No Quarter

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “Thank you, Gabriel.” Michael hesitated a moment before continuing. He seemed almost reluctant to explain himself, and Gabriel’s curiosity grew by the second.

  “Around three hundred years ago,” Michael finally went on, taking a deep breath between words, “it occurred to me that we were losing the ongoing war against the darkness. I know that this has been of grave concern to you and the others as well as myself. We angelkind are finite in number, and Archangels in particular are few. There are only ten of us after all, and for all that we are powerful and strong and wise, as humans grow and evolve and increase in number, we are spread thin.

  “I was in what is now South Korea when I had the idea. One supposes that in truth, the revelation is more accurate a term. I had been helping a group of farmers fight off bandits, and it came to me that even as human populations grow, we do not. We will not, we cannot. We are barren creatures and we cannot breed; we are prohibited from breeding with humans as you know. Creating half-breeds ended in Eden and remains my eternal regret that the women who birthed them suffered as they did.” He shook his head. “Forgive me, I did not mean to stray from the topic at hand.”

  “Nothing to forgive,” Gabriel said. “It’s cool. Go on—we’re finite in number, you said, and humans are increasing. So…?”

  “So, we will, therefore, need help.” Michael’s expression was reflective. “Humans were made in God’s image and His love for them is infinite. His commandment to us was to guide and protect them, and so we do. But this world is theirs, so why could they not help in the protection of it, and of the valuable gifts they were given—free will, freedom of choice?

  “I took some time alone to consider this revelation and to talk with Him. I remember I prayed upon the mountains for some time. Finally, after a year had passed, I went out into the world again and began to seek out those humans who worked actively to battle the darkness, to save other humans from monsters and to keep nightmares at bay.

  “At first, they were few.” Michael smiled ruefully. “They were all devout, however, either to Him, to their pagan gods or to this or that spirit.”

  “Aye.” Gabriel nodded. “God means many different things to everyone—I doubt that any single person could agree on what. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel.” Michael’s smile grew. “I discovered these humans, who, as you say, see God in a myriad different ways, all had one thing in common—the determination and strength of will and character to keep evil at bay as much as they were able. So, I took them under my care, trained them, taught them, and they went out and fought in places where we were unable to.”

  “Unable?” Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at that. “I don’t know that unable is the word you’re wanting there, Michael.”

  “Forgive me, I mean no disrespect. You must admit that it has become harder to be everywhere that we need to be, though.” Michael looked at Gabriel, his expression serious.

  “Perhaps, but it’s merely a change in tactics.” Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “No, okay, you’ve got a point. We’ve all noticed it. Tzadkiel’s damn good at what he does, but the Ophanim who report to him ain’t enough anymore. I need good intel to work with and Sammy needs to know that he’s guiding those souls who need to be guided after death, and…,” he trailed off and then laughed at himself. “I’m blathering. But yeah, essentially, you’re right. So is that what this Venatores thing is? Your specialized, elite combat unit?”

  “That… is a very good way of describing it.” Michael nodded, leading the way between the parked cars toward the rear of the mansion. “They cannot go everywhere we can of course, but they are most effective in gathering intelligence and taking care of monsters and low-level demons. And in the process of teaching them, I too have been taught. In the early years of humanity, after Eden, I walked among them, shared their lives and their sorrows, so that I might better understand them. I chose to have brown eyes to appear more like them and thus be treated as one of them. I learned much in those centuries, in truth, but I am learning more in these decades than I did then. I have been taught not to judge upon what I see, that all the beings who could be classed as monstrous in these latter days are not necessarily that way or inclined towards evil.”

  “Like Carla?” Gabriel asked shrewdly, as he lit another cigarette.

  “Precisely so.” Michael smiled faintly. “They grow quickly, these human children. But I have taken an oath, Gabriel, and I will not break it.”

  “It’s a good idea.” Gabriel considered what Michael had told him. “You’ve got humans from all walks of life with various skill sets coming together to work on the little things, and some of ’em, like the half-breeds or the monsters who ain’t evil, help too. Aye, a very good idea. It gives us room to deal with the important things and the bigger, badder demons and monsters, means we ain’t spread so thin. Yeah. The others’ll approve.”

  “Do you think so?” Michael looked at Gabriel, anxiously chewing his lower lip. “I had not said anything for fear that I would be told to cease what I was doing.”

  “Uri might object, but then, that’s Uri.” Gabriel shrugged. “You know how he is. He’s not fond of humans, never has been, really, but he loves God, and what God tells him to do, he does without question. He might grumble, but he’ll see the tactical purpose of it and accept it on that basis alone. As for the others…. Aye, they’ll see the merit in it. Although, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Raziel don’t already know. He is, after all, mysteries and secrets.”

  Michael nodded. “I thought he might, in truth. He did not seem particularly surprised when I handed him my report.”

  “Our youngest is good at keeping his poker face on,” Gabriel agreed.

  “Pardon, his… what face?”

  “Poker face. You know, the unreadable expression card sharks have, that blank expression? So they don’t give away what hand they’re holding, and you totally have no idea what I’m talking about, do you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Forgive me, but I do not pay attention to such things.” Michael looked abashed.

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” Gabriel grinned, delighted and charmed both by Michael’s innocence. “So,” he said, returning to the subject of the house and Venatores Inc., “you bought this place and renovated it into apartments, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cool. So, the members of your special unit who live here are humans who have nowhere else to go otherwise?”

  Michael nodded. “I have many such homes around the world. They are not all for Venatores, however. There are many who are for those in genuine need of such safety and care.”

  “You’re a good soul, Michael.” Gabriel’s grin grew fond as Michael blushed. “Accept the compliment,” he advised as Michael opened his mouth to protest.

  “As you say, then.” Michael cleared his throat, still looking embarrassed. “Anyway,” he rushed on before Gabriel could say anything else, “this is where my people train in basic hand-to-hand combat, and their children play over there.” He pointed toward a leafy green area with a playground. “I have shielded this place—shielded all my homes for those in need—with my power. Anyone not angelkind or in the know, as they say, will see only an old house that has been converted into apartments and will feel no curiosity whatsoever. Demons, of course, see nothing.”

  “Aye, of course.” Gabriel looked around at the large area of green. He saw the potential for training in the layout of the grounds almost immediately. “Humans need downtime, R and R, all of that. You need a place to do the paperwork. Makes sense that a demon wouldn’t know about it.”

  “I confess that I am relieved.” Michael scuffed a foot in the dirt.

  “Did you really think I’d be pissed off?”

  “Language, Gabriel.” Michael looked away. “I… did not know what you would think. It has, after all, been so very long since we spent any time together, and the last time was not… it was not the happiest, as I re
call.”

  Gabriel shrugged, sighed, and took a long drag of his cigarette. “It were war, Michael. Okay, it’s still war. It’s always war. It were war when the Crusades started to take root as an idea, and… I weren’t too happy about it.” He shook his head at himself. “Understatement, I know, I know. It is what it is. And those damn Crusades kept me very bloody busy for the next five hundred years, so I’ve a good reason to be grumpy about ’em. But that don’t mean I ain’t got time for you, because I do. I always have time for you. We are angelkind; more’n that, we’re Archangels. I care about you all far too much to let my own bad temper ruin our relationship.”

  “Language.” Then Michael smiled, a small, relieved smile. “As you say, Gabriel. I am very glad to hear that.”

  “So, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course. You may ask me anything you wish.”

  “How can I help?”

  Michael blinked in surprise. It was obvious that he had not been expecting that question, and his eyes lit up. Gabriel knew Michael well enough to know that Michael’s reserved nature made it difficult for him to express his emotions, even at the best of times.

  “You would be doing me a great service if you would train some of them in urban combat techniques,” Michael said thoughtfully. “And perhaps, if you would assist me with the reports?”

  “Anything you want, Mike.” Gabriel grinned, reaching over to lightly squeeze Michael’s shoulder. “It’ll be good.” And, he thought to himself, locked up tight in his mind where no other angel—let alone Michael—could hear it, it would give him the opportunity to spend more time with Michael, get to know him again. Maybe, just maybe, Gabriel thought hopefully to himself, his attraction to Michael would be mutual. He mentally shook himself and made himself pay attention to Michael’s words and concentrate on the here and now instead of hopeful wishes and daydreams.

  Michael smiled and nodded as Gabriel turned to face him. “Yes,” Michael agreed, his tone much lighter than it had been. “Yes, I believe it will be very good.”

  Chapter Three

  WHEN Gabriel returned home after his day with Michael, he found Samael and John sitting in the living room and looking somber. “What’s going on?”

  John ran a hand through his hair. “Mira’s… well, she had a bad day, Pops.”

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  John and Samael exchanged a long look that did nothing to calm Gabriel’s rising anxiety.

  Finally, his son answered. “She got assaulted at work.” He bit his lip for a moment before continuing. “I wanted to go beat the guy up, but she wouldn’t let me.”

  Gabriel frowned. “She in her room?”

  At John’s nod, Gabriel turned on his heel and marched to the door of his daughter’s room. It was closed and he tapped on it lightly. “Mira, sweetheart, it’s me.”

  “Just a minute.”

  Gabriel waited patiently, and when the door opened, he saw that Mira’s eyes were red from crying and there were tear streaks on her cheeks.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Gabriel sighed softly and wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him, shaking as she buried her face in his chest. “What happened?”

  Mira shook her head. “I don’t… He said I led him on. But I didn’t, Papa, I swear!”

  Gabriel pushed down the rage that was growing within him and kissed the top of her head. “I believe you. Is this a bloke who works at the bakery?” As she nodded against his chest, he hummed softly. “Right. And did you tell the boss?”

  “No.” She sniffled. “He’s the boss’s son.”

  That got a growl from him, and Gabriel shook his head. “I see. Want me to go have a chat?”

  Mira looked up at him, her eyes glassy, and smiled a small, shaky smile. “No, Papa. Thanks, though. I know what you’d do—you’d beat him to within an inch of his life.”

  “Probably.” Gabriel smiled gently at her. “What can I say, I’m protective.”

  “I know.” She rested her head against his chest again. “I just… I hate that place. I hate working there. I always have.”

  That was a surprise. Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t probe the minds of his children, although it was an easy thing for him to do and well within his power. It was a matter of respect for Gabriel—they were his children and they trusted him. He would not betray that trust if he could possibly help it.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” he asked in a gentle voice.

  Mira shrugged in his arms. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she said in a small voice.

  “Oh, Mira.” Gabriel sighed, tightening his arms around her. “I’m not disappointed in you. How could I be? You’re my best girl, remember? I’m proud of you, no matter what. I promise.”

  Mira nodded against his chest. “Okay.”

  “That an okay, you believe me, or an okay, stop talking?”

  “Both?” She looked up again and smiled wanly. “I don’t think I can go back to work there.”

  “Then you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Gabriel’s voice was firm but gentle.

  “But I don’t want to be… I didn’t… I’m an adult; I should be able to make a living.”

  Ah, Gabriel thought, the crux of the matter. “My dear daughter,” he began, choosing his words with care, “being an adult don’t mean that you can’t ask for help when you need it. Everyone needs help from time to time—even Archangels. You’ll find another job, and it’ll be better than that place. Matter of fact,” he said as an idea came to him, “you feel like coming into the living room to talk over something with your brother and me?”

  Mira looked surprised. “I suppose…. You’re not angry with me?”

  “No, I’m not. Promise.” Gabriel slipped an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her into the living room where John waited with Samael. Both men rose to their feet as Gabriel and Mira entered the room. “So, I just had a thought,” Gabriel said, directing his words not just to Mira but to John and Samael as well.

  “What?” John’s gaze moved from Gabriel to Mira and back again.

  “How attached are you two to this house?” Gabriel winked at Samael who quirked an eyebrow in curiosity but said nothing.

  “It’s… nice enough. Why?” John looked confused.

  Mira shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess,” she said.

  “Would either of you object to moving?”

  “Ahh,” Samael said quietly, a smile crossing his handsome face. “I see where you are leading with this, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel grinned at him.

  “Are you saying we can move somewhere better than here?” John and Mira shared a long look that Gabriel couldn’t even begin to decipher before John continued. “And if so, can we take the horses?”

  “I am and we can.”

  “Where would we move to?” Mira’s voice was soft, hopeful.

  “I’m thinking of Oregon.” Gabriel had a house in Portland, but he had a feeling that his two children would prefer somewhere a little quieter than a major city. “Oregon coast, to be specific.”

  “Riding on the beach would be good for the horses,” John said. It was obvious to Gabriel that his youngest was trying not to show too much enthusiasm until Mira had given her thoughts on the idea.

  Mira looked at John for a long moment then turned to look up at Gabriel. She pushed her hair back from her face and smiled. “I like the sound of that, Papa.”

  “Oh, thank God,” John said, letting out an explosive breath. “Yeah, Pops, that’s a great idea. Let’s do it.”

  Gabriel laughed at John’s reaction. “Okay, then we will. Give me a few days, and I’ll get the others to help move everything. Say the end of the week?”

  Mira nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

  “Awesome,” John agreed. “Wait, you mean the other Archangels?”

  “Aye.” Gabriel grinned. “They wanted to meet you two, what better way to do it than by havi
ng ’em lift furniture?”

  Samael guffawed at that, a rich, deep laugh that was infectious. “I think there will be some hard looks directed at you for insisting they lift and carry things, Gabriel.”

  “It’ll be good for ’em.” Gabriel laughed. “Nothing like a bit of a workout, yeah?”

  “You’re terrible, Papa.” Mira hugged him. “But I love this idea. Living by the beach sounds fantastic.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Gabriel reached over to ruffle John’s hair as he hugged Mira with one arm.

  The atmosphere in the house had lightened considerably, Gabriel thought. After a moment, Mira pulled back, and smiling a little ruefully she said, “I think I’ll get an early night. Today was really exhausting.”

  “All right.” Gabriel nodded. “Do you need anythin’?”

  Mira shook her head. “No. I’m fine. John made me go to the doctor just in case—I told the doctor I just wanted a checkup because I don’t want to talk about it outside of family yet, but I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” Gabriel smiled gently at her. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, Papa.” She gave him another quick hug, then hugged Samael and ruffled John’s hair on her way out of the living room.

  Gabriel sat down heavily in an armchair, lighting a cigarette and pulling an ashtray over to himself with his power. Samael sat opposite him, and John sat on the floor in an ungainly sprawl, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

  “You know the bloke who it were who upset our girl?” Gabriel was no longer smiling as he looked at John.

  John nodded. “I think so, yeah. The son of the boss?”

  “That’s what she said, aye.”

  “Then yeah, I know him. He’s probably popped up on Uncle Tzad’s radar. He’s the cop Archangel, isn’t he?”

  Gabriel chuckled at that description. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but aye.”