The Demon's Riddle (6 page)

Kerry sat down at the end of the couch, leaving some distance and expressing her hesitation in that way. She wanted to go to him, but she had to know more, to know what all this was about, before giving herself to him and being able to know completely.
 

"So...who were you?" she asked, her voice as soft as she had ever heard it.
 

Cavanaugh merely looked at her, in a way that made it impossible for Kerry to read him. She knew the answer to that question before she asked it, and he knew it as well, so the game of cat and mouse continued between them, each glancing at the other, then looking away.
 

"
Lermentov? Rubinstein?" Kerry smiled, teasing him with her flashing eyes. 

The pianist turned silent, licking his lips in a gesture that almost seemed to be timed, as if this was a measure of rest in the ongoing music between them. Still, he said nothing.

"The demon, then," she concluded. Her voice had turned low and throaty without her realizing it, and she wondered where it came from. Who was this new person inside her, confident and almost bold, seemingly in command of the situation? 

"I conducted this music," he stated simply. "In the beginning. In heaven."

Kerry gasped, then managed to catch her breath. She felt no fear regarding Cavanaugh's revelation, for reasons she couldn't even begin to understand. Instead she waited, knowing there would be more. 

"I chose an angel," he continued. "A soloist. She was brilliant. And beautiful."

He sighed, deeply. "I had eternal love, within my grasp."

Kerry waited once more.
 

"And I was cast out."

Finally she spoke. "Why?"

"Because it was not my place to do that," he explained. She felt his pain, and Kerry wanted to go to him, but she knew it wasn't quite time.
 

"And now?"
 

He turned to her and smiled. "You know the story. You've read it, you've performed it. And now it is inside you."

Cavanaugh paused. "Do you know what you have been given?"

Kerry smiled in return, her confidence beginning to flow again. "Of course," she replied, licking her lips.
 

"Tell me."

"Tamara," she said simply. 

Cavanaugh grinned, fully and broadly. "
Yesss!" he hissed. "Everything she was, you are. You have been infused with her spirit. Totally and completely."

Kerry gasped, knowing it was true. She was still herself, she knew that, but this explained the changes she had been feeling, fully and without question. Kerry took a deep breath, then another, and then she asked the final question.
 

"Toward what end?"

For the first time since she had met him, Cavanaugh seemed genuinely surprised. He paused, this time for more than a second, until finally he answered. 

"Balance."

This time it was Kerry's turn to go quiet. She frowned in confusion, then waited for more, knowing it would be coming.

"We find the ones who are fakes," he explained. "The hypocrites. The falsely pious. And we capitalize on their weaknesses."

She considered his answer, knowing this was what she wanted and what she had been born for as well. "Within the church?"

"Initially," Cavanaugh replied, his eyes widening with excitement. "But we will go further than that, ultimately."

"Toward what end?" Kerry repeated. 

Cavanaugh blinked, staring at her. "Simple. To take the music further."

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

He smiled. "You will." He took a deep breath, but Kerry remained puzzled. "Let me try to explain."

"Ok."

"Think of this music," he began. "To some, the original poem it was based on represents evil incarnate. And yet, in this form, changed around, it becomes church music."

Kerry smiled. "That's a very demonic concept. Does it work the other way around?"

This time it was Cavanaugh's turn to be puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Can you take church music and make it demonic?"

He laughed softly. "I believe that was called rock and roll," he replied slyly. "But to answer your question, yes, it can work that way as well."

"And when will that happen?" Kerry queried.

"You will see," he answered. "In time."

With that, Cavanaugh slid over toward her, slowly, making Kerry think of the serpent, so that she almost giggled. Instead, though, she drank him in with her eyes, luxuriating at the sight of him. He extended his hand and she took it, knowing what was coming next. Kerry followed him into the bedroom, wanting him, squeezing his hand softly. 

He walked her to the bed and laid her down gently. "Now it's time," he whispered. "For you to become like me."

She lay back, yearning for him, wanting him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. But he made her wait, telling her to take off her clothes, slowly, while he watched. A few days ago Kerry would have fallen apart in embarrassment at such a request, but now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and she removed her dress, watching his eyes following her. She looked for neither approval or disapproval, merely gauging the impression she was making on him. 

When she was almost naked, Cavanaugh came and sat on the bed next to her. He reached over and stroked her leg, and Kerry felt his touch, electric, as his hand came over her knee and up her thigh. In her mind she begged him to keep going, but halfway up her thigh Cavanaugh stopped and began to unbutton his shirt, shifting slightly on the bed so that Kerry could watch.
 

She devoured his body with her eyes as he peeled his shirt off, enjoying the sleek muscularity of him, wanting him to remove more. Once again, though, he stopped, this time turning his attention to her when he had finished undressing, leaning down and extending his mouth, using his lips to trace the path he had just covered, over her knee and up her thigh.
 

It seemed to take forever for him to make that journey, and he continued in the same manner for what seemed like forever, exploring every inch of her with his mouth and tongue. Kerry shifted several times to help him, moaning every time she moved, but he tempered her reactions, making it clear that he was in charge of this.

As he continued Kerry began to understand why he wanted it this way, that this was how he wanted them to come to know each other.

After the exploration Cavanaugh came on top of her, propped up on his elbows and knees, hovering, not quite touching her. She was unafraid of him now, having known his body and felt his mouth all over her, and she waited, smiling, longing, comfortable with whatever he was about to do to her. She hadn't told him that she was a virgin yet, but she knew now that it didn't matter, that he was simply destined to be her first.

He entered her slowly, and Kerry gasped, but only slightly, sliding her hips forward to meet him. Cavanaugh kissed her, and she took his tongue deep in her mouth, hoping she could excite him and get him to slide further inside. The tactic worked, and suddenly they were moving together, slowly, rocking as if they were together in a boat on the ocean, as if they had done this forever.

As he penetrated her, Kerry waited for the pain, having heard this was part of it, her first time with a man, if that was indeed what Cavanaugh was in any way. She braced for it, and Cavanaugh pushed her down, as if reading her thoughts, until finally Kerry relaxed, and every muscle in her body seemed to go liquid.

He pushed in, deeper, then deeper still, and Kerry felt nothing but pure pleasure as she took him in, wanting more of him, never wanting this to end. She locked her legs around him and pushed up, letting him know that she was ready for more, all of him, including the animal nature she knew was lying in wait until she was fully ready. 

He waited forever before he broke her, backing off, then pushing in again, then backing off once more. At first Kerry thought he was teasing her, but then she realized this was a process, yet another step in the way he wanted her to come to know him. There was a deeper rhythm to the way he was loving her now, and Kerry knew this was a signal to her, that she was finally ready.
 

She felt the exact instant when it happened, and Kerry let out something between a grunt and a scream, an animal sound that came from deep inside her, one that was
somehow both familiar and foreign at the same time. She felt her body lunge, pulling him in as he thrust, and Kerry felt the beginning of her first real orgasm, although she soon realized that it was actually her third or fourth, that she had had several smaller ones that sent up the giant wave of pleasure that rolled through her. 

As soon as it happened, though, Kerry realized that it was more than just an orgasm. Cavanaugh seemed to be growing bigger inside her, and when she looked up, he did indeed seem larger, his shoulders broader as he loomed above her. At first Kerry thought this had to be her imagination, so she blinked several times in the throes of her pleasure, but each time she looked up he was bigger than the last. And he filled her completely, pushing Kerry to her limits as the wave grew into another, then another, and finally still one more.
 

She had no idea how long all of this lasted -- it might have been hours, or even days, so completely did Kerry lose her sense of time. When it finally began to subside, though, Kerry began to understand what was happening to her. She felt the transference, something taking root inside her. Kerry could only describe it as his omniscience, the way he sense and knew things, and finally Kerry knew how that happened for him.
 

When it was over she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, knowing he was her world now as she felt the light heaving of his entire upper body. Kerry studied the ceiling as Cavanaugh's breathing slowly returned to normal, knowing as this happened that this evening had been as cataclysmic for him as it had been for her. They were one now, she knew that, but not in any sense of the way that happened for normal, human lovers. They would know each other's thoughts and feelings instantly, and that ability would be with them forever, regardless of what road Cavanaugh chose as he charted their path together.
 

They lay together like that for a long period, one Kerry knew had to extend for hours. Cavanaugh was virtually inert, except for the occasional kiss on her neck, or his hand reaching to stroke her hair. He was throbbing the entire time, inside her, and Kerry felt her insides moving with him, stretching to accommodate him.
 

Finally, though, he managed to rouse himself. Kerry knew seconds before he did this when it would happen, and she giggled in delight at the sensation of reading his actions in advance. He laughed and kissed her cheek, then rose quickly and helped her up without further fanfare, wrapping her up for a long, tender embrace after she stood.
 

With that, they made their way downstairs for the ride home. Everything about being on the motorcycle with him seemed totally natural now, and Kerry wondered how she had gone without this for so long, the feeling of being joined to him in this way.
 

He dropped her off close to the house, so that it was within sight, cutting the bike's engine to eliminate the possibility of discovery. Kerry knew she would be able to walk in and avoid her father's detection, and she giggled in delight again at the knowledge in advance that this would be happening.
 

She was filled with a delicate sense of nostalgia as she made her way to her bedroom, knowing she would be leaving this place soon, and she tried as hard as possible to soak in the memories in advance, so that they wouldn't fade once she left with Cavanaugh.

The time before the performance passed quickly, with none of the awkward nervousness and agitation that Kerry had felt after the previous rehearsals with Cavanaugh. She knew him now, and he was hers, to the extent that she could conjure him up at any time in her mind's eye and know where he was and what he was thinking. She also knew that he would know when Kerry was making contact with, something that would make little or no sense to those around them.
 

The time before the performance passed more naturally this time. Getting through the day at the church shop seemed simple and seamless, and Kerry found herself totally present in what she was doing, despite the distraction of knowing she was leaving with Cavanaugh looming on the horizon.

The hardest part, though, was noticing the way people looked at her. It didn't happen all the time with everyone, but Kerry could feel that those who knew her were seeing her in a different way. Whenever this happened, Kerry felt as if she was glowing, to the point where her best friend, Diane, finally asked in embarrassment if Kerry had a boyfriend or was pregnant.

They laughed endlessly about that when Kerry denied everything -- they had known each other since they were young girls, so moments like these happened every now and again, but Kerry sensed a vague disappointment from Diane when she failed to provide any girlish revelations.
 

Her father, however, was another story entirely. He noticed the difference in Kerry immediately, and began interrogating her regularly, trying to figure out what was going on. He, too, guessed at the pregnancy possibility; he wouldn't say anything about it, but Kerry could feel it in his thoughts and see it in his body language.

But it was easy to resist his inquiries, and Kerry took a series of small pleasures in being able to deny her father and resist his efforts to control her. He had always been able to embarrass her into revealing herself whenever something significant was going on in her life, but this time Kerry made herself blank and rebuffed him easily. 

Oddly enough, the final rehearsal was just as uneventful. The music itself came together seamlessly, and this time Kerry could sense the awe of the other choir members. But she was in another world with Cavanaugh, both literally and figuratively, and they simply enjoyed each other, ignoring whatever implications the sideways glances of the other choir members might imply.
 

Finally, Sunday arrived. Kerry went to the church early, but not too early, and put on her robes and vestments. She had sung in robes before, but somehow they felt especially regal today, and she loved the way they gently draped her form. She felt as if she belonged in them, and as she finished dressing Kerry could sense Cavanaugh, drawing closer, riding his motorcycle to the church.
 

Kerry also felt a deep sense of longing as he drew closer. Kerry missed him terribly now when they were separated, a sensation that started out as a mild, gnawing discomfort
that slowly grew into genuine agony, a profound hunger for him that Kerry could barely control. She knew he felt the same for her as well, for she could feel his thoughts and emotions at different times, especially when her desire for him was particularly sharp and acute. 

Nonetheless, Kerry avoided Cavanaugh when he first arrived, not because she didn't want to see him, but because she knew this separation was necessary. The first time she would see him would be when the service started, that was the way he wanted it, and Kerry understood the logic of his reasoning without having to ask.

It was the sheer power of the music itself that carried her through the service. Kerry could feel it growing with each hymn, the way Cavanaugh's power and presence had grown and spread through her during their first union. Her ability to sense the effect of the music on the congregation was more limited, but Kerry remembered seeing several parishioners gasp, including her father, as she powered through each hymn, bringing out the nuances Cavanaugh had showed her in the music.

The biggest surprise during the service came between hymns. Kerry took her seat alongside the choir, Cavanaugh behind her in the choir director's chair. She found it amazingly easy to focus on the service, which was almost miraculous given how her attention normally wandered, especially during her father's sermons.
 

But there was something else she noticed. As Kerry scanned the audience, she was able to pick out people who were ready to be turned, by her and Cavanaugh, people who had been damaged by the church and by religion, to the point where they were ready for some kind of overarching transformation. Some were young, a few were comfortably ensconced in mid-life, and there was even an older woman whom Kerry knew somehow was ready for a profound change in her life of some sort.

It was as if these people were glowing when she looked at them, and at one point she turned to Cavanaugh when she realized that he also saw something different about the same boy they were both looking at in the congregation. He nodded, then smiled, communicating to her through his thoughts that these would be the people they would change and then utilize. But he also communicated to her that it was not time for that right now, that Cavanaugh had a different plan for that to happen, later on, when they were gone from this place. 

When the service ended, Kerry joined her father at the entrance to the church, greeting the parishioners, just as she always did whenever she performed as a soloist. This time the praise for her was more effusive, though, and she could sense her father's growing resentment and frustration at the lavish compliments heaped on her by parishioners who usually never commented on anything that happened during a given service.
 

After the church was empty, her father looked at her, a question in his eyes, wondering if she was coming inside to change out of her vestments and then meet him for the ride home, the way she always did. But Kerry shook her head and said no, then turned toward the side of the church, indicating that she needed to walk a bit to clear her head. He nodded, puzzled, and Kerry seized the opportunity she had created for herself, walking off before he could figure out what was going on.

And she actually did walk for a little bit. Being out in the open air clarified her thoughts, even though it had seemed as though they were well ordered in her mind. She found Cavanaugh out in the back of the church, his motorcycle rumbling quietly and faithfully, as if waiting patiently for him. He was still in his suit, somehow he had found a way to get rid of the vestments, and she went to him, shivering as he took her in his arms.

They embraced for a long time, a period that seemed like it might be forever to Kerry, for this was where she belonged, and it was where she would always belong as well. He was home for her, she knew that, regardless of where they were going next, and Kerry actually felt a small jolt of physical pain when they finally separated.
 

She watched him mount the bike as he donned the leather jacket, an awkward combination with the suit coat. He put the helmet on, and Kerry smiled to herself at the significance of these small gestures had had for her just a day or two ago, how much she had invested in them. Then she joined him, slowly, feeling infinitely more confident doing this now. Kerry put her arms around him, and finally this allowed her to exhale when she was joined with him again, back where she belonged.

The ride through town seemed natural now, despite the stares of the various churchgoers, for they no longer bothered to hide themselves and the fact that they were together now. They would be an item if they stayed here for any length of time, Kerry knew that for a fact, and she also knew that surprise and wonderment would quickly change into resentment and then hatred when the people of McCord began to truly realize how different they were.

They would be long gone well before that happened, though, and Kerry felt a mild curiosity about where they were going, even though she already had a pretty good idea of what would happen next based on the newfound strength of her connection with Cavanaugh.

He took her back to the warehouse, making sure as they left town that no one had followed them out of curiosity. Kerry knew what kind of place McCord really was, so she was aware that it was necessary to do this. But she still hated the fact that it was necessary, and she wondered if they would ever find a place that was genuinely home for both of them, knowing now that in reality they were home for each other.

When they got to the warehouse Kerry had an odd moment of
deja vu, recalling the strange feeling of alienation she experienced after arriving at Cavanaugh's hidden apartment several days ago. This passed quickly, though, once she was inside, her arm wrapped tightly around Cavanaugh's waist as they entered the apartment. The presence of the pianos served as a reminder of the music that bound them together, and memories of the service came flooding back to her, overwhelming whatever discomfort she might have felt. 

Kerry replayed the music in her mind, letting it surge through her. As much as she wanted to compare it to what she had done at Oberlin, she simply couldn't -- there was no relationship to any music she had heard from any other composer, and it even surpassed the original version that Cavanaugh had taken and transformed. Cavanaugh had simply owned it and made it his with his arrangement, infusing it with a special power that Kerry knew she would never hear or feel again from any human composer.
 

As soon as they arrived at the apartment Cavanaugh led her straight to the bedroom. This time he was the one to disrobe slowly, after he directed her to sit at the foot of the bed and watch. This gave Kerry a chance to take in his body in a different way, slowly
and patiently, that she hadn't had the first time he took her. Cavanaugh smiled as he undressed, watching her reaction. He was lean and muscular, and his confidence in his appearance was obvious. 

When he was done he lay back, and extended his hand, palm up, a silent way of telling Kerry to do whatever she wished. She already knew what he wanted, and it was what she wanted as well. She took her dress off, leaving her panties and bra on for a moment. She was going to do her exploration partially clothed, and then she took them off, realizing that she wanted to be totally naked as she took full possession of his body.
 

She did this slowly, initially following the path Cavanaugh had taken with her the first time, making her way up his ankle, calf, knee and thigh. Then she flipped the script, literally and figuratively, directing him to turn over and lay face down. She got on top of him, so that he could feel her dripping on him, and she began to kiss his neck and face, reaching beneath him to explore his chest. Cavanaugh lifted himself slightly so she could do this, and they both became more aroused in this position, Kerry could feel him growing as her hand made the journey down his belly.

When Kerry was done exploring, they became animals. This occurred simultaneously, for both of them -- suddenly, there was no need for the niceties of human lovemaking and the push and pull that defined the interchange between lovers. She flipped him back over, and he grabbed her, catching the flesh of her hips, his touch slightly rough with urgency.

Kerry responded in kind, pushing his shoulders down, and positioning herself over him. The human part of her wanted to tease him, to heighten his arousal, but she could feel the fullness of him beneath her, and she needed that, deep inside her, as deep as he could go. So she thrust downward, hard, and he entered her, so hard the Kerry felt herself emit an involuntary grunt that emanated from far inside her belly.
 

He pushed up, and Kerry slammed him down, and this time it was his turn to moan, a deep guttural sound that spurred her on. The rhythm of their movements increased, as did the violence of it, so that they were surging in a wave together.
 

With another human this would have ended instantly, and part of Kerry was still prepared for that, the immediacy and instant gratification. But suddenly she felt the fury of the demon take control over Cavanaugh, and that energy roared through her as well, for it was part of her now. This went on for hours, neither one tiring of the sensations, the volume of their moans and howls increasing as their lovemaking went on and on.
 

It lasted through the afternoon and most of the night, something Kerry would have thought impossible a few days ago. She thought she'd be spent when it was finally over as dawn crept up on them, but instead Kerry felt energized, even though they barely slept at all until light finally began to creep in the windows of the loft apartment.

They did sleep for a couple of hours just before dawn, Kerry sprawled on top of Cavanaugh, with Cavanaugh still inside her. When they finally rose this seemed normal and natural, to sleep this way, and Kerry knew her transformation was almost complete, for she was finding it almost impossible to think the way she had a few days, in the fashion of a young woman. 

Neither one spoke when they got up. Cavanaugh began to prepare breakfast and Kerry cleaned up the bedroom, smiling at the domesticity of it all. They showered together, slowly and intimately, then had their first meal together, the silence still eminently comfortable between them.
 

They cleaned up together after the meal, and Cavanaugh began to pack, preparing for travel. Kerry knew where he was going now, and what they were going to do together, that information and knowledge had come to her in some way she could barely explain during their lovemaking. She knew they would be coming back here, eventually, but she had no idea when, or what the circumstances would be when they finally did.