Page 96 of The Music Demon

The ferocity of the storm Lyric had called forth surprised even him. He batted away a passing thought that he felt somehow stronger, more powerful than before, dismissing it as overactive imagination.

The two hovered entwined a hundred feet above Shivaun’s idyllic retreat. Charcoal-colored clouds rushed by them, pushed by a hundred-mile-an-hour gale that would usually be certain destruction for everything in its path. But demons are hard to harm.

As Lyric drove into Shivaun with a force to match the storm, she clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his torso, as if she was afraid she’d fall without his magic to keep them aloft.

Her tears blended with the lashing rain and blew away in the wind while soaked strands of hair whipped at her face.

Riding the erratic emotions of coupling with the female he hoped would be his mate, Lyric was in tune with Shivaun in mind, body, and spirit. He knew instinctively that her weeping wasn’t an expression of pain or sorrow. It was her body’s involuntary response to an overflow of emotion so overwhelming it demanded release in some form.

The storm’s roar would’ve drowned out all other sound to human ears, but Shivaun had no trouble hearing Lyric when he whispered in her ear, “Let yourself feel the sting of the rain as I do. And know that we’re together in all things.”

She pulled back to look in his face. The demon’s eyes almost appeared to have tiny lightning bolts in the pupils. But more importantly, what she saw there was a male who’d made it his mission to please his lover. She batted away a passing thought that it looked like love and dismissed it as overactive imagination.

At his suggestion, she allowed the feel of stinging rain on her skin and cried out at the sudden spike of pleasure. That was followed by a third climax and a surrender so thorough she couldn’t imagine taking another male into her body. Ever. She was no longer capable of physical exhaustion in the way humans are, but she was drained emotionally. “Enough, demon.”

The instant those words left her lips, the rain stopped. The wind became a gentle breeze. The dark clouds moved away quickly and were replaced by their white, fluffy cousins backlit by filtered sunlight.

Keeping Shivaun firmly in place, wrapped around his body in a way that felt meant-to-be, Lyric floated them slowly down to the pavilion. By the time Shivaun’s feet touched polished stone, her hair was dry with shiny curls and she was wearing the linen tunic she’d conjured in her fantasy.

After a deep breath, she said, “Wow.”

He made no reply, but stood quietly watching and waiting to see what she’d do next. He hoped with every part of him that what he’d just experienced was not what humans call a goodbye fuck.

“So,” she said cheerfully. “What shall we do now? Should we…?”

Shivaun started to ask if they should check on Doo, but when she turned her head quickly all three dozen windchimes sang out for a few seconds.

“Did you do that?” she asked.

Lyric shook his head while looking at the chimes quizzically. “Can you do it again?”

“Do what? What did I do?”

He thought back. “What were you thinking when it happened?”

“I was askin’ if you wanted to go see Doo.”

“Alright. So, think about that.” She did. Nothing happened. “You were looking over at the swans,” who were returning from whatever mysterious shelter they’d taken during the storm, “and you looked over at me.”

“I’m lookin’ at you now.”

“Yes, but… Try looking at the swans and then looking at me.”

She looked at the swans then swiveled her head toward Lyric. When that got a small response from the chimes, she locked eyes with the demon and engaged in a dialogue that was both silent and brief.

She continued the experiment by repeating her actions but turning toward Lyric faster. The result was more chime music.

The third time, she jerked her head toward Lyric and the windchimes showed off like they were all hoping to be adopted.

Lyric, looking at the windchimes, cocked his head and said, “Huh.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” And he didn’t but he had a wild, crazy idea. “Come and sit over here.” He motioned to the divan.

She frowned a little, thinking that was preparation for some kind of bad news, but complied.

“Here.” He handed her the guitar. She took it without any idea where the demon was going with that. “See if you can play.”

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