Author's Musings: I kept experiencing an odd vision while writing this. It consisted of one of those cheesy paperback romance covers showing Vachon, his shirt barely clinging to him, holding on to a swooning gypsy girl, her already revealing clothing strategically ripped. There's also a large black horse rearing in the background. I suspect that it may be time to up the medication again. {{Sigh}} Well, the prose may be a trifle purple, but I kept the blood nice and red.

Dedication: I hereby dedicate this piece o' fiction to those who linger longingly on the steps of the Church of the Divine Slacker, peeking periodically through the keyhole with timid voyeurism. I just wanted to let you know that he heard your nervous giggles and flew around the back to see who was there. So, I hope you remembered to use your apricot/calla lily shampoo this morning.

Disclaimers: My sincerest condolences go out to TPTB who had no idea that things would ever get this far out of hand.

---

Diablo by Erika Wilson

A shrill scream rent the air of the camp and we all looked up in surprise. The younger children stampeded towards the road with shouts of excitement while the rest of us followed with more decorum, though hardly less urgency. The scream burst forth again just as I topped the hill and I saw the great black shape split the sky and slash at it with his razor hooves.

Men, my father and uncles among them, pulled at the ropes around his head, laughing and singing as they brought their prize into the encampment. Foam flecked the strong curved neck and hatred burned in his eyes. I shuddered when I looked into them, for it seemed as if the devil himself had taken possession of this creature.

My small cousin, ten year-old Carlos ran for the corral and swung the gate open, riding on the slats and whooping. Pressed by the men on horseback, the stallion lashed out with his hooves, but our horses are too wise to let themselves be harmed this way and they forced him into the corral with well-timed shoves and bumps.

He lunged about the circular space, still dragging numerous ropes and flinging them about like whips at the children clinging to the outside of the corral. Each time a rope would come whistling down, the children would scatter, squealing with false terror and then come back to watch some more.

"Is he not magnificent?"

I turned and saw my father beaming beneath the sweat and dust on his face.

"He is a devil." I answered shortly. "And he will send to Hell any who would dare to try and ride him."

My father threw his head back and laughed. "You always see what lies beneath the surface, Doro, it is your mother in you." He squeezed my shoulders and dropped a kiss on my head. "His name is Diablo and he has already sent two of Don Sebastian's men to Hell, while another lingers on the threshold. Don Sebastian was about to put a bullet in the beast's brain when I asked for him."

I looked at him, aghast. "And what did you trade for this ... this ungovernable monster?"

He laughed again. "That is the joke of it, don't you see? I paid nothing for him. Not a mended saddle, not a shaved peseta. Don Sebastian gave him to me as if he were placing a curse upon my head."

"Knowing Don Sebastian's fondness for us, that is probably just what he thought he was doing." I observed wryly. I watched the stallion some more, noting that his wrath was in no way diminishing and my lips thinned. "And he has more than likely succeeded."

"Ahh," my father chortled. "You will see, we will bring him to his senses. Don Sebastian is an idiot and does not know how to deal with such a spirited creature. Just look at those lines! He is sixteen hands if he's an inch. There's Barb in his blood all right, a real fighting man's mount. And he will fetch a fortune once he has been tamed."

"How will you tame a demon, father?" I murmured to his back as he strode off. "How will you bring the devil to heel?"

The stallion, Diablo, was left for several days with no food and precious little water. "He will not eat," pronounced my father. "Unless he will take food from my hand." It was a test of wills between the two of them and neither appeared ready to weaken. If my father held out an armful of hay, Diablo would charge the fence, smashing his flanks against it and sending my father tumbling away.

Finally my father brought a bucket of oats and showed it to Diablo, shaking it and dribbling the grains through his fingers. Diablo stood at the far end of the corral, breathing in the scent with his wide, curved nostrils. He shook his head and stamped his feet, but the grain called to him. He circled the corral, cutting away sharply from where my father stood, but the hunger gnawing at his great frame drew him closer, until he stood near enough for my father to feel the hot breath of him. The muscles under his black hide trembled and his eyes rolled white, but he thrust his muzzle into the bucket and ate while my father spoke to him.

Thereafter he would eat and allow my father to touch him and remove the ropes that were beginning to gall. But I could still see the devil in those eyes, biding its time and I felt terribly afraid.

I begged my father not to ride him, telling him that no human had the power to tame such a beast, but he, being a man and head of the tribe, must dismiss such notions as merely womanish fears.

And so the day came and the clan gathered around the corral to watch the battle between two indomitable spirits. Diablo knew that something was happening and he shied skittishly away from all the people, but he came to my father readily enough, standing quite still as my father fed him a handful of oats while he stroked his neck and ran his hands along his back. With a movement too sudden to catch, my father was astride, clutching great handfuls of mane in his fists. Diablo was frozen, like a beast carved from stone, then his ears swung flat against his head and he slashed the air with his hooves, screaming that devil's scream.

He reared, he bucked, he twisted. He tried to scrape my father from his back by smashing against the posts, but my father clung to his back with no movement and no expression. I could see his lips moving, though, as he tried to reach Diablo with the voice he had grown to trust.

But there was no trust in him now, there was only fury and a burning desire to kill. I could see the fires of Hell burning in his eyes as he rose towards the sky once again, but instead of coming back down, he continued to stretch his body upwards and then he was falling backwards, hoping to crush my father between his massive frame and the ground.

My father felt the stallion's purpose and flung himself desperately to the side. I heard something snap as he fell and then Diablo crashed to the ground, missing my father's legs by inches. The stallion rolled to his feet with a speed that no earthbound creature should possess and turned his burning eyes to where my father lay motionless. He scraped the ground a few times, lowering his head and blowing like a bull in one of the city arenas and then he charged.

Screaming, I flung myself into the corral, waving my shawl in his face as I stood over my father. He shied away from the unexpected site, but he circled around again and I could see by the fire in his eyes that such a trick would not work twice.

"Open the gate!" I cried desperately and my family scrambled to do as I said. The hoof beats were like thunder as Diablo pounded towards me, ears back and eyes wild, but I would not leave my father. I closed my eyes and stood there, waiting to be struck down and trampled. I felt his hot breath on my cheek and the foam from his shoulder spattered me as he swerved at the last possible moment and dashed out the gate to freedom.

My uncles carried my father into the house and I forced the trembling of my limbs away so that I might tend him. It was early evening by the time his eyes opened and he smiled at me.

"Well Doro," he whispered past the pain. "You may say you told me so, just as your mother would have. How bad is it?"

"Much less than you deserve." I told him with a frown that did nothing to reduce the smile spreading across my cheeks. "Your collarbone is snapped clean and your wrist is badly sprained. Unfortunately, it is not enough to keep you from repeating such foolishness as we witnessed today. But," I told him sternly. "You will certainly have time to contemplate the magnitude of your folly."

He laughed a bit, wincing at the discomfort it caused. "And Diablo? What of the horse?"

"He is gone." I told him flatly. "And no one was willing to follow and try to bring him back, not after what happened today."

"Ahh," he sighed. "It is a great loss. He would have been a magnificent mount."

"For a dead man, perhaps." I snapped. "Which you very nearly were." I turned away so that he would not see the tears that filled my eyes. Then I heard my small cousin Carlos' voice calling for me.

"Doro, Doro!" He cried breathlessly as he stood in the doorway, hopping from one foot to the other in his excitement. "He is come back! With a rider!"

I rose from my father's side and put out a hand to steady the boy, but he grabbed it and began pulling me outside. I glanced back at my father, but he waved me on with a look of irritated frustration at his injured state. So I followed Carlos into the soft blue twilight and that is how I saw them, washed in a cool glow that deepened the shadows that seemed to drip from them and pool around their feet.

He, like the stallion was garbed in black; black boots, black pants, a loose black shirt and a black leather vest laced up the front. A wide-brimmed hat dangled at his back, black of course. He appeared to be quite young, but a dark growth of several days shadowed his jaw and his posture showed the relaxed confidence of many, many years. He stood in a crowd of my people with his arm resting comfortably over Diablo's withers. The stallion's head swung toward the stranger's face and I nearly cried out a warning, but the horse merely nibbled at the young man's long wavy hair, nickering quietly.

I moved forward and the people made way for me, knowing that it was my place to greet the stranger. But I did not do so right away, instead, I searched the eyes of the stallion, looking for the creature who had very nearly killed me. What I found was a beast as placid and gentle as any ancient plow horse. Diablo, devil-no-more, whuffled against my face and lipped my hair as if he had known me since his foaling. I rubbed my hand against his cheek and turned to look at the stranger.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed, large and dark, filled with curiosity and a warm light of humor. But behind the charming facade, I sensed a familiar fire, held tightly in control, but flickering behind those brown eyes as a bright, dangerous glow. I glanced quickly at Diablo and back, understanding now where Diablo's demon had gone.

I had told my father that nothing human could tame Diablo and I had been correct. The devil was in our midst and there was nothing else to do but welcome him.

"Senor," I said, offering him a curtsey, "you are welcome to our camp. I am Dorothea, daughter of the chieftain. He would greet you himself, but he has recently suffered a slight accident. Please, come and join us at our fire."

"I ... thank you." His voice was light and pleasant, but rough, as if he had not had much opportunity to use it recently. "It is nice to see faces and hear voices again. I have missed it." He smiled suddenly and his fine-cut features were transformed in such a way that my knees felt quite unsteady. "I believe I found something that belongs to you?" He ran a hand down Diablo's nose. "He's a nice horse. You should keep a closer eye on him." Diablo nudged at his shoulder and snorted impatiently. "I think he is hungry."

"Carlos!" I commanded, trying to keep my voice firm, though it yearned to quaver and crack. "Fetch a halter and lead Diablo to the corral. Give him food and water."

"D ... Doro?" Carlos queried unsteadily. "Will I not need some help?"

I looked at the stranger and his smile deepened, touching his eyes. "No," I replied as an involuntary smile curved my lips in answer. "I do not think you will. Come." I said to the stranger. "Follow me."

I led him to my father, since I knew that he would be seething with curiosity. I stepped through the doorway and found my father standing, trying to pull a shirt around his bound shoulder.

"Father!" I exclaimed, rushing to make him sit. "Are you trying to see how much more damage you can do to yourself?"

"Bah!" He grumbled as I fussed with his bindings. "There is nothing wrong with my legs, I would like to see for myself who has come into our camp."

"Well I have brought him here, so there is no need for you to bestir yourself." I gestured at the stranger who had paused at the threshold. "Please, Senor, you may come in and meet my father, the chief of our clan."

At my invitation, he stepped inside and gave my father a most courtly bow, which pleased him, I could tell. "Javier Valdez at your service, most noble chieftain." The young stranger announced.

"He brought Diablo back, father." I explained. "And he has bewitched the beast, for he has become gentle as a lamb."

"Have you now?" Roared my father, though he winced and eased himself back into his chair. "This is something I must see for myself, but if it is as my daughter says, then we are in your debt, Senor Valdez." He shot the young man a sharp look from under his dark brows. "And contrary to what people say, we pay our debts."

Senor Valdez flashed his devilish grin. "All I would ask is to spend some time in the company of your people." He looked at me with laughter in his eyes. "Especially that of your lovely daughter."

I tried to toss my head in disdain, but I know what my eyes were saying to his. He might be the very devil himself, but I could not help reacting to the man he appeared to be.

My father roared for my uncles to carry his chair to let him see for himself the miracle of Diablo's conversion. The entire camp was clustered around the corral, marveling at the sight of Diablo eating from a bucket of oats held by my small cousin Carlos. When Senor Valdez climbed up to sit on the top railing, the horse raised his head and snorted, spraying Carlos with moist bits of grain and trotted eagerly to the man who had exorcised his demon.

"Well," remarked my father as he watched Diablo rub his face up and down Senor Valdez's chest. "I would hardly believe this to be the same creature that nearly killed me this morning." He examined Senor Valdez through narrowed eyes. "I would dearly love to know what magic you used to beguile such a wild spirit, even if it was the blackest of spells."

Senor Valdez laughed. "Hardly black magic, noble Chief, but it is a trick peculiar to the men of my tribe which we are not allowed to divulge, for you see," he leaned over as if to whisper to my father, though the level of his voice did not drop. "It works as well to subdue unmanageable women and so ... ." He shrugged and my father laughed until tears of pain leaked from his eyes.

"Indeed," wheezed my father, wiping the tears away with his good hand. "I can see why the men of your tribe insist on keeping secret such a powerful charm. So instead, will you show me proof of you abilities and ride the beast for me?"

"With pleasure, noble Chief." He flowed onto the stallion's back as if the separate halves of one whole had suddenly found each other and become a single being once again. In the imprecise light of the lanterns and the coquettish glow of the half-moon, it was impossible to discern any division between the two creatures. With no apparent motion, he urged Diablo into a liquid trot, the beauty of which squeezed the heart within my chest. He leaned forward the slightest hair and the trot became a canter, then he crouched over the neck and their mingled being blurred into a gallop that shook the breath from me.

My hips were pressed into the topmost board of the corral and I was leaning forward with my mouth gaping, so much did I yearn to be part of that unearthly creature thundering past. Then he was there before me, with laughing eyes and outstretched hand while Diablo danced eager little steps. I reached out and suddenly found myself sitting astride an acknowledged man-killer with my arms wrapped around the waist of a stranger whose eyes burned with the devil's fire and my skirts hiked up to my knees before my entire tribe.

"Hold on." He murmured and I had only enough time to bury my face in his back and redouble my grip around his waist before he set Diablo to the fence and we sailed effortlessly over the heads of my astonished tribesfolk.

We streaked across the plain, out racing the wind and following the trail of the moon, which I think we might very well have caught, but all too soon, Senor Valdez sat up, easing Diablo into a loose walking pace.

"Ahhh," I sighed, breathing deeply of the night and the peace that surrounded us. "Thank you, Senor Valdez."

He twisted around and traced the touch of the moon along my cheek. "Please, call me Javier ... Dorothea, right?"

"Doro." I blushed foolishly. "Everyone calls me Doro."

"D'oro," he murmured with a thoughtful smile. "The bright metal whose pure essence cannot be tarnished or stained." And then he kissed me.

He tasted of the night, with its cool secrets and ephemeral fragrances. But his arms were firm around me and his shoulders strong beneath my hands. I felt like liquid in his embrace and pressed myself closer, aching to feel all of him against me.

And then Diablo, as if to prove there was still a trace of the devil in him, decided to spook at some imagined shadow and Javier had to struggle to keep us both from falling into an undignified heap on the ground. He was laughing as he spun around to grab onto Diablo's mane, but when he pulled his lips from mine, I could have sworn that his eyes were shining as pale as the moon in the sky above.

They were brown and filled with hilarity when he smiled at me over his shoulder and set the mild and meek Diablo into a trot back to the camp.

The entire clan was gathered around the large central fire, merrily eating stew and drinking wine when we turned Diablo into the corral to finish his oats. They welcomed us with shouts and rough suggestions and pressed bowls and wineskins into our hands.

Javier did not eat the stew. I caught him passing the contents of his bowl surreptitiously into that of cousin Carlos. Our eyes met and he very carefully drank some wine so that I would know that he was accepting our hospitality and would therefore be bound to respect us and what was ours.

Keeping my eyes locked on his, I rose slowly and picked up a tambourine that someone had brought out. I shook it above my head and everyone roared and clapped and guitars and drums appeared. I twirled leisurely, slapping the tambourine as my people clapped their hands along with me. I circled the fire, laughing at the children, winking at the young men and smiling at everyone until I once again stood before Javier. I brought my arms down against my side and all sound stopped.

I looked over my shoulder at my uncle Anselmo who played the drum and nodded to him as I began tapping the tambourine against my hip in a clear, steady beat. I glanced at Javier and challenged him with an eyebrow. He grinned and leaned over to borrow a guitar from one of his neighbors. His fingers flashed deftly across the strings and a sound of approval washed through the crowd. I had set the beat, but Javier would dictate the shape of my dance. It was for both of us a test as well as a challenge.

But I had failed to account for the power of the creature seated before me. A ripple of sound washed over me, full of fire and desire and a ruthless yearning. I gazed raptly into this eyes, into the undiluted source of the music and felt the air leave my body as the force of his need slammed into me. Desperately, I spun away, flinging myself into the relative safety of his music, instead of the deadly peril of his arms.

Yet there was peril in his song as well, for with it, he insinuated himself into every muscle of my body, against every inch of my perspiring skin and through the heated blood pounding within my frantically beating heart.

I thought with the last shreds of consciousness before the power of the dance consumed me utterly. And then there was nothing but the awareness of his fingers on the strings of my soul and my body's feverish expression of his desires.

I saw the blurred faces of my tribe and felt the torrid heat of the fire as I whirled around it, faster and faster, but I had surrendered myself to the demonic force that burned away my physical being, leaving only a pure elemental essence held to the earth by the strength of two eyes, vast and dark as the night sky with blazing suns exploding in their depths.

The music had stopped, but I needed no external expression of the song that thrummed along every fiber of my being. His arms came around me, shocking the breath back into the body I had forgotten was mine. I looked up into the face of the Devil, with his eyes shining brighter than the fire reflected back from their surface and I saw my own naked yearning mirrored in his pure, inhumanly beautiful features.

"Yes." I sobbed and he crushed me against him, engulfing my mouth with his own.

He pulled away and circled my face with his hands. The breath rasped harshly past his lips. "Then I will come for you." He growled and the words burned themselves like a brand upon my heart.

And he was gone, melted away like mist in the breezed. They say I fell insensible to the ground and I remember nothing more of that night.

I stepped out into the shocking brightness of the next day as if into a dream. I attended to my father and to my chores, but I felt frayed and only partly attached to the fabric of the lives around me. Something must have shown in my face, for people regarded me uncertainly and spoke to me with soft hesitation. My father looked at me sorrowfully and once he searched my eyes as if for something he had lost, but he only brushed my cheek and sighed.

All of this meant nothing to me. I only waited for the coming of night and my demon lover. That he would take me away from everything I had ever known or loved was meaningless. I only knew that he would come and he would take me. Whatever happened after was unimportant.

The last molten rays of the sun washed over the camp and I stared entranced at the light dripping like honey on the flanks of Diablo as he pranced about the corral. Then he stilled and stood motionless, except for the quivering of his nostrils and my heart leapt at the thought that he might be sensing the return of his Master. But his tension was not one of joy. His ears flattened and then I heard the rumble of hooves upon the ground and saw the cloud of dust approaching.

Out of the flame-colored sky they came, whooping and bearing torches which they touched to every structure they came upon. Our men scrambled to grab what weapons they could find, while the women screamed and tried to carry the children out of the way of the fire and the hooves. Several horsemen broke off and headed towards the corral, bearing ropes and whips and I knew who they were and why they had come.

Don Sebastian had somehow gotten word of Diablo's transformation and he had sent his men to retrieve his property. In doing so, of course, he relegated us to the level of horse thieves to be punished and driven out.

Fury burned through the fog that had filled my brain all day and I found myself tearing across the corral and leaping onto Diablo's back. He saw the men coming towards us and I felt his muscles bunch and quiver and he exploded beneath me, charging the gate and leaping over it as effortlessly as he had the night before. But instead of racing away, he wheeled around and charged at Don Sebastian's men, lashing out with teeth and hooves and his own massive body until the other horses grew frantic and dislodged their riders in order to escape Diablo's demonic rage.

I did not see what Diablo did to those men, there was a red haze before my eyes that left me blind to all but what was happening to my people. There was fire and smoke and screaming and I forced Diablo to turn away from the limp shapes on the ground to pursue the remaining ravagers.

Then I saw my father, weaving unsteadily in the smoke and the mad twilight shadows, but he was brandishing an ancient sword and I saw him slash with vicious effectiveness at one of the horsemen who tumbled to the ground with a cry. Another rider swept by and I watched as he smashed my father to the ground with a cudgel.

"Father!" I cried, flinging myself from Diablo's back and stumbling to where my father lay. The rider raised the cudgel again and I saw his cruel smile as I raised my arm as a pathetic shield. Then his smile froze into a grimace of terror and the cudgel fell from his hand.

He landed at my feet, blood pouring from his torn-out throat and I looked up into the face of my demon lover. His eyes glowed bright gold and his bloody fangs were revealed in a bestial snarl. He disappeared in a rush of air and I heard more screams as he sated his hunger with the blood of Don Sebastian's men. All the strength of my fury drained from me and I cradled the unmoving form of my father and wept.

The air had become dark and chill by the time I became aware of the silence that had descended upon the camp. I looked up, surprised to see my tribe gathered quietly around me. Stiffly I lowered my father's body to the ground and wiped the tears from my cheeks as I stood to face them. They had come to me because it was my place now to lead them.

We began the task of tending the wounded, burying our dead and taking stock of everything that remained to us. The men of Don Sebastian were dragged off into the woods for the beasts to scavenge. No one cared to discuss the nature of their death, nor the marks upon their necks. Nor was there any mention of the young stranger, or of Diablo, neither of whom had returned to us.

Some nights later, when all that could not wait had been done, and no immediate decisions were required of me, I crept away from the camp to visit the graves of my father and my small cousin Carlos in order to say good-bye. We would be leaving in the morning, before any more misfortune could befall us.

The wind blew lonesome and chill and my tears burned like ice upon my cheeks. I fell to my knees before the graves and pulled my shawl closer around me as I rocked, moaning softly in my grief.

A dark shadow fell across the raised earth and a warm breath blew against my face as Diablo lipped softly at my salty cheeks. Javier slid down Diablo's shoulder and shoved the stallion's large head away as he knelt down before me and pressed his soft cool lips against my own.

All my pent-up fear and grief and anger burst forth and I found myself clinging to his unyielding strength, crying, laughing and trying somehow to kiss him through all of this.

He simply held me and crooned low in his throat, waiting for my torrent of emotions to subside. Eventually it did and I lay in his embrace, limp and exhausted. Diablo tried once again to interpose himself and I found myself laughing weakly at Javier's mild oath at the stallion's persistence.

"You found him again."

"'He's a nice horse. You should keep a closer eye on him.'" He quoted himself with gentle humor.

"And you came back."

"I always keep my promises." He said softly. "I said I would come for you."

I shifted in his arms and looked up into his endlessly dark eyes. "I cannot." I told him past the sob in my throat and I saw his face grow hard and he began to pull away from me. "No!" I demanded, grabbing onto him before he could leave me alone again, forever. "It is not because of what you are, what I saw of you that night. I knew what you were the moment I looked into your eyes and saw the fires that burn inside of you."

His eyebrows drew together in perplexity and his mouth opened slightly. I smiled and touched a finger to his full lower lip. "I was drawn to the form of the man, but it was your devil's heart that won me." He smiled meltingly and would have kissed me, but I needed the breath that remained to me in order to explain. "No, don't you see, I cannot." I gestured back at the lights and sounds of the camp. "My life is no longer my own. It belongs to them, now. I must remain here." I stood and pushed my wind-tossed hair out of my face.

He rose and placed himself between the wind and my shivering form. "Forever?" He asked.

"No, not forever, just until I am no longer needed."

He smiled and took my hands into his own and kissed them both, never taking his eyes from mine. "Then I will come for you." He whispered. "For I always keep my promises." With a rush of air, he was gone.

"Yes." I sobbed, and led Diablo back to the camp.

---

My youngest granddaughter wriggled excitedly and jumped from my lap so that she could caper happily around the small fire in my little one-room dugout.

"Is that story really true, grandmother?" Asked my next oldest granddaughter, who was beginning to look upon many things with the careful eye of a skeptic.

"Well, the parts about Diablo must be," assured my grandson, who was just the age of my small cousin Carlos. "It was he who sired our famous black Barbs, after all."

"All stories are just as true as they need to be," I told my next oldest Granddaughter firmly. "And you'll understand what I mean when you get to be my age. Now," I said, handing her my youngest granddaughter. "It is time for these old bones to get some rest, so you just run along to your own fires."

There were the usual protests and dragging of feet, but it was rewarding to see how much they still valued my company and my stories, unlike the older members of the tribe who now looked to my tall straight son, Javier, to lead them. "Well," I sighed softly into the night. "That is as it should be."

I had meant to go inside, but there was a softness to the night that drew me out into it and I found myself wandering through the starlit shadows of the forest, listening to the quiet sounds that rustled in the stillness.

"Doro." The whisper came so quiet and soft that I thought at first my ears were playing tricks on me. But then I saw his lean form silhouetted between the trees.

"Javier." I tried to say, but no sound emerged. And then he was there, laughing at me as we searched each other's faces looking for the memory of what we had last seen. He was exactly as he had been, if a trifle shaggier than I recalled.

"D'oro," he smiled and my heart leapt like that of a young girl. "The bright metal whose pure essence cannot be tarnished or stained." He kissed me and the heat of the fire and the overwhelming longing of his song swept over me as if no time at all had passed. "So," he said finally. "Are you ready to come with me now?"

I looked back at the lights of the camp in the distance and listened to the sounds of the songs and the laughter. I would miss that sound very much, but it was I who needed them now, not the other way around.

I turned to my demon lover and smiled into those deep and endless eyes. "Yes," I told him. "Yes, I am ready to come with you now."

END