Page 118 of The Music Demon

Lyric refused to let the cruelty of her teasing tarnish his enjoyment of revisiting the birth of rock festivals, made even more exciting by the fact that his project was performing.

Shivaun’s appreciation for music had grown exponentially, but it couldn’t keep pace with the marvel of that many people in one place. She came from a village of four hundred people and never imagined that there were two hundred thousand in the entire world, much less congregated in one place to hear music. The excitement was palpable in the air, such that everyone present, even the least sensitive, knew it was an iconic, time capsule moment in history.

When Roundabout was up, the two demons were directly in front of the stage holding hands. They watched Dougray Darby take the stage with a little boy grin, a slow Southern strut, and a wink at Lyric. It was clear he was born to be doing exactly what he was doing at exactly that moment in time. Shivaun was as emotional as if Doo was a relative.

Doo’s guitar wasn’t just perfect. It was transcendent and Lyric could tell by the looks Doo got from Roundabout band members during the performance that they’d be fine with it if Jeffie decided to retire.

On the other side of the stage, Cass Power had gained a vantage point by climbing part way up the scaffolding. Lyric could tell by the look on her face as she watched Doo that she believed there was not a single thing in the universe more marvelous than Darby.

The demon felt sure they were going to be good for each other. For the briefest second he was jealous of Eros demons, but then Jefferson Airplane started playing.

When their set was done, Lyric pulled Shivaun off to the side, leaned down and spoke into her ear. “I’m going to go congratulate the kid. One person popping in will be easier to pull off than two.”

She nodded.

She lost sight of Lyric when he went around the stage. When Jefferson Airplane started playing, she was being jostled in a way she didn’t like. So she moved away in the direction Lyric had gone. She knew he could find her anywhere so she wasn’t worried about that.

“Hello.” A voice rose from behind her.

She turned to see the face of the man who’d been staring at her that day at lunch in Haight-Ashbury.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Your future.” He smiled. She sneezed. “Oh. Here. Let me.”

He covered her nose and mouth with Shelejiah’s hanky and, according to instructions said, “Just relax. This won’t harm you. You’re just going to enjoy a deep sleep.”

When he saw Shivaun’s eyes flash, he knew instantly something wasn’t going according to plan. The combination of natural Irish fire and hunter training caused a shift in the air that was alarming to the shapeshifter. She batted his hand and the hanky away.

“What in gods’ names are ye tryin’ at?” She demanded with a fury that was clearly on the verge of throttling him.

Quicksilver was completely unprepared for the ‘magic’ to be impotent; pathetically so.

In Shelejiah’s defense, she was missing a critical bit of information. She’d counted on that iconic image of immediate surrender to chloroform having been embedded in the female demon’s subconscious mind while human.

She didn’t know that Shivaun had been raised in an anthropological preserve, away from modern cultural references. With no basis for believing in the old hanky anesthesia myth.

As much as he was unprepared for the magic to fail, he was just as unprepared to be facing off with a hellcat who might well come into her status as demon on steroids at any time. With no Plan B anywhere in sight, Quicksilver dropped the hanky, and disappeared looking both confused and shaken.

Shivaun knew instantly that an assailant who disappears is some species of elemental and, most likely, demon.

Great Paddy. Lyric was right.

On some level she’d suspected that he was using a scare tactic to rush her into a commitment she wasn’t ready to make, even though that didn’t jive with the fact that he’d never shown any sign of lying about it. She supposed that was what people meant by ‘denial’.

She bent down and picked up the hanky before heading off to find Lyric and tell him what had happened. Somebodywasafter her.

Glancing at the hanky she saw that it was extraordinarily pretty, with a large, French laid letter S. She wondered why her attacker would go to the trouble to acquire a beautiful handkerchief monogrammed with her initial. Odd.

She turned and jogged toward the outer edges of scaffolding hoping to come across Lyric, and she wasn’t disappointed. He’d already spotted her and was heading her direction with a big smile on his face, but the smile dropped away when he registered her expression.

“What’s happened?”

It didn’t take long to tell the story because the entire event, beginning to end, had taken place in less than a minute.

“What did he look like?”

“Tall. Tan. Brown hair, blonde streaks. And now that you mention it, out of place here.”