Page 40 of The Devil's Dilemma

He left the apartment, and I turned off the lamps. I pressed the button to close the blinds, leaving the room in semi-darkness, but as tired as I was, sleep evaded me.

I lay awake, listening for any sounds that Austin had woken up, but everything remained silent. Not even the sounds of the casino downstairs infiltrated the apartment.

I’d wished for something exciting, something new. Sometimes you needed to be careful about what you wished for.

Austin had come into my life when I’d thought about moving on. No way I could do that now. If the angel mark had been breached, there was a chance that every demon within five hundred miles would sense him and come here.

I’d got him into this mess. Admittedly, it was inadvertent, but nonetheless, I had taken him captive. I had touched the mark and removed the protection. That made him my responsibility.

One question I’d failed to ask was why I didn’t have the compulsion to kill him now the mark had been broken.

I’d drive myself mad trying to sort it out in my head. I needed to sleep, but it wouldn’t come.

I lay awake on the sofa.

Several times, I slipped into the bedroom, but he didn’t wake up. How long would this go on for?

Earlier, I’d not really had a chance to look too closely. I’d been more concerned with what he could do.

But now, standing over him, I realised how very different we were. How my looks identified me with light, yet his were darkness.

I’d stared deep into his brown eyes, trying to fathom what lay beneath them.

He was shorter than me, slight in stature, whereas I was strong and muscled. Austin had what I would now identify as a halo of brown curls that framed his face with little to no stubble. Unusual for a man his age, but considering what I knew now about his possible heritage, it made total sense.

Angels tended to be soft of skin. If I had to describe him, angelic or cherubic would be an apt depiction.

There was no denying my attraction to him.

I paced the floor, still in my boxers, the room too warm.

Heat radiated from him like a furnace. It wasn’t natural to be so hot.

I grabbed the cloth again, doused it in cold water, sat on the bed, and wiped the sweat from his forehead and cheeks.

His breathing became laboured, and his eyes moved rapidly beneath the lids.

What the hell was going on?

I placed the back of my hand on his forehead. He was as hot as hell itself and showed no sign of cooling down.

Reluctant as I was to leave him, I went to the kitchen, emptied the ice tray, and wrapped the cloth around the cubes.

Moans and groans came from the bedroom, and I rushed back. Austin was shaking uncontrollably, his whole body quaking.

His head thrashed from side to side, and his flailing arms knocked the lamp from the nightstand.

I attempted to pin his arms to the bed, but he was surprisingly strong.

This couldn’t be good.

What else could I do? I stood back. His frantic movements shook the bed.

Had he been possessed? Pretty sure I’d know if that had happened.

Several moments passed. Moments I thought it was the end of him, but slowly his breathing returned to normal, his movements slowed, and his eyes flickered open.

“Where the fuck am I? And who are you?”