Page 5 of How Not to Date an Angel

Rami felt his cheeks heat. “An Airbnb?”

Julian stared blankly at them.

“Have you never been here before? To Earth?”

“Of course I have. I’m a messenger, after all.”

Ah. A messenger. Messenger demons were sent by hell to do just that: deliver messages. “You should be familiar with Earthly things, then.”

He shrugged, which, in his state, was quite impressive. “I am, a bit. Just not familiar with an Airbnb.”

“It’s a website where you book someone else’s home like a hotel.”

“Why would you want strangers staying in your home?” Julian asked with a frown.

Rami shook their head. “The homeowners aren’t usually there when the visitors are. In fact, from what I understand, companies buy homes exclusively to offer them to strangers for profit.”

Julian grinned up at him, teeth still bloody. “Diabolical.”

Rami didn’t answer, because yes, they thought so, too. But it felt wrong to agree with the demon.

“Oh, I get it,” Julian continued in their silence. “You’re saying I’m not welcome here,” he guessed.

“I—well…” When the demon put it like that, it sounded a bit heartless. And Rami very much wasnotheartless. They sighed and pulled the demon’s shirt down to cover his bruising. “You are in need, and I am not one to turn someone away. So I suppose you are welcome here while you heal.”

Then he could be on his malicious way out.

“How kind of you,” Julian scoffed.

“I’ve spent long enough here to know sarcasm when I hear it,” Rami scolded.

“Good for you,” Julian muttered.

Rami rolled their eyes, a very human expression of annoyance that they’d never had to borrow before.

They had a feeling that as long as this demon was in their home, they’d be using it quite often.

Julian

Julian sighed at the brush of the cool cloth against his skin. He winced at the dab of the gentle finger along his wounds, coated in a clear antiseptic gel. He slumped forward at the pain of the angel resetting his wing, maybe even sweated a little.

Fuuuck.

“There you go,” the angel said, voice utterly, despicably soft. They were so disgustinglygoodit was ridiculous, though Julian supposed it was working in his favor, so he couldn’t complain.

The relief was instant, though he knew the wing would be sore for days to come.

He could see now, without blood dripping into his vision, and he let the angel help him to hisfeet.

“Where’re your wings?” Julian asked, frowning at the absence of them at the angel’s back.

He pressed a hand gently into his own side, wishing they’d gone a little easier on the ribs. It wouldn’t kill him, really, but it sure as hell hurt a lot.

“I tucked them away before I answered the door. In truth, I thought you were my—“

There was a knock at the door, and they both froze, sharing a single stare, the angel’s filled with fear, and the demon’s brimming with irritation.

“Stay put,” they told him, and leaned Julian up against the wall by the stairs.

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