Page 4 of Demon's Obsession

Phew. Okay then.

Silas knew he didn’t have to perform—no one would be upset if he didn’t, but he’d feel awful if he was taking an opportunity away from his friends. “I’ll sing something nice then, shall I? A successful man is probably stressed. I’ll see if I can help him relax.”

“Silas!” Morticia shrieked with laughter as she slapped his knee. “I swear sometimes you sound as if you’re in one of those nineteen fifties sitcoms. Listen. If you play your cards right, this man could be your ticket to fame and fortune. Travel, limousines, and bright lights all over the world. Forget relaxing him, shake what your mamma gave you and make him want to give you a contract.”

“Why on earth would I want anything to do with any of that?” Silas smiled gently at his friend. “I just sing. That’s all I want to do, and there…” He cocked his head, hearing the manager start to speak out on the stage. “That’s my cue. Have a great night, guys.”

Still shaking his head over the way his friends in the band seemed so keen for him to “make it” as they called it, Silas made his way to the back of the stage.

Crave wasn’t wrong. He’d spoken a number of times about how bands struggled to get regular paying gigs, and how grateful he was to Branson for giving them a chance.If this place works for you, why can’t I be happy with the same thing?

The crowd roared as Branson mentioned Silas’s name, and warmth flooded his heart. Smiling at the manager as the man relinquished his spot in front of the microphone, Silas stood in front of it, his eyes taking in the crowd. Every time he sang in the club, he would find one person—one person who might need his song more than anyone else.

And then he saw him: a huge tense demon sitting in the front row, screened off from the rest of the crowds, a gorgeously dressed demoness beside him looking like a cat that had gotten the cream.

You work it girlfriend,he thought, remembering that was an expression Morticia had used just the week before. Silas was fairly sure it applied. Catching the demon’s dark eyes, Silas said simply, “Hey.” And as the crowd went quiet, he closed his eyes and started to sing.

Silas didn’t notice the warmth of the light beaming down on his shoulders, or the hardness of the tiles beneath his boots. He became caught up in the music, releasing the cover lyrics out into the air, weaving a spell to all who listened. As the song meandered from his soul and into the night, he sang, “I want you to stay,” and thought about the demon with the intense eyes. But he didn’t dwell on it. That’s not what his singing was about.

Up and down, soft, and yet filled with the passion of the moment, Silas sang about staying, and going, about love and loss, and all the emotions life was full of. As he came to the end of the third song, he could feel the shift in the vibes, and he smiledas he opened his eyes, his voice holding out on the last few notes of his last song.

“That’s it,” he said with a quick bow, smiling at the demon with the beautiful lady beside him. “Have a love filled night.”

The light shut off, shrouding him in darkness as the crowd roared his name, but Silas had already left the stage. He waved in the open door of the dressing room as he went past, heading for the front door, smiling as he saw Branson waiting for him. “Thank you,” he said, as Branson held up his cash. “That was fun.” He took the notes and stuffed them in his pocket without counting them. He knew Branson wouldn’t shortchange him.

“Silas, can you stay behind a bit longer tonight?” Branson seemed anxious, and Silas looked around. Nothing seemed out of place.

“I’ve already sung three songs. Why would I need to stay any longer?”

“There’s a man here—a very important person. He runs a music production company…”

“Oh, yes.” Silas laughed. “Crave mentioned it. I presume that’s the man I saw in the front of the stage tonight. I hope he liked my songs.”

“Yes, I think he did.” Branson chewed the side of his lip. “Look Silas, he could take your singing to a whole new level if you signed with him. At least, if you could just take a moment, sit and have a drink with him so he could get to know a bit about you…”

“I hardly think he wants someone like me interrupting his time with his gorgeous date, and besides, I don’t need to be signed up by anybody to do what comes naturally.” Still chuckling, Silas patted Branson’s arm. “I’m perfectly happy with the spot you give me here. I don’t need anything else. Thank you and enjoy your night.” He skipped out past Lucas beforeBranson could say anything else, dashing over to where George had the taxi waiting for him.

“Some people are so damned entitled they think they can just park their trash anywhere they damned well please,” George muttered as Silas got in and closed the door. “The burger place around the corner is having a two for one special for the next hour. Is that where you want to go?”

“You do look out for me, George, thank you. That will do nicely.” George was a bear shifter. If he recommended somewhere, the food had to be good. “It’s been a strange night, that’s for sure.”

Leaning back against the seat, Silas closed his eyes and reached up, touching the leaves from his tree.You felt it too, didn’t you?He wondered if he might have changed his mind about having a drink with the demon if the man hadn’t been on a date, but then mentally brushed off the idea. Dashing demons weren’t known for being romantics, and Silas was someone who dreamed of love. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.

I hope my singing made you feel better,he cast out with a small smile as the taxi made its way to the burger joint. With a two for one special going, Silas could afford burgers for himself, Wanda, Dougal, and George. All in all, a successful night all round.

Chapter Four

Dakata

His skin hummed with the vibrations of the words even after Silas had left the stage. His presence affected both Dakata and his demon.

In all the years he’d worked as a producer, he’d never heard a raw talent like Silas’s. The innate goodness inside the dryad spun like a sparkling net he cast out to capture the hearts of those around him.

What the hell was he thinking?

Dakata scowled at the whimsical nature of his thoughts even as his dark gaze swept the room, noting the expressions of those who cheered for the man who slipped silently from the stage. Hunger. Desire. Lust. Want. Greed. Enjoyment. Contentment. Love.

He processed them and gave a death glare at the man projecting love tucked into the back of the club.