Chapter Ten
It didn't occur to Crowley that the brothers might not want him bunking down in their cabin, but given that he had nowhere else to go, it had been the only course available to him. Besides, it would only be temporary. Eventually, he'd be able to take them elsewhere, far from the creeping fingers of Abaddon and anyone else who might seek to hurt them.
Murron had been a demon for two days now. Sometimes Crowley would catch her looking at her hands, marveling at them, flexing the fingers as if to remind herself she could control them. She spent a great deal of time in front of the only mirror in the cabin, turning this way and that. She'd grown remarkably sultry, something that should have excited him. Instead, it worried him. Oh, he knew she wouldn't be the same after the tranformation, but this new Murron was so alarmingly changed, he wasn't sure what to make of her.
They'd barely landed in the cabin when she'd jumped on him. He responded in the usual ways, able to overlook the foreign body that lay beneath him, the lips that ravaged his to the point of bruising. The memory of her tenderness haunted him. That was the Murron he'd wanted to be reunited with, not a wanton shadow of her. Everything he'd feared had come to pass and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue with this Murron.
On the evening of the third day, Murron looked pointedly at Crowley and asked, "What's wrong with you?"
Crowley feigned ignorance, shrugging. "Don't know what you mean, love."
"No, there's something wrong. You haven't been talking to me like you used to. Is it the body? I can get another one. I'm sure I have a doppleganger in the world somewhere. Here, I'll go get another one and -"
Crowley stilled her with a touch. "That's not necessary." He frowned and sighed. "Maybe it's the humanity, maybe it's because I never imagined you as a demon, but..."
"But?"
"I have to get used to you this way, that's all," Crowley finished quietly. "When I set to get you out of Hell, it was to bring you back to your human life. Then you decided to help Sam and all of that went out the window. I hadn't planned for this."
"You don't like me as a demon?" Something like remorse entered her voice and Crowley looked at her. In the brilliance of the strange eyes he saw a glimpse of the Murron he knew and loved peering out at him. He glanced away for a moment, slipping his fingers between hers and holding her hand firmly. "I can really protect you now. I'm not a weakness anymore."
"So, you are still in there," Crowley remarked gently, smiling. "Only my Murron would think about my protection."
"I never stopped being your Murron, Crowley," she said, clearly injured. Her brows drew down over her eyes as her gaze drifted from his. "It's weird for me, too. I'm suddenly full of urges, violent, sexual urges. I want to make someone's life miserable, but at the same time, I want to...well, I want to stay here and fuck your brains out until we're both bruised and bleeding. Between the killing urges, all I want is you. It's like a physical pain when I'm not next to you, more than it ever was in life. What is that?"
"Natural good looks and charm?" Crowley quipped. She clicked her tongue impatiently. "I don't know, darling. I never bothered to think about it much."
"You told me once that demonic love was possession. Has my love for you turned possessive?"
"It's possible. I can own that I love you now, but it's still a possessive kind. I'd kill for you."
"I'd kill for you, too." She laughed suddenly and he blinked. "Is that where our sentiment is now? Expressing our devotion by saying we'd kill for each other?"
Crowley grinned. "Sounds about right. Though, I am curious about one thing."
"What's that?"
"Sam was trying to 'cure' me before he stopped the trials. To turn me human again. Do you think you'd want to be human again, for him to cure you?"
Murron considered this. "Is it as bad as being turned in the first place?"
Crowley raised his brows, recalling the vicious, not-too-pleasant delivery Sam had with the injections. "I think it depends on who's doing the curing," he said, absently rubbing the side of his neck at the memory.
"Would you cure yourself, too?"
Now, that, Crowley hadn't thought about for himself. He didn't enjoy the weaknesses being a human brought nor would he relish the absence of power. He'd been a demon for so long he couldn't even remember what it was like to be human. At least he'd be able to keep his preferred body. Scarred and maimed though it was now.
Murron suddenly started waving her hands about, as though struck with a flash of brilliance. Crowley stared at her, waiting. "Do you think Gabriel would still give me my body back even if I'm not human anymore?"
"Tired of your new look already?"
"Oh, she's fine, but it's noisy in here. I also miss my hair. It's so straight and...straight!" She tugged at the ends of her hair for emphasis. "I used to want straight hair, but now that I have it, it's boring! I also don't like the color. Too dark."
Crowley laughed. "Your priorities are right where they should be, darling. And I don't know, we can ask Gabriel. I don't know how pleased he'll be to find that our original deal has gone in an entirely different direction. He might not be as willing to listen. He may just say 'That's your lot' and go."
"But we can at least try, right?" Murron pressed a little wheedlingly. Crowley smiled and pat her cheek.
"Of course we can. I miss your freckled face, anyway."
"I know what you miss," Murron teased, cupping her breasts and pushing them up. "You miss the ones I used to have! Admit it!"
"Good God, woman!" Crowley laughed. Okay, demon Murron was certainly more entertaining. Gone was the shyness, the reluctance to take advantage of her relationship with him. Those things had irritated him considerably during their year together; to have them gone now was almost a relief. He loved her for her sweetness of nature and driving need to protect him, but he could have done without her slightly prudish approaches to the bedroom.
But he had to admit that he did prefer her real body. The one she wore now was fine, but it wasn't the one he'd lost himself in time and again. Would Gabriel do it? Had the rules of the game changed now that Murron had been turned? There was only one way to find out.
Murron stared around the former site of her home, a strange look crossing her face. Crowley had just finished a common summoning spell and was coming up to stand beside her when the same scent of incense and warm feathers washed over them. As before, Kali and Gabriel stood, the angel looking a little less haggard, some feet away.
"Now, that wasn't part of the deal, Crowley," Gabriel quipped, glancing at Murron.
"I know it wasn't. It was an...unforeseen circumstance," Crowley explained. "Still, I am willing to go through with the terms if you're willing to restore her body."
"What, so she can possess it?"
"Yes," Murron interjected, stepping forward. She squinted at him curiously. "How strange. I can see you, really see you. How I must look to you."
"Not very pretty if it must be said," Gabriel replied casually. Kali made a small exasperated noise. "Don't dig on the whole body swapping thing?"
"Not really, no. I miss my own body."
"Y'know, most demons don't get to occupy their original bodies twice," Gabriel pointed out languidly. "If your boyfriend there hadn't tried to make a deal with me, the angel of resurrection, thank you very much, I'll be here all weekend, you wouldn't even have a chance in, dare I say it? Hell, at getting your own body back."
"So you'll honor it still?" Crowley asked.
"Hold your hellhounds there, kingy," Gabriel put up his hands. "I never said that. You haven't given up your crown, have you? No, you haven't. That was the deal, those were the rules. Chuck the crown for your girlfriend. From what I can see, it's still sitting on your pretty lil' head."
"I would have fulfilled my half of the bargain if I hadn't been taken in by Abaddon and her cronies. The game's changed, angel. I can't do anything about that now."
"But you can still give it up. Saunter back downstairs, give your two weeks, take a bow, and come back here and bam. Girlfriend's got her body back and you guys can go be lovey-dovey demons somewhere far, far away from me."
"Is there a problem, demon king?" Kali asked.
"Abaddon still wants my head on a silver platter. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm still smarting from her last temper tantrum."
"Hey, take your time. I'm not goin' anywhere," Gabriel said, shrugging. "Just don't take too much time or the missus there might get comfortable."
"I doubt that," Murron said. Gabriel shrugged again.
"Not my problem. Ciao, kids." Gabriel vanished in another flurry of beating wings, taking Kali with him.
Murron drew closer to Crowley in silence, her eyes turned skyward. Crowley gripped her hand where it rested on his forearm, squeezing it firmly. "We can't go back to Hell, not if you're still hurting from Abaddon's torture," Murron murmured. "You should rest."
"Yes," Crowley agreed. "But not at the cabin. We need our own...home." He smiled softly at the word. Home. Yes, just as it was then. They needed their own home. Living at the cabin was no longer an option. It left them too exposed. For what they needed to do, for what Crowley needed to do, they had to duck out of sight.
"Don't suppose you remember how to do those blood sigils, love?" he asked her. Murron's smile blossomed into a grin and she nodded. "Good. Let's go house hunting."
With Murron's newfound demonic nature came the love of ostentatious material possessions, beginning with their new "house". They spent the better half of the following day blinking in and out of cities, country roads, and rich suburbs, looking for just the right spot. It wasn't until they'd landed in upstate New York that Murron stilled Crowley's rapid teleporting.
"That. I want that," she pointed at an impressive manor house. Crowley made an appreciative noise and took them to the front doorstep. An elegant Cadillac sat in the cobblestone driveway, pure black, shining as though freshly washed and waxed. An assortment of tasteful decorations littered the front of the house; the lawn was abundant in plantlife, from exotic flowerbeds to bowing willow and cherry blossom trees. A paved walkway led from the driveway to the front door, which was elegantly carved with medieval scrollwork. A heavy brass handle matched the lionhead knocker set into the upper panels of the door. It was classic without being garish and suited both demons' tastes.
"Good choice, darling," Crowley purred, taking her arm and leading her up to the front door. "Let's let the owners know we'll take it."
Murron bit her bottom lip in gleeful anticipation. She hadn't had the opportunity to try her new abilities, Crowley knew, and was undoubtedly eager to flex her muscles. So as not to keep her waiting, he snapped his fingers and the door swung open. They stepped inside, arm in arm, like a pair of returning monarchs, heads held high and eyes flashing their respective red and black.
They made short work of the aristocratic 'old money' owners, dumping their bodies in the basement with all the pomp and ceremony two demons looking for their first love nest could muster. Once claimed, they walked through the house, taking in the fine rooms, elegant antique furniture, and lavish decor. It was the ideal dwelling for two lovers separated for too long. Upon discovering the master bedroom, they fell to celebrating in their own way, making love long into the night.
The wounds on Crowley's chest and abdomen steadily began to heal under Murron's careful hand. Even as a demon, she put Crowley first, looking for ways to make him comfortable and happy over her own needs. His needs had always been her needs and this had not changed. It had been a driving force in life and was now an even greater influence in everything she did. She let him guide her into this new life, deferring to his every command and piece of advice with a sacred reverence, as though his word had become her gospel. She was the ideal servant, lover, and student. In Murron, all of the love and respect his own kind had denied him dwelt within her, as it had when she was human. Only now it was different, potentially more meaningful, as now she could share in his desires, needs, and wants, even with the burden of humanity.
While her humanity had been snuffed out by Sam's efforts, she didn't seem to mind Crowley's. It hadn't dulled him to the point of being too emotional to function. He was more open with his feelings for her, but no longer seemed to allow it to affect him. It was with joy he reflected on their original year together, genuine tender joy, one that she could reciprocate with or without her humanity.
They'd been in their new home for a week when Murron began to notice real improvement with his wounds. She had him stretched out on the bed, his shirt open and loosened from his trousers. She leaned in to inspect the small pockets of scar tissue where Abaddon's tormentor had cut into him, her fingers coming up to gently slide over them. "I could kill her for doing this to you," she whispered savagely, hatred burning in her eyes.
Crowley felt his heart jump in his chest to hear her speak so vehemently. It both excited and concerned him; she wasn't strong enough to take on anything as powerful as Abaddon, that was true. But to hear her say she would thrilled him. "Careful, love, you keep saying things like that and I might have to bend you over again," he teased, meaning every word of it. Murron's snarl melted into an amused grin. "However, all kidding aside, it would be best if you let me handle it. Now, don't look at me like that. I'm not doubting your strengths. You're just still so new to being a demon; I wouldn't want to put you at risk."
Murron leaned on one hand, lips pursing to one side as she stared down at him with perturbed increduality. Crowley slid a finger beneath her chin, encouraging her to relax her face, and said, "If she kills you, you can't ever come back, my darling. I won't lose you twice."
This soothed her ruffled feathers and she laid down beside him, her head coming up to pillow on his chest. He cradled her close to him, kissing her hair tenderly. She draped an arm over him and gave him a small, firm hug. "I don't want to die, either, Crowley, but I also don't want to be useless. I know I have a lot to learn - again - but don't shut me out. Don't make me sit back and wait while you risk your own life. I can't lose you. Period."
"You won't. Nothing can come between us now," he assured her. "Not even Abaddon. I'll give up my throne, which should satisfy her, and then we can go away. I'm so tired of this fight, Murron. I thought ruling Hell would be enough for me. I thought I could make it better. And for awhile, I might have done. Then the Winchesters began the trials to close down the gates of Hell and I was forced to retaliate. My hold was still incomplete, but as I was the only one occupying the throne, no one contested my rule. There were a number of miscreants, renegades, that sort of thing, but all those I took care of. Abaddon was a wild card; she hadn't been in Hell for a number of decades. Turned out she'd timeskipped when she was chasing the Winchesters' grandfather. It's all very complex. I just know I'm done. After Sam couldn't complete the final trial and cure me, I knew all I wanted then was you. Our year together had been so simple, so perfect, all I wanted was for it to be that way again. Odd, isn't it? Life being easier during the Apocalypse?"
Murron gave him another squeeze. "They say hindsight is twenty-twenty; seems to be the case here."
"Indeed."
"How will you give up the crown?"
"I would go back into Hell, but I don't think that's necessary. I could simply summon her, declare it then and there, and be done with it."
"Gabriel said you needed to do it at the center of Hell, on the throne itself," Murron reminded him. Crowley smirked.
"There is no actual throne. There is a 'seat' in the center of Hades where I declared my rule in the first place; it's possible he means that. I have to disconnect myself from Hell."
"How will that affect your powers?"
"I'll still be strong. That'll never change. Being king gave me a wonderful boost, but I was plenty strong as the Crossroads King."
"Can you take that on again, do you think?"
"The way things are now, I don't think so. No, I must give up everything, all of my titles and the rights that come with them. I won't miss it. I've got you now." He drew her closer and kissed her head again. Murron made a pleased noise and nuzzled her cheek against his chest. "And soon, you'll have your body back and it'll be like nothing's changed. Well, save you becoming a demon and me being saddled with a conscience."
"Small things," Murron said conversationally. "At least now I can protect you better. Now I can kill for you."
"Given enough time, we'll be a formidable pair, you and I," Crowley murmured, resting his cheek against her head comfortably and closing his eyes. "My Persephone."
Murron giggled a bit. "When did you think of that?"
"I've always thought it. My modern Persephone, companion to my mad Hades." There was a great tenderness in his voice as he finally gave breath to those words. "With or without my kingdom, you'll always be that to me."
Murron drew up to look him in the eyes. She blinked, revealing the midnight black of her demon eyes, and smiled. "And you'll always be my king, now more than ever," she vowed. Crowley leaned in and kissed her with all of the possessiveness his love demanded. She returned it with equal ardor, sliding up his body to curl her arms around his neck. He embraced her tightly to him, savoring the feel of her even in this foreign body.
Even if he did throw his crown away and no one would ever follow him again, he still had her. And with her new identity as a demon, they were more equal than ever. More than his Persephone: she was now his queen.