No Quarter

by L. J. LaBarthe

  Being part of an all-powerful, almost omniscient Brotherhood could, at times, be a trifle annoying, especially when they could hear each others’ thoughts quite clearly. Gabriel dismissed that with a quick shake of his head, raking his hands through his hair, and, inspiration failing him, settled on mundane topics of conversation in the hope of keeping Michael close.

  “Where are you based these days?” Gabriel asked.

  “Oregon.” Michael pulled a business card from the inner pocket of his coat and handed it to Gabriel. “The address is there.”

  Gabriel looked at the card, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity. “Venatores Inc.” He looked at Michael then at the card again. “What’s this about, then?”

  “I will tell you tomorrow.” Michael shot a quick look at the others standing not far away, talking animatedly. “I have been working on this for the last three hundred years. I will give Raziel a summary to include in the records he keeps, but I am not comfortable discussing it at such a formal meeting.”

  “Does God know?” Gabriel asked.

  “Yes. I hope I have not disappointed Him too much.” Michael bit his lip, looking down at the floor. “Apologies. I do not mean to speak of my shortcomings.”

  “Michael,” Gabriel began, but he was cut off by Raziel calling the meeting back to order. Tucking the card into the pocket of his jeans, he returned to his seat.

  Gabriel was not at all surprised when Michael left as soon as possible. Once the formalities were out of the way, Michael gave a shallow bow, handed Raziel a thick envelope, and vanished with the soft rustle of feathers that was the trademark sound of the arrival or departure of an angel. Raziel opened the envelope, reading the contents carefully, his expression impassive, and without a word, replaced the sheaf of papers into the envelope and attached it to the records book with a brief brush of his power.

  Gabriel watched Michael go, making sure to keep his expression neutral. He felt a pang in his Grace as Michael left and a yearning to follow him, to find some excuse to spend more time with him. He wanted to make up for lost time and be with Michael now, talk to him without fighting or arguing. Gabriel was not entirely sure that Michael would be as attracted to him as he was to Michael, but Gabriel, never shy or one to err on the side of caution, decided that he would do what he could to find out if Michael would be open to something more than friendship… perhaps something like a relationship.

  Mentally, Gabriel shook himself and forced himself to pay attention to the rest of the Brotherhood.

  “So,” Raziel said, looking up as he closed his book, “how are things with everyone outside of duty?”

  Conversation became more relaxed with that question, Gabriel listening intently as the Archangels talked about the things they’d seen, humans they’d met, their loves, lives, joys, sorrows, and losses. He laughed with them and felt once again that shared comradeship and companionship that came with being part of a small, tightly knit group of beings, bound together by love, power, Grace, and shared experience.

  Finally, Tzadkiel turned to Gabriel, idly tearing the paper label off a bottle of beer. “What about you, Gabe? What have you been up to?”

  “Apart from work?” Gabriel grinned as he lit a cigarette. “Took in two orphans some years back. Mira and John. They’re good kids.”

  “How old are they?” Haniel, Archangel of Love, asked.

  “Mira’s nearly twenty-five now. She’s a spirited lass.” Gabriel chuckled fondly. “John’s twenty-one. He’s a quiet lad. Very shy.”

  “You and Michael and your strays,” Raphael teased.

  “Please, Healer. Like you wouldn’t adopt an orphan who needed you?” Metatron asked.

  “No way, bro.” Raphael shook his head. “I’ve got too much to do without that as well. No, I’ll leave that to the sappy and warlike ones of us.”

  “They are fine people,” Samael said. “Gabriel has every reason to be proud of them. He has raised them well. They call me Uncle Sammy,” he added, a broad grin on his handsome face.

  There was a chorus of fond “awws” at that. Everyone knew that Samael found it difficult to connect with others, even those of their own kind. Being the Archangel of Death meant that he was often feared and that fear led to his being avoided. All the Archangels tried to soften things for their quiet, sensitive companion, but they were not always successful.

  “They like you,” Gabriel said. “John wants to take you horseback riding when you’re free.”

  “I would be honored,” Samael said sincerely.

  “Why don’t you drop in tomorrow?” Gabriel smiled at Samael. “I’ll be out all day, and I know your company would be welcome to ’em.”

  Samael’s smile broadened. “Then I shall be happy to. Thank you, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel nodded, taking a drink from his beer. “Anytime, Sammy. You’re always welcome, you know that.”

  “Do we get to meet them?” Metatron asked.

  “Aye, if you want. I’d be honored to introduce you all.” Gabriel grinned. “Let me know when you want to meet ’em, and we’ll sort something out.”

  There was a chorus of nods, and the conversation moved on to other subjects, growing more lewd, boisterous, and raucous as more alcohol was consumed.

  It was after midnight when Gabriel left the cave and the meeting, hugging his companions tightly in farewell and promising to keep in touch. He returned in good spirits to his house in Wisconsin—one of many he owned around the world—and his adopted children.

  Chapter Two

  “SO WHAT are you two up to today?” Gabriel sat at the kitchen table in his small house, sipping a cup of coffee.

  “I’ve got to work this afternoon.” Mira shrugged as she tucked a strand of long, blonde hair behind her ear. “Only a short shift, though. I’ll be home for dinner.”

  “I was just going to spend the day with the horses.” John looked at his sister and Gabriel. “Apart from that, not a lot. Why, Pops?”

  “I’m going to Oregon,” Gabriel answered. “Samael said he’d visit today.”

  The faces of his two adopted children lit up like the sun.

  “Uncle Sammy’s coming? Awesome!” John beamed. “Did he say what time he’d get here?”

  “I’ll bring home a pie,” Mira added. “I know he likes the banana ones.”

  Gabriel smiled fondly at the pair of them. “I don’t know what time he’ll get here, but I know he’ll be happy to see you both. And eat the pie,” he said, chuckling as he drained the contents of his coffee mug. “So, you two behave, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

  Mira came around the table to give him a hug, and Gabriel ruffled her and John’s hair and disappeared from the kitchen with a fond goodbye.

  Reappearing in the world in front of the building Michael owned, Gabriel looked around curiously, wondering again what Michael was doing. He saw that the building had at one time been some sort of mansion. It looked as if it had been transplanted brick by brick from the moors of England to this quiet spot in northwestern Oregon. There were several cars in varying degrees of repair parked beside the building and a group of mailboxes lined up by the front fence. The front lawn was slightly overgrown, weeds jostling for dominance with grass and several tall trees in a line between the fence and the building itself. Gabriel surmised from the number of mailboxes that Michael had divided the mansion up into several apartments for whoever else lived there.

  Seated on the stoop of the mansion was a large cat, a tawny-colored beast that resembled a puma, only smaller. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow and slowly walked over to the animal, making sure to keep his hands visible as the cat gazed at him with unblinking green-yellow eyes.

  “Hello,” Gabriel said quietly, crouching down in front of the animal.

  “Hello.” The cat’s ears twitched, but her voice sounded clearly in Gabriel’s mind. “You’re Gabriel, right?”

  “I am, yeah.” Gabriel sat down on the ground, heedless of the dirt and gravel, crossing his legs. “Pleased to meet you.
Michael home?”

  “Yes, he’s inside, first door on the left. He’s working.” The cat rolled her eyes comically, and Gabriel laughed. “I’m Carla. Nice to meet you, Gabriel.”

  “Thanks. So you’re a werecat?” Gabriel smiled to soften the bluntness of his question.

  Carla nodded. “Yes… well, sort of. A breed of werecat but not exactly a werecat. It’s complicated. Michael found me and saved me. He gave me a job, so I work for him, now. He takes in lots of strays.”

  “I think we all do, aye.” Gabriel lit a cigarette. “Not that we call you strays, mind.”

  Her mouth lolled open in the feline equivalent of a laugh. “If Michael’s anything to go by, all of you Archangels are stupidly polite.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart.” Gabriel grinned cheekily. “Mike’s the black sheep—well, okay, him and Samael are the black sheep—of our Brotherhood. They’re polite and quiet and good boys. The type of boys you could take home to meet your mum. The rest of us are rowdy and probably more than a little crazy and definitely not the type of boys you take home to meet your mum.”

  Carla laughed again at that and stood up, shaking herself, her fur fluffing out a little with the movement. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gabriel. I have to go and patrol, but it was nice to meet another one of you Archangels.”

  Gabriel stood up and stepped aside. “Likewise. Good hunting to you.”

  Carla touched his leg with her nose in farewell and loped off, her tail held high. Gabriel watched her go, and when she disappeared from sight, he walked into the building.

  The hallway inside was dim, and there were four doors, two on either side. At the far end was a staircase, beside it a security door. Through the metal grille, Gabriel could see glimpses of green, what he surmised was the backyard. Gabriel gave the hallway, stairs, and doors only the barest of glances before turning to the door Carla had told him was Michael’s. For a moment, he considered simply appearing in Michael’s rooms, but he discarded the idea in favor of good manners and instead knocked sharply on the wood. There was a brief pause before the door opened, and Michael smiled as he inclined his head and gestured for Gabriel to enter.

  “Gabriel. It is good to see you. Come in.”

  “Cheers.” Gabriel entered and looked around, quirking an eyebrow. He was surprised at the austerity of the room, for it was only one room with no partitions or walls. Against a window was a sink, an oven, and fridge; in front of the sink was a table laden with piles of paperwork and set with two simple chairs. Against the far wall was a bed, and directly opposite the door he’d entered through was a plain blue sofa. There was a door by the sofa, open enough for Gabriel to see that behind it was a bathroom. There was no television or radio, no books or photographs. There was nothing to suggest that this was someone’s home and not a motel room or something similar.

  “Forgive me, I do not require much,” Michael said, as if he’d read Gabriel’s thoughts. “This is all I need to do my work, and I do not require much sleep.”

  Gabriel shook his head, bemused. “There ain’t nothing to apologize for. We might both be Archangels, but that don’t mean we’ve got the same tastes in things. Or lifestyles.” He shrugged, moving to sit on the sofa. “I met Carla outside,” he continued. “I take it she lives here?”

  Michael sat down opposite him on the foot of the bed. “Yes. Many others live here. This building has been subdivided into twelve apartments. There are two families who live here and three married couples as well. They live here for they have nowhere else to go, and as they work for me, it would be selfish of me to deny them a home.”

  “You don’t have to explain it to me.” Gabriel smiled gently. “I’ve got two adopted kids right now myself. We do what we do for different reasons, aye, but at the bottom of it? We do it because it’s right.”

  “As you say.” Michael smiled a small, shy smile. “I was going to ask you about your children. Would you tell me about them, Gabriel? I heard that you had them from when I last spoke with God.”

  “Ah.” Gabriel sat back, only a little amused at Michael’s attempt to divert the subject from the residents of his building. “Like I said, there’s two of ’em. My eldest is my lass, Mira; she’s twenty-five, works at a bakery in town. John’s my son; he’s twenty-one and real quiet. Very shy lad, he works with the horses we have and keeps mostly to himself. Oh, he spends time with Mira and myself, and with Samael when he visits, but he don’t mingle with others his own age.”

  “How did you come to adopt them?” Michael’s head tilted to one side, his expression curious. His attention was wholly fixed on Gabriel, those liquid, dark eyes gazing into Gabriel’s own, and Gabriel tried to ignore the way his heart lurched at the intensity of that gaze.

  “Mira’s mother died in childbirth.” Gabriel sighed at the memory. “She were shunted from family member to family member. No one wanted her, not really. Her family were all poor and another mouth to feed weren’t welcome. I were taking care of some business and when the dust settled, I found myself alone with a toddler—she were barely two at the time. There were a note pinned to her dress; all it said were her name and that no one wanted her and could I find someone to take care of her.” He shrugged. “So, I did. I took her back to my house in Wisconsin and raised her as my own. It were an easy thing to sort out the relevant paperwork. For me, anyway. I’m not above using my power for these matters or for cheating when it’s necessary.”

  Michael grunted at that. “Does she know her birth family at all?” He frowned slightly as he continued. “It seems a terrible thing for a child to endure, to be abandoned so… so easily by those who are supposed to love and care for her.”

  “It is a terrible thing for a child to endure.” Gabriel shook his head. “No, and she don’t want to. I don’t blame her, really. What memories she has are hazy, but they ain’t good. She had terrible nightmares as a child. They started to get better when I brought John home. She’s very protective of her brother.”

  “How did John come into your life, then?”

  Gabriel took a deep breath, pulling his cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans and lighting one with a thought. Michael’s expression became faintly disapproving, but he said nothing, merely pulling an earthenware eggcup to him with his power and handing it silently to Gabriel, who took it with a nod of thanks, his lips quirking in a small grin at the shape of the eggcup, which was slightly lopsided and looked to have been made by children’s hands.

  “John were… he were born in South America, in a compound owned by a megalomaniac who believed himself to be the second coming of Christ.” Gabriel nodded as Michael growled. “Aye, that’s how I felt about the situation. Male children were either given to noncult family members or abandoned somewhere and left unprotected to die in the elements or be eaten by wild animals. Thankfully, the ones that were abandoned were few and far between, but John were born, and his mother, who were the cult leader’s favorite at the time, wanted to make a grand show of her loyalty to the asshole and do a human sacrifice.”

  “Of her own son?” Michael was so shocked that he didn’t scold Gabriel for using the word “asshole.” Not that Gabriel could blame him. The memory of that day still made fury burn in his Grace.

  “Aye.” Gabriel took a long drag of his cigarette. “It were Remiel who told me what were going on, and him, Sammy, and I went down to take care of things. Sammy were… not happy. Remiel were furious, I ain’t never seen him so angry. I rescued the baby, right off the altar, beneath a picture of Jesus the Son.” He shook his head again. “Disgusting. Still, though, no matter what we want to do, we can’t interfere too directly, so…,” he trailed off, swallowing against the tide of old and familiar anger that was still rising within him. “So anyway,” Gabriel concluded, “I took John home, Remiel denied the cult mercy, and Sammy took care of those souls who were near death and hoping for entrance to Heaven.”

  “Dare I hope that the cult leader was among them?” Michael’s voice was soft, full o
f anguish.

  “He were indeed.” Gabriel smiled a small, nasty smile. “His last hours weren’t too happy. I think his realization that he were goin’ downstairs instead of upstairs to Heaven were the single most enjoyable memory Sammy and Remi have of that day.

  “I took John home and raised him with Mira: fed them, clothed them, taught them. Enrolled them in school when they came of age, took care of them. I hope I’ve not done too badly by ’em. They know Sammy and Remi both, call ’em their uncles, which I know makes them both happy. Anyway, my kids deserve happiness,” he concluded.

  “You’re a very good soul, Gabriel.” Michael smiled a small smile.

  “Maybe.” Gabriel shrugged one shoulder. “So, that’s what happened. They’re not the first children I’ve adopted over the forever of our lives. They won’t be the last.” He decided to change the subject. “So, tell me about this place and what this Venatores Inc. thing is.”

  Michael took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “If you will permit me to show you around, I will explain.”

  Gabriel stood. “Aye, I’d be honored.”

  “I did not mean to absent myself from you all,” Michael began as they slowly walked outside, strolling through the grounds attached to the building. “However, I became caught up in duties and paperwork, and I lost track of time. I hope you can forgive me, Gabriel.”

  “Of course. There’s naught to forgive, Mike, I promise. We all get busy and caught up in our duties.” Gabriel smiled reassuringly at Michael, and Michael gave him a shy smile in return that Gabriel found absolutely enchanting and more than a little adorable. Together, they walked side by side as Michael led the way to the corner of the building, toward the spot with the parked cars and motorcycles Gabriel had observed when he had first arrived.