The crowd chuckled as he turned to the band and said something just before launching into Gary Moore’s “Still Got The Blues”.
Gray liked the song. It showed off his strengths. And best of all, since ninety percent of the performance was vocal and lead guitar, he didn’t need the band to do much. They weren’t up to his level of musicianship. All he really needed them to do was follow his tempo while not stepping on his vocals or get in the way of tour-de-force guitar solos.
It had been a while since Lyric had been so enthralled. His body was humming from head to toe and that was before the kid performed his own arrangement of The Doors’ “Crystal Ship”. Gray Darby had that special something that transcends vocal talent and technical playing. What a shame that he’d been born fifty or so years too late.
As Gray Darby thanked the crowd and stepped away from the band, Lyric turned to face the object of his affection. “Do you like music, Shivaun?”
With a whole-body smile she responded without hesitation. “I like you.”
The demon didn’t care that she sidestepped the question. So far as he was concerned, of all the answers in the history of questions, that was the best. While Lyric was mentally running through various ways to respond to her declaration, which was charmingly guileless, Shivaun ended the inner debate.
After a series of rapid blinks, she said, “I have to go to work.”
“Work?” he asked, stupidly.
“Aye. Though ye may no’ be personally engaged in such activity, I assume you grasp the concept. I’m bein’ called to muster at the Abbey. So now is the time for you to tell me how to get where I need to be.”
“How do you know?” He sounded dubious.
“How do I know I’ve been called to work?” He nodded. “Do no’ know for sure how it works. I just get this kind of tingle.” She chuckled. “Like a super haptic, I guess.” The demon clearly didn’t find that funny. “From Rosie.” She added.
“Rosie,” Lyric said drily then sighed. “Don’t you get time off? I had dibs.”
“Dibs? Is that like a claim? On what? Me!?”
“Well. Yes. I have a prior claim.”
She laughed. “My time off is no’ an absolute. ‘Tis what you’d call tentative.”
“What could be that important?” he demanded. “You’re not enslaved to Black Swan.”
“No. O’course I’m no’ enslaved. But I took an oath and I mean to keep it.” Shivaun was a little entertained by Lyric’s pouting. “Look here, demon. I do no’ know why I’m needed. But perhaps if I’m asked on another date, I might tell you then. If ‘tis no’ classified.”
It didn’t escape Lyric that she’d just stated a desire to be asked out again, which meant two things. First, she wasn’t trying to end the date early because she hated his kissing. And, second, it was the same thing as asking him on a date. He decided that he could massage away his disappointment with the consolation that another date was just… when?
“When?” He said what he was thinking out loud.
Looking every inch pleased by that response, she looked at him through thick red eyelashes. It was a flirtatious gesture that might seem cliché or trite, but got the job done. “Tomorrow?”
“Done.” He tapped the table like he’d just closed out an auction item. “I will pick you up at…”
“Four.”
He was going to say nine, but four was even better. “Four it is.”
“Well then?”
“Well, then, what?”
“You’re going to show me how to get to the Abbey. On March the friggin’ 17th.”
“Okay. What do you do now when you want to find somebody?”
“Well… I’m no’ really to that point yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re in trainin’. Rosie said to think of ourselves as student drivers. We’re supposed to have somebody experienced with us.”
“Huh. So I’m like the designated driver?”
“You’re a funny sort of demon, aren’t ye?”
“Well, yes. But telling me I’m funny is not exactly the same as laughing at my jokes. Which is the goal. You laughing, I mean.”
“Huh.”
Lyric snorted softly. “I don’t know if I can stand being with a female who’s funnier than I am.”
“Is there such a person?” Her eyes flashed with her smile.
“You’re a flatterin’ sort of demon, aren’t you?” He repeated her words from earlier back to her and she was charmed, knowing he listened that closely.
She lifted a shoulder in a feminine shrug that drew Lyric’s attention to her clavicle, and her neck, and her lips…