Until the Devil Weeps

by W E DeVore

  “Fuck you, Cincinnati.”

  “And that’s one of them. How did you guess?”

  Q laughed and elbowed him. “I’ll give you this, you are consistent.”

  “Slow and steady wins the race.”

  As they walked into Son of Perdition, Derek abruptly snapped his fingers and stop walking. “Thanks for the ride, you can go home.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Go home,” he repeated. “Meet me back at my house at nine tonight.”

  “For what?”

  “A party, angel.” He pulled her towards the acid green suede bench near the door and they sat. “We’re all stressed. We need to relax. You need to relax. When was the last time you had some fun… and not that candy-coated New Orleans level fun. I’m talking tour fun.”

  Q grinned, thinking about several parties Dark Harm had attended while on the road. “Miami with Ben.”

  Derek sighed in appreciation. “That a good night.”

  Derek, Fiona, and Q had broken away from the party at the oceanfront hotel with Ben and the rest of their bandmates. They’d all snuck down to the private beach. Fiona had convinced Q and Ben to strip to their underwear to swim out into the warm water. Q closed her eyes and felt the crashing ocean fight her body as she swam through the inrushing tide. The full moon had shone overhead, reflecting off the waves and making the night as bright as day. She remembered Derek and the rest of the band splashing through the water on the shore, playing like children in the surf; and Ben’s face as he smiled at her in the moonlight. Licking her lips, she tasted the salty kisses on her tongue and let out a jagged exhale.

  “God, I miss that man.”

  Derek took both of her hands and gave them a squeeze. “I can’t give you an ocean, but I do throw an excellent party. You in?”

  Holding her memory within her, she grinned at him. “Hell, yes, I am.”

  ◆◆◆

  Q arrived at Derek’s to find his second-floor condo awash with strangers. Loud music filled the room and she discovered the source to be Derek himself, standing behind a DJ rig. His nine-foot grand piano had been pushed into the safety of the far corner and Derek’s rig stood protectively in front of it.

  As soon as she walked in, Fiona wordlessly took Q’s wrist and dragged her through the crowd to the kitchen. She poured a shot of tequila into a rocks glass and splashed some champagne on top.

  “Slam it,” she instructed.

  “I will not,” Q argued. “The last time we did this, Paul and Nick made out with each other. They were both convinced the other one was the hottest chick they’d ever met, remember?”

  It was a Dark Harm tradition: tequila mixed with champagne to shoot you straight to another planet. Q had only done it once, after their Coachella performance and still wasn’t sure she’d ever recovered from the hangover.

  “Slam it,” Fiona insisted.

  Q scowled at her, but diligently covered the glass with her hand and slammed it down onto the counter. The bubbles in the champagne instantly foamed the concoction up to the top and she drank it down in one long swallow.

  Fiona howled in appreciation and poured herself a shot. “I am under strict instructions to get you fucked up.”

  Q’s head swam as the alcohol dulled her senses and she drank the shot of tequila Fiona handed her. “Super drunk, here we come.”

  Fiona picked up the bottle of champagne and the tequila. “Grab the glasses, let’s go get Derek.”

  Q did as she was told, knowing there was no sense in arguing, and seeing very little reason to bother with appearances; because getting as drunk as humanly possible seemed to her like the best idea in the world. As they threaded their way through the swarms of dancing bodies, Sanger walked in through the front door. His well-defined torso stretched the cloth of his thin grey t-shirt as his body flexed against it, making her heart race.

  Fiona let out a wolf-whistle. “Q, I know I’ve told you this before, but your puppy dog is fucking fine. The things I would do to that body of his.”

  Q blushed, remembering the things that she had done to Sanger’s body that afternoon. “What is he doing here?”

  “Derek invited him. He thought you’d want him here.” Fiona looked at Q and said, “You’re blushing. Why are you blushing?”

  Q unconsciously traced her lips with her fingertips and replied, “No, I'm not. Leave it be.”

  Fiona threw her arm over Q’s shoulders and steered her towards Sanger. “You dating?”

  “No,” Q said. “Of course, I’m not. I’m married.”

  Fiona paused and drank from the tequila bottle. “No, Q. You were married. Maybe a little hot action with a hot cop is what you need. Here…”

  She fished into the pocket of her green vinyl pants and handed Q a pill. “Take it,” she instructed.

  “What is it?” Q asked.

  “X. Now open up.”

  Q considered refusing, but her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, making it difficult to come up with a reason to turn it down. She popped the pill into her mouth and swallowed it down with the champagne from the bottle Fiona handed her. Sanger approached them and refused to make eye contact with Q. Fiona looked from Sanger to Q and back before taking a glass from Q’s hand and pouring a shot of tequila into it.

  “Champagne,” she said, like a surgeon asking for a scalpel. Q poured the liquid into the glass and Fiona covered the top with her hand, giving it a vigorous shake before passing it to Sanger. “Drink it.”

  He looked to Q for help and she said, “I’ve already had two and a hit of Ecstasy. Come on, cowboy. Let’s get fucked up. You wanted to split a bottle of tequila with me, didn’t you?”

  She could tell he wanted to argue with her as he held her gaze, but he drank down the alcohol in a long swallow.

  “Two?” he confirmed.

  Q nodded and he held out the glass to Fiona. She grinned at him and refilled it. After he drained it, Fiona led them to Derek’s DJ setup and fished into her pocket for another pill. She silently offered it to Derek. He bit it in half and gave her back the other portion before swallowing it down with the tequila she handed him.

  “I thought you liked to stay in control, Cincinnati,” Q shouted to him over the music.

  “I am in control, angel.”

  Before she could reply, Fiona took Q’s hand and led her to the dance floor. She held Q close and whispered into her ear, “Somebody’s losing a bet tonight.”

  Q giggled and pulled her near. Among the members of Dark Harm, there were several side bets that Derek would never get Q into his bed, no matter how hard he may try. Between Fiona and Derek, there was another bet as to who would get their way with Q first.

  During the course of the tour, Q and Fiona had developed a well-rehearsed game to make Derek think he was going to owe his drummer ten thousand dollars. And they pulled out their routine any chance they got. Q willingly slid into her side of their act as soon as Fiona touched her. The close contact of a human being she wasn’t remotely sexually attracted to seemed to her like the safest space for her new need to be touched. Fiona’s hand slid down to the back of Q’s jeans and she cupped the curve of her hip, pulling her closer.

  Q moved her mouth to Fiona’s and she grinned. “How much should we make him sweat?”

  Fiona smiled back. “Oh, I think the Cliterati is going to make Derek wish he’d never met either one of us, tonight.”

  Q regarded her friend for a moment before tracing Fiona’s lips with her tongue. Fiona spun her around and Q rested back against her, sliding one of Fi’s hands down over her breasts as her body began to heat from the effects of the hallucinogen she’d taken.

  “You’re making me wet, Q,” Fiona whispered. “No strings.”

  Shame penetrated her intoxication and Q said, “I can’t, Fi. It’s not my bag.”

  Fiona sucked on her earlobe and replied, “Make it up to me, then. Let me fuck your puppy dog.”

  Q contemplated it for a moment and decided that Fiona and S
anger having a mad affair was the best solution to get her out of the corner she’d backed herself into. She extricated herself from Fiona and swaggered over to Sanger where he leaned against the wall watching her in an intense silence. Moving to the rhythm of the beat as it filled the room, she took his hand and pulled him back towards Fiona. “Come dance with us, cowboy.”

  “Clementine…”

  She put two fingers on his lips and he kissed them. Her mouth caught fire and she bit back her desire, moving away from him to take the nearest drink and drain it, the thirst from the Ecstasy warming her from the inside out.

  As she began to dance with him, Sanger moved stiffly. Q put her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, forcefully pushing his hips around in a circle.

  “Jesus Christ, Sanger, please don’t tell me this is how you fuck. Just move. Relax, will you? We’re supposed to be having fun.”

  He blushed all the way to the tips of her ears and he laughed at her.

  “You’re in for it now, Clementine.”

  “Bring it on, cowboy. I ain’t afraid of you,” she said, grinning at him.

  A simple, steady groove kicked in and she turned around, putting one hand on her stomach, using the other to hold her long hair away from her neck. She slithered up and down the front of his body before standing up to rest back into him, undulating her hips against his.

  She lay back against his chest and he took her hand in his, placing it low on her stomach. She slipped her other hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to her shoulder, forcing his body to move with hers. She closed her eyes, swaying with the music, rotating her hips in slow circles against him. He pulled her tighter, swaying with her, his face resting next to her cheek, looking down at her body as it rocked to the steady pulse filling the air around them.

  As soon as they picked up the rhythm together, she turned to face him. He held her closer until there was no separation between them, their hips moving in unison to the constant beat. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the groove, listening to Sanger whisper along with the vocal, singing into her ear. His lips brushed against her skin as he continued to sing along with the lyrics. “…Baby, you’re a perfect ten… ”

  Q laughed out loud and Sanger tightened his grip low on her waist, resting his forehead on hers, his eyes holding her gaze. He moved them forward and back in the small area inside a crush of people. She felt the world around them vanish and held on more securely to his neck with both arms. Her mouth began to burn as she breathed in the warmth radiating off his skin and her heart pounded in her throat as he pulled her even closer, threading his legs through hers.

  He suddenly stopped dancing, his lips were inches away. When his upper lip grazed her mouth, an electric spark shot through her and she opened her mouth in anticipation, but he pulled back, singing, “I like the way you work it…”

  He pushed her away and pulled her back to him, sliding his hand underneath her shirt, stroking her spine with his fingertips as they continued to dance. As the song faded out, Sanger held onto her tightly until she finally put her hands on his chest and gently but firmly pushed him back, unable to make eye contact with him.

  Lifting her index finger, she gestured for Fiona to join them as Sanger turned her body and gripped her hips close to his. His tongue found her neck and Q gasped. Fiona took three quick steps before taking Q’s face in her hands and pulling her into a full kiss. The world was desire. There was no emptiness. There was no longing. There was only Fiona’s tongue twisting around hers and Sanger’s hands running over her body. As Fiona moved her mouth to find Sanger’s lips with her own, Q’s eyes found Derek.

  He was watching the three of them with an amused expression on his face. She squeezed beyond Fiona and Sanger, the former of whom immediately cupped the front of the latter’s jeans. Q glanced over her shoulder to see Sanger’s tongue tracing the outline of Fiona’s neck.

  Derek materialized by Q’s side and whispered in her ear, “Seems like your puppy dog might have a new mistress.”

  In an instant, Q made her decision. She slipped her arm around his waist and said, “Feel like making an easy ten grand?”

  “You’re wasted, angel.”

  “So?” She wobbled and caught herself on his elbow. “Thought you wanted me to make some bad decisions.”

  “I don’t do wasted, Q.”

  She pulled him down to her and kissed him, taking his hands and moving them over her skin.

  “Take me to your bed, Derek. I’m over this party.”

  Derek glanced in the direction of Fiona and Sanger. “You don’t need me to leave. I think you have a couple of companions who’d like you to join them.”

  She followed his eyes to Sanger’s hands moving lower on Fiona’s body and she said, “Not my bag.”

  “You don’t like women, angel?”

  “No, Derek. I like you.” She slid her hand down over the velvet of his pants for emphasis and his body responded to her touch. Gazing at his eyes, she ran her thumb over his rapidly growing erection. “Feels like you do wasted just fine to me.”

  “Well, if you put it like that, how can I possibly turn you down. Come on.” He took her hand and led her down a dark corridor towards his bedroom.

  She pulled off her shirt and held her arms wide, spinning in a slow circle, watching the scarlet walls swirl around her. He pushed her towards the bed and she staggered back onto it. “Everything feels so good, Derek.”

  She reached for his mouth and kissed him as he slid his hand along her body, her back arching in pleasure. Derek’s tongue moved down her throat and she opened her eyes, biting her lip, her body flooding with desire. A dark-haired angel floated behind Derek’s back as he moved against her. The angel was watching Q over Derek’s shoulder, her dark wings extended, orange light radiating from behind her churning black hair. Q reached up and touched the angel’s face with the back of her hand, the angel’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as she stared at Q, storm clouds racing through her dark blue eyes.

  “I’ve never had sex with an angel watching before,” Q murmured.

  “What are you talking about, Q?” Derek asked, his mouth hungrily searching out a breast.

  “There’s an angel behind you. Just there. She’s gorgeous.”

  The angel vanished in an instant, taking her light away and Derek sat up. He looked at Q in concern. “How much X did you take?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever Fi gave me.” She sat up on her elbows and glanced around the room. “Where did your angel go?”

  Derek felt her forehead and abruptly stood up and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a tall glass of ice water. “Drink some water.”

  She did as she was told and a drop of cold water trickled down her chest, sending waves of pleasure through her skin. “I’m so warm.”

  He took the glass from her and took a drink before setting it on the nightstand. “You’re peaking, angel.”

  She reached for him again and said, “Good.”

  “No, bad. Trust me, you don’t want to have sex right now. Come on. Lie down. I’ll take care of you.”

  Q collapsed back onto the bed and Derek sat beside her, stroking her face with his fingertips. She sighed. “I miss Ben.”

  “I know you do, angel.”

  She took his hand, touching it with hers, drawing the coolness from his skin and bringing it into her.

  “How did you stop being so angry, Derek?”

  His eyes tracked over her face. “I forgave myself. It wasn’t my fault, what happened to me. Just like it’s not your fault, what happened to you.”

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He watched her face for several moments before saying, “When I turned thirty, I was miserable. Angry all the time. I took a year off. I toured the Fertile Crescent all by myself. Went to Morocco, Egypt, Syria, Jordan, and ended up in Istanbul. I rented an apartment. Fell in love with it. The food…” He winked at her. “The women. I wro
te a record, in that apartment. Recorded it. Half in Turkey, the other half in Prague.”

  “What record?”

  “I never released it. It wasn’t exactly Dark Harm material.”

  “I’d like to hear it sometime,” she said, reaching for his face.

  “You already sang one of the songs, angel.”

  “Which one?”

  “Guess.”

  She closed her eyes, her skin tingling around her. “’I’m on Fire.’”

  Derek didn’t say anything for a long time. And Q thought about the night he’d shown up on her porch, frantic, coming apart at the seams. They’d gone to the studio and recorded a song so different from any other she’d ever heard of his. It had immediately become Q’s favorite, but Derek refused to perform it live. Q hummed the melody to herself, tapping the heartbeat of the tempo with the tip of her index finger against the softness of the sheets below her body. When Derek finally did speak, his voice sounded very far away. “Roll over, angel.”