Page 63 of The Music Demon

“I’m thinkin’ you have suggestions?”

“Guidelines maybe. A guitar is an extremely personal thing. You can get something middle of the road brand new. But sometimes you can find a phenomenal deal at a pawn shop.”

“Talkin’ my language. Every guitar I’ve ever bought myself was given up by somebody. Gibson SG or Fender Stratocaster.”

“Duly impressed. Duly noted. Good to know what we’re looking for. Our mission is to find one that looks a little used.”

“This is gonna be fun,” Doo said. “I never had anybody give me anything so…”

“Expensive?” Shy supplied.

“Yeah,” Doo said. “Seems too good to be true.”

“Hope you still think so when you’re fifty-three.” Lyric was quick with a reminder that a potentially shortened life wasn’t something most people would think irrelevant. And that serious regrets might be an unintended consequence, at some point.

“I could almost think you’ve spent breakfast tryin’ to talk me out of this. Which is really funny ‘cause it wasyoursuggestion, you know?”

“You’d almost think he has a conscience.” Shivaun was talking to Doo about Lyric while keeping her gaze trained on the demon at her side.

Lyric scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He picked up the check, produced a black American Express, even though he carried no wallet and handed it off to the server as she passed by the booth. “So here’s what’s going to happen. When we get back to the hotel, you’re going to change into your travel clothes. Leave everything behind that doesn’t fit the guidelines. Like we talked about. Where’s the wallet I gave you with your new ID?”

“In the little safe in the closet.”

“Good. So give me your wallet.”

Doo handed over his wallet. Lyric made it literally disappear under the table. “We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

“There’s no point hangin’ around here. I guess I’m good to go.”

Shivaun hadn’t been sure if she’d been reading Doo’s emotions as anxiety or excitement. For the first time, she thought she was definitely seeing more anticipation than trepidation and the enthusiasm was contagious.

He looked at Shivaun. “You comin’?”

“Great Paddy, lad. I would no’ miss it for the world.”

Gray Darby, a.k.a. Doo Darby, knocked on the demons’ door. He possessed nothing he’d want to take with him that was from a time before 1967. So he came as he was. In vintage clothing.

Lyric opened the door manually, just in case a maid or hotel guest happened to be in the hall. Doo looked like he was made to wear those clothes and didn’t look uncomfortable as might be expected.

Shivaun whistled low. That earned her a grin from Doo and a scowl from Lyric. “What?” she said to the demon. “He looks good. Does no’ mean I’m suggestin’ a trade.”

Doo chuckled. “You look good, too. More than good.”

She grabbed theLost Boys’skirt and twirled around. “Thank ye, kind sir.”

“Got your ID?” Lyric asked.

Doo’s hand went to his pocket reflexively. He patted to confirm the first item on the checklist.

“Okay. This is what will happen. First, we’re going to have to give you a little injection of demon juice. Not enough to change you significantly. Just enough so we can take you on a magic carpet ride without killing you. Don’t worry. It’s temporary.”

“Killin’?” Doo sounded worried again.

“Not going to happen,” Lyric said dismissively. “I’m also going to handcuff you to me. Just a precaution. We’ve learned that species that are not native travelers can get lost in other worlds. It’s for your own protection.”

When Lyric produced a pair of leather cuffs with thick sheep’s wool lining, Doo looked at Shivaun as if asking for a vote of confidence.

“’Tis true,” she said. “Humans do no’ survive our means of transportation without a little help. ‘Twill no’ harm ye.”

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