Nathaniel stood with a palm over his left collarbone, pressing the scar. Pleasure and flirtation had fled his features. Now he only looked furious.
“You remember,” she whispered.
Staring into the flames, he said grimly, “I remember.”
“We would’ve put some holes in him, so he’d be weakened for your fight, but things didn’t go as planned,” Tamberi said, scowling.
Gadreel bit the knuckles on her left hand in a makeshift punishment, but he was grinning and gleeful. “Beri, the angel took the girl to a hotel room. This is monumental. You don’t know how single-minded these pricks can be when a demon rises. Especially him when the demon is me.” Gadreel jabbed a wire into the block of C-4 explosive. “I knew this crush would be his downfall. He’s part human and all that watching the girl and denying himself a taste? All that pining? It’s how I always play people. Show them something, make them want it, and then deny them. They will sell you their soul to get it.”
Gadreel took a puff off his hand-rolled cigarette and blew a smoke ring. “Now he’s totally lost his focus. He should have just f**ked her and gotten it over with. Instead, he’s the one who’s f**ked.” He took another deep drag, then bent to snort a line of cocaine.
“I can get you a rock. You know that smoking crack is a more intense high, right?” Tamberi asked.
Gadreel’s withering look turned her blood to ice. She clenched her jaw.
“Sorry. Of course, you know. You invented the more intense high.”
“True that. With coke, I like it old school. Recalling the eighties. No one thinks demons are sentimental, but we miss certain things. Like when people thought greed was good. Now yoga’s spread over the entire f**king planet and half the best-seller list is for people seeking enlightenment. Again with that crap? It is f**king tiresome. Here, hang this bomb from that light. And play me Devil’s Haircut again,” he said, before lapsing into song.
“You’ve got a great voice,” Tamberi said, stepping onto a chair so she could hook the bomb to the light fixture.
“Yeah, when we were cast out, they didn’t take it all. In the heat of the battle, we got away with murder and so much more.” Sucking on his cigarette, he grinned, and added, “Good times.”
Kate watched as Nathaniel flipped the ring out of the fire using a poker. It landed on the marble, soot-covered but not melted. He set the poker in its stand, waiting a moment for the ring to cool before retrieving it and sliding it onto his finger. He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought and frowning.
“So the warrior wins out,” she murmured, trying to keep her voice even. A part of her had known this would come. She’d seen those memories. A history like that would not stay buried. Still, she felt cold and empty. She’d promised to marry him and had for a while felt the promise of that future . . . to be in love, to be loved. She bit the inside of her cheek.
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.”