The Demon's Lover

Callum How long had we been at war? Honestly, I'd forgotten already. By the time I'd been revived as a Demon, the war had been going on longer than anyone could even begin to describe. As every other Demon, I'd started as nothing more than a grunt. Just some other nameless creature in the circles of hell that no one really bothered to notice. But that was before I started to prove myself. I'd had a proclivity for torture, for bringing pain on others. And I rose through the ranks rather quickly. By the time I started to actually pay any attention to what I was becoming, I was the Lord of Pride. One of the Princes under Lucifer directly. Of course, that didn't mean I was left alone after that. The other six Princes, and Princesses to those that chose female forms, usually stuck pretty close to me. Seemed that they had the annoying thought that I'd try to take over the entirety of Hell. But, well, that wasn't my thing. It wasn't what I wanted. What I wanted, though, was far more innocent than anyone would have ever imagined. Her name was Ashlynn. And she had the voice of an angel, eyes that could bring even the most powerful Demon to his knees. Or her knees, in some cases. I'd never really had any sort of affection for women with dark hair. But on her? f**k, it looked good. And that was exactly what was on my mind that summer day at some other nameless cafe in... some city or other. I didn't know, nor did I really care. She was talking to some other woman. Possibly her agent? I'd been keeping up with her enough to know that she was in the music industry. A lot of what she did were covers, I'd noticed. But the tone and pitch of her voice brought chills to even me. And that was nearly impossible these days. The woman she was speaking to was... well, most would call her pretty. Not me. She was a blond, her green eyes a little too far set apart. But, then again, maybe I was biased. "Seriously, Ash," the blond said. I was far enough away to seem like another patron of this cafe, but close enough that I could still hear every last word. "You really should think about maybe changing up your look. As good as black looks on you, I think something new could add a bit of refreshment to your overall thing." "You know I went black for a reason." Damn it. There went those goosebumps again. I glanced up, briefly, timing it so that it didn't look like I was overly interested. "I'm not going back to my natural color." "But you're naturally a blond, like me. I'm thinking a deep red. Something to bring those pretty blues out just a bit more." I watched as Ashlynn took the magazine that her friend had produced, and the only thing I could think about was letting my fingers intertwine with hers. She took a bite of the sandwich in front of her, nibbling on the corner as she thought for a moment. f**k. What would those lips feel like pressed to mine? I was too lost in thought, and I had to force myself to stare at the newspaper in my grasp, just so I could stare at something other than her while I listened in. "Fine," she said after a moment of silence. "I'll think about it, okay?" My eyes flickered up from the page in front of me, just in time to see the blond give Ashlynn a wide smile. "Good! Because I have an appointment with Arianne in about twenty minutes, and you're going with me!" At least this woman knew that Ashlynn only deserved the best. Arianne was one of the most known stylists in the city, one of the only people I trusted with my own hair. Not that the golden mane I called hair ever needed much work, but it was nice to have a little upkeep done from time to time. Once the girls left, I did as well. I paid for the only thing I'd gotten, coffee, and slid into the car that had waited there on the curb the entire time. What could I say? My staff were pretty loyal. Mostly out of fear, but what did it matter? The trip back to the manor was spent in silence. The only thing I had said when I slid in was "play the usual." I didn't even bother using the driver's name, not that I could remember it anyway. The sound of her voice filled the car, and I leaned back in the seat with my eyes closed. Images filled my mind of my hands all over her soft skin, her lips pressed to mine. Images of myself slid deep inside her. By the time we reached the manor, I was in a mood. I couldn't help it. Just the idea of Arianne with her hands on my woman... it frustrated me. I knew that the reason was completely professional, but that didn't make me feel any better about it. I stalked in through the front doors, the auburn hair and crimson eyes of my "butler" greeting me. Why did this one choose such an old vessel? It made no sense to me. "Alphonse." My voice was curt, snappish, indicating I was in no mood for disobedience. "I want Ashlynn here. Immediately. I've put this off for far too long." "Forgive me for asking, Master Callum, but isn't she just another human? Why spend so much effort on her?" When I spun around to face him, I already knew that my normally golden eyes were a piercing crimson. He immediately backed off, but I felt generous enough to grace him with some form of explanation. "Not that it should matter, but I don't think she's entirely human," I grumbled. "Why else would those f*****g Angels be all over her? They've placed at least one in every last facet of her life, and I hate it." I could hear the thick Irish brogue that rumbled from me as I spoke. How many women had nearly fallen over themselves just to make me talk? Too many. And none of them mattered. Alphonse remained silent, but I could hear the gears turning in his mind. Maybe the reason the Angels wanted her so much was because of the purity that clung to everything Ashlynn did, everything she was. I sighed, pushing a hand through my hair. My free hand loosened the tie around my neck, only enough to make it feel like I wasn't being strangled anymore. "There's never been a woman, human or otherwise, who has had this effect on me. I need her here, Alphonse. Immediately." I had to make her mine. Somehow, no matter what. She would be mine. "I'll get on surveillance immediately, Sir, and get you every last answer you seek." As always. Even if the "old man" was a little abrasive at times, he always caved. Maybe it was a good thing he'd been stuck with me so long. As Alphonse left the room, I leaned back in the chair behind my desk, staring at absolutely nothing for the moment, hand folded on the top of the mahogany surface. She was everything I wasn't, that much I could see. Instead of having golden hair and silver eyes, she was dark haired with blue eyes. She wasn't tall and muscled like me, but slender and petite. Sure, I could tell there was some muscle there, but hers was more lean, more lithe. She was that light to my darkness, that balance that I'd been craving for centuries. I glanced over to a newspaper on the top of my desk, one that had an article about her, and her picture. "Soon, my little dove," I muttered. "Soon, you'll be mine. My darling Queen."