Interlude
It would have been easier if he hadn’t loved her. Then, he could have simply been angry and nothing else. Now, though, all his anger was bound up with his feelings for her, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do about that.
Didn’t she understand that there was no way in Hell — pardon the pun — that he could ever tell her the truth about himself? About what he was, where he’d come from? He was supposed to be living a simple mortal life, and confessing to the woman who’d somehow managed to insinuate her way into his heart that he was a former demon with no family, no origins, no past other than countless millennia spent toiling in the underworld, was simply not in the equation.
And it was even more awkward that she had to be living right across the street from him. Avoidi
