Authors: L.J. LaBarthe
Remiel burst out laughing. “I can’t imagine it, but okay.”
“He thinks they are amusing.” Michael shrugged, still smiling. “He is lying on the bluff on the other side of the island, watching them and their rookery.”
Remiel grinned. “Trust Gabe to find something entertaining.”
“He keeps me young,” Michael said simply.
“I’m glad you’re happy, Mike,” Remiel said sincerely.
“Remiel!”
Both Archangels turned at the call, and Remiel’s smile grew as Ishtahar, with Hiwa behind her, ran up the street toward him and flung her arms around his neck.
“Hello there, dear heart,” Remiel said, kissing her cheek.
Ishtahar kissed him soundly. “Hello, Michael,” she said when the kiss ended.
“My lady,” Michael said with a bow.
Ishtahar beamed. “My son is returned to me,” she said, “and I am very grateful.”
“I hope to have good news regarding Ahijah soon,” Michael said.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for us,” Ishtahar said. “I mean it, Michael. You have been very kind. All of the Brotherhood have been very kind. And Agrat, Shateiel, Brieus, Sophiel, and Israfel too.”
“You are loved, Lady Ishtahar,” Michael said with another bow.
Ishtahar’s eyes sparkled with joy, and she cuddled close to Remiel as Hiwa looked on.
G
ABRIEL
LAY
on his stomach, peering over the edge of the bluff and watching the birds. The puffins had been leery of him at first, but they had quickly gotten used to him. They called to each other in their raucous voices, their rounded bellies pushed out in front of them like feathered battering rams as they waddled to and fro in the rookery. Gabriel liked watching the puffins. They were amusing, and the chicks learning to fly under the watchful gaze of their elders were more than a little cute.
Iona was a beautiful island, Gabriel thought as he rested his chin on his arms and watched the puffins’ antics below him. It was an idyllic and quiet island, but he was rapidly growing bored of his confinement. He was annoyed that he had to be confined at all, while Semjaza was free to go where he pleased, without any restrictions whatsoever. Gabriel was chafing at the restrictions that had been placed on him, and his temper was growing shorter by the day.
With a disgruntled sigh, Gabriel rolled onto his back and stared up at the clouds. There wasn’t really much to do on Iona, especially when he didn’t have any pending orders he needed to attend to. All was quiet on the human and demon front, which was a good thing, but it was also dull.
Not used to living a life of sedentary peace, Gabriel pounded his fists on the springy green turf on which he lay and made a noise of annoyance. He wanted to go into a town or a city and find a bar, mingle with humans, listen to their conversations, their music, and drink a great deal of their beer. He could hear music coming from the village, and knew that Israfel had commandeered the only piano on the island not belonging to a family and was playing his heart out. It was lovely, but it wasn’t the same.
Gabriel sat up and ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up like a haystack. The mainland of Scotland wasn’t that far away, he reasoned. He could sneak out, teleport over to a town or city close by, go to a bar and relax for a few hours, and be back by midnight with no one the wiser. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
Standing up, Gabriel brushed the bits and pieces of grass off himself and concentrated, blurring into clean clothes—a pair of blue jeans and a dark gray sweater over a white shirt. He pulled his black leather jacket to him and tugged it on, then ran his hands through his hair again, straightening it as best he could without a mirror to see what he was doing.
Michael would not approve, Gabriel knew. He hesitated, then reached out to see where Michael was and what he was doing. Michael’s attention was wholly fixed on Remiel, Ishtahar, and Hiwa. Gabriel suppressed the urge to dance with glee. With Michael’s attention elsewhere, Gabriel could definitely sneak out and have some fun.
He laughed to himself, feeling very much like a naughty teenager. The laughter was tinged with fond nostalgia as he thought of the time, so many years ago, that he’d caught his daughter, Mira, climbing into her bedroom window after sneaking out to go to a party. He’d grounded her for two weeks, and she had sulked, but he had remained firm. Well, he had advantages that Mira hadn’t—he was an Archangel, and he was not above cheating.
Determined, Gabriel reached out with his power once more, seeking a fair-sized town that wasn’t too far away from Iona. His farseeing eye locked onto the town of Oban, in the Firth of Lorn. There were bars and pubs aplenty there, as well as restaurants, and from what Gabriel could see, what looked like a rather good fish-and-chip shop. He grinned to himself and pulled his power back, took a furtive look around to make sure no one was watching him—apart from the puffins—and vanished.
Oban was a lovely little town, and Gabriel sauntered out from the narrow alley that he had teleported into as if he had no cares in the world. He could smell fish and chips cooking and decided that he was going to eat first, then go to one of the pubs and drink and chat with the locals. Maybe he’d play a game of pool. His grin broadened at the thought.
The fish-and-chip shop was empty of customers, and Gabriel nodded a greeting, then ordered a piece of cod with a small serving of chips and tartare sauce. He waited patiently the fifteen minutes it took to get his food, and then with a wave and a happy “Cheerio!” of farewell, he walked down to the seashore and sat on a bench to eat.
It was remarkable how relaxed he felt, Gabriel thought as he ate the piping hot fish and chips, dipping pieces of battered fish into the tartare sauce. The pathway nearby was busy, fishermen returning home and young men and women walking toward their choices of evening entertainment. Seagulls hovered around him, some of the braver ones landing near his feet and cocking bright, hungry eyes at him, silently entreating him to share his chips. Gabriel chuckled as he tossed the birds a few of the chips and watched them swoop and dive en masse to battle for possession of them.
After finishing his food, Gabriel stood up and put his garbage in the nearby trashcan and sauntered up toward the main street of Oban in search of a pub. It didn’t take him long to find one, and entering the front bar, Gabriel was pleased to see that it was half full. Posters on the walls advertised a local folk band playing in the dining room later that evening, and many of the patrons were enjoying a pre-gig drink.
Gabriel went to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable on a barstool. The bartender brought him a pint glass full of foaming ale, and Gabriel, after paying, took a long drink, making a happy noise to himself. He leaned against the bar, watching a group of twentysomethings play a game of pool and another group of older men clustered around a dart board, laughing and talking.
He was halfway through his beer when a pretty blonde girl came up to talk to him, and Gabriel, always happy to chat to anyone, entered into a conversation with her about the town and the band that was to play that evening. A young man joined in the conversation, and soon there was a small group of people standing around Gabriel, all talking, laughing, and drinking.
When the door to the dining room opened and a table was set up with a cash box so people could pay the door charge to see the band play, Gabriel cheerfully allowed his young companions to tug him along. After paying the entry fee, he walked through the doorway into the dining room of the pub. The dining tables and chairs had been pushed back against the walls, and a small stage was set up with instruments at the front of the room. There was a bar at the rear of the space and a mixing desk shrouded in shadows to one side. People were buying drinks and chatting happily as the band stepped onto the stage and prepared to start their set.
When he’d bought himself another beer, Gabriel leaned against the wall and watched, smiling to himself as his companions moved closer to the stage. The band began to play, their music full of life and energy, and the audience started to dance. The singer, a woman with jet-black hair, sang lustily, and Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. She was singing in Gaelic, her accent was perfect, and the audience sang along with her to the chorus.
He drank his beer slowly, setting down the empty glass on one of the tables, and, laughing, allowed himself to be pulled into the crowd to dance with the young blonde woman. He was in midstep when he felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck, and Gabriel turned his head, his sharp eyes penetrating the gloom of the room easily.
Michael was standing at the back of the room, his arms folded over his chest and his expression one of displeasure. Gabriel gulped, a sudden sense of “Uh-oh” filling him. He politely excused himself and left his dance partner, and threaded his way through the crowd to join his lover.
“Hey,” Gabriel said, not quite knowing what else to say.
“Gabriel.” Michael’s voice was cold. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I was, aye. What’s wrong?”
Michael’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and he clenched his jaw. “Do you know what time it is?”
Gabriel frowned. He seemed to have lost track of the hour. “Um, no?”
“It is nearly one in the morning, Gabriel.” Michael’s expression grew even more foreboding.
“Really? I totally lost track.” Gabriel kept his tone light and inoffensive. Unfortunately, it seemed to anger Michael even more.
“Come,” Michael ordered and marched out of the pub.
Gabriel took a deep breath and followed him, feeling every inch the naughty schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He kept his mouth shut as Michael walked briskly outside and toward the boardwalk by the sea.
Finally, Michael stopped and turned, glaring at Gabriel. “I have been searching for you for hours. I feared the worst when we could not find you on Iona.”
“Oh, shit.” Guilt flooded Gabriel. “I’m sorry, Mishka. I didn’t think.”
“Clearly.” Michael’s voice was frosty.
“I figured you’d just reach through the bond when you wanted to find me,” Gabriel said. “I made sure to stay close to Iona. I just wanted to go somewhere with beer and people, that’s all. I was bored on Iona.”
“Bored.” Michael’s voice was as bleak as the midwinter. “What a wonderful reason to make us think you had been taken by Semjaza.”
Gabriel paled. “But… the bond.”
“Gabriel, I was extremely worried. I did not think to search for you that way until Remiel suggested it. How would you feel if the situation were reversed?”
“Oh.” Gabriel looked down at the ground, feeling sheepish and even guiltier than before. “I’m sorry,” he added in a small voice. “I didn’t think.”
“As you say.” Some of the edge had gone from Michael’s voice. Now, he sounded only tired.
Gabriel looked up, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Michael’s expression was no longer angry; now it was sad.
“Hey,” Gabriel said, hesitantly reaching out to touch Michael’s arm. “I’m okay, yeah? Nothing happened. If Semjaza had been around here? He’d be a smear on the pavement, yeah?”
“How can you be sure, Gabriel?” Michael looked at him, his dark eyes full of fear. “Anything could have happened. We do not know what Semjaza is planning. We do not know whom he has called on to aid him. We do not know anything! And you left the safety of Iona because you were
bored
! Gabriel… you scare me, sometimes.” The last was said in a very soft voice.
Gabriel was speechless. He had no idea what to say. The minutes ticked by slowly, and finally, Gabriel took a deep breath. “I swear, I didn’t mean to worry you, Michael.”
Michael sighed and shook his head. “Let us return to Iona.”
“Okay.” Gabriel’s reply was meek, and he followed without comment as Michael walked down the path toward the edge of town.
Michael was silent as they walked, and he kept walking when the path ended and became a dirt track. Michael continued to walk, following the track as it led inland, becoming a deer track and winding its way along, away from the sea and toward the darkened heather and long grass that covered the landscape beyond the town.
Gabriel frowned, wondering where they were going. Michael didn’t seem to be preparing to teleport to Iona anytime soon, and the path led deeper and deeper into the wild greenery of country Scotland. Here and there were large boulders and broken stone walls, and the wind whistled in from the sea, tugging at Gabriel’s hair and clothes. He could smell frost in the air and knew that there would likely be snow in the next few days. The trees shifted restlessly in the wind, the creaking of their branches a low rumble beneath the whistle of the wind.
Gabriel’s ruminations on the weather were cut short when Michael spun on his heel and grabbed him, pulling him close and kissing him hard. Flailing for a moment, Gabriel finally settled for placing his hands on Michael’s hips as his lover fisted his hands in Gabriel’s leather jacket. Michael bit at Gabriel’s mouth, and Gabriel whined, instantly turned on.
“M-Michael,” Gabriel panted between kisses, “what brought this on?”