There But For The Grace (29 page)

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Authors: A. J. Downey,Jeffrey Cook

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Manuscript Template

BOOK: There But For The Grace
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Michael stood over us, looking down his nose, and I leapt to my feet and cranked back to clock him. Shouting, arms around my middle, and I was yanked back, and we were in a hallway outside a wooden door shut firmly in our faces.

“Let me go! You fucking son of a bitch! Let me hit him! I’ve earned it!” I jerked out of Uriel’s grasp and rounded. Gabriel was at least on my side, arms crossed and glowering at Michael, who matched the other Archangel’s stance.

“Hey, Mikey, I have a message for you, being the messenger and all,” Gabriel said, then sniffed and spit on the floor. Michael only arched one golden eyebrow to acknowledge that he was listening, Gabriel glanced at me, before flicking his blue eyes back to Michael.

“You’s a dick.”

Michael scowled, and I jerked the rest of the way out of Uriel’s grasp.

“What is your fucking
deal
anyways?”

“He was hoping that the horses would come through the gate, carrying Tab with the keys, and that you and Iaoel would be trapped,” Uriel said, and he didn’t sound at all happy about it.

“Oh you motherfucker!” I cried, and Uriel didn’t even stop me this time, I strode right up to Michael and slapped him in the face. His head snapped to the side, and Gabriel and Uriel just stood aside and let it happen. Michael turned back to them scowling before he went to reach for me, but he’d made a mistake, he’d looked to his brother’s before he looked to me and in the time it’d taken him to do that, I had one of War’s forty-five’s pointed right in Michael’s face.

He stared down the barrel and sneered. My chest heaving, I started to squeeze down on the trigger. I wanted to, I wanted to so bad. I wanted to pull that trigger and paint the wall behind Michael’s head with his smug, smiling, golden face. I shook, trembling like a leaf and tried valiantly to remember what that would mean for humanity. As much of a fucking dick-cheese as he was, Michael was supposed to be one of the good guys. I just really wished his arrogant ass would start acting like it.

“He’d better be fucking alive, because I swear if he isn’t, and us getting out of there sooner could have stopped it, I’m making it my new mission to fucking end you. I don’t care how fucking badass you think you are,” I seethed.

I knew I probably sounded ridiculous. I knew I was probably
being
ridiculous, but no matter how stupid I sounded or looked, it didn’t change the fact that I was absolutely fucking serious about what I was saying. Michael knew it and saw it, too. His crystal-clear blue eyes widened, and a flush creeped up his neck. He was pissed, and I gave zero fucks about it.

A black hand reached out and gently came over the top of my gun, long, elegant fingers wrapping ‘round, firmly pressing down until I either pulled the trigger and hurt that hand or lowered the weapon. I chose to lower the weapon because, quite frankly, I respected Azrael—liked him even—and he had gone out of his way to help me in so many ways when Michael didn’t. Azrael stepped between me and Michael, and it wasn’t lost on me the pointed look that Azrael gave the lead Archangel, the one that clearly dictated that he cool his jets.

Still, even though he looked at Michael with a look that just about any parent or teacher gave a misbehaving child, the words that came out of Death’s mouth were for me, and just a touch gentler in their chiding.

“Adelaide, it’s all right. I think the effects of the Fifth may have rubbed off on you a bit. Take a moment to
think
.”

I looked Azrael in the eye and found sympathy there, or was it empathy? I couldn’t be sure. I shook and sniffed and felt my eyes well. I didn’t know what to do with these horrible feelings that were suddenly taking center stage. Hopelessness, helplessness, fear, and even maybe regret was in there too; it didn’t matter and was all the same right now. I choked off my tears, refusing to let them fall until I knew…

“Did you take him?” I demanded, putting up the gun. Azrael smiled a little sadly, and it was like he found some sort of understanding with my question. Gabriel looked much the same out of the corner of my eye while Michael stayed angry and Uriel looked like he couldn’t quite place what exactly was going on.

“No, Adelaide, I didn’t. Raphael is tending to him now. I felt called out here, if only to stop either of you from committing irreversible stupidity to one another.” He gave Michael another pointed look, then turned one onto me that clearly said we needed to remember we were supposed to be on the same team. Michael scowled but bowed his head, and again Azrael turned the gentle and sympathetic look on me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was about or what was wrong with me. I mean,
did I seriously just try to take Michael the Archangel on, one on one?

I looked over at Gabriel, and his look was just as gently sympathetic as Azrael’s. He sighed out gently and said, “Easy, Addy. You’re okay now. You did it. You got him out. You’re safe, and Tab’s safe too.”

“I know that. Why are you telling me that? I know what I did. I know where we are!” My voice was loud and strained.

Uriel cleared his throat and looked at me, the same sympathetic look painted on his face, and I was beginning to hate it—that look, like I was crazy or broken or something. Uriel drew a soft breath, and the way he dragged it into his lungs made it sound as if he carried the weight of the world, or as if someone
had
died, “You’re shaking, by like a lot,” he said, and I looked down at my hands. I
was
indeed, as he’d said, shaking. My whole body trembled almost as if I had palsy or something. I closed my eyes briefly, then looked back at Azrael.

“I promise,” he soothed. “It is not his time yet. Raphael is very good at what he does. Have a little faith, Addy-girl,” he smiled at me, and at the old nickname my boss used to call me, it’s like something inside me broke and relief finally came flooding in. I dropped to the floor, hard onto my ass, blinded by tears and leaned forward, a soundless scream coming from my mouth. I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t need to just yet, at least not really.

Gabriel was suddenly there. He gathered me up, one of his hands winding into the back of my hair. He pressed my head into his shoulder and made a soothing noise by my ear, but it was drowned out, because I had found breath and couldn’t hear anything anymore except my own loud wracking sobs.

“It’s all good, Baby. You did it; you did well; you’re just crashing from all the adrenaline. Sh, sh, sh… I got you,” he kept repeating the last when all I could think was how much I wanted to see Tab. How much I needed to touch him and find him warm and alive, to know for myself that I’d really done it and that he was going to be okay… except I knew, I knew what a lie that was, because I’d been down there too, and I knew that he’d been down there twice as long and in places where the horrors…

“Oh God, Gabriel!” I cried, and I swear, after all of it was said and done, after everything I’d been through, I just shattered all over that hallway floor, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t keep it from happening. I just didn’t have the strength anymore.

The door opened, and I looked up, stricken, into Raphael’s face, which was as stern as I had ever seen it.

“Azrael, I need your aid,” he said, and I could hear why. Tab was screaming, wordless and angry, from inside the room. I struggled against Gabriel’s hold, but he held me fast and was so much stronger.


Adelaide!”
Tab screamed, and Azrael slipped past Raphael hastily.

“You,” Raphael pointed in Michael’s face. “Go somewhere else. And you, Brothers, quiet her down. It’s not helping me having to fight him from coming to her. They both need to
calm down
.” I stared up at Raphael, open-mouthed, stricken, and tried to protest, tried to convince him to please let me see Tab, that I could and would calm him down, but he disappeared into the room and shut the door behind him, locking me out into the hall…

Oh God, what have I done? Have I just made things worse?

I shoved my fist into my mouth and tried valiantly to cry quieter, when all I wanted to do was scream. Gabriel held me close and continued to make soothing sounds while Uriel almost stood watch over the both of us. I couldn’t hold myself together any tighter, and eventually it was as if the pressure became too much and all I could do was weep brokenly over what a monumental fuck-up I was. I couldn’t help but think, like a whisper in the back of my mind, that Iaoel didn’t help the feelings of worthlessness along. Making me feel worse than I already did about everything.

I lay like a puddle of Adelaide in Gabriel’s lap and sobbed like a little fucking girl for who knows how long. I’d done it. I’d gotten Tab out of Hell, had stood up to
the
Archangel of Archangels, had gone up against and beaten every odd that was stacked up against me… and now that I was done, all I wanted to do was drown in how guilty I felt over the things I had done to achieve it.

Evil or not, I had killed people and beings… I had hurt them… even if they were evil, even if it was hell,
what kind of monster did that make
me
?

 

***

 

“When do you think Raphael will let me see him?” I asked dully, as I passed the bottle back to Gabriel. It was only wine, but with the constant need to keep Iaoel in check, I didn’t think anything harder was a good idea. Gabriel took a drink from it and passed it back to me. I’d only had one or two pulls off of it, definitely not enough to take the edge off. At any rate, I honestly think it was more Gabriel sitting here with me, sprawled out on the opposite side of the door after my epic meltdown, that was doing more to hold the fragile pieces of me together than the contents of the bottle in my hand.

When I’d come out of my crying jag and humiliating meltdown, Uriel and Michael were both long gone, and it was just me and Gabriel left in the hall. He’d stayed with me, even though he didn’t have to. He only vanished for a minute or two, reappearing with a damp cloth to wipe my face with—and the bottle of wine. I took another drink from it and passed it back to him across the front of the door that remained stubbornly shut in my face while Raphael worked his healing voodoo on Tab inside. Gabriel leaned his head back against the stone wall and took another drink, enough to cause his cheeks to puff out as he swallowed. He brought the bottle down and rolled his head along the wall so he could look at me.

“Dunno, did you give it to him?

“What?”

He let out an exasperated sound and looked at me pointedly. I startled and blushed.

“Oh! No: there wasn’t time, and honestly, I didn’t think about it.”

“Jesus Christ, girl. What’s it going to take for you two? Seriously, I’m trying to help my homeboy out a little.” He eyed me speculatively, “Come to think of it, I’m trying to help you out too.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What, does that make me your homegirl?”

Gabriel snorted a laugh and then looked at me, nodding to himself a little. “Yeah, after the badass schtick you pulled out down there, I think I’ll give your application as official homegirl some more serious consideration.”

I snorted and laughed, my skin still tight from my tears, and lifted the bottle he handed me in salute. “I’ll drink to that.” I took a drink and passed it back to him. The crisp, sweet wine went down smooth. It wasn’t my usual thing when I got to drinking, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, I’d already turned down the whiskey which was more my speed. I really hated Iaoel more than usual in that instant. All I wanted to do was get obliterated, and I couldn’t, not without wondering what kind of shit she’d pull if I did.

Not going to lie: it worried me. Iaoel had been silent. She didn’t once try to put her two cents in, for which I was equal parts grateful for and suspicious. I sniffed and sighed out, getting teary again.

“Hey, we’ve already done that once tonight. You’re hot, chick, but I didn’t sign up for the crying and the screaming so much. It doesn’t look good on you.” The grim expression on Gabriel’s face belied any sting or hurt in his words. All I really saw in his face was a genuine concern and an almost haunted expression, full of regret. I think he saw that I saw it because his next words were spoken in such a way that there was no mistaking them for probably the most sincere thing I had ever heard him say to me.

“You know, Tab never wanted anything like this for you. I admit, in the beginning, I was pretty indifferent, didn’t really care one way or the other for the plight of one hapless mortal. You know? Shit happens, too bad, so sad, what
ever
.” He waved his hand back and forth to illustrate his point, and I nodded. His next words caught me a little off-guard. “I care now. Don’t know how you did it, cupcake, but you got under my skin, made me care. I don’t have a whole fuck of a lot of people I consider friends. Tab, maybe a few others, but you’ve made it. I consider you on that list too.”

I dashed at some errant tears trying to sneak free and nodded, more than a little choked up. Gabriel reached out across the door and captured the fingers of my closer hand in his.

“I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, either,” he said.

“I’m okay,” I tried, but he shook his head.

“You’re not, and I’m here to tell you: it’s okay that you’re not. Tab really did want you to go back to your life before things got so out of hand. I didn’t care one way or the other, but I do now. You’ve done more for my friend than any other mortal I’ve ever seen.” He swallowed hard, and for a second, I wondered if he were choking up. “Thank you,” he finished, and I opened my mouth to speak but had no words.

The door opening, swinging inward on well-oiled hinges with a quiet shush, saved me from having to say anything. I looked up at Raphael who looked down at me, a little bewildered by our presence on the floor. He smiled tiredly but that smile said it all. At least I wanted to think it did. I tried to force down my rapidly rising hopes so I didn’t crash so hard if they had no right to be getting up there. I clambered to my feet; Gabriel, who’d traded out his armor for jeans and a tee-shirt, did likewise.

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