Early June sunlight was streaming in through my window when my eyelids finally opened from a deep and restful slumber. The feelings of peacefulness and contentment were unexpected, especially considering the events of the past couple of days, but it was welcomed nonetheless. 

I liked my bedroom. Liked it a lot. My large, queen-size bed dominated the room and was decorated with grey, silk covers that, accompanied with the soft mattress and the four, plump pillows, made getting up for the day even harder than it already was. The spotless, navy marble floor reflected the light that shone from my big window like diamonds in the summer, opening to a spacious balcony that gracefully floated above the peasants below. 

My phone on the nightstand told me it was eleven o'clock on a Monday morning, usually the time of day that the common man was feeling a work-day depression. But not me. For once, I actually appreciated that I was in fact lucky to have all of this power, all of this time, at my disposal. Yes, I couldn't have what I really wanted, but this was the next best thing, right? 

Regardless, I knew there was one thirst of mine I could quench, one desire of mine I could allow myself to have, and it was all obtainable with one phone call. 

I couldn't wait any longer. I needed her. I needed Carmen. I hadn't been able to get her out of my head for days, and thoughts of her weren't going away anytime soon. I wasn't a man of patience, I felt like I was above the virtue: I wasn't a child of God. 

My muscular, heavy arm outstretched towards the phone with a lazy hastiness that had the device in my hands in milliseconds, fumbling to unlock the damn thing as quickly as possible. I went onto contacts and scrolled down until I found her name, pressing call and praying to God (ironically) that she wasn't busy. I waited and waited, two beeps went by and then...

"Hello," her voice was sweet and nervous, the sound of an angel stirring every cell in my body towards it like a super magnet. Damn she was dangerous for a man like me: I knew I'd give her anything she asked me for.

"Hey," my voice by contrast was deep and husky, the morning having a lingering effect. "Remember me?" 

She paused for a second, and I heard her breathing increase suddenly like a gust of autumn wind. "H...hey, Roman." 

I let out a chuckle, the sound reverberating deep in my chest. "I'm calling you because I want to take you out for a date."

"Oh...sure," she sounded surprised, if a little bemused, at the directness of my words. I knew if we were in person she would've pointed out how demanding I was, which I admired in a woman: liars were a waste of my time. 

"Are you free at Wednesday lunch time?" I asked, metaphorically crossing my fingers. 

"Yes." 

A big smile broke across my face, and I didn't have it in me to turn my expression back to neutral. "I'll pick you up at twelve by the cafe where we met before?"  

"Okay. Umm...where are we going?" 

"You'll see," I grinned even wider. I was going to take her to Santa Monica Beach where I knew a really good, pretty expensive restaurant. It was part of a hotel that was also a cocktail bar and the views of the seaside were quite spectacular, making it one of my favourite places to dine at.

"Oh," she sounded surprised again, before letting out a nervous laugh. "What should I wear?" 

"A dress," I was going to wear a suit: I wanted to impress her on this date and I wasn't planning on disappointing her in any way possible. 

"What kind of dress?" 

"Surprise me." 

She groaned in exasperation. "You're so unhelpful!" 

I chuckled again. "You'll be able to pick something."

She sighed and I could imagine her rolling her eyes at me this very moment, which made me smile once more. 

"Anyway, I'll see you then. I've got to go. Take care of yourself," I ordered, really not wanting to hang up but needing to. 

"Yes sir," she mocked slightly, making me laugh. "See you on Wednesday." 

"Wednesday," I agreed, cutting the call, the anticipation in the air too much to hold onto. I needed to get her out of my mind otherwise I wouldn't be able to wait till Wednesday. I simply wanted to see her too much. 

With a humongous effort, I pulled myself out of my trapping bed and threw on a discarded t-shirt that had previously been sitting on a nearby chair. I manoeuvred myself towards the bathroom before I headed to the kitchen; my posture slouched, as I went to get breakfast. 

My eyes were caught by the empty whiskey bottles on the side from last night, and I quickly averted my gaze, the sight making me feel slightly sick. I drank way too much: bloody hell I was in such a state, slamming things and cursing Satan's name to the ends of the Earth.

The morning after Satan's incompetence and insulting words, I had been feeling pretty smug and was even laughing at my demonic half's anger. It was nice for me when the shoe was put on the other foot, and now he was feeling the righteous anger I felt after all that Satan had taken away from me. The only reason why my demonic half put up with him was because of respect, but that in itself was diminishing after the events of two nights ago. 

And yes I had been laughing, but now I wasn't. I felt sympathetic and emphasised with his feeling of betrayal, because Satan had made him feel like he wasn't enough to be who he was, and that was what Satan did. I hated him simply because he was pure evil. He didn't bother to motivate or be kind to even his allies, which my demonic half did not care about, because kindness wasn't a demonic value, but it was certainly one of mine. He was an ungrateful bastard and I was glad that God was making him suffer by keeping him trapped in Mount Lucifer. I would rue the day, like the rest of the human race, when he would be released and got what he didn't deserve. 

As I opened one of my kitchen cupboards to get my morning cereal, my phone vibrated in my bedroom. I bounded up to it, a part of me hoping for an unexpected text from Carmen, but no...It was Dev, saying that he needed to talk to me tonight. 

I sighed and replied okay. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to bother with this whole Darcy Robbins thing for another week or two, but obviously I wasn't that lucky. It seemed like the situation couldn't give me a moment's peace.

And on top of that, I didn't want to do anything for that false king again, and my demonic half was in agreement to some extent there. 

But that was my job. And there was no way out of it. I would be half demon for eternity, and no one would be able to change that. 

It was too late: I was past redemption. And past hoping for that matter as well.