Human Error

by Eileen Wilks

  She understood. If her editor had called and offered her a story like Watergate or the Afghan “kill squad,” how hard would it have been for her to walk away from it for a guy? To give up what she’d built? The thing that had defined her? She would have done it for Nathaniel, but a part of her would’ve died in the process. So how could she blame Nathaniel for reverting to archangel status instead of clinging to a life with her?

  Still, it hurt. A cut-to-the-bone kind of hurt.

  “Kate—”

  “No,” she said, holding out a hand to stop him. “No need to explain. I understand.”

  “Someone raised Gadreel. He’s loose in the world right now.”

  “Like I said, I get it,” she said in a rush. She stalked to the desk and dropped in the chair. She grabbed her iPhone from her purse and opened her e-mail. He rounded the desk and stood in front of her. When she didn’t look up, his hand gripped the phone. She held tight, trying to keep him from pulling it away.

  “Let go,” he said.

  Just leave me alone. Please.

  She pulled the phone, but it didn’t come free. With a small tug, Nathaniel took it from her grip.

  “Give it back,” she said, pushing the heel of her hand against his hip.

  He moved the phone out of reach and kept his palm over it, pinning the phone to the desk.

  She glared at his chest.

  “Kate.”

  “What? What do you want from me?”

  His voice was soft. Insistent. Devastating. “Kate.”

  She looked up, still glaring, despite the tears that burned her eyes. “I said I get it. You’re an archangel, and you’ve got work to do. Go ahead.”

  “I love you.”

  Her gurgled laugh was bitter. “But you hate him more. Sure. Of course. I would, too.” The tears scalded her cheeks. Nathaniel clenched his teeth, and tears shone in his own eyes.

  “I love you.”

  “I heard you the first time! Will you just shut up and leave?”

  He swallowed, strong throat muscles working. “Left alone, he would burn down the world. There are nuclear weapons now.”

  “Don’t get melodramatic. He would never destroy the world. Then there would be no people for him to torture. And we both know that’s what he likes.”

  “He tortures people to torture Heaven, but he’d like it even better if the world was no more.”

  “Why?”

  “God used to love mankind and all the angels. God still loves mankind. He still loves the angels of Heaven, but he does not love Gadreel. Jealousy, bitterness, and hatred are very bright emotions. If Gadreel were left to it, he would destroy your world. To take away what God cherishes, I promise you, that’s what Gadreel wants most.”

  “Well, we can’t have that. If he blows up the world, what would I write about?” she said, her voice hollow.

  Nathaniel rubbed his eyes. “I don’t hate him more than I love you, Kate.” He shook his head, continuing to cover his eyes. His voice, heavy with emotion, caught, making her own throat clench. “You’re what I cherish. My every happiness. That I can’t be with you . . . it’s a thousand knives slicing my heart. It’s wounds that will never heal.”

  The tears poured from her eyes, dropping like rain onto the blotter.

  “I know someone has to stop Gadreel, but does it have to be you?” she demanded, choking on her tears.

  He looked at her then. “When he’s flesh, only an angel of flesh can engage him. I’m the only one here.”

  “Huh.” She wiped her face, a useless effort as tears continued to spill over her lower lashes. “You guys need a better recruitment plan.”

  He swallowed. “I made you a promise,” he whispered. “I need you to release me from it.”

  Her brows rose, and she licked her lips. “You mean I could keep you if I wanted to? I could just say you made me a promise and that you have to honor it, and you’d have to stay?”

  He nodded.

  “You know,” she said, choking out a laugh. “I told them it wasn’t fair that they showed you to me if I couldn’t have you. It would serve them right if I just kept you for myself and said to hell with the world. Do you have any idea how freaking beautiful you are? You’re dawn’s early light that I chase every daybreak. Do you know that I’ve never loved anyone else? And that I probably never will? I’ve had one dream for the past decade, and it’s been you,” she whispered breathlessly. “Always . . . every night . . . you.”

  The sobs took her.

  Nathaniel reached over the desk and lifted her from the chair, cradling her against him. She felt him shaking, too.

  “It’s not fair. Not fucking fair,” she gasped.

  Moments stretched by, and she cried out her pain and frustration, the final tears struggling to reach her jaw. “I love you,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “And I release you from your promise.”

  He held her for an age. She wondered if he’d heard what she said, but she’d be damned before she repeated it. Damned.

  As if she’d thought the word loud enough for him to hear, Nathaniel’s grip loosened, then fell away. She took his hand and led him to the bathroom. She wet a cloth, wiped her face and handed it to him. He scrubbed it over his lids and cheeks. His lips were pale, she noticed, and his eyes bloodshot.

  “Okay,” she said softly as he dropped the cloth in the sink. “Kiss me good-bye, and I’ll see you in my dreams.” She closed her eyes and waited for a kiss that never came. When she opened her eyes, he’d gone.

  For a long time, she couldn’t think what to do. She filled the tub with water and turned on the jets, pouring in half a bottle of bath gel. Then she climbed in and sat numbly in suds to her shoulders until the world exploded.

  Chapter Eight

  Smoke, fire, and churning water. Alarms rang in the distance, but Kate’s ears felt full of water. Kate climbed from the tub, choking on smoke, and slipped. Something sliced her calf and she shrieked in pain, but her voice sounded muffled. She crawled through shards of broken glass, feeling her way toward the door. She needed to get to the stairs. Water sprayed from the walls where the sprinkler pipes had busted, but fire still burned. She felt the heat.

  As she pulled at the door, a hotel bathrobe fell onto her, and she slid her arms into it. Smoke clogged the air. She kept her eyes tightly closed as she moved. The door to the suite had to be nearby.

  Something slimy slithered across her cheek. She jerked back, but something caught her arm and yanked her up. She dangled blindly, thrashing her limbs, and felt the world tilt and herself being dragged upward.

  The smoke thinned, and then she breathed clean, frigid air.

  “So here you are, but where is he? He was supposed to be with you.”

  She struggled to open her eyes because her lashes were crusted with soot and dried soap and tears. When her vision was clear enough to see, Gadreel’s face came into focus. Stretched behind him were oily black bat wings. She stood facing him. They were on the roof.

  “Hey there,” she said, and then slammed her fist into his perfect nose. The crunch was satisfying. His arm was a blur as it struck her. She flew back, landing on the concrete, every bit of air knocked free of her lungs. She wheezed out a single word. “Asshole.”

  A moment later, he dragged her up by the front of her robe, the way a toddler would snatch up a fallen doll. She worked to get her feet under her, but her toes barely touched the ground.

  She watched the brackish blood stream from his nose over his lips.

  “What happened? Did he get tired of you already?” Gadreel asked.

  “There’s a divot in the bridge of your nose. I guess that means I broke it,” she said.

  “You did. It’ll take about thirty minutes to heal. When I break yours, though, about four weeks.”

  “Gadreel.”

  The demon spun, skinning her toes over the concrete. He whipped her in front of him and thrust the tip of a dagger against her throat. Familiar dread washed over her.

  Nathanie
l closed the distance between the three of them until Gadreel pricked her skin.

  “Close enough, or I’ll open a window from her windpipe to her spine.”

  Kate grimaced, but she clenched her teeth. “I’ve had this dream so many times before,” she said.

  Gadreel said, “Too bad for you, this time isn’t a dream.”

  “Too bad for you, too. The part coming up is where he kills you.”

  Gadreel levered his forearm across her throat, choking off her air.

  “Does this one belong to you, Nathaniel? Or can I have her?”

  Nathaniel’s eyes were deadly cold. “If you kill her, you have nothing with which to bargain.”

  The pressure on her throat eased. “There’s only one bargain that interests me. You give me back my ring, I go free, and you hunt me no more.”

  “You can have the ring and a day’s head start, but you’re damned, Gadreel. Whenever you’re on earth, an archangel will hunt you.”

  “Then Kate is very unlucky. If she’d never met you, I’m sure she would have lived a nice long life.” Gadreel ripped the robe down, exposing her chest. She tried to free herself, but Gadreel nicked her shoulder in warning.

  “Everything you do, I will visit back on you tenfold,” Nathaniel said.

  Gadreel laughed, and he bent his head and bit her shoulder hard enough to break the skin. She screamed, the pain like fire burning through her flesh.

  A dagger flew through the air and stabbed into Gadreel’s arm. Gadreel shouted and yanked it out, dropping it without ever giving her enough room to break free.

  “Nice throw, but see how you grimace, Nathaniel?” Gadreel licked Kate’s blood from his lips. “You don’t have a taste for torture. In two thousand years, each time we fight, it’s been a clean kill every time. And I rise again. And again. And again. I have an easy way into the world now. We’ll go on and on, you and I. But Kate will be gone. And you’ll have nothing to do all year but wait for me and visit her grave.”

  Nathaniel eyes didn’t meet hers.

  “Or I could let her go, and we could keep this just between us.”

  “I’m listening,” Nathaniel said.

  “Her life for your pain.”

  “Go on,” Nathaniel said.

  “You submit to me for twenty-four hours. I can do anything I want, short of taking your wings. After, they’ll take your soul out of your broken body and put it in a new one. When you get back, the battle resumes. No matter if you kill me later, Kate is free to live her life. No demon will ever touch her or even try to entice a human to kill her. Hell will forget she exists.”

  The memories of Nathaniel being tortured flooded her mind. If Gadreel killed her now, her own death would be quick. The thought of Gadreel being able to do anything he wanted to Nathaniel curdled her stomach.

  “No,” Kate said.

  “Quiet,” Gadreel sneered, twisting her finger.

  She screamed, then fought past the pain. “Nathaniel, no. If he kills me, the angels will come for me. It’s nice in Heaven, isn’t it?” she asked, trembling all over.

  “Are you going to let her sacrifice her life for you?” Gadreel crooned. “I got to kill both of your sisters. Your brother. Your mother and father. Are you going to let me cut short the life of your girlfriend, too? I must admit it would be nice to have the whole set. I eventually hope to add you to it. What do you say? Her life for your pain? Or shall I slit her throat?”

  “Let her go.”

  “No!” she screamed.

  “Your promise that you’ll submit for one day?”

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said.

  Her head spun, and she fought to free herself, to pummel Gadreel. The demon pushed her away without a glance.

  Gadreel laughed at Nathaniel. “Beautiful angel boy, I promise to make you regret your choice. Let’s go.”

  “I can’t fly. My wings aren’t ready,” Nathaniel said.

  Gadreel grinned. “Well then, we’ll start the fun here until the firefighters make their way up and interrupt us. I want you naked and on your knees.” Gadreel’s eyes shone blood red in the moonlight. He was in the throes of dark pleasure.

  Nathaniel discarded his shirt and unzipped his pants.

  Rage and fury and frustration wailed through her.

  This will not happen! I won’t let that monster touch him! Not for my sake. Not for anything or anyone. Never. Never. Never!

  With a hand massaging his crotch, Gadreel strode toward Nathaniel.

  Kate snatched up Nathaniel’s dagger that lay at her feet. She felt as though she’d left her body and watched from above as she rushed forward and drove the dagger into Gadreel’s wing, slicing down like it was fabric and then plunging the dagger into his back with a banshee cry. She gouged him and wrenched the blade sideways, coring a huge chunk of flesh as she dragged it out and then stabbed him again.

  He wailed and spun, striking her so she flew backward. Her back slammed into the concrete, knocking her breath and the dagger free as Gadreel leaped forward, his own blade raised. He would kill her. She didn’t care. She would’ve died a thousand times for the chance to stab him again.

  Gadreel’s blade arced down, but Nathaniel jerked him back. She watched, frozen, as Nathaniel tore Gadreel’s injured wing from his back.

  Gadreel’s screams pierced the night. Nathaniel pinned the flailing Gadreel to the ground and sliced open his back, ripping out the other wing.

  The wings burst into flame and burned to ash. Then Nathaniel cut Gadreel’s throat and climbed off him. The pale body, smudged with black blood, was consumed by blue flames. The smell of sulfur filled the air and then there was nothing but ash.

  For several moments, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

  Nathaniel bent over her. “Are you all right, Kate? Are you badly hurt?”

  “No,” she stammered, then looked to the black ash that had been Gadreel. “But you . . . you promised to submit,” she said through chattering teeth.

  “I did promise,” Nathaniel said, pulling on his pants and zipping them.

  “And then you killed him.”

  “Yes, I did,” Nathaniel said with a smile. “Not only that. I managed to take his wings first. Whenever he enters the world again, no wings.”

  “He’ll never regrow them?”

  “Never.”

  “But you broke your promise.”

  “No. I traded my submission for your life. He said no demon would touch you. Then he struck you, so our agreement was void.”

  “And what if he hadn’t touched me?” she asked.

  “Then you would’ve hacked him apart piece by piece while I enjoyed the show.”

  “What if he’d tossed your knife off the roof?”

  “You would’ve cut him with something else.”

  She looked around, gaze stopping at the pool bar. “I would’ve used a broken bottle.” Eyes darting, she spotted several other possible weapons. A poker for the fire pit, a mirror she could’ve shattered.

  “He should’ve expected me to attack,” she said. “The very first thing I did when I met him was break his nose.”

  “He’s never been afraid of human beings, and he was too blinded by his greed to think clearly.”

  “His greed?”

  “For power over me. To have me at his mercy again. When we fight, I always win. He really wanted to make me pay for that with my blood.”

  “I was very afraid that he was going to get his wish.” She shivered. She was cold but wildly exhilarated, too. “Helping you kill him was so . . . satisfying.”

  “Yes, ridding the world of Gadreel always is. Until he returns,” he said, sliding his dagger away and walking toward the stairs.

  She followed. “How does he keep coming back?”

  “Someone must have an ancient grimoire that they use to raise him.” Nathaniel held the door and said, “Probably the brother and sister ventala,” at the same time Kate said, “Cato and Tamberi Jacobi.” They smiled at each other
.

  “So you’ll deal with that?”

  “I will.”

  “And maybe Gadreel will stay gone for a very long time?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “But maybe not. And there may be others,” she said slowly, her mood crashing. “And you’re still the only flesh-and-blood archangel here to fight them?”

  “Yes.”

  Vanquishing Gadreel didn’t change anything. We still can’t be together. A world of pain swallowed her.

  “For now,” he added gently.

  There were emergency lights flashing in the stairwell. The fires were all out, but the water and smoke had badly damaged several floors. It was a long descent, her heart growing heavier with each passing step.

  Please, God, don’t let me break down again. It’ll hurt him to see it.

  They descended the dark stairwell. Down and down and down. She fought the tears that threatened, biting hard on her lip until she tasted blood.

  Please, let me be strong enough. He’s been through a lot. Help me pretend that I’m okay.

  When they reached the ground floor, her throat was so tight, she couldn’t swallow the pain. Her feet moved numbly as he led her across the street to the Clarity, her resolve draining away as the moment of letting go got closer.

  I know I can’t have him for good, Lord, but would one night be too much to ask for?

  Please, just let me keep him for a few hours more.

  “Do you need a place to stay for the night? I have a room with an extra bed. We could just talk—just be together for a little while.”

  “The temptation of that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not strong enough.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and he clenched his fists helplessly.

  “Kate, please don’t cry,” he whispered.

  “Sorry!” She jerked her head to the side as the drops spilled over her lashes. “Good-bye for now,” she choked out, then rushed into the lobby before the sobs took her.