How to Love a Blue Demon

by Story, Sherrod

  “My God,” she breathed. “He looks like he’s dead.”

  For one moment, Eyoen’s heart actually stopped beating he was so shocked, then he was ecstatically happy. It was her! His Cass. But then she began to cry, and his soul dipped as waves of her sadness washed over his battered form.

  He wished with all his heart that he could comfort her, but he could do nothing, say nothing; he couldn’t even lift his bedamned hand to stroke her curly black hair.

  “Leave it to you, you idiot,” she cried to him. “Only you would be silly enough to get hit by a cab.”

  Was that what had happened to him? He’d been hit by a car. But then Eyoen realized what this meant. He was in her lover’s body. The Fates had been cruel and kind all in the same moment. Her lover was dead, and now he was her lover.

  “They said he would be okay. It was touch and go at first, but he’s rallied in the last half an hour. He’s strong. Aside from the head injury, he’d relatively unscathed. Superficial cuts and bruises. Poor thing. I’ve had to cancel all his appointments for the next few weeks.”

  Cass glared at Paulette, Lee’s agent, who had followed them into the room.

  “Why the fuck are you talking about work at a time like this? Who gives a shit about those jobs!” and that was the last thing she said for awhile.

  Cass refused to leave his side, Eyoen realized happily. Eventually Paulette left, as did Priti, Cass’ companion and someone called Boyd, the bodyguard if he wasn’t mistaken. But Cass stayed. She’d pulled a chair over and was leaning on the side of his bed, his hand in hers.

  Eyoen never would have thought he’d be so happy to be mute, incapacitated and in pain, but he was, and all because she was touching him.

  She sighed then, and his nose tingled at the sweet scent of her breath. She’d eaten candy earlier. He’d heard her crunching it before the smell of peppermint touched him.

  “I was going to break up with you this week,” she told him softly.

  Eyoen’s heart jumped in alarm. What?

  “But I won’t leave you until you’re okay, Lee-Lee. I’m not in love with you anymore, but I do love you. I’ll always love you. My sweet boy. Get well for me, hear? Get well. Wake up and like me,” she laughed softly. “But don’t love me. Let that knock on the head change your personality so that we can be friends, but not lovers, okay?”

  Absolutely not! He wanted to yell at her. They would be lovers. He would see to it. Furthermore, he would make her fall back in love with him. He sent her a little suggestion to keep talking. He needed as much information as possible. The thought of her leaving him had his human heart thudding erratically.

  “Calm yourself or the hospital staff will come and make her leave,” Rierdane cautioned.

  Eyoen obeyed.

  Cass barely needed the little nudge he gave her. He could sense the affection she had for him, for Lee. But it was as she said, platonic. She went on to tell him that while the sex between them had always been good, lately it had grown just the tiniest bit predictable. Not boring per say, she hastened to tell him, as though he were awake, just not terribly exciting.

  “You know how when people have been together for a long time, and they get comfortable with each other and stop trying? That’s how I feel. The only thing you ever get excited about these days is drinking,” she told him, a hint of scorn in her deep voice now. “And that shit’s gettin’ real played. I got nothin’ against a body having a drink now and then, but almost every day? Bore-ring. I don’t understand you anymore. You’re looks are your stock in trade; it’s stupid of you to abuse your body this way.”

  Eyoen agreed. He’d never understood demon’s who had to partake of Cyani ale and flower wines every day. There were no lasting affects like alcoholism, but it had been known to cause an otherwise upstanding demon to act like a complete nuisance in public.

  In all the years he’d been watching Cass, he’d only ever seen her drunk once, maybe twice, and those times she’d been more tippled than intoxicated. She was so cute in those moments. She laughed a lot and made faces, talked in funny voices. One had been like a small feathered animal humans called a duck.

  She’d grown sleepy, and in his mind’s eye he could see her chin on hand, her eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He sighed mentally, enjoying the quiet, and the heat and scent of her next to him. They would be happy together, he told himself, not realizing his thoughts had already shifted toward the permanent, though his time in this body was finite.

  He knew sexually they would be glorious together. He also looked forward to talking with her. She was intelligent and funny, stimulating to him in a way no other female had ever been before. She would love his star, and his father and siblings. His mother he wasn’t so sure about. He loved her of course, but she was certainly an acquired taste. Of course, her flightiness couldn’t be any more exasperating that dealing with someone so vain they were perennially called Priti, could it?

  He chuckled inside his head, wishing he could hold her hand. Being incapacitated was a ridiculous waste of time. Humans were so frail. Not that his people were invulnerable to harm, but they were certainly made of hardier stuff. Plus, even the lowest demon caste possessed some healing ability.

  Only the poorest, most wretched souls suffered physical infirmity, and wherever his father found those demons he took them in hand, found them work and got them straight. Even the elderly remained hardy until they just wore out after about 1,000 years or so. His own sire was almost 600 years old, and showed no signs of slowing down. Of course, the aristocracy was almost another breed altogether, possessing a different skin, and various degrees of magic.

  Soon, Eyoen told himself. Soon he would hold her the way he’d dreamed of doing for so long. He’d stroke that long, brown body, caress her full breasts, rub his face into the little belly she occasionally poked at while she was jogging on her treadmill or outside. He liked that softness in her. The firm roundness of her ass, the slender, muscled legs, it was all wonderful, but that tiny belly had always captivated him. She called it her candy pouch, since candy was the only bad thing she ate on a semi regular basis. He would treat her to all manner of sweets when they went back to his star.

  He felt his battered body stir as he imagined stripping off her perennial jeans and t-shirt. Yes, by Gods he would get her naked at the soonest opportunity. He’d lay her on her lovely back and toss the little black cotton panties she usually wore aside. He knew that from obsessively watching The Box. The bra would go next.

  His father had come in once while he was watching her. He’d begun to complain about the amount of time Eyoen spent watching Cass.

  “You want to do nothing else it seems,” the King observed. “If it weren’t for the fact that you still visit your houris I’d be worried,” he’d said, a silently laughing Rierdane in the background.

  But one time he hadn’t known his sire was there, and the King had watched Cass shower before Eyoen realized he wasn’t alone and waved the Owe crystal into silent darkness.

  “I can see why you are so enamored,” his sire had said quietly, and then diplomatically left, knowing his son was chafing to watch The Box again lest he miss a moment of Cass.

  She’d just come in from a run outdoors, and as was her custom after exercising she stayed in the shower for awhile letting the hot water soothe her tired muscles. She always pushed herself. He liked that about her, that she wasn’t afraid to ‘go hard’ as she called it.

  She’d picked up a round cake of pale orange soap and sniffed it appreciatively. He entertained himself for hours thinking about what scent it might be. He watched barely breathing as she began to wash herself. Stroking white suds over her slim arms and legs, she’d treated him to a lovely, illicit picture of her mons by stretching and washing at the same time. She sighed as she bent from the waist and cleaned her feet without bending her knees. He could tell by looking at her that the stretch along the back of her legs and thighs, the lovely smooth curve of her high round ass felt good.
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br />   She’d used a rough-sided sponge to scrub her knees and elbows and feet where the brown skin was just a bit darker. His mind drifted back to the way her lovely, long-fingered hands had washed her front next, cupping her large breasts as she soaped them and then her belly. He couldn’t wait to lick inside the shallow dent of her navel.

  He’d watched breath held as she washed herself between the legs. She kept her pussy hair very short. He’d watched her trim it often standing with legs spread over the toilet. After her shower she laid down for a nap, sliding between the sheets naked and falling instantly to sleep.

  He’d wanted desperately to slide inside her sleepy, shower damp warmth while she was soft and naked and pliant. Now he stifled a moan; he craved her. It was why he’d petitioned tirelessly to get an Earth visa. He’d endured hours of lectures from his sire, about the dangers of interspecies marriage, the difficulties she would have acclimating herself to life on the star, the problems he would have even getting her to believe that he was from somewhere outside the known universe.

  His sire had pointed out the failed missions of his ancestors who had visited other planets and ended up locked in asylums or killed by scared mobs accusing them of witchcraft. Eyoen countered every objection. Pointing out the couples who occupied the star who were from different worlds, and the healthy offspring they’d produced. He called on these married friends – he’d made a point to befriend them all – to give testimony on how they’d merged their lives and overcome differences. He cited the accuracy of space travel, the infallibility of their technology and innovation. Ironically these were projects his sire had successfully sponsored, never knowing that his own son would take advantage of the miracles of modern science to leave home for a destination billions of miles and several planets away.

  “And what if she does not love you?” His sire asked. “What if she does not even like you?”

  Here his mother had jumped to his aid.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, my King. Who in the stars could resist my beautiful son?” And he’d grinned as she stretched on tiptoe to pinch his cheek, bending down to sweep her into a hug that left her feet dangling a good foot off the ground for several minutes.

  Cass would love him. He would make sure of it. He had no choice, for he knew with certainty that he loved her, and would love no other until his death.

  Chapter five

  Lee/Eyoen was released from the hospital two days later. He was walking pitifully slow, and he was black and blue and covered in bandages, but the hospital staff was agog at the speed of his recovery. They hadn’t wanted to let him go, but Eyoen had pleaded with Cass, ruthlessly employing the pout he’d watched his host use on her to great effect, and she’d gone to bat for him.

  “It’s lucky Lee has no family,” Rierdane said. His servant had been keeping him company in his mind, informing him of anything he felt was worthy of his attention. “He’s what they call an orphan, someone with no living relatives. Essentially, he’s alone in the world save for the family he creates or the friends he makes.”

  Eyoen, with six brothers and three sisters, countless uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews and relatives within-the-law, couldn’t imagine such a thing. Family was everything on the star, but he knew that was not always the case on Earth. It was one of the saddest things he’d observed about the planet.

  “You wanna go home or come with me to this gig?” Cass asked him. She’d postponed the Univision session to remain at his bedside.

  “I would like to go with you,” He said, eyes running over her tall curvy body for the fiftieth time since he’d laid eyes on her that day.

  “Sure you won’t be too tired?” she asked.

  He shook his head, though he was already weary. Human weakness! Bah.

  “I’d cancel, but they’ve already been good about rescheduling, and I still got that damn shoot tomorrow.”

  She’d insisted he stay with her while he recuperated, reasoning there was no one to take care of him at his place. At least, she thought she’d insisted. He’d never had any intention of staying anywhere else, and he had a feeling the real Lee wouldn’t have spent much time in his own home either.

  “Tell me about what we’re doing.”

  “We’re going to do a live set for Univision. Album sales show my fan base is growing quickly in Spanish speaking countries and among Hispanic markets here in the States, so I want to acknowledge them. Shouldn’t be more than a few hours. I’m only doing a few songs, but you let Priti know if you get tired before we finish, and we’ll get you home, ok?”

  He shook his head yes, though there was no way he would miss a moment of his first time seeing her perform live. A cushioned chair was found somewhere and dragged to the side of the stage for him, and he enjoyed the burble of Spanish from the workers flitting here and there.

  Cass knew a little of the language, and had used her few phrases to charm the station execs who’d greeted her. She used a few more phrases as she sang, translating a few of her lyrics to rapturous applause.

  He sat grinning, so tired in his borrowed body he could barely clap, but enthralled as she sang and played her guitar. He could hear the conversations that flowed behind him. Discussions ranged from disbelief at her skill – apparently it wasn’t usual for a woman to be able to play the guitar as well as she did – to gleeful enjoyment at her voice – she sounded even better live than the studio album! one man insisted.

  “Quiero algo beber, por favor,” he said to a woman nearby holding a clipboard.

  “Si, si que quieres?” she asked him, and rushed off to get his 7Up.

  “I didn’t know you knew Spanish, Lee,” Priti commented, then went back to watching the show.

  “Be careful, sire,” Rierdane cautioned suddenly. “Lee did not know Spanish.”

  He does now, he told his servant, smiling as he sipped the cold soda. He savored the taste; he’d had some in the hospital and liked it.

  “How is it?” Rierdane asked, curiously.

  Sweet, and it tickles, he said of the carbonation. I shall bring some home for you.

  But his pleasure in the soda quickly faded. Lee – he’d tried to insist that Rierdane call him Lee so that he could acclimate himself to his role; Rierdane just laughed – had a problem. He was enjoying Cass’ performance so much, he’d grown hard.

  Eyoen tried to take deep breaths, but his body would not relax. She was singing a very sexy love song, he realized, as he processed the lyrics and absorbed a story of making love in a secret place. In this place, she said, no one would be able to see as she stroked her lover until he could hear no sound, see no light, and feel nothing but her love making his heart pound.

  Only it wasn’t just his heart that was pounding, Eyoen thought, slightly panicked. His borrowed cock was twitching mightily too. Casually, he folded his hands over his lap and crossed his legs, despite a sharp pain lancing up his right thigh. Thankfully, she trilled into silence, but he realized he hadn’t gotten a reprieve. If anything Cass’ guitar playing was even more evocative than her voice. Her hands flew over the strings, stroking, plucking, strumming fast, then slow, then fast again. She riffed the scales, up, down, turning musical tricks until he was all but panting, and as he looked around he realized he wasn’t the only male affected.

  Mouths were open all around the stage. An audience had grown until people completely surrounded them, but there wasn’t much sound. Even the conversations had stilled when her playing grew intense. Men shifted, more than one adjusted himself in his pants, and Eyoen realized that Cass held a bit of magic in her music.

  Her voice, her guitar mastery, the way she held her head as she sharply cut off a soaring note, tilted her neck as she effortlessly trilled high registers, or lowered her chin as she growled out some bottom feeder bass. She was intoxicating. If he hadn’t already loved her, he would have fallen hard sitting there in the shadows of her gift.

  She did one more fast number, and then Lucky was shepherding them out. Boyd helped him to his feet
– he was miserably weak and stiff from sitting for hours – and shored him up as they left.

  “Thank you,” he told the big man, who shrugged and smiled slightly as he buckled his seat belt for him and thumped him carefully on the shoulder.

  “Home for you,” Cass said, worriedly, stroking a lock of blonde hair off his brow. “You’re so pale you’re practically gray. And that’s saying something under all those damn bruises. You should have gone straight home to bed. I’m a terrible nurse.”

  “But you’ll take good care of me at home won’t you?” He asked softly.

  Cass turned away from the itinerary Lucky was showing her to laugh at him. “You better believe it, daddy. One more stop for radio for me, but its beddie bye for you.”

  He wished he was already abed, he was that tired, but no physical inconvenience could tear him from her side. At the radio station where she was stopping in, she tried to kiss him goodbye and tell the driver to take him home. When he refused she tried to order him to rest in the car, but he would not be moved, not wanting to miss a moment with her. He was so weak, Boyd was practically carrying him, but he laughed and had a wonderful time.

  Cass charmed the radio hosts effortlessly, making the callers laugh with delight as she teased them, answered their questions and granted a request for her to sing part of her latest hit acapella. The hour passed quickly, and he was thankful, though he’d enjoyed every moment. He was beyond exhausted. He was using some of his powers just to stay on his feet.

  “You comin’ out with us?” Lucky asked.

  Cass shook her head. “Not tonight. Tell the kids I’m sorry, but I gotta take care of my baby,” she stroked his hair gently, and his eyes closed in pleasure at her touch. “Hold on, Leelee, I know you’re tired. We’ll be home soon. Mama Cass gon’ fix you dinner and feed you like a baby before I tuck you in.”

  She spoke as though she was joking, but he knew she meant every word, and he couldn’t wait. He dozed on the way home, and once there, after Boyd had installed him on a long, plush couch, she insisted the others go out, leaving them alone.