Free MySoultoSave by S W Vaughn Page B

be the miracle.
    After Logan had seen to the woman and procured something
called emergency assistance, she’d left the area. Now, after an uneventful bus
ride, she entered a Thrift Store—and he caught her intentions to spend quite
some time here shopping.
    Here was the opportunity he sought.
    He phased through the building, catching brief glimpses of
racks upon racks of clothing, and emerged behind the place. Thankfully, no
humans lurked in this alley. He summoned his concentration and shifted up, into
the perceptions of the mortal plane, and then beyond. Becoming fully material
required a good deal of effort, and sustaining the form would necessitate
vigilance. Demons could not take on flesh at a whim. It would weaken him for
hours afterward, leave him vulnerable. But he would expend the effort gladly
for her.
    Once he reached the desired state, the sensory inputs of the
flesh-bound body bombarded him. Sounds and smells sharpened, assailing his ears
and nostrils. His skin tightened and prickled in response to the chill in the
air. But his sight seemed to be affected oppositely, shortened and narrowed. He
could no longer perceive Shade or Citadel, or any indication that planes
outside this one existed.
    Disconcerting as it was for him, he knew it did not trouble
mortals in the least. They could not miss what they never knew was there.
    He allowed himself a few moments to adjust—pacing back and
forth, feeling the impact of his steps on solid ground and the movements of his
limbs restrained by the atmosphere. His clothing had manifested in the style of
a Tempter. Simple, unadorned black. That would have to change. After Logan’s
encounters with the lesser demons, this appearance might make her uneasy.
    Perhaps she would be pleased if he were dressed in a manner
similar to the mortals she preferred. The musicians. Recalling an example from
those she’d associated with in Philadelphia, he pictured a dark short-sleeved
shirt, a jacket with studs and chains, frayed denim pants, heavy boots. Willing
the clothing into existence was difficult in this state, but he managed.
    As a final touch, he added a bandanna, and a few chains on
the boots.
    Walking around the building to the front entrance took far
more time than phasing. He entered the store and nearly recoiled from the odd
smells that choked the air. Strong, sweet chemicals overlaid, but did not erase
the musty and moldering odor lurking beneath. The other humans inside had to be
experiencing the same scents, but it didn’t appear to bother them. So he
schooled the distaste from his features and sought Logan.
    He located her patiently flicking through a rack of clothing
that a sign indicated were Men’s Shirts. Interesting, when across the store
were rows labeled Women’s Shirts that obviously featured a wider selection.
    The thought of interacting this directly with her invoked a
primal pleasure that deepened as he approached. He stopped at the end of the
aisle she occupied and watched her, taking in the weary, but determined
motions, the haunted eyes, the lovely face drawn and sharpened by the trials of
the day. So shattered, not yet reformed. Perhaps never to be whole again. A
beautiful tragedy.
    As though she’d sensed him, she turned and met his gaze. Her
lips parted slightly. She did not move for a long moment. Finally, she frowned
and said, “Am I in your way or something?”
    You are my way. He smiled and drifted closer. “I was
admiring your taste in clothing.”
    A visible shudder went through her as he spoke. Her brow
furrowed, then smoothed out again slowly. “You mean the god-awful suit?” She
rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I’m not walking out of here wearing this thing. In
fact, I think I’ll donate it. Let somebody else have the joy of wearing it.”
Her gaze traveled down the length of him and back up. “Nice boots.”
    “Thank you.”
    Another shiver. “You…sound familiar. I know that’s a weird
thing to say.”
    “Not really.” It pleased