No Surrender, No Retreat

by L. J. LaBarthe

  The energy of the circle slowly dissipated in a shower of shimmering gold and silver light as Gabriel and Michael lay together on the grass, panting.

  “That were amazing,” Gabriel said, running a hand down Michael’s chest.

  “It was.” Michael kissed Gabriel’s neck. “Are you all right?”

  “Aye. Are you?”

  “Yes.” Michael turned his head to gaze tenderly at Gabriel. “We will need to bathe, however.”

  “I know.” Gabriel grinned. “We got a bit messy there, hey?”

  “We did.” Michael looked at the blood smears on Gabriel’s body. “You look like you have been in a bloodbath.”

  Gabriel laughed. “I have, in a way, and so have you.”

  “I suppose we have.” Michael smiled a slow, gentle smile. “Shall we bathe at the house or in the sea?”

  “It’s a beautiful afternoon,” Gabriel said, stretching beside Michael. “Why don’t we bathe in the sea?”

  “As you say.” Michael’s eyes went distant for a moment, and Gabriel felt the soft whisper of power as Michael sent the dagger, goblet, and their clothes back to the house.

  “I can hear your power when you use it,” Gabriel marveled. “I mean, I could hear it before, but it’s like… it’s clearer. I can identify it as yours.”

  “It is very intimate,” Michael agreed. He touched Gabriel’s cheek. “I fear I cannot seem to stop touching you.”

  Gabriel turned his head to kiss Michael’s fingertips. “I can’t stop touching you either, so we’re even.”

  Michael smiled and kissed Gabriel’s cheek. “Come, let us go to the sea.”

  “You’ll need to untangle your wings from mine first.”

  Michael chuckled. “I am aware.” He furled back his wings and stood, holding a hand out to Gabriel.

  Gabriel got to his feet, brushing bits of grass off himself, and took Michael’s hand. The beach wasn’t far away, but he was reluctant to walk that short distance. Holding Michael’s hand didn’t seem to be enough contact. He moved closer, and Michael closed the small distance between them and wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck. They didn’t speak as Michael teleported them to the edge of the sea, and Gabriel kissed Michael tenderly as the cool water lapped at their feet.

  “I have wished for this for many years,” Michael’s thought was tinged with wistful longing, an emotion that he probably was not even aware of.

  “You should have said something to me earlier.”

  “What was I to say, Gabriel? You were… indulging yourself. You seemed happy. It was not for me to interfere with that.”

  “Oh, Michael.” Gabriel ended the kiss and gazed into Michael’s eyes. “If I’d known even a smidge of what I know now, you would’ve been courted to the best of my ability.”

  Michael smiled. “You are very kind.”

  “I also know myself. I never thought you’d be interested in me this way, so I made myself not think too hard about you like this.” Gabriel pulled a face. “I’m not saying it right.”

  “I know what you mean.” Michael touched Gabriel’s cheek. “However, we are together now, and we are bonded.” His smile grew. “And we are still dirty.”

  Gabriel burst out laughing. “That we are. Let’s swim.”

  Michael pulled out of Gabriel’s arms and ran into the sea, and Gabriel followed him, using his wings to splash his lover as he went.

  Michael laughed, ducking to one side and splashing Gabriel back. Gabriel dived into the seawater and grabbed Michael’s legs, pulling them so that he was dunking Michael beneath the gentle waves. When Michael emerged, spluttering, Gabriel whooped with laughter, earning himself a light slap from Michael’s left wing.

  They played in the sea until the sun started to set, and then, wet, clean, and happy, they trudged out of the cool water to the sun-warmed sands. Michael pulled in towels and a beach blanket with his power as Gabriel drew in piles of driftwood and set a fire going, and they dried off and sat down on the beach blanket, then cuddled together.

  “It were a good day,” Gabriel said, kissing Michael’s shoulder.

  “It was,” Michael agreed, running a hand through Gabriel’s hair.

  Gabriel hummed, a low sound that rumbled from deep in his chest, and nuzzled Michael’s shoulder affectionately, like a big cat. “You make me very happy,” he said.

  Michael smiled. “You make me happy also. I do not remember the last time I was this happy.” His smile faltered.

  Gabriel looked up and cupped Michael’s cheek. “Hey. Just because you’re happy don’t mean the world’s going to end or the proverbial Sword of Damocles is going to fall onto your head. There’s no rule about Saint Michael the Archangel being happy leading to very bad things, you know, yeah?”

  Michael wrinkled his nose. “Perhaps. I prefer to be cautiously optimistic while expecting the worst, however.”

  “Whatever gets you through the day, I suppose, but I don’t get it.” Gabriel tilted his head a little. “I mean, life’s for living, yeah? And God wouldn’t have given us free will as He did if He didn’t want us to make choices and evolve and grow. He wouldn’t have sent us here to do our duties and make informed decisions and live, love, and laugh if we were to be unthinking automatons who do naught but fight. There’s so much to enjoy on this planet, so much to be thankful for. Even after the war. Or hell, after any war. Hope don’t die so easy, and we should embrace being happy. And He wouldn’t have blessed our bonding as He did by letting us do it at all.”

  Michael was silent for a long moment, his fingers running slow paths over Gabriel’s chest. “Perhaps that is something I have yet to fully understand,” he said. “I am not… good with such things. It will come to me in time.”

  “Aye, ’cause you’re clever.” Gabriel nodded.

  Michael chuckled. “More some days than others.”

  “Well, it’s a start.” Gabriel kissed Michael’s cheek.

  “As you say.”

  It was a few hours before dawn when they returned to the house. Gabriel had put the bonfire out by drenching it with seawater as Michael knotted one of the towels around his waist and gathered up the other and the beach blanket. They walked back, hand in hand, talking of small, unimportant things.

  When they reached the house, Michael took the towels and beach blanket into the laundry and emerged wearing a pair of simple white linen pants and a shirt of the same fabric. He sighed as he took in the form of Gabriel naked and sprawled on the bed, and Gabriel laughed, acceding to Michael’s repeated requests to at least put on a pair of pants. He stood up and dug around in the large chest of drawers by the wardrobe, pulled out clothing, and donned a pair of faded sweatpants similar to those he had worn earlier.

  “Thank you,” Michael said, nodding in approval.

  “I honestly don’t understand the need to cover myself when we’re at home and private like, but if it makes you happy, I’ll do it.” Gabriel smiled at his lover and gently touched his cheek.

  Michael turned his head to kiss Gabriel’s fingers. “I appreciate it, Gabriel.”

  “Anything for you, solnyshko. I’m heading outside to stargaze.”

  “As you say. I will join you in a moment.”

  “Okay.” Gabriel gave Michael a quick kiss and ruffled his hair, chuckling as Michael pulled a face and fixed his hair almost immediately.

  Gabriel went back outside the house to look at the stars. He gazed up at the pinpricks of light that shimmered in the dark predawn sky.

  AQUILA was talking to him, speaking of energy and light and darkness, and Gabriel leaned against the balustrade that bordered the porch, communing silently with the constellation in which Semjaza was imprisoned. Gabriel had imprisoned the wayward Grigori prince there for the simplest and most effective reason: Aquila was strong. The stars that made up the constellation formed a closed shape, much like the beak of an eagle, for which the constellation was named.

  The story of Aquila was a simple one. Aquila had been Zeus’s eagle a
nd had tortured Prometheus at Zeus’s command when Prometheus had stolen a ray of sunlight, wrapped it in a reed, and given it to humans as the gift of fire. Aquila’s story and the shape of the constellation were perfect to serve as an eternal prison. Semjaza could watch as humanity spread out over the Earth, evolving and growing, but he could do nothing. He could not speak to any other angels or to humanity, and he would remain trapped within those stars until the end of days.

  Suddenly the calm, even chatter of the stars stopped and the constellation blinked out. Alarmed, Gabriel stiffened, reaching out with his power to find the reason for the sudden blackout of the stars.

  “Gabriel?”

  Gabriel almost jumped out of his skin as Michael touched his shoulder.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you,” Michael began, but Gabriel cut him off, his eyes wide.

  “Aquila went silent. It blacked out.”

  Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Pardon? Aquila, the constellation?”

  “Aye.” Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, looking back up at the sky. “I don’t….”

  There was a sudden howl from the constellations, and Gabriel froze. Aquila’s light came back in one bright burst, and the stars roared their fury even as the word came from them. The word that could be heard by Michael as well as Gabriel and, Gabriel would later surmise, all of the Archangels, Ishtahar, and her two surviving Nephilim sons.

  “Gabriel! Semjaza has broken free!”

  Gabriel’s blood ran cold. He looked at Michael, whose expression was one of alarm and anger, then looked back up at the sky.

  “How?” he cast his thought upward toward the firmament and to Aquila.

  “Unknown. He is heading for Earth.” Aquila’s voice was troubled, angry, fearful.

  Gabriel growled. “It is not your fault,” he said, his mental voice firm. “We will fix this, old friend. You have my word.”

  The hum of the stars was grateful, and Gabriel turned to look at Michael.

  “Semjaza is free,” he said.

  Michael nodded slowly. “So I heard. This bodes ill, Gabriel.”

  “I know.”

  “We need to call a meeting of the Brotherhood.”

  “I know,” Gabriel said again, starting to pace back and forth. “We need to find Semjaza and put him back in his prison.”

  “At the very least,” Michael agreed.

  Gabriel looked at Michael, knowing his expression was troubled. “This is my fault.”

  “No.” Michael’s reply was sharp. “It is no more your fault than it is the fault of the constellation of Aquila. It is Semjaza’s fault. Now, get dressed. I will put the call out, and we will go to Tzadkiel’s and begin to search for the Grigori prince.”

  “And protect Ishtahar.”

  “Of course.” Michael gestured toward the open door. “Go and get dressed in proper clothing, Gabriel. And then we will go and deal with Semjaza, Grigori Prince, once and for all.”

  Gabriel nodded and almost ran indoors. He quickly changed out of the sweat pants and into jeans and a T-shirt. He tugged on socks and boots, cursing under his breath.

  Semjaza was free. Semjaza was out of his prison. Gabriel’s cursing grew louder as he stood up and went to join Michael on the porch. Even as he took Michael’s hand in his own, Gabriel knew that Semjaza would be coming for him. Semjaza had sworn revenge on Gabriel, and eons imprisoned in the stars would have done little for his sanity. With a sudden cold clarity, Gabriel realized that allowing Semjaza to watch the Earth and the evolution of everything that lived upon it had probably not been the wisest course of action. Semjaza was a magician, a scholar, and he would have studied everything he could while locked away in his prison.

  As Michael moved them from the paradise of their island home to Tzadkiel’s apartment, Gabriel could not shake the bad feeling he had that was growing by the second.

  Semjaza was free.

  And Gabriel, Ishtahar, her two surviving children, and most likely Remiel would be his first targets for revenge.

  For the first time in a very long time, Gabriel felt the first stirrings of fear. He felt Michael’s hand in his, warm and real and solid, but it did nothing to reassure him.

  Semjaza was free and out for revenge.

  About the Author

  L.J. LABARTHE is an Australian woman living with disabilities and her cat. As a young child, she won a competition for drawing a picture of Australian Humpty Dumpty, complete with Aussie hat, corks hanging from strings dangling from the brim to keep the flies away. The drawing was accompanied by an adventure story with Humpty Dumpty she wrote set in Australia. From that moment on, she has not looked back.

  She spends her free time watching television, reads newspapers online for fun, and enjoys a good novel. She loves to cook and enjoys a snifter of absinthe from time to time.

  L.J. would like to take a moment to let her university professor in creative writing know that knowledge of iambic pentameter isn’t necessary in order to be able to enjoy the craft of writing, no matter how much he may have screamed to the contrary.

  How the story started

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