He Googled the Four Horsemen and soon found an email address for Ike Ligon. It was a long shot that his email would reach the lead singer and not some assistant, but the only other way to reach Ike—through Lucifer—was not an option.
All the other songs submitted to the prom lyrics contest would be vetted by Luc. Cam knew the Four Horsemen wouldn’t judge a thing, and that, as of yesterday, Lilith wasn’t planning on submitting a song. She was more talented than everyone in Crossroads put together, and Cam wanted her favorite singer to hear her music—without being swayed by the devil.
He settled into his chair, and into Lilith’s voice, as he crafted an email on his phone.
Dear Mr. Ligon,
I hope you don’t mind me reaching out directly, but your songs have always inspired me, so I wanted to share one of mine with you. I can’t wait to see you perform when you visit Crossroads. My bio and lyrics for the Battle of the Bands competition are attached. Thanks for everything.
The black journal sat on Cam’s lap, but he found he didn’t need to open it. He typed out the lyrics of his favorite, “Somebody’s Other Blues,” from memory:
I dreamed life was a dream
Someone was having in my eyes
I was outside looking in
And all I saw was lies
It’s not my life, it’s not my life
I’m not the one not having fun
Cam typing out the rest of the lyrics, impressed by the power of Lilith’s songwriting. The bio was trickier. No musician was candid in a bio. They listed their albums, maybe an influence, whether they had been lucky enough to hit the charts, then they said where they lived, and that was it.
But Cam found it impossible to write about Lilith’s life and Lilith’s unique situation from an objective point of view. Instead, he wrote:
I wrote this song at the creek behind my school, where I go to escape when the world gets suffocating. I go there every day. I’d live there if I could. I wrote this song after I got my heart broken, but not right after. I got hurt so bad that it took a long time before I could put what it felt like into words. There are still some things about my broken heart that I don’t understand, and I don’t know if I ever will. But music helps. That’s why I write, and that’s why I listen to music all the time. For what it’s worth, your songs are my favorites.
I don’t expect to win this contest. I’ve learned never to expect anything at all. It’s an honor just to think of you reading something I wrote.
As he typed the final words, Cam’s vision blurred. His eyes filled with tears.
He hadn’t cried when he was exiled from the presence of the Throne, or when he’d fallen through the Void. He hadn’t even cried when he’d first lost Lilith all those millennia ago.
But now he couldn’t stop himself. Lilith had suffered so much. And Cam had been the cause of it. He’d known she was hurt when they split up—how could he not have known?—but he’d never expected the pain and anger to stay with her for so long, to dominate her as it did in Crossroads. The spirit of the girl he loved was still there, but it had been tortured, ruthlessly.
His tears came, hard and steady. He was glad to be alone in the library.
Hzzzzzz.
One of Cam’s tears had fallen onto the table, making a sizzling sound. He watched it burn a hole through the Formica, and then through the carpet underneath. Black smoke swirled up from the floor.
Cam leapt to his feet, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his leather jacket—and watched his tears eat through the leather, too. What was happening?
“Demons should never cry.”
Cam turned to find Luc wearing a wireless headset, playing Doom on his tablet at the table behind Cam. How long had he been there?
The devil threw off his headset. “Don’t you know what demon tears are made of?”
“I’ve never had a reason to know,” Cam said.
“Nasty stuff,” Luc said. “Toxic in the extreme. So be careful. Or don’t be—your call.”
Cam glanced back at his phone, glad his tears hadn’t fallen on it. He quickly hit Send. Lucifer whistled under his breath.
“You’re losing it,” Luc said. “Lilith’s going to hate that you just did that.”
“If you interfere with this,” Cam said, “it invalidates our wager.”
Lucifer chuckled. “You’re doing enough damage on your own, bud. You don’t need my help.” He paused. “In fact, your performance thus far is so pathetic, I feel sorry for you. So I’m going to throw you a bone.”
The devil held out a Post-it note, which Cam snatched. “What is this?”
“Lilith’s address,” Luc said. “She’s going to straight-up whale on you when you return the journal. Might be best to do it in private, not in front of the whole school.”
Cam grabbed his messenger bag and pushed past the devil and through the library doors. There was an hour until the bell. Maybe Lilith would still be at home.