Demon Lover
Page 11
“You’re home earlier than the last couple nights,” he observed, holding her as tightly as she held him.
“Yeah, I took a half day off of work.”
“Are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine. I just didn’t want to be at work.” Not a lie. Guilt ate at her anyway.
“If you’re well, then I’m glad to see you sooner than I’d expected.” He kissed the top of her head.
She pulled back to meet his gaze. “Well, you’ll see me early tomorrow, too. And the next day. It’s Christmas Eve and Christmas, and I don’t have to work.”
Irdu smiled, but it was a little sad. “You’ll be spending your Christmas with me?”
“Yes. And you’re the best person I could spend it with.”
He looked at her skeptically.
“I’m serious.”
He took that in for a moment. His expression softened.
“Do you want to go out again? I got you a zip-up hoodie.”
His frown was back. “Between the dreams I’ve inhabited and the television I’ve watched, I know that wealth is still a pressing concern in this world. I wouldn’t want you to spend your funds on entertaining me. I’m happy as long as I’m with you. I don’t need—”
“I know you don’t. And let me assure you, I’m far from rich, but I can afford a hoodie and a few movie tickets. It makes me happy to go out into the world with you. It makes me happy that I can give that to you.”
Irdu looked troubled. “You already give me too much. And I give you nothing.”
Autumn didn’t know how to put into words everything he gave her. Comfort. Peace. Affection. Companionship. Mind-blowing orgasms. Those things couldn’t be measured in dollars and cents, could never be bought, could never be so easily and bloodlessly acquired as a sweatshirt or a movie ticket. She’d never felt as happy in someone else’s presence as she did in Irdu’s. She’d gave away every last penny she had if she could keep him with her always.
“You give me so much,” she said, the words completely inadequate. “Making it so you can go places with me isn’t something I’m doing only for you. I’m selfish, and I want to be with you everywhere I can be. If the cost is a pair of pants, then I’m getting a major bargain, okay?”
Irdu pursed his lips, clearly not placated, but didn’t press the issue.
“Can we go out?” Autumn asked. “If you want to, I mean.”
He glanced at her, and the tension faded from his mouth. “Yes, alright.”
With the zip-up hoodie, dressing him was much easier. She hid his blue skin beneath color-corrector and foundation, and hid his horns beneath a knit hat and flipped-up parka hood. He slid on the sunglasses and out the door they went. This time, Autumn took him to the public library. It was more brightly lit than the cinema, but less crowded.
Irdu was nearly incandescent with nervous energy. Somebody passed them in a narrow aisle, murmuring, “Excuse me.” Irdu replied, “No problem,” and then shot Autumn a look of such utter delight that she nearly melted into a puddle of happiness. They sat in the reading room and pretended to read books, while Irdu was actually watching the other people, and Autumn was watching Irdu.
When they returned home, his excitement translated itself into passion again, and he made her come twice with talented tongue before she shoved him onto his back, straddled his hips, and sank down on his cock. Every orgasm brought her to the same infinite darkness—but it wasn’t until Irdu was inside her, when his climax preceded hers once again, that the strange, painful cold leeched into the protective embrace of the dancing blue haze.
It coiled around her body like a constricting snake, burning her skin with ice cold pain.
When she came back to herself, Irdu had her pulled against his chest, murmuring sweetly as he kissed her cheek, her jaw, her nose, her brow, her lips. His warmth banished the pain of the cold, and she curled into the comfort of his presence.
Christmas Eve morning, Autumn woke in Irdu’s arms. He kissed her forehead before he vanished with the sunrise. She rolled into the warm spot he’d left in the sheets and checked the time of the sunset on her phone. She did the math in her head—a little more than nine hours before she’d see him again. With a grumble, she got out of bed.
She didn’t have much to do with herself. Her mother lived in another state. Her only available friend was in D.C. It was too depressing to spend the holiday sitting alone, eating cold takeout, and binge-watching a crappy sci-fi series. With a sigh, she went to the closet. Last year, in a failed attempt to cheer herself up, she’d bought Christmas decorations and tricked out her apartment. She wasn’t sure if Irdu would care much about Christmas decor, but it might prove to him that she was happy to be with him during the holiday.
She assembled her tiny fake Christmas tree and put it on the dresser beside her TV, draping it with glittery golden garland and brightly colored glass ornaments. She would’ve liked to have a couple gifts beneath it, but she had nobody to give them to. She could give Irdu something, but she suspected it would upset him.
She tacked string lights around her window. Standing on a stool, she hung green and red tinsel garland in swags along the top of the walls. She put three little candle-shaped lamps in her window. She hung a fake pine bough wreath on her door, placed two ceramic reindeer on her nightstand, and hung a printed canvas of Norman Rockwell’s Santa at the Map. With the remainder of the garland, she trimmed the edge of her kitchen counter and her door.
When she was done, she stood in the center of her apartment, taking it all in, and found that she did feel a happy little lift at the sight of it.
Then she realized that she still had more than five hours to kill before Irdu returned. Her good mood dimmed a little. With a sigh, she pulled out her computer and went back to the research she’d been doing yesterday. She learned that there was a term for stories about descending into the underworld: katabasis. Using that, she combed through academic journals on folklore, mythology, comparative literature, and theology, reading article after article about katabasis stories. She was trying to find connections between fertility deities, literacy deities, and the underworld. But the vast divergence in interpretations and analyses left her with more questions than answers.
She wasn’t even sure what kind of answer she was looking for. In all honesty, she was mostly hoping she’d happen upon some random bit of information that would pull everything together into a perfect eureka. Everything would become crystal clear—exactly what she needed to do to save Irdu. If she could just stumble across a perfectly researched, peer-reviewed paper entitled All World Religions Agree: to free a demon from eternal enslavement, just follow these three easy steps!
Defeated, she closed her computer. A glance at the time told her she still had three hours until sundown. Deciding that all the lovely Christmas decor needed good Christmas smells, she pulled on her coat and walked to the corner store.
When Irdu finally appeared, Autumn’s cheek was streaked with flour, her sweater had a big oil stain, and her left hand had long pink burn mark across the top. She hovered over the stove, whisking vigorously at gravy that had gone a little lumpy. Irdu took in the sight of her, a fond smile curling his lips.
“Been busy?”
“Yes,” she told him brightly. “I thought we could have a holiday dinner together. I know you said you don’t eat, but can you eat?”
Irdu shrugged. “Probably. I’m not certain what would happen.”
“Would it kill you?” Autumn looked up, clutching her whisk.
“No. But I might have to… er… regurgitate it.”
“Oh. Then I won’t ask you to eat anything. But you can keep me company while I eat my smorgasbord. I made my favorites—pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes with gravy, and my grandma’s flaky biscuits.”
“It sounds highly nutritious,” he said dryly.
It was a bit carb-heavy, but those were the things she’d always loaded her plate with when she was a kid at family holidays. “Nutritional values are mo
ot on holidays. Everyone knows that.”
“You don’t have a single vegetable on your plate.”
“Excuse me, Judgey McJudgerson, but I have pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes. That’ll be two vegetables on my plate.”
He raised his eyebrows. She grinned unrepentantly and started scooping mashed potatoes onto her plate. “This is the way my dad made them,” she said, creating a mountain. “Baby reds. Leave the skins on. In a separate pan, caramelize some onions. Then you mash the potatoes and onions together with roasted garlic, chives, salt and pepper, butter, and—the secret ingredient—cream cheese.” She shoveled a spoonful into her mouth and sighed happily. “It’s so bad for you.”
“I’ve never eaten potatoes.”
Autumn froze halfway through ladling gravy onto her potato mountain. “What?”
“Potatoes originated in the Americas. And I don’t think they’d even been domesticated when I was human.”
Autumn’s eyes rounded. “Look, I don’t want to pressure you into bulimia, but these potatoes are worth the possibility of having to regurgitate them later.”
Irdu eyed them unenthusiastically. “Forgive me, but they look a great deal like plaster.”
Autumn pulled out a second plate and began filling it with small portions of everything. “Just try a little nibble, see what you think.”
“I’m not certain I have the ability to taste food.”
“Can you taste me?”
Irdu’s gaze darkened, fixing on her with a predatory gleam that made her flush. “Let me see.” He rounded the kitchen counter, tilted her chin up, and kissed her long and deep. His tongue swept into her mouth as his fangs pressed her lips. When he pulled away, Autumn realized she’d dripped gravy all over the stovetop.
“Well?” she asked, a little breathless.
“Yes. I taste you. But you are living flesh, filled with the energy that sustains me. And this…” he glanced at the mashed potatoes and failed to find an adequate finish to his sentence.
“Well, just give it a tiny little try.” Autumn brought their plates to the counter. She pulled out both stools and gestured for Irdu to come sit beside her. As he settled skeptically into his seat, she nudged a fork towards him, and waited eagerly.
He picked it up awkwardly. His claws wouldn’t allow him to grasp a fork the way she did, so he was forced to hold it in a clenched fist. Taking just the barest little dab of potato, he reluctantly put it into his mouth.
After a moment, he shrugged. “It didn’t taste like anything.”
“Because you ate a single potato molecule. Take a bigger bite.”
Sighing, he took a more reasonable portion, and put it in his mouth. His jaw worked, then his throat. When he looked back at Autumn, he shrugged. “I can taste the flavors you told me about. But they don’t give me the pleasure that they give you.”
Autumn frowned. The logical side of her brain acknowledged that a creature who didn’t need to eat to survive would not get pleasure from eating, but something emotional and stubborn compelled her to make him enjoy a meal with her. “Try the biscuit. It’s spread with garlic butter.”
Irdu complied, taking a modest bite, chewing, and swallowing. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I’m sure it’s lovely to humans. But it’s a wasted experience on me.”
“I know. I don’t know why I’m being stubborn about this.” She poked unhappily at her own plate. “Would you try the pumpkin pie, anyway? Just for the sake of closure?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he took a good-natured bite of the pie.
“Thank you,” she told him. “Sorry for being pushy.” She tucked into her own plate, moody and thoughtful.
“You said these are your father’s potatoes, and your grandmother’s biscuits. Are they traditional for you?” Irdu asked, poking at the food on his plate.
“Yeah. We always used to spend Christmas Day with my dad’s family, at Grandma and Grandpa’s house—the house I showed you in the dream.”
“It was a safe harbor for you?”
“I spent most weekends at Grandma and Grandpa’s when I was little. All the big holidays were at their house. After Dad died, I ended up living with them for a while when Mom turned into a zombie. Grandma and Grandpa were always good to me. Thinking about them and their home always makes me happy.”
Irdu touched her cheek. “Thank you for bringing me there.”
“I’m glad you saw it.” Feeling cheered, she ate her Holiday Carbs with more zeal. To her utter shock, Irdu attempted another bite of the potatoes. Unsure what to say—but certain that she didn’t want to hear again about how the taste of them was meaningless—she chose to pretend she hadn’t noticed.
Irdu asked her about her family’s holiday traditions. She asked him about holidays from the time of his human life, and he struggled to remember them, describing bits and pieces of different festivals and celebrations. Here and there, he took little tastes from his plate, seemingly unaware of doing it. Autumn followed each bite with laser focus.
That night, when they came together in bed, Irdu eased back from her, holding her in place. “I have a gift for you,” he said in a husky voice.
“You got me a Christmas present? But I didn’t—”
“Shhh.” He kissed her silent. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’d like to try it tonight. I think I can rebound the sexual energy I harvest back to you.”
“What? No! You’ll die if you don’t have enough.”
“I’ll keep as much as I need. If I return the excess to you, that’s less energy I take back to the Underworld, and the less I further the Host’s goals.”
Autumn relaxed. “Okay. Let’s try it. What do I have to do?”
Irdu gave her a wicked smile and hoisted her legs over his shoulders. “Just enjoy yourself.”
When she came, clutching both of Irdu’s horns while his face was buried between her thighs, she felt her own pleasure, and then a surge of power rolled through her. Like a rolling blackout, it spread from the core of her body outwards, taking every sense offline until she was plunged into utter darkness.
And then everything exploded. She was a being of pure sensation—no thought, no emotion, just total, unadulterated pleasure.
But alongside the pleasure, a shadow loomed. It twined around her, insinuating itself into the goodness. Spikes of pain radiated through her, flickering hot and cold. The darkness flickered and strobed. She was surrounded by hollow-eyed faces, and then she wasn’t. The darkness began to resolve into shapes and figures, flickering in and out of visibility. As the cold constriction intensified around her, the shapes came into focus—a massive, sprawling city.
Smoky, dark, crumbling buildings spidered and sprawled across a jagged, craggy landscape of broken black rock split with deep, irregular fissures. In the very center—a tower. Made of blocks of black stone, a mass of bodies toiled across its every surface like ants on a mound. Fire belched from forges at the tower’s base. Demonic overseers circled the tower on leathery black wings. From inside the tower, an insidious power radiated—the source of the cold that was twining even tighter around Autumn, sinking into her…
“Autumn!”
She snapped abruptly back to herself. Irdu was clutching her arms, staring down at her with wide-eyed alarm.
“Irdu?”
“Are you alright?” He ran his hands frantically over her body, peering into her eyes, listening for her heartbeat.
“I think so.” She pushed herself up, feeling bruised and achy.
“What happened? What did you feel?” Irdu asked urgently, anxiously propping pillows behind her.
She’d seen the Underworld. She knew it with the same certainty that told her there was a way to save Irdu. He was trapped in servitude to another tyrant—building yet another tower.
“I’m alright,” she told him. “I didn’t expect such… an experience.”
“It was too much. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to give you something—”
Even though she’d just had the wildest orgasm of her life, she felt an acute need to repay the favor. She wanted to make Irdu come, and she wanted to make him do it without depending on her pleasure for it. They’d proven he could come before her—now she wanted to see if he could come without bringing her with.
She broke away from the pillow nest Irdu had built around her and crawled onto Irdu, using her weight to drive him onto his back. He blinked up at her, perplexed.
“Now I have a gift for you,” she told him, and began kissing her way down his chest.
“Autumn, this isn’t necessary.” He reached for her, tried to lift her head, but she swatted his hands away.
“No touching,” she told him in a silky growl.
He flushed high on his cheekbones, his skin darkening to dusky lavender. His expression was equal parts bewildered and aroused. He liked when she took control. He’d told her as much, in subtler ways—insisting he belonged to her, and making her say it. So, she used it against him.
“You’re mine.” Her tongue slid over the golden barbell piercing in one nipple. A faint tremor ran beneath his skin, and she felt it in her lips. “You’ll do as I say, because you want to please me. Isn’t that right?” She brought her lips to his other nipple and flicked her tongue over the peaked nub. When he didn’t answer her, she bit him.
His back arched, lifting her with his body. “Ah!” He gasped. “I’m yours!”
Appeased, she licked the spot she’d bitten, and continued tasting her way down his body. When she reached his cock, he was hard and ready. The three big barbells studding the underside of his shaft beckoned to her tongue. She tasted each one individually, and with each one, Irdu trembled and writhed.