No Surrender, No Retreat

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “I don’t know what will happen once those collars are off,” Raziel said. “In theory, Raphael and Agrat should be able to use their powers immediately. Also in theory, Agrat and Shateiel should be able to feel their bond again and Shateiel will recover. In theory.”

  “Great.” Uriel sighed. “So, we do what we have to until they’re both back at full capacity?”

  “Yes, I think that sums it up.” Raziel nodded once and moved into the room, coming to stand beside Uriel and taking Uriel’s hand in his own.

  “When we’re done,” Uriel said in a low voice, “you and I are going somewhere private, and you can eat all the carbon ape food you want. And then we’re having hot, passionate Archangel sex.”

  Raziel grinned. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

  “I do. I love you too.”

  “Gentlemen,” Michael said, blushing faintly, “please leave such discussions until later, when you are in private.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” Raziel saluted mockingly, and Uriel laughed.

  “So, we leave here in three hours, is that correct?” Samael asked Tzadkiel.

  “Yes.” Tzadkiel nodded. “Three hours for us to get armored up and get everyone in place.”

  “I’m coming too,” a new voice from the doorway said.

  Everyone turned and stared.

  Israfel stood in the doorway. His jaw was set and his face was wreathed with a mixture of nervousness and determination. Behind him, Tabbris hovered, looking on in concern.

  “Israfel,” Michael began, “you—”

  “No. You can’t stop me. I know where you’re going.” Israfel stuck his chin out pugnaciously. “So either I go with you, or I follow you. But either way, I’m going with you. And if you order me not to, I’ll just disobey you, and you won’t want to punish me later because you’ll see how much it means to Raph to have me there. So there.”

  “Yeah,” Tabbris said, nodding and clapping Israfel on the shoulder. “So there.”

  Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is most unwise.”

  “I don’t care.” Israfel looked at the Archangels, and Uriel raised an eyebrow. “I don’t. I might not be in a bond with Raphael, but we’ve been together a long time, and it fucking hurts that he isn’t here, all right? It’s a fucking nightmare, and I feel like I’m drowning because I can’t reach him, because I can’t touch him. I feel like all desire for music has been sucked out of my Grace because I can’t see his smile or hear him tell me he loves me. So go ahead and tell me I’ll be in the way, because I know you will, especially you, Uriel, but you can’t stop me.”

  “Spunky, isn’t he?” Uriel said to Raziel.

  Raziel chuckled and shook his head.

  “As you wish,” Michael said with a sigh. “But you will obey Tzadkiel utterly. You will follow all his commands, and you will wear armor. I will not have you being injured by a stray arrow or bullet, am I understood?”

  Israfel saluted, a sloppy but enthusiastic gesture, and nodded. “Gotcha, Mike. Thanks.”

  “Do not thank me,” Michael said sternly. “It is my opinion that this is extremely ill-advised, and I do not approve.”

  “Me either,” Gabriel added.

  “But,” Michael went on, “as you are determined to be there regardless, you will at least do so under our watch, not sneaking around and getting into trouble. And you”—Michael fixed Tabbris with a glare—“will remain behind.”

  Tabbris rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, donkey-face.” He was heard stomping back to Sophiel and Brieus as Michael, blinking in utter confusion, looked at Samael and Gabriel.

  “Donkey-face?”

  “Tabbris is a very strange little angel,” Samael said solemnly.

  “And you look nothing like a donkey,” Gabriel said. “Nothing at all. You’re very sexy.”

  “Gabriel.” Michael’s cheeks colored. “Thank you, however,” he added.

  “You’re welcome.” Gabriel grinned. “’Sides, I wouldn’t be slow to tell you if you did look like a donkey.”

  “I see.” Michael shook his head. “Youth,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

  Uriel burst out laughing.

  “There is nothing amusing here,” Michael said. “Let us make our preparations.”

  “I beg to differ,” Uriel said, still chuckling. “And laughter’s good for the soul.”

  “He’s got you there, Mike,” Raziel said.

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Wonderful,” he muttered.

  Gabriel made a shooing motion. “Why don’t you all go get ready and give me and Mike a moment, yeah?”

  There was a rumble of agreement and everyone filed out of the bedroom, leaving Gabriel and Michael alone. Uriel closed the door behind him, giving the two Archangels as much privacy as possible, and turned to catch Raziel’s arm.

  “Razzy, wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to know. Before I go.” Uriel took a deep breath. “When I get back, if, you know, you want… we could bond.”

  Raziel’s smile was like the sun coming up. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, really.” Uriel smiled back. “I do love you, Raziel. More than you know. It’s been eons. Bonding is the next step.”

  Raziel hugged him tight. “Thank you,” he murmured against Uriel’s chest.

  “You never have to thank me for loving you, babe,” Uriel said gruffly as he swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat.

  “Thank you for being you, then,” Raziel said.

  “You’re welcome.” Uriel kissed the top of Raziel’s head.

  14

  RAPHAEL was worried.

  Agrat was in pain and he could do nothing to help her. It wasn’t the wound on her head, he knew that. That injury was healing up nicely. No, what was causing her so much pain was the collar blocking them from everything and everyone they loved. In Agrat’s case, the block cutting off the bond she shared with her husband caused her further pain. Raphael could only imagine how Shateiel himself was coping. He envisaged that it was not well.

  All he could do was hold her and rock her gently, like a child, as she clung to him, shaking. Repeated pleas to their captors to unlock the collar from her neck had been ignored. When Raphael had said the longer the collar was left on, the more likely it was that Agrat would die, Sebastian had been called.

  Now Sebastian stood gazing at the two of them, his expression inscrutable. Raphael was trying not to lose his temper as he glared at the man, having explained, yet again, what was happening.

  “So let me understand,” Sebastian said, his expression one of profound skepticism. “Agrat is ill because she can’t feel her husband, to whom she’s married by some weird angel mystical bond.”

  “Yes,” Raphael said, relieved that the man seemed to have caught the edges of the concept.

  “Sounds like a bunch of hokey new age rubbish to me.” Sebastian snorted. “Maybe we should light candles and sing ‘Kumbaya’ to heal her.” He snorted again. “How do I know this isn’t a trick? Take the collar off her and she uses her power to assault my associates?”

  “Do you have any faith at all? In anything or anyone?” Raphael wanted to scream in frustration. “Trust my word as an Archangel.”

  “Your word, Archangel, means less than nothing to me. Your war brought chaos to this planet and made me lose a lot of money. Try again.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Fine. Don’t remove the collar. Leave things as they are, and tomorrow, when your friends come to feed us, they’ll find her corpse. There goes your auction. And, I’d wager, you’ll have a lot of very angry humans who are involved in all sorts of illegal activities and are not overburdened with morals and scruples, looking to relieve their frustrations at a failed auction on you.”

  That got Sebastian’s attention. His brow furrowed. “Wait,” he said curtly and marched out of the room.

  Raphael rolled his eyes again. “Because, of course, I’m going to go dancing in Vienna
while you’re out of the room. Honestly.”

  In his arms, Agrat laughed weakly. “I think sarcasm would be lost on him, Raph.”

  “Common sense is lost on him.” Raphael shook his head. “How do you feel?”

  “Empty.” Agrat took a deep, shaky breath and raised her head. “And growing more so. I feel as if my Grace is slowly being sucked out of me.”

  Raphael couldn’t hide his distress. “I am so very sorry,” he whispered.

  Agrat touched his cheek with one hand. “I know, dear friend. It’s not your fault. If I do die, please take care of my humans? Without me, they will have no one to watch over them and keep them safe from greedy, deviant men.”

  “I promise,” Raphael said, blinking back his tears.

  “Thank you.”

  Sebastian returned then, flanked by two male figures. Raphael could not suppress his start of surprise.

  “Uphir?” Raphael stared at the Archdemon. “And Marchosias?”

  “Hello, Raphael,” Uphir said.

  “Raphael.” Marchosias inclined his head.

  “I’ve spoken with my business partners here,” Sebastian said, “and they confirm your story. Apparently this bond… thing… is common among you angels.”

  “It’s all very sweet, I’m sure,” Uphir said.

  Raphael regarded the Archdemon with narrowed eyes. “Why are you involved in this insanity, Uphir?”

  “I like chaos,” Uphir said with a slight shrug. “And I don’t like being told I cannot be involved in a nice little war by virtue of a stupid treaty I entered into with you.”

  “So, basically, because you’re an overgrown spoiled brat. Right.” Raphael shook his head in disgust. “Do Ondrass or Adramelek know you’re involved?”

  Marchosias chortled. “Of course not. We are not stupid, Raphael. We know how to hide our actions.”

  Raphael privately doubted that but said nothing. He simply shook his head again and looked at Sebastian.

  “I’m loath to do it,” Sebastian said, “but we will remove the collar for an hour, then return it. Marchosias feels that an hour a day will serve to keep Agrat alive.”

  Raphael clenched his jaw. “I see. And if not?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Sebastian opened the barred door and stepped into the cell. Raphael did not move as the man unlocked the collar from Agrat’s neck. Once he left the cell, he locked the door behind him.

  “One hour,” Sebastian said, and then, with Uphir and Marchosias in tow, he left the two angels alone.

  Agrat sat up, running her hands through her hair. She was pale and wan, but the shaking in her slender frame had subsided.

  “How do you feel?” Raphael asked.

  “As weak as a newborn babe,” Agrat admitted. “Thirsty too.”

  Raphael grabbed a bottle of water from beside the bars of the cell and handed it to her.

  She drank greedily. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Raphael looked at her curiously. “Can you feel Shateiel at all?”

  Agrat nodded. “He’s being kept unconscious by the Brotherhood. That’s all I can feel. And his sorrow.” She took a deep breath. “His grief is enormous.”

  Raphael sighed. “I’m not surprised. I hope that the Brotherhood show up soon.”

  “So do I. I’m not sure an hour a day without that damn collar will be enough.” Agrat worried her lower lip between her teeth. “I can feel my power, I can hear the Host. But I feel so weak, I don’t know that I could bring enough will to bear to break those bars, let alone reach out to the Host.”

  “That answers that, then,” Raphael said. “I was going to ask if you could break out of here or contact the Host.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey now, it’s all right. It’s not your fault.” Raphael smiled at her. “It’ll be fine. They can’t keep us forever.”

  “I suppose not.” Agrat smiled back.

  The hour passed all too quickly, and soon, with the collar around her neck, Agrat wilted like a flower, and Raphael found himself holding her and praying harder than he ever had before. He didn’t know if God could hear him or if God was even aware of what was happening, but Raphael was determined not to let himself be sidetracked by a legion of what ifs. God would hear, the rest of his Brotherhood would come, and he and Agrat would be safe.

  “My faith is an unshakable foundation,” Raphael muttered to himself. The words sounded hollow in his ears, and he closed his eyes, instead thinking about Israfel and remembering the many happy times he and his lover had spent together.

  Raphael let his mind wander, replaying a memory of Israfel and him strolling around a farmer’s market. Israfel had been bouncing, delighted by all the fresh produce and varieties of stalls selling all manner of wares, Raphael remembered with a small smile. Raphael had ambled along behind Israfel, chuckling as Israfel had bought herbs, vegetables, fruit, and meat; he’d taken an apple from Israfel’s purchases and eaten it while Israfel bounded like an eager puppy being given a treat to a stall selling Moroccan spices.

  The day had ended with Israfel cooking a meal of near banquet proportions. Raphael had eaten more than he knew he should, but Israfel’s talent in the kitchen meant that everything looked and tasted delicious. Finally, leaning back in his chair, Raphael had pulled Israfel onto his lap, wrapped his arms around him, and kissed Israfel gently.

  Israfel, his arms around Raphael’s neck, had smiled, his bright-blue eyes guileless as he said, “I wrote you a symphony.”

  It still amazed Raphael, and he remembered the music, the stirring crescendo, and the four-part harmony that ended on a stanza of what he could only describe as pure joy in musical form.

  “Oh, Iss,” Raphael murmured, “I miss you, baby.”

  GABRIEL tightened the straps of his left vambrace and looked around the living room. Tzadkiel, Uriel, Samael, and Michael were all in their armor, and Sophiel and Brieus were focused on their computers.

  Gabriel turned to look at Israfel. Israfel looked almost comical in the leather armor that Tzadkiel had given him, like a child playing dress up. A wave of compassion washed over Gabriel, and, he walked to the Angel of Music.

  “Okay there?” Gabriel asked.

  Israfel started. “Yep. Yep, fine, no problem, I’m good.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “You don’t look so good. You look a bit nervous.”

  Israfel chewed his lower lip and nodded. “I am. I mean, I want to be there and be with Raph, but I’m not used to wearing armor. I don’t remember the last time I wore it. I’m not a fighter, Gabe.”

  “No, but others are. It’s for your own protection.” Gabriel softened his tone. “Stay close to Tzad, yeah? He’ll keep you out of harm’s way.”

  “Okay.” Israfel nodded again. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t sweat it, kiddo.” Gabriel ruffled Israfel’s hair and moved to join the other Archangels.

  “He’s nervous,” Gabriel said in an undertone to Michael, Uriel, Tzadkiel, and Samael.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Tzadkiel said.

  “I know. I’m just sayin’. He could be a liability.” Gabriel sighed. “I hate that I’m saying this, ’cause God Himself knows that I empathize, but he’s like a kid playing with the adults, and we ain’t playing. We’re about to go into a fight.”

  Uriel grunted. “You can’t stop him.”

  “I know that too.” Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t like this situation, is all.”

  “None of us do,” Michael said, “but we must make the best of it.”

  “I will also watch him,” Samael said. “He will not come to harm, Gabriel.”

  “I hope not.” Gabriel straightened. “All right, then, we good to go?”

  “I believe we are,” Michael said. “Your Seraphim are prepared?”

  “Of course.” Gabriel grinned. “Let’s go do this thing.”

  “As you say.” Michael gave them all a curt bow and vanished.

  Gabriel waited only long en
ough to make sure that Tzadkiel and Samael were with Israfel before following Michael.

  The angels he commanded were setting up a perimeter, moving with a great deal of stealth. The sky was still dark, indicating that dawn was still a little way off. Gabriel checked what his troops were doing, and, satisfied with their progress, he moved toward Michael.

  Michael stood in the middle of a featureless plain, gazing out over the sand and scrub. “I can sense the caves beneath us,” Michael said as Gabriel joined him. “They are many. Most of them are filled in with sand and contain nothing else, but there are half a dozen that are connected which contain life.”

  “Human, angel, or demon?”

  “All three.” Michael’s expression was grim.

  Tzadkiel, Uriel, Samael, and Israfel joined them then, and Michael pointed to the east.

  “The caves they are in are just over there,” he said. “You see that large boulder? They are to the right of it.”

  “It’s a pretty big landmark in a place that don’t contain much,” Gabriel observed. “Let’s just make sure it ain’t booby-trapped.”

  “As you say.” Michael gestured to Uriel, and Uriel drew his sword with a soft rustle of steel.

  Uriel walked forward, light on his feet, his sword held with the point low, his gaze everywhere. He reached the boulder and walked around it, rested his free hand on it for a long moment, and then walked back to join them.

  “Report,” Michael ordered.

  “No booby traps,” Uriel said. “Nothing except caves beneath. I think they believe that Uphir and Marchosias’s power is enough to keep them hidden.”

  “Then they’ll be in for a shock,” said a new voice.

  The Archangels turned, and there, behind them, stood Adramelek, Ondrass, Markus, and ten demon warriors. The presence of so many angels clearly made the demon warriors uncomfortable; they shifted from foot to foot and looked around, a great deal of white showing in their eyes.

  “You have come for Uphir and Marchosias?” Michael asked.

  Adramelek nodded. “We won’t interfere in what you’re doing,” he said. “We’ll grab those two and go. They have an appointment.” His lips curled in a nasty smirk. “Lightbringer’s most eager to have a little chat with them in the Castle of Black Ice.”