Gifre
Legacy Name: Gifre

She ran her fingers through his long white hair, exploring the jeweled red horns that emerged from his scalp. He allowed his eyelids to droop, letting her believe he took pleasure in her touch. They weren’t true gems but the human mind couldn’t comprehend the subtle differences between gems cut from the earth and the horns of a Jewel Demon.

“I’ll bet it’s very beautiful where you’re from. Much better than this dull city.” Her fingers moved to the thick white feathers of his wings. “Tell me what your home is like.”

He trailed his fingers over her shoulder as she shuddered and moaned. Her body was so soft and fragile. He could snap her spine like a twig and crush her skull to powder. She would be too enticed by his beauty to notice. He restrained himself. If he killed her now, he would never obtain the treasure he desired.

“You can’t imagine the beauty of my homeland. Everything is formed of living crystals, colored to match the natural world. Each blade of grass and drop of water is a crystal filled with a light that cannot be extinguished.”

It was a line of crap but she would never notice. Her head was empty, sewn shut with an abundance of golden threads smeared with way too much hair product.

She moved to tracing the planes of his chest. “Will you take me there someday?”

Everything about the girl was annoying from her squeaky voice to the horrible floral perfume she smeared herself with. It was hard to resist the urge to cause her pain. “Whatever your heart desires. There’s just one little thing you have to do for me first.”

Her smile turned into a pout. “Daddy would kill me if he ever found out.”

Good riddance. “He’s such a rich man, and not just for the contents of his vault.” He gave her chin a gentle tap, imagining her jawbone coming out her skull. She blushed and giggled. “Surely one measly ruby is worth a trip to Paradise.”

He could not block the gem from his thoughts. It was not just a ruby. It was a flawless stone the size of a hen’s egg, better than any of the pieces in his collection. Collecting red gems was no mere hobby. It was an obsession impossible to ignore, it was more important to him than life itself.

“Will you really let me ride a unicorn?”

“Didn’t I say anything you want?” She could not sense the irritation in his voice as she snuggled closer.

“I’d have to do it at night.” She bit her lip. “You know how I hate the dark.”

He cupped her face in his hand, turning her to face him. “I won’t let you come to any harm.”

Her thoughts were clouded by his smoldering eyes. Pathetic. Her will was weak even for a human. He had conquered those few self-preservation instincts she possessed five minutes into their first meeting. Now she readily believed him.

There had been other women before her, many others. A rare few kept his attention for a week though he was bored with most after the first hour. They were easy enough to dispose of if they could not get him what he wanted. He never bothered to learn their names.

There was one who had left a mark, many years ago. In his mind he called her Duchess though in reality she had no ties to royalty. It was the proud way she carried herself and the jewelry box the size of a treasure chest that earned her the name. She had almost been interesting to listen to and it was cute when she tried to resist the effects of his presence. He wore her down in time. The string of garnets that had been in her family for six generations wound up in his display and her body was found the next day at the edge of the filthy river just starting to feel the effects of the new factory built on its bank.

Usually he would not waste so much effort on one girl. Her father’s security system was unique, though. It not only repelled human thieves but could detect the presence of demons. Very annoying. He’d almost lost a wingtip to a well-aimed laser beam when he’d tried to rob the old coot himself.

He watched her for a few days as she ran her father’s errands with a little basket over her arm. When he stepped into the light, blocking her path, she had been instantly dazzled.

It never ceased to amaze him how many dense human women truly believed he was an angel. What else could so glorious a being be? His skin was so pale and perfect, his white wings so flawless, that they could not think poorly of him.

His meetings with the jeweler’s daughter were discreet, held only when her father was setting jewels or taking one of his many naps.

The vault could only be opened by a voice command by her father though the device was not foolproof. The code was her name. Her father never noticed the tape recorder peeping out of her pocket when she asked for the story of how he had selected her name.

Gifre thought to rid himself of her once the tape had been delivered but when she handed it over she explained that only a human could safely enter the vault. It was well known that demons could imitate sounds and her father was taking no chances. The lasers were automatically set to destroy any non-human presence. Gifre had no desire to risk another amputation so the girl kept her life.

They always met in a rundown motel in a room he insisted the girl put in her name. She paused under the light of the neon vacancy sign, pulling the hood of her black jacket closer to her body as the wind picked up. Gifre insisted on accompanying her as far as the alley across the street from her father’s shop. The shop was located in a section of the city where prosperity had fallen to poverty and the owner was too much of a miser to relocate.

The girl clutched at Gifre’s arm, pleading with her eyes. He shoved her roughly in the direction of the shop, red eyes gleaming with greed. She crossed the street hesitantly, jumping when a cat streaked around the corner in front of her.

Gifre had insisted on a detailed description of the shop layout. He could visualize her every move. First she would tiptoe across the creaky wooden floor, walking between the display cases filled with junk. The jeweler had no idea that half his collection was fakes. Gifre smirked at the thought. She would insist on sneaking up the stairs to peer into her father’s room. The old man snored loud enough to rival a pride of lions. With his sensitive ears, Gifre could just distinguish the old man’s wheezing from the girl’s fluttery breaths. Now she would move back downstairs, pausing before the door to the vault. She would whip out the tape recorder before her courage entirely abandoned her, cringing as her father’s voice undid the lock. The vault latch would pop and she would take a moment to shoot a glance toward the stairs. The snoring droned on, a clear sign of success. She would enter the vault, pluck the velvet bag from its stand, and hurry out into the street.

Ten minutes passed. She was taking too long. Gifre ground his teeth in frustration. He could be in the vault in the time it had taken her to open the front door and now it looked as if the girl had lost her courage. An alarm bell split the silence of the night.

Her hood was pulled low to disguise her face as she dashed outside. Its rim flopped into her eyes as she launched herself from the curb, clutching the red velvet bag in her hands.

The jeweler pursued her, calling her out for a thief and commanding her to halt. He raised his ancient rifle, face turning purple with rage.

She was halfway across the street, sobbing Gifre’s name and begging for the protection he had promised. The old man’s shot caught her between the shoulders.

Gifre strode forward to snatch the bag from her weakening grasp, stepping back into the shadows before he could attract the jeweler’s notice. The old man’s cries rivalled the piercing shriek of the alarm bells as he realized what he had done. He stroked his daughter’s fair cheek, staring helplessly into glassy blue eyes.

Gifre was oblivious to the man’s pain. He pulled the ruby free of its slime-encrusted wrapper, discarding the bag and pocketing the gem. He had what he’d come here for. That was all that mattered.

Story by Pureflower