The Curse of the Sun and the Moon

Self-hating werewolf, Rosen, has found the cure to the werewolf curse that has condemned her since childhood.

She will need the help of Laurent, a pretentious, too good-looking for his own good, fire demon to succeed in breaking the Moon Goddess curse.

With the magical Moon mirror in hand, will Rosen be able to do what needs to be done? Will she be able to let go of the one thing she holds dear for a chance to become fully human?

Cover by the Fantabulous @AuRevoirSimone. she don't do request tho.

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8. The Devil’s on his way.

I had commandeered Laurent’s car, a flashy little Toyota Prius. It was either that or chug my trailer through the streets of Boston. I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the doors. A Fire demon who drove a Toyota Prius -- his lameness truly knew no bounds. I threw him back the keys.

“You drive. To your place.”

We drove through downtown Boston in silence. I sighed and fiddled with the radio; my hand paused as the famous drum intro to ‘Superstitious’ blared on the speakers.

I seriously had an uncanny ability to prompt the right songs to play at the perfect moments.

“I got magic fingers. I swear,” I said as I stared at my slender hands.

Very superstitious

Writings on the wall

Very superstitious

Ladders bout to fall

I couldn’t help but sing along to my favorite song of all time; things were going according to plan and I was in a fantastic mood. “When you believe in things you don’t understand and you suffer!”

Laurent kept his gaze on the street, gracing me with his indifference. I shrugged and continued to snap my fingers and sing out loud.

We stopped at a red light.

“Look, wolf,” Laurent hissed. “You have the most miserable voice I have ever heard. Stop singing.”

I could not deny it any more. He was attractive – ridiculously attractive – and I loved to annoy him, as it was the only way to get any sort of reaction from his demonic uppity self.

I shook my head as I continued with my awe-inspiring performance. The light turned green and Laurent slammed on the gas.

Why was he so angry? I only kidnapped and bound his ass for my rather selfish reasons; was that really a reason not to enjoy Stevie Wonder? Fucking buzz kill.

“Very superstitious. The devil is on his way!” I looked over at Laurent and laughed. “That’s you.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Are you a thirteen month old baby?”

He said nothing.

“From the looking glass?” I waved the Moon mirror at his face. He let out a heavy controlled breath. I snickered. “I could always command you to sing with me.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered as he pulled up to his swanky loft.

The obsidian building was fancy in a modern way. Laurent drove into the secured parking lot, shutting out the bright Bostonian sun. We walked to his loft and I was left in awe.

The interior was just exuberant as the outside.

I whistled as I walked through his apartment. His style was just as French and pretentious as him. Everything was simple, yet elegant, black and white -- very European. I was as out of place there as a vampire frolicking out in the daytime.

“You live like this on a librarian’s salary?” I asked as I plopped down on his leather sofa.

He glared at me from the door. “I used to model.”

Ah, that explained the photo.

I lay on the couch, making myself very much at home. It definitely beat my rugged way of living.

Laurent D’incendie slammed his door shut and walked over to the living room. He crossed his arms about his muscled chest and asked, “What is that you want, wolf?”

I closed my eyes, letting my body enjoy the softness that I rarely ever encountered.

“First of, the name’s Rosen. Rosen Dae. So you can stop being a jerk.”

I opened my eyes and sat up. I pulled my pistol from my black leather boot and slammed it on his elegant glass table.

“And you will help me break this werewolf curse.”

Laurent glanced down at the gun with complete indifference. He sat across from me and asked, “And what will I get in return?”

I was surprised that my gun didn’t faze him. I bit my lip. What did he want in return? What the fuck did he think this was? I wasn’t there to bargain.

“You will do as I command.” I pointed to my black leather jacket, where I had the mirror.

Laurent continued on as if I had not spoken, “I want my freedom.”

I blinked at Laurent. “Your freedom?”

He sighed. “Yes. I want to be free of the demon.”

What in the hell---

“Are you hunted?” Laurent asked.

“What? No – “

He smiled a slow unnerving wolfish grin. “You are a hunter.” His condescending tone made his statement sound like a question.

“Yes. Pretty damn good one too.”

“I am hunted,” Laurent frowned. “My whole family. They have been hunted and killed. We lived like sheep, afraid of anyone. Distrusting of everyone. You know why?”

I was mildly curious and so I shrugged.

“For our blood. The blood of the last Fire demon clan.”

“Werewolves hunted you?”

Laurent smirked. “Werewolves.” He glared at me. “But mostly vampires.”

“Vampires?” I was intrigued. “Those little shits?”

“The blood of the Fire demon is a cure for many supernatural ailments,” He ran a hand through his beautiful dark locks. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I really wanted to run my hands through his hair too.

He smiled at me as if he heard my thoughts. “If a vampire drinks the blood of a Fire demon they will be able to walk during the day. How lovely would that be, wolf?”

I felt my body go cold. Fucking vampires. They really were the douchebags of the super-naturals.

“I will help you if you help me,” Laurent stated. “My blood will help break the werewolf curse, but in return you must promise to set me free of the demon. With out the demon my blood is useless.”

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

He shrugged. “There is a way. But you must promise to help me as I will help you.”

I glared at the intoxicating man before me. I didn’t have to do anything. He was the one who was at my beck and call. He was the one who if I said ‘jump’, he would reply, ‘how high my glorious and fucking fantastic master.

Bitch, I didn’t have to do shit.

“No, thanks,” I replied. “I think you’ll help regardless of whether you want to or not.” I patted my jacket.

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter and propped his feet on the table. “What now?” 

“Two weeks until the blood moon. I will drink your blood and be free.”

Laurent arched an eyebrow. “Simple enough, I suppose.”

I shrugged. “Very.”

“Although, I wonder if you know of the ritual? Will you be preforming it by yourself? I doubt the curse will be broken otherwise.”

I glared at him. He was obviously trying to bait me.

“You do not have to take my word for it. You can risk your one chance of breaking the curse once and for all for your … pride.”

I clenched my fists. Fucking asshole. But what if what he said was true? I didn’t have any details beside the fact that I had to drink his demonic blood. I had no idea how to do it or what to do or even how much to drink.

Laurent ran a hand through his luscious dark locks. “So? What will it be?”

I wanted to punch the satisfied smirk of his face. Stupid, French prick. "I could just command you to tell me."

He smiled. "You could command me to do things -- do anything." He looked me up and down with a sly smile on his face. "But you cannot control what I say."

Behind clenched teeth, I said. “I promise to grant you your freedom. Now, tell me about the ritual.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. “I hope you understand that I cannot take your word. No matter how trust worthy you may be.” He glanced at the gun between us and pulled out a Swiss army knife from his pocket.

“We will have to make a blood pact.”

I groaned -- again with the blood. What the fucking hell …

“I will need you to place the mirror here.” He pointed to the table. I squinted at him.

“Do not worry. I cannot touch that thing.”

I placed the mirror between us.

Laurent sat up and smoothly ran the knife across his palm and squeezed his hand on top of the mirror’ surface.

I watched as black drops of blood smeared the mirror's surface.

Black blood.

Demon blood.

I watched, hypnotized as the blood shimmered.

Laurent turned to me. The devilish grin bright on his face.

“Promise, that you will set me free,” he whispered. His eyes were cool and mesmerizing. I felt as if I was falling into a dark abyss, indefinite and cold.

I felt a shiver go up my spine. He was so beautiful, this Fire demon … so beautiful and so very close.

He softly grasped my hand and a sweet warmth tingled up my arm. I was captivated. I knew I shouldn’t, but I wanted him.

He came closer, so close I could smell the slight spicy aroma of his cologne, so close the tendril of fragrance wrapped itself around me, leaving me in a lustful haze. So close his lips were to mine -- only a whisper away from embracing mine. I looked back to his eyes; they were dark yet pleading …

“Promise me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and low. He lethargically ran a finger up and down my arm, making me bite my lip in an effort to keep from exploding. Tingles shot all through me as his finger made its way lazily around my palm.

“I-I …” I couldn't say it. I couldn't. I shouldn't ...

He licked his lips and whispered, “Promise me ... Rosen.”

That was it. The way he said my name, in that annoying and irritatingly beautiful way –  He broke my resolve and I croaked,

“I promise.”

I closed my eyes for the kiss I knew he wanted nearly as bad as I. I closed my eyes, for his lips to cover mine.

Instead a sudden pain cut through my hand.

I opened my eyes to behold my bleeding wound. “Fuck!” I cried as a pain seared from my palm.

Laurent firmly grasped my arm and held it out above the mirror.

I watched as my blood and his mixed on the mirror's surface, as the black and the crimson molded and mixed and were swallowed by the glass.

I watched in horror as Laurent let go of my arm, my skin already beginning to bruise from his tight hold.

I watched as he backed away from me with a smug smile on his face.

Vous avez promis,” he smirked.

You have promised.

 

 

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