Read How to Love a Blue Demon Online

Authors: Sherrod Story

How to Love a Blue Demon (12 page)

BOOK: How to Love a Blue Demon
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“As you wish, sire,” Rierdane said, and they set up a brokerage acc
ount 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 l
ie 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 barked 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.

Silence. You will not tell my father what I’m about to do.

Rierdane sighed, but said nothing more.

“How?”
Cass wanted to know.

“Let me massage you. It will ease your tension, and may loosen that blockage that is preventing you from evacuating your bowels.”

Cass shrugged and would have pulled up her panties.

“No, sit there.”

Cass’ expression said she thought that was strange, but she stayed where she was.

Eyoen
stepped next to her and lifted an arm. He began massaging and pulling at her fingertips, and slowly, bit by bit, worked his way up her arm to her shoulder, releasing a tiny bit of energy into her with every touch.

He could sense
what was wrong inside her body. On the whole she was healthy, but when he ran into a touch of arthritis in her wrist, he let his magic seep out and ease it away. When he finished one arm he began on the other one, and the stiffness that sometimes plagued the fingers on that hand, her guitar hand, disappeared too.

As he worke
d he could feel her tension fade. Her blood pressure, already well within normal ranges, completely stabilized, as did hormone production from her thyroid and pituitary glands. That month, Cass would have no cramps at all from her period, and he’d only just finished her arms.

With a last stroke for each shoulder,
he moved up to her neck, migrated to the top of her head and then worked his way back down her trunk. She said nothing as he pressed hard on several points down her sternum between her breasts and just underneath them. Her spine elongated; the slight roundness in her shoulders, a common hazard from playing an instrument and being tall and constantly stooping to hear people, reversed.

He stopped at her
belly, feeling her tense as he came close to the source of the pain.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, and then sat at her feet to st
art the same routine.

He massaged each foot
thoroughly. He pulled each toe, rotating her heels at the ankle. By the time he got to her left knee she had to flush the toilet, and he smiled when she smiled in relief, but kept working. He massaged the inside of each thigh, the crease of her hips, the top of her buttocks; everything he could reach was stroked. The magic flowing into her body from his pushed out every toxin, and she flushed the toilet again.

“I’m going to touch your belly now,” he told her. “Don’t tense,” he ordered, and she obeyed, though her eyes sought his.

He hated that she expected pain, and his touch was feather light as he began to massage her swollen belly, his large hands spanned her waist enabling him to press against her lower back. He’d barely begun before she had to flush the toilet.

“Shit,” she laughed. “Sorry. No pun intended.”
It kept coming, and she kept flushing. “Damn! I’ve never pooped this much in my entire life.”

Eyoen
knew it. She was releasing all of the blocked food that had been collecting in her system. He ran her a glass of water from the bathroom tap, purified it with a thought, and told her to drink it. She did, eying him as she continued to shit, and he just sat there and watched her, hands rubbing slowly at her lower back, pressing lightly on her kidneys to help them do their work more efficiently.

She flushed again. “Hit the fan. This has to be the weirdest damn night of my life,” she told him. “I’ve never had anyone in the bathroom with me like this, especially when I was making a stink this bad!”

She continued for the next 10 minutes, flushing and talking, every now and then she’d say something about this not being normal, and he’d ease her mind with a little suggestion.

She
flushed again. “Fuck. I think I might be done. What the hell did you do to me?” She laughed.

S
he got into the shower, and when she emerged a few minutes later she was smiling.

“I feel great, baby,”
she said, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!”

She
certainly looked wonderful. Eyoen actually licked his lips over her. Her skin was brighter, her eyes were luminous, she literally shone with health, and her good cheer added an extra sparkle. She even smelled better, and she’d smelled wonderful before. He could barely keep himself from attacking her.

“Thank you,” she said
again, staring into his eyes. “Where’d you learn that?”

He knew
she meant why did you never help me before?

“Tell her you
’ve been reading up, and you learned some of it in the hospital,” Rierdane ordered. “That the nurses did it to you. You have massaged her a little in the past. She’ll believe it if you sell it.”

He did. Expounding to say he was thinking of taking a course; he said he’d
read something more about it on the internet just that afternoon. Then, ingeniously he asked, “Did I do it right?”


Are you kidding? You should be licensed, honey! You could make a fortune. Lord have mercy!” she said, stretching forward and putting her hands flat on the floor.

He eyed her naked butt and exposed mons like a starving man.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “Starving! I feel completely empty. You think if I eat something light I’ll fuck myself up?”

“No, just eat vegetables or fruit. No dairy or meat.”

She nodded. “I’m thirsty as hell. I feel like I could drink a well dry. You tired, baby?” she asked, putting on a robe.

He shook his head. “I’ll fix you something.”

Eyoen liked to cook. On the star he occasionally overrode their objections, dismissed the servants and made his mother or sisters food when the male members of his family weren’t around. They’d never understood his preference for being around the family females. His brothers suspected it was because he was the youngest. His father agreed, but knew the real reason was because his baby son just sincerely enjoyed women.

In Cass’ kitchen h
e chopped carrots and onions, yellow squash and okra, and after examining the spice rack selected ground pepper, sea salt and a bottle of olive oil that he purified when Cass’ back was turned. Tomorrow he would see about some water filters.

When he set down two
gently steaming plates, she slowly, methodically demolished hers, and he watched, content to see her replenish herself with food he had prepared.

“Not hungry?”

He looked down at his half full plate. “No, my dear. Can you bear a little more?”

She laughed and swapped their plates. “I’ve got a hollow leg tonight.”

He listened to the sexy sounds of enjoyment she made as she ate, and he knew their love making that night would be extraordinary. He hoped she wore his bruised body out, and after she cleaned up the kitchen, bless her more efficiently beating human heart, she did.

The next morning
as he lay in bed he heard her telling Priti what had happened.

“I
cleaned out my entire colon, I swear to God, girl. I was an empty husk. Look how flat my belly is. No more candy pouch!” Eyoen was a little sad about that. “All this time I was working out trying to get rid of fat when all I needed was to take a good shit! I slept so damn good, I woke up like, bloop!”

He
chuckled, watching with his mind’s eye as she made a funny face and pantomimed popping up from a deep sleep. He rose and showered and eyed his mostly bruise free face critically.

Allowing his magic free reign last night to heal her had given his internal system the metaphoric go ahead to heal him as well, and t
ongue in cheek, he slowly painted on the remnants of the car wreck with his mind.

BOOK: How to Love a Blue Demon
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