No Quarter

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “I’ll see you at your place in a few hours, then. I’ll see my kids, brief Shateiel, then come over.”

  Michael nodded once imperceptibly and turned to the others. “I shall speak with you all soon,” he said. “Now I will go and brief my people.” With that, he vanished.

  “Never a dull moment,” Raziel said simply. Uriel grunted and vanished as well, and Raziel shook his head. “Tzad, need another pair of eyes? I’ll help you out ’til Uri comes back from the gates, then I’ll go join him in Eden.”

  “Thanks, Raz.” Tzadkiel nodded. “There’s a lot to go through.”

  “I shall go and speak with Metatron and Haniel,” Samael said in a solemn voice. “And then Remiel, if he will see me. He is still angry about Ishtahar’s part in this.” He was gone a moment later.

  “An’ that’s my cue to go.” Gabriel stretched, unfurling his wings and giving them a little shake. “See you all soon.” He blipped out.

  “IS EVERYTHING okay, Pops?”

  Gabriel flopped with relief onto the couch and smiled at John, trying to convey more reassurance than what he currently felt. “It’s… interesting is what it is, aye,” he conceded.

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Mira moved to hug him. “I noticed the angels wandering around. It was hard not to, actually.” As Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her, she grinned. “They stand out, Papa. They aren’t used to walking around people, are they?”

  “Not so much.” Gabriel rubbed his face with one hand and made a mental note to assign Seraphim to the town who were used to being around humanity. It was just one more thing he had to do before he could allow himself to relax. At least he didn’t require sleep, which meant that he wouldn’t have to pause in his tasks.

  “What’s going on, then?” John was looking at Gabriel with a serious expression on his face that made him look older than his years.

  “There’s a situation,” Gabriel said slowly, “and I can’t go into detail just yet. But, I want you two to stay within the boundaries of this town for now. There might be a reason to move you later, but I’m hoping not. If there is, though, do you want me to move you or let you stay here?”

  “Why would you move us? And where to?” Mira was frowning.

  “War,” Gabriel said with a weary sigh. “And to Michael’s apartment block. There’s enough power there and support from the others who live there that it would be the safest spot.”

  He didn’t miss the look his two children exchanged. “Why don’t we hold off on moving until later,” John suggested. “For now, we’ll stay put. I’m guessing that this isn’t a war like what we’re used to seeing on the news, huh?”

  “No, that it ain’t.” Gabriel shook his head. “I hope we can head it off at the pass, so to speak, but I doubt it. Demons are stubborn an’ so are we, so there’ll probably be a full-blown war before the end of the month.”

  “The Apocalypse?” Mira asked.

  “No. No, that ain’t due to occur for a very, very long time yet.” Gabriel privately wondered if he’d have to appear to various religious leaders in dreams, pounding that information into their skulls. Metaphorically pounding, of course. “This is a skirmish.”

  “A skirmish that you’re calling a war. Pops, that’s inconsistent.”

  “John, I’m tired,” Gabriel said. “And I have a million things to do before tomorrow morning. So forgive me for not using the best words to describe the situation.”

  There was a silence at that, and then John nodded. “Gotcha. Seriously, do what you have to. We know the stories—what Uncle Sammy’s told us, anyway—and we know what you guys do isn’t like what normal, regular human soldiers and military do. You fight first causes and primeval elements and stuff out of legends. Mir and me, we’ll be okay. We’ll stay here in Deep Bay. Though can you do something for us before you head off again?”

  “Of course. Anything.” Gabriel was so proud of his son right then, he thought he’d burst.

  “Tell the angels you have watching us to come say hi. We’d like to get to know them.”

  Gabriel blinked and then he laughed. “Right, I’ll do that.” He closed his eyes for a moment as he sent his thought out and then opened them again. “And done. They’re a bit confused, so go easy on ’em. They ain’t spoken to humans since before I destroyed Sodom and her sister cities.”

  “That’s… a really long time ago.” Mira looked at him wide-eyed.

  “Aye.”

  “Okay. Well, we’ll be gentle.” She shook her head. “Go, Papa. You have work to do. We get it. Go and take care of it, we’ll be here.”

  Gabriel kissed her forehead, ruffled John’s hair, and with a grateful, fond smile, blipped out.

  He emerged in the world in the rich, lambent air of the island of Bali. Honing in on the aura of Agrat’s Grace, Gabriel locked his wings and soared lazily on a warm updraft, spiraling over the island as he reached out for the home she lived in with Shateiel, coming to earth just outside the gates.

  The house was traditional Balinese design and, as Gabriel walked toward the doors, peering through the wide-open windows, he could see it was furnished the same way. He knocked, and a moment later, Agrat, wearing a simple blue robe, opened the door and ushered him in.

  “Welcome to our home, Gabriel,” Agrat said as she sat down on the bamboo mat that covered the floor of the spacious living room. Brightly colored cushions and throw rugs were artfully positioned around the room and a low-set teak coffee table was in the center with two matching armchairs and a divan facing it.

  “Sit, please,” she added, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Shateiel will be out in a moment.”

  Gabriel sat in one of the armchairs, leaning back and looking around the room. It opened out to a deck where statues of ancient animals stood and plants with bright foliage grew. A few shallow steps led down to a grass lawn and a square pool, made of marble, with a fish-shaped fountain gushing water at one end. Bamboo carvings and windchimes lent gentle noise as the warm air blew lightly.

  “This is an amazing home, Agrat,” Gabriel remarked.

  “Thank you.” She folded her legs beneath herself and looked up as Shateiel entered the room.

  “Lieutenant,” Gabriel said, grinning.

  “Sir.” Shateiel sat gracefully, placing the tray he carried on the coffee table. He wore simple linen trousers and a tunic, both white and trimmed with blue, and he was barefoot. It was the most relaxed that Gabriel could ever remember seeing his second-in-command.

  “Are you still pissed off?” Gabriel got right to the point.

  “No, not really.” Shateiel shrugged. “Agrat was right. And once I was sure she was fine, I calmed down.”

  “You were still very angry,” Agrat said as she began to prepare tea, pouring from a china tea pot into matching china cups, the scent of the tea fragrant and inviting. “Sugar, Gabriel?”

  “No, not for me, thanks.” Gabriel slid down from the armchair to the floor, crossing his legs as Agrat and Shateiel had. “A Chinese tea ceremony from a Korean woman in a Balinese house furnished with saris and designs from India on an Indonesian island popular with tourists. Quite a mixture of cultures, Agrat.”

  “I like Asia.” Agrat shrugged as she handed him the tea cup. “I like the many customs and cultures, and I like the climate here in Bali. We’ve lived here a very long time.”

  “Six hundred years, more or less,” Shateiel agreed as he took his own cup from her and sipped.

  “Already?” Agrat looked surprised. “Time flies when you’re having fun, I suppose.”

  Shateiel grinned at her in a silent laugh, and she grinned back.

  “So, Gabriel, you have questions.” Agrat turned her attention back to him. “And you have orders for my bonded.”

  “Aye, I do. To both.” Gabriel set his cup down carefully. “Agrat filled you in, yeah?” As Shateiel nodded, Gabriel sighed. “Then if it ends up being that we have to seal off Oregon and use the state as a base, I will need you on the battlefield with me.
We will give no quarter to these demons, Shateiel. They want to dominate this world? They’re going to have to fight to the death for it.”

  “Are you hoping their courage will fail them and they’ll run away?” Agrat asked.

  “Aye. Though I doubt it’ll happen.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Stubborn nuisances.”

  Shateiel nodded. “I will do as you command me, Sir.”

  “Excellent. I knew I could count on you. And you’ll be working with Raphael?” Gabriel looked again at Agrat.

  “I will. I am not a healer, but I do know a little about giving comfort, so I’ll do what I can, where I can.” Agrat sighed. “I dislike war, Gabriel.”

  “Most do.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Agrat smiled. “And it would be my luck that I fall in love with a warrior.”

  “Which is my great blessing.” Shateiel’s smile held a touch of adoration.

  “Can I ask a question?” Gabriel looked from one to the other.

  “Of course, Gabriel. You can ask whatever you like.” Agrat raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

  “How long did it take for you two to bond?”

  “You mean, after we met?”

  “Aye.”

  Agrat hummed thoughtfully, and Shateiel smiled, looking down at the cup in his large, strong, battle-scarred hands.

  “Ten years.” Shateiel’s telepathic answer was soft. “I badgered her mercilessly every day until she said yes to me. It was one of the greatest days of my life.”

  “You old sap,” Agrat said, lightly touching Shateiel’s cheek. “He’s as romantic as he was when we first got together,” she said to Gabriel. “But yes, it was ten years. I wasn’t sure that he was sure about me. It took a while for him to convince me.”

  “And you didn’t have any troubles with the whole bonding ritual?” Gabriel asked.

  “None. Of course, finding a place to do it that was nowhere near human habitation or civilization was easier then; there were fewer humans and fewer cities.” Agrat regarded him with wise, dark-blue eyes. “You and Michael are discussing bonding?”

  “We agreed to discuss it after this… situation.”

  “Wise.” Agrat sipped her tea. “The pain of loss or injury between bondmates is profound. It’s better to do it in peacetime, so you can adjust to it. It’s extremely intimate.”

  “I’ll admit I have no bloody idea what it feels like.” Gabriel grinned ruefully. “Would you guys mind telling me a bit? I want to be able to know that this is definitely the right thing to do… later.”

  “Sure.” Agrat nodded. “It took us a little while to get used to feeling it, because there are no boundaries between us. No walls between our thoughts or our Graces. We are two, yes, but two in form only. In mind, in Grace, we are one. Shay’s tendency toward random violence was difficult for me to process as I’m not a warrior, and my… promiscuity was difficult for him. In the end, we figured out that we needed to have at least some walls up because our very natures at their basest level are so utterly different. So, I refrained from sleeping with everyone who I used my power on—all it takes is a touch, really, and I don’t need to have intercourse with them to do that. And Shay made sure to put up a wall, a symbolic wall, before going to battle. It was enough so that I could put up my own wall if I didn’t want to see it in my mind’s eye as he was doing it.

  “It makes communicating over long distances much easier,” she went on. “And it makes sex intensely… intense. I can’t describe it, Gabriel. It’s just… there are no boundaries. Not even flesh. You’re so intrinsically entwined together, you literally do not know where one of you stops and the other begins. It’s the most profoundly intimate experience, being so completely naked in body and soul and trusting your lover so much to be that naked with them. I cried the first few times. The beauty of it, the pleasure of it was emotional for me. Yes, the Angel of Sex cried. Over sex.” She chuckled softly.

  “You were not the only one, beloved.” Shateiel’s thought was gentle.

  “True. Still. When he’s hurt, I feel it, like an echo, and vice versa. The ritual itself—raising a circle of power, promising our hearts and Graces to each other, and sharing blood and power—was really just an appetizer of how intimate the bond would be once we’d consummated it.”

  “Do you ever regret doing it?” Gabriel asked.

  Shateiel shook his head at once.

  “No.” Agrat smiled wide and bright. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Oh, we argue. We argue a lot. We are, after all, very old and set in our ways. But we don’t part company angry. That’s the trick. Well, the trick that’s worked for us, anyway.”

  Gabriel sipped his tea, his expression thoughtful. As he set the cup down on the table, Agrat refilled it for him.

  “Does that help?” she asked.

  “Aye. A very great deal. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Agrat set the teapot down on the tray and canted her head to one side, gazing at him inscrutably. “Michael has been in love with you for nearly a thousand years, you know.”

  Gabriel instantly choked on his mouthful of tea. Shateiel pounded his back until the coughing subsided, and Agrat looked contrite.

  “Sorry,” Agrat said. “I didn’t mean to make you choke.”

  “He what now?” Gabriel stared at her. “Thanks, Shateiel. No, come on, you’re joking, Agrat.”

  “No? Why would I joke about that?” She looked confused.

  “Okay, fine, then why hasn’t Haniel said anything?”

  “Because”—Agrat sighed, the long-suffering sigh of the truly put-upon—“he was ordered not to by Michael himself.”

  Gabriel swore. “And you’re positive?”

  Agrat gave him a “duh” look, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

  “Fine, okay, you’re sure. Why didn’t he say anything, then? Michael-he, I mean.”

  “I know who you mean.” Agrat smiled. “Because, Gabriel, you are Gabriel, larger than life, full of joie de vivre, wild and bright, shining like the moon that you’re the Archangel of. And he’s Michael and he’s shy, and you’ve never been shy a day of your life.”

  Gabriel opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally, he let out an explosive breath. “I knew he was—is—shy, but this… this is a helluva secret to keep to himself.”

  “He doesn’t think he’s worthy of you.”

  Gabriel groaned. “Bloody hell.”

  “No, don’t grumble and don’t scold him.” Agrat fixed him with an unblinking look. “He is painfully shy, Gabriel. He has loved others—we all have—but he has loved far fewer than the rest of us. He’s never taken a lover for purely sexual pleasure because he doesn’t feel it’s respectful. He’s been pining in silence over you since the end of the First Crusade.”

  Gabriel gaped at her, stunned. “So long?”

  “Yes. And you will not embarrass him by telling him this.”

  “I can’t lie, Agrat, if he asks—”

  “If he asks,” Agrat cut him off, “you answer. But don’t upset him. He’s still not sure what he did to turn your head now after so long, but he’s determined not to lose you, and his shyness, his low self-esteem, and his own issues keep him from telling you this himself.”

  Gabriel frowned. “So why are you telling me, then?”

  “Because you have the right to know.” Agrat sipped her own tea. “And because he is wrong and you do love him, for himself, without any reservation. That”—she met his eyes again—“that you may certainly tell him. In fact, I highly recommend that you do tell him. As soon as possible.”

  Gabriel nodded, sipping his tea automatically, his mind awhirl with what Agrat had told him. “I can’t believe I never realized,” he said finally.

  “He is good at hiding his emotions.” Agrat shrugged.

  “No kidding. Wow.” Gabriel leaned back against the chair. “If I’d known….”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Agrat advised. “Just love him now and be grateful that y
ou two are together.”

  “Agrat,” Gabriel said and drained his tea, “when did you get so wise about love?”

  She smiled serenely at him. “When I met your lieutenant in a dusty tavern just outside of Pergamon.”

  Shateiel laughed silently at that, leaned over, and kissed Agrat’s cheek.

  “And I’m taking that as my cue to leave you two to it.” Gabriel stood up. “You kids have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “May we take that as a command, General?” Shateiel asked with a smirk.

  Gabriel laughed. “Sure, why not.” He bowed and vanished.

  Chapter Thirteen

  GABRIEL did not go immediately to Michael’s home because he needed to think. Agrat’s words had shaken him, and despite the dire situation involving demons, Shamshiel, and an egomaniacal human, Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to dwell on anything other than Michael.

  “Michael has been in love with you for nearly a thousand years, you know.”

  Agrat’s words echoed in his head, and Gabriel moved, blipping—teleporting—to Oregon and hovering in the sky high above the state, his wings fully unfurled, thinking hard. Beneath him, Oregon was laid out like a rumpled tablecloth set in early spring. Her grass and early-sown crops alternated green and gold, rich brown earth and black tar roads forming lines and curves between the colors. Towns and cities were toylike from this vantage point and even the impressive peak of Mount St. Helen’s summit, rearing like talons toward the sky, appeared smaller than it actually was.

  Gabriel flared his wings, feathers rustling with a stiff wind, and his senses reached out for a pocket of warm air. Finding one deeper inland to where he currently was, he swooped toward it, locking his wings and almost floating, like a dust mote in God’s eye, on the warm current as it held him aloft.

  Michael had loved him—him, Gabriel!—for longer than anyone else in Gabriel’s life ever had. It was remarkable to Gabriel; he didn’t consider himself particularly lovable. He was well aware of his vices, his ego, and his vanity. He wasn’t bothered by these things, quite the opposite. Gabriel was comfortable in his own skin, in his own Grace, and felt no need or reason to change.