and instead of offering him a face streaked with fear or anxiety she instead transmitted a measured willing look that we practiced ahead of tonight - Tiffany was clearly a studied and talented actress and this was a key test of her skills.

In truth, after gaining Tiffany’s trust during the filming of “El Dorado,” I at one point confessed to Tiffany the whole sordid deal of the pact, every messy, painful detail. To my surprise, Tiffany was game to help deal a blow to Lucian. I expressed that doing so might be potentially dangerous but Tiffany was dead set on putting herself into harms way to protect me. “Young girls are always calling me some kind of role model,” Tiffany told me that night choking on the word ‘role model’ as I thought What kind of role model would I be if I let a fellow woman and a superstar musician become the property of a man? And not just a man, a demon.

I was touched by her dedication and her promise and ultimately a sisterhood that I had only found in this industry thus far in Seraphina.

Together with Seraphina and Maeve, we crafted a plan that would see me leveraging Tiffany to lure Lucian to the Cordoba suite with Tiffany as bait where Maeve and Seraphina would subdue Lucian with a Veil of Binding, a spell designed to temporarily trap and weaken a demon, before I administered a final binding spell that would involve using my own blood to vanquish Lucian. The delivery of Marie’s blade was a welcome wrinkle into this plan as now I had something in my grasp that could ensure this plan would rid of us Lucian for good.

As I lead Tiffany through the familiar hallways of the El Dorado to the elevators that would lead up to the Cordoba Suite, Lucian trailed close behind clearly relishing this unexpected turn of events.

As we entered the suite, thunder rumbled and lighting crackled outside the suite’s windows leading out to the terrace. Lucian looked around the darkened suite, did he sense Maeve and Seraphina here? I wondered and feared.

I have a cloaking spell masking us, Seraphina whispered into my mind…He cannot see or sense us, until its time to strike that is, she reassured me as the storm outside surged.

Child, I heard Marie intone to me, voice merging with the others, I will strike at him when the time is ready.

“Now, Lucian said leading us to the bed, “Tiffany, you may know a taste of fame, but you don’t know the full power of what awaits,” he said menacingly. Tiffany played along forming a mask of paralyzed fear right down to a single tear beading at the corner of her eye that rolled delicately down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, child,” Lucian said wiping the tear away as another fell. Looking at me, I leaned into her face and sensually licked the tears as they rolled down her cheek fully committing to the role. “You’re doing perfect, just stay still,” I said brushing her hair.

“Now,” Lucian commanded, “Taste her for me so that I may feast on this soul.”

Now, Raven, Marie said urgently into my mind as I moved my mouth into position to feed. As I did, the windowed doors to the terrace flung open with hurricane force winds as Lucian looked on frightened by the powerful show of force as the wind and pummeling rain anchored by cracks of thunder and lightning broke through the doors of the suite surprising even Lucian. Marie’s black silhouette floated into the room as if she were riding the winds towards Lucian looking like a slice of night cut into the room as she pulled back her veil declaring with a force imbued with power and ferocity

“Unhand them, demon, these children are under my protection,” she said holding out one quivering hand in defiance as Lucian froze in place and for the first time ever, I saw a look flash across his face, fear perhaps? Marie’s hands trembled, but her voice was unwavering as she called upon the storm. Each word seemed to drain the life from her, yet she stood defiant, her spirit radiating a fierce and undying power.

“I have seen you since her birth,” Marie shouted, “I have seen this night and been preparing for this for 68 years,” Marie said, her voice quaking with an almost unworldly strength as Lucian stood frozen and paralyzed by her hand. As Lucian’s mocking sneer faltered, a fierce resolve burned within me. I would not let him hold my fate—or the fate of those I loved—any longer.

“That may be, witch,” Lucian sneered, “You may look out for her, but I own her,” he said before breaking Marie’s hold as she collapsed onto the floor before he turned his gaze on me and I became frozen with pain like shards of glass pressing through my bones and skin as I began to crumple with pain. Even as the glass shards of pain seemed to pierce every nerve, I closed my eyes, focusing what was left of my strength on the curse encircling Lucian. I could feel the storm feeding off my anger and desperation, intensifying with each beat of my heart.
As I twisted in pain, the air around Lucian began to shimmer as Maeve and Seraphina came into focus like a blurry photograph becoming clear.

“Enough!” Maeve cried as she thrust her hands towards Lucian. As she did so Lucian slid across the floor of the suite to the terrace. Marie pulled herself up from the floor and moved towards the terrace. Marie’s hands shook slightly as she raised them, but her voice cut through the roaring wind like a blade, unwavering and sharp. Marie locked her gaze upon Lucian and summoned a voodoo curse chanting,

“Ogoun Feraille, spirit of fire and iron, I call upon your strength,

By the power of storm and lightning, shield us from the dark.

Trap this beast within your thunder, bind it with your iron mark.

The storm took on a life of its own, a pulsing, thrumming creature circling the El Dorado. Lightning forked down with a deafening crack, striking at the hotel’s imposing tower as if the sky itself had joined our battle, each strike caging Lucian tighter within a prison of fire and fury.

As Marie chanted, Lucian’s confident sneer faltered. His body tensed, and his once-calm expression twisted into a mask of surprise, then fear, as arcs of lightning surrounded him. For the first time, he looked like a trapped animal, caught in the storm’s relentless power. Lucian’s calm composure shattered as he thrashed against the unseen bonds. His voice, usually so smooth and calculated, became ragged, desperate, a growl on the edge of panic.

Seraphina raised her hands to Lucian speaking her incantation of the Ballad of Fallen Stars to hold Lucian at bay:

By the Lizard King’s fire and T. Rex’s roar,

I summon spirits from fame’s lost shore.

Jim, the poet, Marc, the boy of this age,

Step through the veil, unleash your rage.

By the songs you sang and the dreams you gave,

Rise now from beyond the grave.

Lucian stole what was yours by right,

Now take your revenge in this cursed night.

By stardust’s flare and rock’s eternal sting,

Lizard King, strike—let your fury sing.

Marc, with your rhythm, your cosmic flame,

Restrain this demon who stole your name.

By the stars above and the music below,

Chain him in shadows; let his power not grow.

As Seraphina did so, the sound of distant guitars roiled as two figures started to rise through the floor of the Cordoba Suite itself and I watched in awe as Jim Morrison and Marc Bolan rose, their bodies shimmery reflections of their former selves, together they reached out to Lucian, placing their hands on him and as their hands touched him, Lucian cried out in a roar I can only describe as pain as the lightning ravaged Lucian.

Even in my woozy state as I still recovered from Lucian’s attack, I could hear Maeve calling out my name, “Raven!” Maeve cried, “Now!” All I remember is Tiffany helping me to my feet as I tried to regain my composure. I saw Lucian contorting and twisting in the flurry of lightning as Marc and Jim held him in place while I heard and smelled his suit singing as his clothes melted away showing his shimmery, scaly skin beneath. I heard a low guttural groan and wail like the sound of a boar caught in a bear trap emanating from deep in his throat that sounded like what the soundscape of Hell must sound like.

Seeing me approach with the dagger firmly gripped in my palm, Lucian gathered some surge of energy and was able to momentarily break the bond of the lighting as he lunged at me. I froze and slammed my eyes shut fearing his wrath but after a moment I opened my eyes to see him frozen in space in front of me as Maeve and Marie stood sentinel beside me while Jim and Marc held their hands out towards Lucian as if holding him back by some otherworldly force.

I could tell they were all holding him back and exerting a ton of energy doing so. Jim and Marc began to fade away while Maeve began to look pained and collapsed, as she did so, Marie faltered and suddenly Lucian was able to reexert his force as he lunged towards me. I held the dagger out in front of me nervously and held my breath until I felt the dagger plunge through his skin, as the blade came to rest on the hilt, I did something I learned watching oyster shuckers in New Orleans which was that once the knife was all the way in, you rotate your hand just to get that last pop to finish the job. So once I felt the blade rest, I turned as I saw Lucian’s eyes drain and shrivel like raisins as his skin turned to ashen papier-mâché that began to crumble into dust. As Lucian’s form shriveled and crumbled to dust, I felt not triumph but an overwhelming sense of release. I had reclaimed my soul from his grasp, and for the first time, I was truly free.

The suite was filled with an ear piercing shriek and I felt a warm feeling begin in my ankles that moved up through my body like dipping into a hot spring ankles first. I went out to the terrace of the suite and saw that the storm overhead was beginning to clear. As I did, I saw shimmery lights emanating from the windows of the El Dorado and the surrounding buildings as far as the eye could see and as they were ejected into the night sky they headed skyward like a fireworks show. I turned back to the suite and saw Maeve laying on the floor as a shimmering light emerged from her chest and headed skyward through the open doors.

As I returned to the suite, I made my way to Marie’s side, gripping her hand and sliding a pillow under her head, she grabbed my hand tightly pulling me closer.

“I’ve done my job, child,” she said solemnly with the resolve of someone who was giving up. “No, Marie,” I pleaded pulling her close to my chest, “You can’t.”

“I already have, child,” she told me, “I was here to bring you into this world and to protect your soul and I have, it’s time for me to rest now,” she said as she laid back. As she did, I saw her skin wrinkle as if decades of aging had suddenly reclaimed her skin as its own. Marie’s breathing grew faint as I felt her drift away and her hand became cold to the touch, her body becoming an empty vessel but one that carried so much love in its short but important life.
“Rest, my child,” Marie whispered, her voice like a lullaby as she slipped away. She had given her life to protect mine, and as she drifted, I held her close, promising myself I would honor her sacrifice.

Next I moved to Maeve who was just starting to open her eyes, “Did we do it?” she asked me blearily.

“We did,” I assured her, “We got that Final Act, no encore,” I said as she smiled.

Seraphina stood over me giving me a helping hand to stand. As sunrise crested the horizon over the LA Basin, Seraphina said, “You did it, you’re free. So,” she said imitating a reporter, “What’s next for Raven St. Clair?”

“Right now?” I asked smiling and taking in the sunrise and all the promise it offered, “Honestly, rest…”

The Aerie, Malibu, CA 2024

The dagger still felt cold in my hand, as if Lucian’s shadow lingered in its metal. Sitting on the edge of my bed at sunrise, I ran my fingers over its hilt one last time before placing it in the velvet-lined box Maeve and Seraphina had given me. “A reminder,” she’d said gifting it to me with a wry smile. But I wasn’t sure if it was a reminder of what I’d done—or of what I’d survived.

I snapped the lid shut, sealing away not just the blade but the weight of all the lives I’d spent under his control. For the first time in decades, my reflection in the mirror looked like my own. I locked the box away in the sanctum hoping that burying Lucian under the house would make it easier to move on But moving on didn’t feel like the light, clean slate I’d imagined. Instead, I felt… hollow. The silence he left behind was almost worse than his presence.

As I joined Maeve on the terrace looking out over the ocean, Maeve passed me a mug of water she warmed into chicory tea as the lovely scents reminded me of my grandmother’s house again.

“My favorite,” I whispered to Maeve.

“I know how much it gives you good memories of home,” Maeve said.

“Speaking of,” I broached, “It’s time to go home now, I think.”

Maeve and I clasped hands, we were more than a coven, more than just old friends, we were sisters — we always had been.

El Dorado Hotel, West Hollywood, CA, 2024
It’s been nearly a month since that fateful night at the El Dorado premiere party but I’ve found myself back here at the Patio Restaurant at the El Dorado revisiting the scene of the crime I guess you could say.

For decades, I thought I could only be Raven St. Clair if he pulled the strings. But standing there on that terrace, with the storm clearing, I realized that I had never been freer. Now, the hardest part was telling the world that story.

I took my seat and pulled out my laptop and opened the file on my desktop that has haunted me for months now - just as I do so as if on cue, my phone rings - my editor, Evelyn Vance. I put in my earbud and tap answer.

“Rave,” she says with a signature rasp in her voice.

“It’s done Ev,” I said, “Retirement announcement is out,” I say as the weight falls from my chest.

“Congrats, darling,” Evelyn says before changing the subject, “Must feel amazing. And now you have plenty of time to work on that book. Which, speaking of, how’s it coming?”

“Terribly,” I confess. “I’m dead stuck,” I say. “I’m still on page one staring at that fucking blinking cursor taunting me. I don’t even know where to start,” I say plainly just laying it out.

"Look, sugar," Evelyn says, her voice softening, "When the publishing house wanted to do a book with you, they were hoping for a tell-all. The real story, warts and all. But you have this... unique approach."

I sigh, swirling the coffee in my mug. "I know, Ev. It's just... there are things I'm not ready to expose. How do you write a life like this?”

"I understand," Evelyn says gently. "But Raven, the world thinks they know you. The rebellious rock star, the queen of the comeback. But I have a feeling there's a truth hidden beneath the surface, a truth that only you can tell."

Her words ache with a painful honesty. She's right. There's a deeper story here, one that goes beyond the headlines and the carefully crafted image. A story of ambition, sacrifice, and the price of fame. A story that's both terrifying and liberating.

"I know," I said quietly. "It's just... where do I even begin?”

"Start at the beginning," Evelyn says with a warm chuckle. "Tell me about the little girl who dreamed of singing on stage. Tell me about the New Orleans streets that echoed with your first songs. Tell me about the moment you realized you were willing to do anything to make those dreams come true.”

Emboldened by Evelyn’s words, I began typing into my laptop and the story came rushing out tumbling out of my memory with a furious intensity.

So, this was my story, the one you just read. I wrote about the pact, the price I paid, and the consequences that followed.

I wrote about the blood, the betrayal, and the broken promises.

I wrote about the music, the magic, and the madness.

I wrote about the Devil's Duet.

The End

Epilogue/Rosebud

Malibu, CA, 2024

Following the fateful night at the El Dorado Hotel and everything after, I recorded a duet with Seraphina, “The Devil’s Duet” for my Greatest Hits album, Legacy: Greatest Hits 1972-2024, which would officially close out not only my record contract but my career before finally being able to happily transition into retirement.

Raven St. Clair & Seraphina Jones - The Devil’s Duet

I rented a small bungalow near the beach in Malibu not far from The Aerie and also near a small bungalow that Maeve rented that she lived in peacefully until her death a few months ago. I would learn later that Maeve actually had a terminal disease when she came to visit me at Horizons and that her invitation for us to take down Lucian was a sort of bid for redemption. I was happy to help her get that peace she so desperately wanted and needed and in turn I was able to gain some redemption of my own. Maeve had come into my life like a fierce storm, and even as her own light faded, she’d made sure I would find mine.

And, as I quickly learned, with this new life, came new discoveries as my body began to age, but not just age, age rapidly. I could feel the years I’d borrowed returning to the earth, each day a quiet reminder that I’d traded eternity for this fleeting, beautiful peace.

“There’s nothing we can do,” from the doctor hit me like a thud. Instead of fighting it, I resigned myself to enjoying every last day I had left. My last day on Earth began with watching the sunrise at dawn over the Pacific -and instead of watching the sun rise, I felt it rise, its gravitational pull tugging at my soul as its rays warmed my face. Seraphina came in the mid afternoon to bring some gifts like a new blanket and a completely unexpected gift…Jefferson.

After we had tea, I suddenly began to feel weak, Jefferson offered to help me to bed but pulling him close and burying my head in his chest I said, “will you take me to the deck like we used to?”

Jefferson happily did as I asked. Throwing a blanket over me and curling up next to me, I felt something I hadn’t in some time, an intense wave of happiness and peace. I could feel what was coming, and I wasn’t afraid anymore not here, not now with Jefferson by my side.

“Hey,” he said, “You know that you saved me, right?”

“I think you have that the other way around,” I corrected him.

“No, I’m serious,” he protested, “Lucian, the path I was on, all of that…” he said as I hushed him.

For being on both sides of the line, I realized in this moment that the line was just an illusion it wasn’t about life and death it was about embracing life while living and things that live on beyond death, beyond limitation and beyond even us. Our lives were so fleeting and so delicate that to create a song, a lyric anything that could cross over into being something timeless was the ultimate gift, not fame, eternal life or power, but understanding and here I was at peace with mine. I finally got it now.

“Hey, before you go to sleep,” Jefferson whispered, “Let me sing you a song, it’s an oldie but a goodie. You know, I wrote this song when we met,” Jefferson said softly, his voice catching. “It’s taken me a while but I finally realized its about chasing something you think you’ll never have and realizing it’s been with you all along.” he said as I smiled and chuckled and he began to sing as I drifted off to sleep for one last time…each note wrapping around me like a memory, sweet and ephemeral, a reminder of everything I’d chased and, finally, everything I’d found. His voice held that familiar warmth, a balm against the chill creeping into my bones, a final lullaby for my weary soul,

But rosebuds they pierce

The petals fall

a fleeting beauty holding on,

a taste of power

a bitter sting

the price of freedom

and the song I sing,

Rosebud, the symbol of desire

Blooming in the shadows, fueled by fire

A secret pact, a hidden vow

To chase the starlight here and now

Rosebud, the symbol of desire

Blooming in the shadows, fueled by fire