Tied With a Bow

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