Page 114 of The Music Demon

Doo motioned the demon inside. “So much.”

Looking around, Lyric said, “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah. I’m moving in with Cass.”

“You sure?”

“Thousand percent.”

“I guess I say congratulations then?”

“I guess.” Doo chuckled. “And that’s not all. Settled on bandmates and ready to get started. We just need someplace to…” Lyric reached into the air and was suddenly holding a set of jingling keys. “What’s that?”

“Practice space. Close enough to walk.”

“Seriously?” Doo almost looked more excited about that news. “That’s great.”

“All set up. Ready to go.”

Doo looked suddenly sober. “This seems like… I don’t know. A lot.”

“You’re going to pay me back with great music I haven’t heard before. There’s nothing I want more.” He felt a strange tug in his middle when he said that. It was an offhanded comment that had been true for the entirety of his existence, which was why it rolled so easily off the tongue. But it wasn’t true any longer. Therewassomething he wanted more.

As quickly as Doo’s enthusiasm had disappeared, it was back. “New music. Comin’ up. You’re welcome to come to practice. Anytime you want. I can say you’re a, ah, friend of the band.”

“I don’t want to interfere in the process. Surprise me instead.” Lyric looked around. “You need help getting moved?”

“I’m just taking what’ll fit in that duffle there. I mean, you know, what if she gets tired of me after a week and kicks my ass to the curb?”

“Twenty-first century expression.” Doo wagged his head. “I have a feeling things’ll work out.”

“Yeah,” Doo said. “Me, too.”

Likewise, Lyric’s energy was divided between dual goals. He was grateful for every day that Shivaun escaped the notice of other male demons, but the stress factor spiraled ever higher causing his emotions to reach levels he hadn’t known he was capable of. It was a perpetual conflict. On the one hand, his happiness bordered on ecstasy when he was in the company of his intended mate. On the other, the worry that she might be hunted by other males was distracting at best and debilitating at worst.

One of the things he’d learned about Shivaun was that she was capable of escalating stubbornness to an art form. She was not going to be moved off the position that she wasn’t ready to commit.

So he went about his campaign of pursuit while keeping an eye on Doo’s progress and keeping an eye out for ne’er-do-well demons.

Weeks passed quickly leading up to the music festival in Monterey. Nothing like it had ever been done before and the anticipatory excitement was palpable. It was on everybody’s mind and everybody’s lips.

Three dollars would get you a ticket to three days of the best music ever played. Thirty bands altogether including The Who, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, The Animals, The Byrds, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Steve Miller Band, The Mamas and The Papas, Buffalo Springfield, and Simon & Garfunkel.

Doo’s band was steadily progressing toward a sound he could be proud of. The guys were getting to know each other. Musical kinships were being forged into friendships. And they’d decided on a name. Midnight Ride.

He knew it was right the second he saw Cass’s reaction.

He found her at her desk in the bordello room. When he told her, she lit up like a flare. “It’s perfect.”

Doo was caught off guard. His lover had a perfectionist streak that ran deep and wide. He’d been more prepared for a critical analysis than unbridled enthusiasm. When he got the latter, he knew that, indeed, it must be perfect.

“Whoa. Really?”

“You don’t want me to be pleased?”

“Oh. I do. I just…”

“Just what?”