He shook her. "How did you free me?"
"From Hell?" Had she sprung a demon from Hell? This was not good. Not good at all. She highly doubted her Oops Spell would do anything for that. But then, she had thought demons' eyes were red. That's what she had read in her studies of the species. What the hell had black eyes? He let her go, his head falling back against the wall again. She pushed herself away from him, unable to bear the heat. Sweat beaded on his forehead, poured down the sides of his face and chest. "Hell…I wish. The Abyss. That is where I was." His obsidian gaze met hers. "I will not allow you to send me back."
Brianna sat back, shocked. The Abyss was in Heaven. She'd read about the Abyss in one of the missing books of the bible, in the scroll known as the Book of Enoch. The Abyss was a place rumored to contain the worst of the fallen angels, set aside for those angels who had been reprimanded for terrible crimes, sentenced to eternal torture and damnation.
So he was a demon.
He started shaking as his body once again grew tense. She put her fingertips against his chest. He was still burning hot.
No matter what he was or where he came from, it was her responsibility to help him. She couldn't stand to see anyone hurting, and if she could help she would.
She drew her hand away. "I'll run a shower. You need to cool down."
She pushed herself up, trying to shut out his pain as she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She made the water hot, figuring he could turn it down as his body temperature cooled down. She couldn't put him in a cold shower in his current condition. It might send him into shock.
She tested the temperature once more, snatching her hand back from the scorching water. This wasn't exactly the way she had envisioned her evening. A little late-night reading, a snack—but cooling down a demon? Not so much. She stood and turned to get him.
She bumped into him, not realizing he had been behind her.
He leaned heavily against her sink, intense and quiet. He was solid muscle, and even hunched over she could tell he was well over six feet tall. His presence in her small bathroom prevented her from getting out. She fought down her panic when he collapsed against the sink, reminding her that he wasn't in a state to cause her harm.
Would he hurt her once she helped him?
Again, his obvious pain pushed thoughts of fear away. He was literally steaming her mirror.
"Here, let me help you." She tried putting her hand under his elbow to help him but had to draw away again. His skin was practically sizzling.
He shuffled to the shower, holding onto the walls. He pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped into the tub. When he got under the showerhead he sucked in his breath.
"Crap, is it too hot? I can cool it down." She bent to turn the faucet.
"Cold. It's cold," he whispered.
She withdrew her hand and watched as he shivered under the flowing water.
The water was blistering hot. Steam began filling the bathroom as the water rolled off him, bubbling as if it was past the boiling point.
If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have never believed it. How could someone survive this?
Because he's not human, a terrified voice reminded her. He's a demon!
Demon or not, she felt awful for him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored. There wasn't a whole lot more she could do for him. Taking him to the hospital was out of the question.
For the second time in the last few minutes she couldn't help but notice how perfect he was. Well, other than the fact he was a virtual furnace.
She let her gaze wander down the length of his golden, drenched body.
Hot damn and damned hot. Literally. If she'd known demons had bodies like this she might have called one up sooner. Talk about an instant pick me up. The steam emanating from his skin could be overlooked with a body such as his.
Her gaze slid down a little farther.
Whoa. That thing should come with an instruction manual.
"Colder."
Her head snapped up to meet his liquid-black eyes.
"I'm sorry?"
"Make it colder."
"Oh. Colder, yeah. Sorry." Jeez, she'd been caught staring at his wanker. Hopefully he was too feverish to realize she'd been peeping.
She turned the knob upward. The water would be lukewarm now. At least her idea was working and his body was cooling down.
She stepped back, keeping her gaze averted this time. Here he was in agonizing pain and she had been checking out his package.
"You speak English. What country is this?"
She glanced at him, trying to place his unique accent. Or was it a lack of accent entirely? God, she was losing her mind. "The United States of America."