a very large and inviting bed with silk sheets, candles, wildflowers from the mountains of Aragon, and sexy music.”
“Nice try, demon. I’ll no’ be sharin’ beds with any males, demon or otherwise, till I’ve pledged my heart.”
Lyric considered the pronouncement charming and challenging. Challenge accepted. His male pride didn’t allow for appearing charmed. So, he settled for a signature smirk. “I gotta try.”
“Why?”
To his smirk, he added a raised brow. “Because I have balls.”
“’Tis no’ an acceptable answer. What is ‘sexy’ music?”
“It’s in the ear of the listener, of course. I have my own ideas about that, but I’m much more interested in what you think is sexy music.”
“I’m still gettin’ used to all the different sounds made by instruments I never heard of. The way people put together notes and voices and rhythms… Tell you what. If I hear music that strikes me as sexy, I’ll tell you.”
“Deal. So. If I can’t change your mind about a leisurely copulation at my place, what would you like to do?”
“Since I’m still learnin’ my preferences, let’s do something you like. Listen to music somewhere.”
“Somewhere quiet? Or somewhere excited?”
She tucked her chin in a way that made her look shy. “Quiet.”
The demon shepherded his prize through the passes, careful to get between her and other travelers passing. At that early stage of courtship his top priority was avoiding giving other males the chance to pick up her scent. Her delectable, indescribable, miraculous scent.
The Crossroads Inn was a quiet sort of tavern that served a wide range of tastes in beverages, good music, and an atmosphere conducive to conversation. It was quiet and the proprietor was dedicated to keeping it that way. If you were up for a brawl, you’d be better off passing the place by.
Shivaun’s enhanced senses bloomed to life the moment she stepped inside the dimly lit club. In the blink of an eye she had taken it all in and decided instantly that she liked the decadent atmosphere of the place. In another place and another time it might have been called bordello-ish. Velvet seating in deep reds and purples sat around the walls of the room. A slight smoky haze defied gravity and created the look of viewing the entire establishment through a filter.
It was half full of patrons, but totally full of strange sights. Creatures she hadn’t yet encountered and couldn’t have imagined were engaged in strange-sounding conversations over strange-looking drinks.
There were a few open-sided booths in the center of the club. Shy’s eyes landed on some of the occupants there because it was better lit than the outer edges. A grayish-skinned anthropoid that looked like a cross between a rhinoceros and a human bodybuilder turned his horn to the sky and drank from a tankard that was, apparently, perpetually on fire before laughing at something his companion had said. Three rose-colored females with skimpy clothing and nubby horns protruding from their foreheads appeared to be giggling, but the sounds they made were more like a cross between snoring and ripping fabric.
The O’Malley twins were not averse to experiences with odd species. At the time the walls were erected around the New Forest Preserve, there were several creature families, large and small, who were fortunate enough to be inside and get permanent endangered status by accident. There were animals living there that hadn’t been catalogued by science, some that existed nowhere else on earth.
A spotlight shone on a humanoid singer in a long, red, glittery dress.
“This is…” Lyric went still as he waited to hear how Shivaun would finish that sentence. “Wonderful.” She sounded awestruck.
Lyric breathed in bliss that she liked one of the things he enjoyed. “I know. I love the blues.”
Shy looked at him. “What is that?”
He knew he’d mistaken what she’d meant when she’d said ‘wonderful’. “I thought you were talking about the music.”
She shook her head. “Em. No. I was, em, meanin’ the place in general.”
“Ah,” Lyric said.
“But I like the music, too.” Shy made a point of paying attention to the singer. She was aware that the song’s language wasn’t her own, but she understood perfectly and made a mental note to ask Lyric about that later. “‘Tis what you meant by blues? This sort of music?”
He smiled and started to say that he was glad, but they were interrupted by a woman whose approach could only be called a ‘slink’. She resembled humans in all respects except that her irises took up most of her eyes, leaving almost no white. The