Page 37 of The Devil's Dilemma

Not dead, then. That was a relief.

But I didn’t doubt there would be consequences.

My touch would have removed the protection, leaving him exposed. The urge to keep him safe yet at arm’s length warred inside me.

“Stop being a fucking coward and pick him up.” And now I was talking to myself.

I slipped my arms around his back, scooped him up, and carried him swiftly to my bedroom.

I laid him gently on his back, the mark of the angel now a dark red against his white skin. It hadn’t looked like that before.

As he slept, I watched him, unable to tear my eyes away from him. Would he ever wake from the apparent coma he was in?

Was he sleeping or something more? Time would tell.

Goose bumps appeared on his skin, and I manoeuvred him so he was beneath the covers. Slowly colour returned to his cheeks, and his breathing became more even.

Fuck, I needed a drink.

I took one last look and walked back into the lounge. I poured a healthy shot of whisky and drank it in one.

What the fuck was I going to do now?

His clothes were scattered on the floor. I couldn’t leave them there, and he still hadn’t had a shower.

I picked up his clothes, shook them out, and folded them. A brown casino chip dropped on the floor.

It wasn’t one of ours. What was he doing with that?

I placed the clothes on the sofa and eyed the chip, reluctant to touch it with my bare fingers.

With a cloth, I picked it up and held it up to the light.

It warmed my hand, even through the cloth, and looked old and worn, nicked at the edge.

This chip was made of wood, whereas we used plastic ones.

I walked into the bedroom and put it on the nightstand. Maybe it was a lucky charm? Or carried sentimental value.

It didn’t feel right to throw it away.

Austin didn’t seem to have moved and didn’t look to be waking up anytime soon. The plan I had for him would have to wait.

Had things changed since the angel mark? It still didn’t explain his lucky streak, and that was what interested me.

I couldn’t let this get in the way of what I wanted. And what I wanted was answers.

My ego still wouldn’t let me forget how he’d bested me or how he’d escaped. He deserved much more punishment than I was willing to mete out.

But just because he carried the angel mark didn’t mean he was an angel, only that he had their protection.

And that raised even more questions. The answers might lie in his past. Likely, his parents were angels. Probably his mother or grandmother. The angelic line usually moved through females.

Perhaps a visit to his grandfather was in order, but he would want to know where Austin was and why I was keeping him captive.

I checked my watch. It was early afternoon. The casino would have been open for a couple of hours. Normally, I’d make my way down, but today was different. It wasn’t every day an angelic being collapsed on your floor.

I called Conrad.