Jane's Demonic Baby

"Azalok?" Jane managed to ask. "And Alahna?"

"Azalok said he needed to go report something to someone back in Hell, and Alahna went to pick up some groceries and diapers and such, so they left me behind to watch over you. But now that you're awake, I'm afraid I must be going as well."

"So soon?" asked Jane, glancing up at Astarte, her attention mostly focused on the babe in her arms.

"Well as it happens, I have plans this evening. We have front-row tickets to Don Giovanni. Now that you're recovered from your torpor, I'm not about to miss the opera just for your company, as much as I enjoy it."

The door to the bedroom opened, and a powerfully-built young man entered, dressed in brown trousers and a blue sports coat. He had dark hair and handsome features, but there was a sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face. The boy clumsily bumped a side table, nearly knocking over a flowerpot.

"We should probably get going," he said. "Oh, hello, by the way."

"I told you to wait downstairs, Quentin," said Astarte, rolling her eyes.

"Hello," said Jane, looking curiously at the newcomer. "I'm Jane. Are you guys... going on a date?"

"It is not a date," snapped Astarte, standing in a huff. She was dressed up as well, Jane saw, in a black pleated skirt, patent leather boots, and a cream-colored blouse with shiny black buttons. "Quentin is merely accompanying me to the opera, as I had an extra ticket."

"I live around here," Quentin explained. "I'm in the same year as you at GMU."

Despite Astarte's protests, it had all the makings of a date, although they were an odd pair. Astarte was petite and slender, barely five feet tall, but despite that had the supercilious air of a lady of quality. Quentin, tall and barrel-chested, had the looks of a football player, but he gave off the vibes of a meek and thoughtful boy. Astarte and a human. Who would've thought?

"My number is in your phone if you need me, Jane," said Astarte. "But for now, we really must be going. Come, Quentin."

She swept from the room without another word, not bothering to look back. Quentin flashed her an embarrassed grin and waved awkwardly before turning to follow. When they'd left, Jane could only smile and shake her head in disbelief.

Her attention focused on the baby once more, still sleeping soundly in her arms. What shall I name you, little monster? She and Azalok had discussed the matter briefly, but nothing in particular seemed to stick. It shouldn't be something too obvious or commonplace, but not something overly weird and Biblical either. Horace? Alvin? Cornelius? Hmm.

She tabled the thought for later, and simply lost herself in holding the little demon, surprised at how tiny and delicate he felt after how ravenously he'd been feeding on her life essence a short time ago. Strangely, Jane didn't feel any resentment towards the babe for nearly killing her. Somehow, it felt as though she had only done her duty as a mother. And of course he's fucking perfect. Life was going to be pretty different now. Possibilities seemed to open endlessly before her, her mind flitting amongst each of them as she imagined what life with Azalok and the baby would be like. And Alahna, of course.

As Jane was lost in thought, the door to the bedroom opened again. She looked up, expecting to see one or both of her lovers, but instead a stranger stepped inside.

This stranger had something of an otherworldly and androgynous quality, though she was fairly certain he was a he. The newcomer was tall with a head of unruly, golden-blonde curls. He was incredibly handsome, his nose straight and aqualine, yet his cheekbones were soft, and his eyes were as blue as the ocean. The man wore a pair of pleated khakis, the kind that might have been fashionable about thirty years prior, and a pink and blue pastel dress shirt. The outfit gave Jane Miami Vice vibes. His smile was gentle and easy, his lips defined and expressive.

"Hello," he said, and his voice was pleasant and musical, a bit high-pitched for a man. "I am sorry to disturb you. I have heard there was a child of unusual qualities, born to a human and a demon, and I am curious to see it for myself. Might I be permitted to view the newborn?"

"Uhh," said Jane, disarmed by the man's otherworldly beauty and courtly manners. Alarm bells ought to have been going off. Here was a stranger, after all, ambushing her while she was in bed with her newborn child. And yet, Jane was struck by the overpowering feeling that there was absolutely nothing to fear from this person, and furthermore, that it would be highly improper to refuse his request. "Sure," she said at last.

"Thank you ever so much," he said warmly. "I cannot stay long, and I do not mean to intrude. But just a look will suffice, I think."

He stepped closer to Jane's bed, and she thought she smelled fragrance on him, something floral, with notes of lavender and anise. Gazing down at the babe in her arms, the stranger touched his lower lip thoughtfully with his long forefinger.

"Magnificent," he said. "May I...?"

Stretching out his hand, the man brushed the child's forehead with one finger. Jane felt somehow unable to protest, even if she had wanted to. The stranger gave the impression of peace and safety, but also radiated supreme confidence and self-possession. Her son's eyes fluttered open for just a moment, and she saw that the child had blue eyes, like his father, and like the stranger as well. The demonspawn regarded the man for a long moment, and then promptly closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

"A singular child," said the stranger. "I believe he will be a prince of demonkind. And, as such, I offer my blessings, as well as my profound congratulations."

"Oh, well. Yeah," stammered Jane, caught off guard and unsure how to respond. "Thanks, dude."

"You are most welcome," he said, smiling placidly, a warmth of feeling radiating from his beatific expression. "I am afraid I must now bid you farewell, Jane. There is much to do, and I fear I have tarried in this realm too long already. However, I do hope we meet again."

"Hey, um, me too, I guess. It was a pleasure to meet you."

The man with the golden curls and 80s attire strode for the door, moving with perfect grace. Just as he reached for the door, the door swung open and Azalok entered, holding a large package of diapers. For a moment the two men stood still, facing one another. An instant later, Azalok's dark eyebrows raised in surprise. Dropping the diapers, the demon fell to one knee, bowing his head low.

Azalok, Fallen Watcher, Marquess of the Umbral Plains, Commander of Hell's 66 Legions, genuflected with supreme deference before the stranger.

But the unusual man simply nodded his head in return, touched Azalok gently on the shoulder, and then swept from the room. Azalok rose to his feet, staring after the stranger for a moment, disbelief written on his stubbled face.

"Who was that?" asked Jane.

"That," said Azalok, "Was Lucifer Morningstar."

~~~~~~

WARNING! END NOTES APPROACHING!

Well, my friends, I hope this was worth the wait! I know that for many, the interval between my previous work and this submission may have seemed excessive, and for that I apologize. In addition, as usual, I have probably included an inordinate amount of smut at the expense of plot. Please forgive me.

This story does have a somewhat conclusory tone, although I think there are many directions these characters might go in future installments. However, I confess to being somewhat unsure of what to write next. Any suggestions that you might have to offer would be kindly and graciously received. Until next time, I wish you all good fortune and happy reading!

AUTHOR'S NOTES CONCLUDED. YOU'RE GONNA CARRY THAT WEIGHT.