How to Love a Blue Demon

by Story, Sherrod

  They went to a place called Marshalls next. Eyoen happily gave his opinion as Cass perused the housewares section and purchased several pots, kitchen tools and several jars of gourmet jam, salsa and a package of shortbread biscuits that smelled so good, Eyoen opened them immediately.

  Delicious, he told Rierdane before he could ask, and added another box to their cart.

  “These are good too,” Priti said, handing him a box of cinnamon ones.

  He put them in the cart, then added the chocolate variety.

  “Okay,” Cass warned. “I don’t need Paulette on my ass if you heal up fat.”

  He just laughed.

  Priti went off to examine the dress racks, while Cass perused the workout gear. He wandered toward the men’s section but paused beside the jewelry counter.

  “Can I help you?”

  He smiled at the servant behind the counter and nodded.

  “I’d like to buy my lady a gift. But I have to do it fast before she comes over and sees me.”

  The woman nodded briskly. “Does she like gold, pearls?”

  He nodded. Who didn’t like gold?

  “Pearls are the white stones; they come from oysters,” Rierdane supplied when he drew a blank.

  Thank you, Eyoen said, thinking white stones would look great against Cass’ skin.

  The woman quickly pulled out two necklaces. One was a choker.

  He shook his head at it. Cass would hate the tight feeling around her throat. His hand while they were making love was fine, however.

  Rierdane laughed, and Eyoen mind scowled his servant into apologizing.

  He looked back and saw that Cass was still engrossed in a rack of sports bras.

  “She’s a musician,” he told the woman. “A free spirit. Very tall and beautiful. About your color.”

  The woman’s brows rose but she nodded and pulled out a long, thin gold chain.

  “What about this?”

  It was perfect, delicate but edgy with its gold horn charm like an elephant’s tusk.

  “You could add a few charms. Since she’s a musician she might like this.” The woman pulled out a little gold guitar with a diamond in its base. “That’s a real diamond.”

  Did they have fake diamonds? “It’s perfect. I’ll take it. Let’s have one more, please. Three is a better number.”

  The woman offered a gold music note, and when he nodded and pulled out his wallet she quickly removed the tags, boxed the jewelry and rang him up.

  “This too, please,” he tapped on the case over a large chunky gold cocktail ring for Priti.

  “Whatchu’ looking at?” Priti asked no sooner than he put away his wallet.

  He handed her the box with the cocktail ring. She opened it instantly and squealed as she put the ring on her finger. Eyoen used his powers to make it fit, and smiled as she stuck her hand out turning it this way and that to admire the beaten gold.

  “Excuse me,” Cass said with attitude. She grinned when he turned guiltily. “Why you buying gifts for a woman who’s not me?”

  He handed her the box with the necklace.

  She smiled so big she showed almost all of her teeth. “Thank you, baby! This is a nice surprise,” she said sincerely. She lifted the necklace out and stared at the little guitar swinging gently from the chain. “It’s lovely.”

  Eyoen slipped it over her head, adjusting the charms so they rested fetchingly against her plump cleavage.

  She watched his pale fingers against her breasts before she looked up. For a second his blue eyes seemed to blaze gold, and she frowned, but then he smiled and she smiled back.

  “This is the first time you’ve ever bought me a random gift,” she said, and his brows rose.

  As appreciative as he was for Lee’s unknowing generosity as host, it was apparent the man had not been a stellar companion. In fact, the more he learned, the more Eyoen thought him an idiot.

  Rierdane respectfully nodded his agreement. “Your gift is lovely, sire.”

  Thank you. I have much to do to make up for his neglect.

  “I’m not sure it’s correct to call it neglect, sire,” Rierdane said, obviously striving to be fair to the dead man. “Lee wasn’t mean spirited, and he did care for Cass, but she needs nothing. She has everything she wants, and she had everything he needed. It was easy for him to simply enjoy her company. She never asked him for anything, and she never demanded anything.”

  And that’s exactly what he gave her, nothing. It’s disgraceful. A demon should always provide.

  “Of course, I agree,” his servant soothed. “But here on this planet, where the women often have more than the men, things can be different,” Rierdane explained. “It’s not taboo for women to do for themselves here. It’s called being independent.”

  Eyoen considered that. On Cyanus, women did not work unless they wanted to. Many did, but most did not. They were content with their families and homes, and since there was very little poverty and crime – it was against all regulations to mistreat any female creature regardless of class – they did not have to struggle the way many females did on this planet. There were special penalties to be paid for abusing a woman of royal or Guard blood in particular, and endless taxes and fines that ensured women enjoyed fairly exalted status.

  Things that plagued Earth and other planets, rape, matricide, molestation, incest, domestic violence, on Cyanus these things were only theories in scrolls, whispers the lower classes used to scare demons straight should they step out of line.

  And the men allow it? He asked Rierdane. Surely there are some who rebel against this independence and do their duty.

  “There are indeed. Things were more like Cyanus on Earth a few decades ago. Men were primarily the providers and women the homemakers. But the work world and business environment changed. There was a war. Women demanded to be allowed to work. Many decided they were unhappy being under men’s thumbs and wanted to earn their own money so they could run their own lives.”

  Hmmm. It sounds like the men were cruel to their women. Devaluing their contributions, perhaps?

  “Exactly, sire. And other things,” Rierdane admitted reluctantly. “Of course, some men still provide in the manner to which we are accustomed. They are considered treasures now, old-fashioned. You would be considered that way. Women consider such men a rare catch or a find.”

  A find, huh? So be it. Eyoen was heartily against Cass paying for anything, lifting anything, fixing anything or wanting for anything. He knew she was capable. He also knew she was extremely well paid as an artist. But that didn’t matter to him. He had no problem with her playing music or acting in movies and the like. There were quite a few artisans on his star. Those female demons were also extremely well paid, their contributions to the general population revered in much the same way his Cass was adored by her fans and the public.

  That didn’t mean he ever wanted to see her open the wallet she carried. He knew from Lee’s memories that Cass had not grown up wealthy. She had always worked because she had to. She’d watched her mother work and struggle after her father died when she was very young. She saw nothing wrong with making or spending her own money.

  But Eyoen wanted her to take it easy, to let him pamper and treat her as she deserved. If that made him old-fashioned or outside the norm, fine.

  Behaving differently is fine for the other inhabitants of this dismal planet. But my Cass will be provided for by me.

  Rierdane nodded, offering a respectful bow before fading from his mind.

  “Come on, ya’ll. It is Sunday,” Priti said. “You know everything closes early. We still gotta go to Bloomingdale’s Home and Barney’s.”

  Feeding Cass’ sudden desire to feather her nest, Priti had talked her into visiting even more stores.

  “Do we have to go to Barney’s?” Cass asked, tucking her hand into his back pocket as Eyoen pushed her cart toward the checkout line.

  He leaned over to kiss her, his heart warming at the feel of her hand against his b
utt. He didn’t even hear Priti’s response.

  At Bloomingdale’s Home, Cass bought a beautiful crystal bar set, liquor decanters with cut glass tops, a martini mixer, stirrers, ice bucket, the works.

  “This will be gangster when we have company,” she told him. “We can go to Binny’s when we leave here and get some booze. Then you can have your cocktails at home. Though I haven’t seen you drink since the accident.”

  He kissed her before she could ponder that too closely, then Priti called her away to look at something.

  In the checkout line she whistled when the clerk told her the total.

  “Do you have a charge card with us?”

  Cass shook her head.

  “I’ve got it, baby.”

  When Cass gave him the stink eye, Eyoen faltered uncertainly. Something in her expression told him not to press the point.

  Rierdane –

  “I told you, sire. Cass is independent. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate your help. I have a feeling she wants to decorate her home herself.”

  What does that mean? I don’t understand. Why doesn’t she want my help? That’s my job!

  “But you’re not Lee,” Rierdane reminded him gently. “Furthermore, you are not married. Be cautious lest you overstep your bounds.”

  Bounds?

  “Boundaries,” Rierdane explained.

  Eyoen frowned. I do not care for boundaries, and I want none between my lady and me.

  “Be that as it may, you are not her prince, not yet. She has no reason to acquiesce to you in this manner. Be patient. Surely you can accustom her to the new order in due time.”

  Eyoen sighed. He didn’t like it, but he suppose he must play things her way, for now.

  “You get 10 percent off when you apply for a Bloomie’s card,” the salesman was saying.

  “What other benefits does it have?”

  The man talked about rewards points and certificates earned with points from every purchase.

  “Cass!” Priti appeared with a glass tray. “You should get this to hold everything.”

  “That’s nice,” Cass said, turning it over to see the price. She whistled again. “Damn! Now I know why I don’t like to shop.”

  “That’s an additional 30 percent off,” the clerk said, covering the phone with one hand; he was on the line with the credit people.

  “OK. That’s better,” she laughed.

  “They want to talk to you,” the clerk said, handing her the phone.

  Cass answered a few questions and was approved for her credit card.

  “You gotta go to Barney’s on your own,” she told Priti, who pouted. “Dude. We’re drowning in bags. This shit’s heavy. We’re takin’ a cab to the car. We’ll pick you up.”

  “All right. You want me to get your lipstick?”

  Cass nodded. “Oh, and get some of that silk stuff for my hair. You know the one?”

  “Bet.”

  “How does she walk so fast in those high heels?” Eyoen asked, admiring the sway of Priti’s hips as she strode off.

  Cass laughed, knowing exactly what he was looking at. “She was born in ‘em. Her feet hurt in flats. You hungry?”

  They had dinner at a place called Ben Pao and Boyd met them there.

  “How’s my baby?” he asked Priti, one hand rubbing her belly as he kissed her hello.

  “He fine,” she said.

  “I meant you,” he told her, and she laughed. If she’d said she was fine, he’d have said he meant the actual baby.

  That night Cass went to her studio to practice. She shrugged when Eyoen asked if he could come with her.

  “Won’t you be bored?”

  He shook his head.

  “I don’t care. But you know I’m working. Won’t be no talking,” she warned him.

  He nodded solemnly, recalling other times she’d said the same thing to him, and then later had to put him out when he kept interrupting her work to ask questions.

  This time he said not a word. Instead he sat in front of the laptop that stood on a small desk in the corner.

  What is this, he asked Rierdane. His servant explained that it was a computer and told him how to log onto the internet. He went to the search engine Rierdane recommended – Google – and clicked on a button that said Financials. Soon he was engrossed in money articles about the S&P 500, stocks, bonds and interest rates.

  We should buy some of this stock, he told his servant. I shall need dividends with which to provide for my lady. Having been to Bloomingdales I am no longer convinced that $5,000 will be sufficient to live all but the most basic lifestyle.

  “As you wish, sire,” Rierdane said, and they set up a brokerage account using the credit card information he’d memorized, and he bought several different stocks.

  Cass never said a word. She alternated between playing her guitar and scrawling things on papers stacked on a music stand.

  “She’s very talented,” Rierdane said.

  Yes, Eyoen thought proudly. She’s working on material for a new album. He’d picked this up in conversation. He longed to simply read Cass’ mind so that he could share in every thought and emotion. He’d recovered his powers after he healed, but he decided he would not enter her private thoughts without an invitation. He had a feeling it would offend her human sensibilities to know he had this power, so he would forgo it until she could approve his actions.

  He frowned as he saw her rub her belly for the second time in less than an hour.

  She looked up at him as though she sensed his eyes on her.

  “Belly ache,” she dismissed, returning to her guitar playing.

  “She has these belly aches quite often,” Rierdane commented, having no compunction about reading anyone’s mind; he’d made himself familiar with all of Lee’s thoughts.

  I’ll have to do something about that.

  There was a scratching at the door.

  “Can you let Bullet in for me?”

  Eyoen got up to let the dog in. The beast went over to his dog bed in the corner and lay down, head on paws as he watched his mistress.

  A little over an hour later, Cass rose and stretched. Bullet got up too, and came over wagging his tail.

  She bent to stroke the dog, rubbing his sides with both hands until his tongue lolled out and his eyes were nearly crossed with pleasure. Eyoen sighed; he understood completely.

  Someone knocked.

  “Come in.”

  “It’s TomTom,” Priti said, handing over a cell phone.

  “Hullo,” said Cass. She listened. “Who?” More listening. “He in town now?” she laughed. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him, but not tomorrow night. I gotta go to the studio. Natty says if I don’t stop dodging him he gon’ give my song away. I know. That mark be talkin’ a lotta shit, don’t he?” She laughed again. “Cool. Bye.”

  Cass handed Priti the phone and rubbed her belly again.

  “You okay?”

  Cass nodded, but Eyoen knew she wasn’t. He could feel her discomfort, and it grew as the evening wore on.

  Cass, who habitually went to bed at midnight and rose at 7:30 am damn near on the dot, went to lie down before 10 o’clock.

  Eyoen followed, as did Bullet. Cass whistled and the dog leapt up to lay over her feet. She lay on her back with a hand over her eyes.

  Priti knocked. “It’s TomTom.”

  Cass held out a hand without moving her arm from her arms. “Hit that lamp for me will you?”

  Priti raised her brows at Eyoen as he turned on the lamp while she turned off the overhead lights. He shrugged, pretending ignorance.

  “Yeah. What it look like? Yeah? How he get my name? Oh, for real? Send it over, I’ll look at it, but tell him if I do it, I’m not gon’ be hemmed up all day and night doin’ no one or two scenes. He gon’ have to get me in and out. I don’t give a shit, TomTom. Invent some other obligations, if you have to. I ain’t got patience for that.” Cass laughed, then winced. “Don’t make me laugh my belly hurtin’. No!” she ba
rked suddenly, and Bullet raised his head briefly before he returned it to his paws. “I’m not goin’ to see another fuckin’ doctor. Four bitches don’ told me the same shit. No!” She sighed loudly, obviously not liking what she was being told. “Fine, Tommy, when I get new symptoms. Until then, forget it. Bye.”

  Cass tossed the phone onto the bed. “Some director is filming a movie in Chicago in a few weeks, and he wants me to be in it.”

  “That’s great, my dear. What sort of movie?”

  “An action movie. I won’t be playing my guitar or singing. I’d have a real part and lines and everything.”

  “Sounds like a good opportunity for you.”

  She nodded, and apologized as she farted. “Sorry, Lee Lee. You don’t have to sleep in here tonight if you don’t want to.”

  He snorted. Her passing gas meant nothing to him. He wanted nothing more than to cure her.

  “You cannot, sire. There would be too many questions,” Rierdane said.

  I know that, Rierdane, Eyoen said grouchily; he shifted uncomfortably. Cass’ discomfort had become his pain. He could feel the pressure, could sense the blockage that kept her from using the bathroom and contributed to the buildup of gas that was bloating her belly. It beat at him as she gritted her teeth against it, and that was making her head ache. She rotated her jaw, trying to loosen it up and took some deep breaths to relax.

  After awhile she dozed, and so did he and the dog. At 1 am she woke. He heard the dog’s paws hit the rug, and listened to her pad into the bathroom and close the door. Bullet sat like a sentinel outside and looked at him expectantly.

  He waited a few minutes, until she’d sat on the toilet and cursed when nothing happened. She was running the faucet when he knocked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “I’m on the toilet.”

  “Is that a no?”

  There was a pause, then she laughed softly. “Come on in. I’m farting up a storm,” she told him. “But ain’t shit else poppin’.”

  “I can make you feel better.”

  “No, sire.” Rierdane said.