The Music Demon - Victoria Danann Page 0,92

of her own. “Mixin’ essences, you say? I have developed an appreciation for music that was no’ there before.”

“You didn’t like music?”

“Oh, aye. I did like it just fine. But I was no’ what you’d call a devotee.”

Lyric laughed. “You’re a devotee?”

She wagged her head back and forth. “Gettin’ there, I think. But ‘tis beside the point. The point is that perhaps we have exchanged more than fluids.” She looked out at the water. “Are you sorry that you’re, em, different?”

He ran his hand down her arm before pulling her into his body as close as if they were dancing. “No. Are you?” She grinned and shook her head. “Does this mean you’ll accept me as your mate?”

“You askin’?”

“What do you mean? I’ve asked and asked and…” That was when he remembered that mentally and emotionally Shivaun was more human than demon. “Oh. You want a, ah…”

“Proposal.”

“Yeah. That.”

“Aye. That.”

He’d never paid attention to such things, never dreamed in a thousand millenniums that he would need that information. But he found himself wishing he had.

“Do I, ah...? Great Paddy, Shivaun. You’re going to need to tell me what to do.”

She teased him by sighing dramatically. “Very well. Look into my eyes, ask me to be your mate, and tell me why I should.”

“Why I should?”

“Aye.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Looking into her eyes, he said, “We’ll always have each other. You’ll never be alone.” Lyric felt something clench when he said that. Before Shivaun he’d been perfectly content to be alone, preferred it even. After spending so much time with her, he couldn’t imagine going back to life as he’d known it before. She was like a drug that he needed to survive. “And we’ll, ah, have fun?”

He could tell by the look on her face that he hadn’t stumbled on the right words. “What did I miss?”

“How do you feel about me?”

He looked puzzled. “I just told you.”

“Demon! I need to hear the “l” word.”

“The thing I said I could never do?”

“Stop the pussy footin’.”

“Shivaun.”

“Aye?”

“I love you.”

It was like shouldering a boulder uphill, but once he’d pushed the words out, the idea felt more at home in his psyche.

She threw her arms around him. “I love you, too.”

He picked her up and twirled her around the little scenic outlook. Then he set her down and began humming so they could dance in the dark. The demon’s voice caused her essence to vibrate like a standing chime. Feelings rose to the surface and crested in such emotion that she didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or assault the demon sexually.

“Your singin’ is…”

“I know.”

Cass was on the backstage list. They made their way down a cramped and crowded hallway with fluorescent lights toward the party room.

“Sock!” They looked up to see Jerry Slick approaching. He nodded at Cass and grinned at Doo. “I see you found her.”

“You give good directions,” Doo said.

Somebody pulled Slick away.

“Looks like you were wrong,” Cass said.

“About what?”

“Seems like you’re more impressive than you think.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “I really am surprised he remembered.”

“And the sock thing?”

“He said he was gonna call me that, short for Socrates. I didn’t think he was serious.”

When the band showed up, freshly showered and wired like they’d stuck fingers into electrical outlets, Cass introduced Doo to his heroes.

After half an hour of checking out the madness of an after-concert celebration, Cass turned to him and said, “This the life for you, Doo Darby?”

“I just wanna play the music. If I’m lucky enough to get to do that, puttin’ up with a few people playin’ the fool? It’s a small price to pay.”

She beamed. “Good answer. Let’s get out of here.”

They sat in the car in front of Cass’s pad and talked. About the concert. About the future of rock and roll music. About how she might help Doo.

“So, if you had a genie, what would you want? To audition for bands forming or start your own?”

“As long as I’m with guys who get me musically, and vice versa, who want to create the kind of sound I have in mind? I don’t care.”

“You know what gets in the way of that? Ninety-nine percent of the time?”

“What?”

“Egos. Giant, whale-sized egos. You know musicians are a weird lot. Acquiring this level of musical skill requires an awful lot of time alone in a room learning. Practicing. As you know.” He nodded. “People like that are not always good socially.”

He was considering that and wondering if it applied to him as she went on.

“Somebody like you,

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