How to Love a Blue Demon

by Story, Sherrod

  He grabbed her by the back of the neck a few times when she veered off in the wrong direction and rerouted her. She’d seen fathers do the same thing to their little blue offspring in the market. Once he’d swooped her into his arms to walk over a muddy patch of gravel in the road. When they walked back across that same patch a few hours later, it had been repaired. When she pointed it out he casually said that he’d had someone take care of it.

  She couldn’t resist him. He was stunning. He thought nothing of tossing her over his shoulder or slapping her ass, resting his palm there as he walked along with her peering curiously at things even upside down. Thankfully, Eyoen saved most of his dominance for the bedroom. Otherwise Cass figured they’d probably exist in one of his magic bubbles. But inside his suite he had no boundaries, and she wanted none.

  The lovemaking remained incredible. Cass had already written a song about it for her next album. She was even thinking of releasing it as the first single. She often had feelings like this about her work, a knowing that had yet to fail her. She knew the public would love the song. It was dripping with sex, and she might even fuel the flames by having Eyoen be the romantic lead in the video.

  All Cass knew was she was sprung. Maybe it was the careless way he’d kiss her breathless as they walked along, not caring that people stared avidly. Maybe it was the way he touched her, Cass couldn’t put a finger on it, but he was now a part of her. She woke smiling knowing his face would be there on the pillow beside her. She went to sleep smiling, not just because of sundry orgasms but because he was holding her close. Every single day he showed her again and again that he loved her.

  And he rarely said it. He might throw out the occasional, “my dear, I do adore you,” and kiss her soundly, but he didn’t need to. It was obvious. Even if she didn’t know, if he didn’t make it cellophane clear, she could read his love for her in other’s faces.

  Sometimes she had to fight down an irrational fear that something was coming to uproot everything. Like a pessimist who doesn’t trust when everything is going well, she began to feel as though she too was rubbing her chest to soothe an imaginary wound.

  Still, she was having the time of her life. Eyoen would mention somewhere or something that he wanted her to see, and once she agreed, poof, they’d be there. He showed her things so beautiful she lamented that she had no camera. But the King would not allow any pictures because nothing she shot existed to anyone she might show back on Earth. Thus, she was having Eyoen’s baby sister paint her something to take home. She was fabulously talented.

  The painting would be a memento, and it would give Priti and Boyd and Lucky and Tommy some reference point for her ‘vacation.’ She wasn’t sure she’d be coming back, and she was trying hard to remember everything she touched. She pressed flowers into a book of the region the King gave her. Beautiful blooms in vibrant colors unlike anything found on Earth, but first she scattered the flowers over Eyoen’s naked body. The redolent blooms left their scent behind, and she took great pleasure in skimming her nose over those places, and tracing their shapes on his flesh with one long finger.

  He took her to forests where the trees had electric blue trunks and black metallic leaves with pale orange flowers. They ate neon pink fruit plucked from rose red vines. Jyut tasted like a cross between a lemon and a cherry, but there was no bitterness only an explosion of sweet and the sensation of fading warmth on the tongue.

  Eyoen teased her warningly that if she ate too many she would become pregnant. It was the fruit Cyani women ate to aid fertility. Her answer was to pack her cheeks to bulging and spend the next 10 minutes chewing the mouthful down before she pulled him down on top of her and with a wordless suggestion prompted him to nail her enthusiastically into the soft, fragrant brown and gold grass.

  Eyoen told her the grass was wonderful food for their cattle, a placid animal that was the size of at least two cows. And that it also was the most prominent ingredient in the bricks they used to create the buildings, after the cows got through with it.

  Cass had wrinkled her nose. “Why don’t they stink?”

  He laughed. “There are a few other ingredients, my dear.”

  There was no one to see except the Yenta, little birds that looked like puff balls with tails that flew in formation over their heads.

  “How do they do that,” she wondered. “I see birds do it at home, but there’s always one or two stragglers, outliers who don’t go completely with the flow. These birds are perfect.”

  “It might be my mother’s influence.”

  “Huh?”

  He gestured to the top of the next hill. They were lying at the bottom of one gentle slope, surrounded by the faint scent of chocolate that came from the grass.

  Now, she tried to burrow into the grass to hide. “Did she see us?” she cried as his mother raised her hand at his wordless greeting.

  Eyoen manfully controlled his laughter. “No. Do you think I would allow my mother to watch us make love?”

  “Well, what’s she doing here?”

  “She swears that this one flower that she likes to make perfume from only grows where I am, or where I’ve been so she finds me to look for the flower.”

  “That’s kinda stalkery.”

  He laughed. “I suppose so, but she keeps her distance and never interferes, no matter what she sees.”

  Cass’ mouth fell open. “Has she seen you fucking?”

  Eyoen laughed. “I hope not. But you have to understand, my mother, women on Cyanus period, they’re not shocked by sex. A mother who walked in on a son mid bout likely would laugh and bring refreshments. It’s just our culture and the way women are perceived and valued.”

  “That’s cool and creepy all at the same time.”

  Eyoen nodded and grinned. “She makes an absolute fortune from that perfume.”

  “It’s all about commerce.”

  “Yes, very much so. We’re a star filled with salesmen.”

  “Only not the smarmy, slick, asshole version. You guys seem to focus intently on value.”

  “Yes, certainly. To offer a shoddy product is to curry great disfavor and to risk your reputation. And your reputation as a demon of worth could literally be life and death as well as livelihood for you.”

  Based on the extreme success of the groceries Eyoen had brought back from Chicago, one of his brothers was hatching plans to ship American goods in and sell them to the citizens. Of course, only the wealthy could afford strange off planet luxuries like 7Up and turkey bacon and lemonade and pretzels. His family stood to make a mint.

  Chapter sixteen

  It was three days before Eyoen realized he hadn’t seen his father, which was strange. The King hadn’t been at meals. Beyond the one visit to the old demon’s home, he hadn’t poked his nose into Cass rehearsals – and everybody else had – hadn’t popped in to check on his grandchildren. He hadn’t even seen him with his mother, which was even more strange. His parents were not absentee souls. Any time any one of their children went anywhere – even if it was only to the far reaches of the star – for any length of time, once they returned it was all eyes on them.

  His mother had to pet the newly returned child excessively – had it not been for the restorative powers of the bath in his suite Eyoen’s cheeks might have been chapped so often did his mother kiss and pat his face – and his father usually asked a billion and one questions and scanned the individual thoroughly for any signs of misuse. All this despite the fact that Eyoen knew for a fact his father often sent emissaries – spies like Rierdane – with his children whenever they ventured farther than the boundaries of the royal compound for more than a sun rise.

  “I’m going to have a word with my father,” he told Cass. “Can you amuse yourself for a bit?”

  She smirked at him and went back to playing her guitar. She was working on her set list for the next concert they were planning.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  His father wasn’t in the throne room, his office,
the kitchen, the armory or the square where they held public meetings. It was only after Eyoen opened up his senses and employed a little magic that he was able to locate his sire, in the kitchen gardens of all places.

  “My King.”

  “Son.”

  His father’s voice seemed weak and thready, and he sat a low seat, slumped as though he hadn’t the energy to lift his head.

  Eyoen moved quickly closer, alarmed, and scowled when he found his father with both feet planted in the ground between two rows of Cyani potatoes. Literally, he was buried up to the ankle in dirt.

  “What on Earth? Are you ill?”

  King Carlow laughed, and the tight feeling in Eyoen’s chest eased at the mirth in his sire’s voice. “What on Earth? It would seem you’ve been too long away from home.”

  “What’s going on, father?”

  The King merely smiled.

  Eyoen scowled. This was the first time he’d seen his father up close since before he left Cyanus for Earth, and it seemed as though the King had aged years in his absence. There were lines on his face, and his golden eyes seemed duller, narrowed with fatigue. Fatigue that should not be.

  “Tell me,” he begged. “Are you ill?”

  “No, my son. Merely tired. More tired than I’ve ever been in my existence.”

  Eyoen’s eyes widened to almost double their size. He had never heard such a thing. Fatigue was a symptom of weakness. His father was not weak. “What do you mean? Why would you be tired?”

  The King stared into his eyes so long, Eyoen grew scared. His heart actually skipped a beat when his sire looked away. “Because I’m fighting, Eyoen.”

  Eyoen looked around, knowing he would see nothing, and then asked, “Fighting who?”

  King Carlow laughed softly. “I’m fighting for your life, and for your brothers and sisters. I’m fighting for your mother. For all our people. And I’m fighting alone.”

  “Against what?” Eyoen demanded. “Who is this enemy? Tell me so that I might fight beside you.”

  “No, my son. I will not involve you or your brothers yet. The situation is too delicate. I dare not expose you. I may still triumph over this evil.”

  Eyoen stared into his father’s eyes and for the first time in his entire life knew that he lied.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said quietly. So quietly, no one but the King could have heard him. To suggest, to even think such a thing was treason, but Carlow merely shrugged.

  “You are my son. You know my heart.”

  “Then tell me! Tell me how I can help you, my King.”

  Eyoen’s frantic heart beat slowed as a spark of life shone in the King’s eye in response to his passion.

  “I worship you,” the King whispered.

  Eyoen thought he might fall dead from shock. The King worshiped no one! It was he who was worshiped by all.

  “Please, father. I beg you. Tell me what is wrong? Are we under attack? Is it the Sithians?”

  The Sithians were a neighboring demon tribe that occasionally tried to cause trouble for Cyanus over resources. They lacked the discipline of the blue demons, and when their people grew hungry they thought nothing of raiding and stealing to feed their poor.

  Carlow tolerated it because for the most part the Sithians were non violent demons. Their idea of battle was the Earth equivalent of a slap to the cheek. And now the King laughed, dismissing this threat out of hand. Eyoen didn’t calm at hearing that it wasn’t their rowdy neighbors causing the problems. If it wasn’t them it must be someone worse.

  “No. The Sithians make more trouble for themselves than they ever will for Cyanus. But we are under attack. I should have known that you would figure it out eventually. Your brothers often can’t see things placed right in front of them, but you were always observant.

  “I’ve always known you were special.” The King laughed. “When you were two you turned every stick of furniture in your room pink. The walls, the floors, every blanket, even all of your clothes, all pink. The exact shade of your mother’s lips because you liked the way she looked when she smiled.”

  Eyoen stared.

  “At five, you levitated three of your brothers in the air and wouldn’t let them down after they teased one of your sisters and made her cry. Then, when Rierdane finally caught you, because of course you ran to avoid being punished, you let them fall on their hard heads rather than set them down easily.

  “At six you and Linai – his then two year old youngest sister – went exploring. You dug a hole in the garden. We followed you through the three feet high tunnel you’d created and found you 25 miles away in the next parish, eating berries off a nine foot tall eue tree you’d climbed, with her clinging to your back.

  “Your mother and I had the shade’s own time keeping you out of trouble, though you were always pleasant about everything. You knew you were doing wrong, but you managed to have a reasonable explanation for why it was perfectly okay for you to break the rules, and bring anyone in the vicinity along with you.

  “Your mother barely let me spank you.” Carlow smiled sadly. “She always claimed she couldn’t bear the sadness in your eyes, so like mine, when she tried to discipline you. She was the only one who could keep you from playing tricks.”

  He didn’t know why his father spoke this way, but Eyoen could not help being affected. First he had never heard his sire speak of him nostalgically. Second, he could feel the pressure surrounding the King ease off with every reminiscence. In turn, he breathed easier as a result.

  Suddenly a memory came, of him being carried by his mother in the garden. He’d touched a buhle bug and turned it into a bird which had landed on his tiny finger, and he presented it to his mother as a gift. She’d been delighted with his gift, but he remembered her telling him to keep the secret between them.

  “Yes,” his father said, shocking him yet again. “Your mother knew that it would be dangerous if people knew how powerful you were at such a young age, and that you possessed powers other demons do not. Not even other royal members in your own family.”

  “You can read minds?” he breathed. It was a secret skill he’d kept from everyone. He’d cautioned Cass not to reveal their shared ability as well.

  His father gave him a look like, really?

  “Why did you never tell me?”

  “For the same reason you never told me,” said the King. “Some things are best kept secret. If you reveal your hand too early you lose a strategic advantage.”

  “Reveal your hand?”

  “It’s an Earth phrase. I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

  Eyoen shook his head no. He’d never heard it before. “What else can you do, father?”

  Carlow shrugged, as if to say, what do you want? Then he returned to his tale. “When you were small, you weren’t always willing to heed your mother’s cautions. I had to bind your powers, but even that didn’t last long. When you hurt Tegyr, I knew the binding had faded. That’s why I sent you away.” His father eyed him sadly, and Eyoen felt again the sharp sting of shame. “You are far more powerful than I am, my son. And I am not the only one who knows it.

  “Our enemy Unjel would bind your power as well, but he means to trap you in order to harness your strength to help him enslave other worlds, including ours. The Cyani demons are not warriors by nature, despite the strength of our army. For centuries I have worked basically alone to rout our enemies, and my peers who have helped me in this battle are weary or have fallen.”

  Suddenly Eyoen recalled his father’s distress at the death of long time friend Ovbec. Rierdane had passed along the news while he was still on Earth in Lee’s body. He’d loved the old man as a young demon and had respected him mightily as an adult. Now, delving into the King’s mind, he learned it was after Ovbec’s death that his father had begun to show his age, often looking drawn and tired at the end of a day’s council meetings.

  “Is the council –”

  Carlow nodded. “They are the most powerful Cyani demons i
n the realm, and we are greatly diminished in numbers. This battle has taken more demon life than any during my reign.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “Nothing. Take your Cass and show her our star. Sire a grandchild for me. Be safe forever, forget all that I’ve said.”

  Eyoen realized that his father was wishing aloud.

  “What would you have me do?” he repeated.

  Carlow looked at him with his eyes. They were the exact same shape and shade, held the same straight ink black lashes, even the same expressions. For the first time in his life Eyoen glimpsed a hint, the barest hint, of fear. It shocked him to his core.

  “Fight,” his father said quietly.

  Eyoen bowed. That went without saying.

  “This fight will be like nothing you’ve ever known, Eyoen. You have never killed a man.”

  Eyoen smiled. Why would he do that? There was no need. Ever since he discovered his strange, unwieldy powers, he’d done everything in his power to avoid that.

  “I need not take life to incapacitate our enemies.”

  “These enemies are different, my son. They will not play by the rules of war. They don’t care for honor or good conduct or any of the laws that govern our home. They seek only to subjugate us, to rout us from our lands and destroy us. It’s as simple as that. You will have to kill or be killed.”

  Eyoen shook his head in confusion. He wasn’t so innocent that he didn’t know such behavior existed, but he had no personal experience with the kind of evil his father spoke of. Nor did he fully understand how it could exist. As a prince of the realm he was protected. He had always been protected, not just by his father but by his older brothers.

  Life had never been hard for him. He’d never known the desperation of hunger, never seen anyone abused, not a family member, not even a peasant. In his presence, everyone was always on his or her best behavior.