Page 22 of The Music Demon

Lyric eased her around to his side, but kept her pressed securely against him, his arm around her waist. While she was distracted, he snagged the opportunity to nuzzle the top of her head and breathe in the scent of… What? Rainstorm perhaps. No matter. By any name, it had become the demon’s favorite scent.

“Look,” he whispered.

She opened one eye to see the gigantic winged basilisk just as it swooped over them, changing course at the last second, to soar straight up the vertical cliff where his family waited.

Lyric felt Shivaun shiver slightly before her body relaxed.

“Dragon families are similar to the historic human model where females hatch and nurture young while males hunt, provide, and protect.”

Stepping away she said, “Well, he’s no’ doin’ such a fine job of protectin’. We spent a good part of the afternoon jumpin’ the kids up on sugar while he was away ‘huntin’.” She used air quotes to demonstrate her doubt that daddy dragon was actually taking care of business. “He was probably out drinkin’ with friends.”

Lyric burst into laughter which, after a few seconds, made her smile. “I would like to see that.” After a pause, he said. “Is that an Irish thing? Your assumption that the dad was out drinking?”

“Do no’ know about that. I am Irish. And in Black On Tarry, when a fella is missin’, it usually means he’s either hammered or gettin’ that way.” Lyric chuckled. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so content. Like being with Shivaun was a buzz all in itself. “So. You think they’ll be tellin’ him he missed out on something better than the drink?”

As her eyes slanted to the side, she couldn’t help but notice that Lyric’s smile was making more frequent appearances and that the depth of sincerity behind it was growing proportionately.

“I think that all the long eons I haven’t known you, I’ve been missing out,” he said.

With playfully narrowed eyes, she said, “Do no’ pretend to be charmin’. Irish call that sort of flattery bein’ silver-tongued. Means you’re full of mullarkey.”

“Mullarkey. Is that akin to bullshit?”

“Aye. ‘Tis the same.”

“Even your insults soften the hours.”

“More mullarkey.”

“That was heartfelt. And it hurts to hear you say you don’t find me charming.”

“Did no’ say I do no’. I accused you of pretendin’.”

“When I compliment you, no pretense is required, Shivaun.”

She smiled. “It so happens I must believe you. Since I can detect lies and all.”

Lyric found the female more delightful with every new surprise that tumbled from her pretty red lips. If demons could experience strain on their bodies, Lyric’s facial muscles would be growing sore from the combination of so much smiling and so many millennia of unuse.

“Before we were interrupted, you were about to tell me your story from start to now.”

“I was about to do no such thing. I was decidin’ what I think about you bein’ as old as that rock right there.”

After glancing in the direction in which she’d waved a hand, he said, looking less pleased and sounding slightly irritated, “I am not as old as that rock. Oranyrock for that matter. You’re exaggerating.”

“I might be exaggeratin’, but you’re a fraud.”

“How am I a fraud?”

“Did you disclose that you’re billions of years old when you asked me on a date?”

Lyric pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked down, sighed deeply, and tried to gather his wits. How could his emotions flip from euphoria to agitation within the space of a blink?

Looking up at Shivaun through thick eyelashes that should never have been bestowed on a male, he said, “First, I’m not billions of years old. And, second, if I’d known you had an age restriction on dating, I would’ve fully disclosed. But the outcome would have been the same. So. What difference does it make?”

“What do you mean the outcome would’ve been the same?”

“I mean, you would still be here with me right now.” Her eyes flashed when he pulled her into his body without warning. “Doing this.”

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