10. Austin

Chapter ten

Austin

W here the fuck was I, and who was the man standing next to me?

How had I got here? More to the point, who was I?

“Austin? Are you okay?”

Was I Austin? Was I okay?

I sat up, and the bedclothes fell to my waist, revealing a red mark on my chest. What the hell was that?

“Don’t touch it,” he said, his voice laced with panic.

I looked at the hot-as-fuck man standing next to me in just his boxers.

Had we been in bed together?

“Why not?” My voice broke, my throat as dry as a desert.

“Wait there.” He walked from the room, returned a moment later, and handed me an open bottle of water. “Drink this.”

I did as he said and propped myself up on the pillows. Why was I in this bed? Was I ill?

My skin felt clammy, my muscles ached, and I was so hot. Was I coming down with a fever?

“Do you remember anything?” he asked, and I patted the bed next to me. He was intimidating, not least of all because of the fucking horns sticking out of his head.

And were his eyes orange? I’d never seen that before. Or had I?

“I’m not sure.” Pictures flashed before me. Memories? An old man, a gun, a strangely dressed man, a casino chip. A woman whose face sent love flooding through me, emotions so strong I feared I’d break down and cry.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the image away. It was beautiful and painful all at once. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a white cotton dress and a smile so brilliant it outshone the sun.

“Austin.”

I opened them again. A lamp in the corner cast a soft glow on the room.

“I don’t know what’s going on. Why am I here? Have we had sex?”

“No, no. You passed out, and I brought you in here. It’s a long story.”

I took another sip of the water and placed the bottle on the nightstand. “I have time. A lifetime, maybe?”

He sat next to me on the bed, but not too close to make me uncomfortable, one leg bent. He blew out a breath.

“You remember nothing about the past few days?”

I shook my head. It was all a blur, broken images of people I thought I knew, places that seemed familiar.

He reached across me and plucked something from the table next to me.

“Do you know what this is?”

He gave me what looked like a casino chip, warm to the touch and ancient in appearance.

The image of the strangely dressed man popped up again. He’d handed this to me, telling me it was for protection.

“I don’t recall.”

This was fucking annoying, to say the least. Grandpa wouldn’t be happy if I’d stayed out for the night and not told him.

“Grandpa. I have to see him. He’ll be worried.” My heart raced.

“Thank fuck you remember something.”

“Where is he?”

“At home, being looked after.”

That was a relief, and as I sat there, small parts of my memory returned, yet I still couldn’t remember the man sitting next to me.

“Are those real?” I pointed at his off-white horns.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, they’re fucking real.”

“Why do you have horns?”

“We’ve been over this. Devil? Remember?”

Surely, I’d remember something like that.

I barked out a laugh. “You’re not the devil. There’s no such thing.”

He glared at me. “I can assure you I’m very real.”

I prodded him in his hard chest, and he rocked backwards. “You feel real to me.”

“Concentrate, Austin. I need to know what’s going on.”

“How the fuck should I know? I only know my name because you called it me.”

“Don’t you remember anything at all?”

I leant back against the pillows. How had I got here? Something to do with money. A casino.

Yes. A casino. Playing blackjack and roulette, tucking chips into my pockets. Lots and lots of chips.

Then stairs going down. A grey room with three chairs, then just two remaining.

What had happened to the other one?

A gunshot, a slumped body in a chair. I inhaled sharply. The face of my friend, now lifeless.

“You remember.”

“It was you. You did it. He did nothing to you, and you killed him.” I clenched my jaw, the anger I’d felt previously returning with a vengeance.

“We already went over this. I’m more concerned about what happened today.”

“When you touched the mark.” What the fuck did that matter?

All my memories flooded back, ending with me collapsing on the floor.

“You carried me here?”

“I couldn’t leave you lying there. But what do you know of the mark?”

“I always had it. Grandpa joked it was the kiss of the angels. It’s just something he said.”

“What do you know of your mother?”

“Why do you want to know? She died when I was six.” That was the woman I remembered, her laughing as we played in the garden, picking flowers, chasing bugs. Life had been beautiful then. She’d been beautiful, and then the unthinkable had happened, and she’d died.

Dad had refused to live after that until he’d eventually decided I wasn’t worth sticking around for and left.

Dante—yes, that was his name—Dante didn’t need to know all this. These were my secrets to keep.

But now I needed to go home to Grandpa. I’d left him alone long enough.

I threw the covers back and planted my feet on the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. Let me go.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, and when I explain why, you’ll understand. Anyway, it’s late. Do you think he’d like you knocking on the door at this unearthly hour?”

He’d be worried sick. I knew that. Hopefully, Amber had listened to me and, when I’d not turned up for work, would take care of him like I’d asked.

But by God, I was breaking out of here tomorrow and going home. Dante could go fuck himself.

But he was right about it being too late, so I crept back into the bed.

“Talk. Now.”

He blinked at me, those orange eyes glowing again. Was he really the devil? “Watch your tone. You seriously have no idea, do you?”

“Just tell me. Then we can get on with whatever it is you have planned for me, and I can go home.”

“This mark on your chest. It means something. Your grandpa wasn’t telling stories when he said you’d been kissed by the angels. This mark is known as being ‘angel blessed’.”

I frowned. This made no sense. Why would an angel be blessing me?

“It’s why I asked about your mother. What was her name?”

Tears threatened to fall as they did each time I thought of her. It was almost impossible to say her name, but I forced myself, as it seemed important to him.

“Calista. That was her name.” I’d always thought it was beautiful, that it suited her perfectly.

He nodded as if it meant something to him too.

“Do you know anything about her family? Her mother? Did she have any sisters?”

I knew nothing about her, now I thought about it. “No. I just remember her.”

“How did she die?”

Now that was personal and not for sharing with someone like him.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“It could be important.”

I didn’t care how vital it was. I wouldn’t tell him. The memory of that night was too painful to remember.

She’d gone to bed, saying she had a headache. I’d never known her to be ill, young as I was. Sure, Dad took to his bed when he had a cold, but she’d never once come down with anything.

But that night in November was a night I’d never forget.

I’d gone to her room and lain with her for a while until it was time for bed. She’d kissed me on my forehead and called me her gift from above and told me how much she loved me.

She’d looked tired, but then I’d thought it was because she was ill. A six-year-old shouldn’t remember things like this, but this memory was seared into my brain. I’d never forget.

Grandpa had ushered me out of the room, telling me she needed to rest, and all night, I’d tossed and turned, wanting to go to her. Worrying if she’d be okay.

The following morning, I’d rushed to her room, but the bed was empty, and that was it. She was gone. Dad had said she’d got worse, and they’d taken her to the hospital, where she’d died.

My life had changed from that day onwards.

Gone was the happy home, replaced with a house full of sorrow and grief. For twelve months, I tried to make Dad happy, but he said I reminded him too much of her. He sank into a life of alcohol and drugs, then disappeared into the dead of night, never to be seen again.

Now here I was, the horror of that night coming back to me like it was yesterday.

What right did Dante have to those memories? No, I’d tell him nothing of the woman who had been the light of my life. She was with the angels now. That was what Grandpa had always said, and that was where I’d told myself she was.

“Nothing I could tell you about her would help. Don’t ask me again.”

He balled his fists, set his jaw, but he hadn’t earned the right to know anything about her.

“Fuck, Austin. That could be important.”

“I don’t care, but carry on. I need to know what’s happening.”

He walked to the window overlooking the city.

“Angel blessed means you are protected. Without knowing more about your mother, I can’t tell you from what. All I know is that when I touched the mark, the protection was likely broken.”

“Protection from who?” I didn’t need protecting.

“From the likes of me. Demons will come from five hundred miles or more now you’re unprotected.”

What the fuck was he talking about? Demons? I called bullshit.

“There are no such things.”

“Austin, how can you say that after what’s happened these past few days? And you. You’re an anomaly yourself. No one has that much luck, yet it pours from you. I have a theory about that, but the details elude me right now. You think my horns are fake. Touch them, look into my eyes, and tell me none of it’s real.”

I stared at him, silhouetted by the pale morning light coming through the window.

No one I knew had horns, but the guys had said they were a gimmick to get people into the casino.

I climbed out of the bed and walked towards him. He’d told me to touch them, so I would, and find out once and for all.

I stood before him. The urge to drop to my knees and bow overwhelmed me, but I fought it. I lifted my hand.

He closed his eyes, his nostrils flared, and I stroked one of the white horns protruding from his head. He shivered, but it couldn’t be from the cold. The room was like a furnace.

I brushed my fingers over the other one, and he moaned. A sound so sexual it was worthy of a porn star.

Had they been this big before?

They grew, slowly changing colour from white to black, the tips blood red. That had happened the night before, and I pulled away quickly.

How could they be real?

“Now do you believe me?”

“I shouldn’t.” But the evidence was right there before me.

Tonight had been weird. Talk of angels and demons. It was surreal, like a scene from a movie, not my life.

My life was normal. Well, except for the extreme luck, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. Until I’d walked into this casino.

Since then, not one thing had been the same.

Joel had died. Not by my hand, thankfully. There’d been talk of wiping minds. That right there should have been a red flag.

Funny how I’d accepted these things without a real argument. I’d contested them, as outlandish as they might seem.

“You know I’m right,” Dante said, his voice hoarse. “You know the truth. It’s there inside you, and I think now the mark has been breached, you will understand. I have an obligation to protect you now.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

My insides churned, and my mind was a jumble, full of the things he’d told me. It was too much to take in, too much to assimilate. I needed time alone to let it all sink in.

Remembering why we’d come here in the first place, I walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. I closed and locked the door, ignoring the hammering from the other side.

“I need time to think,” I shouted above the racket. “Let me have five minutes alone.”

“Unlock the door, Austin.”

“I can’t do that. Please let me shower.” And pee. I desperately needed to pee.

The banging stopped, and my mind settled.

I stood under the spray and washed away the accumulation of sweat and dirt from the past few days. All the while, I was thinking about what Dante had said.

It was unbelievable, but what other explanation was there for the events I’d witnessed?

Add in what he’d told me about my birthmark. As much as I wanted that to be wrong, I knew deep down inside what he’d said was true.

I was angel blessed. I could feel it, and when I closed my eyes, my head immersed under the hot spray, she appeared to me.

My mother, Calista, came to me.

“Trust in yourself, my darling boy. Trust your feelings and trust him.”

She was gone as quickly as she’d materialised, and I was left with a feeling of loss all over again. The tears came then. Tears I’d never shed. I cried for her passing, I cried for Grandpa and worried I’d never see him again, but most of all, I cried for the life I’d lived without her by my side. Guiding me and taking care of me.

Had she not died, I’d not be here now, but regrets would get me nowhere.

Now was the time to take back control of my life. I just had to get out of here.