No Shadows Fall (5 page)

“Are you all right,
da bao
?” Michael asked. His voice was soft, kind, and Gabriel smiled.

“Aye,
solnyshko
. I’ve still got worries ’bout what’s just happened, but I’m not about to panic.”

Michael tightened his arms around Gabriel, and Gabriel’s smile grew.

“I will not let him hurt you,” Michael said. “I promise.”

“I know.”

“But….” And now Michael sighed. “I confess that I have worries also.”

Gabriel pulled back enough so he could look at Michael’s face. Michael’s expression was grave, even grim. His dark eyes were hooded, and there was an ancient foreboding there that Gabriel couldn’t even begin to decipher. Gabriel frowned, touching Michael’s cheek with one hand.

“What’s up?”

Michael sighed once more. “Semjaza was a master magician, was he not? Gifted with illusions and mind control of the monsters and the humans, and, to a lesser degree, the weaker of our own kind. I fear greatly that he may use these tactics again.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide. He had not considered that. “Oh shit.”

“Language. But yes.” Michael ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. “What if he finds Ishtahar’s sons before we do?”

“Then… we come up with an amazing plan to save them,” Gabriel said. He frowned slightly. “That came out wrong.”

Michael laughed. “It did not,
da bao
. But perhaps it could use a little bit of substance.”

“Yeah, most likely. Okay, so. Semjaza’s like, the wizard of Eden, only he can’t get into the city now. And he’s been locked up in Aquila since the days of Eden, only watching humanity and listening in. He probably listened to professors and learned things to make good his escape.”

“Entirely likely, yes.” Michael nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I would suspect it was that learning and his own magical abilities that allowed him to break free and remain so. I cannot feel him at all, and I have been trying.”

Gabriel grunted at that. “Me too. He’s slippery. Like a really annoyin’ eel.”

Michael chuckled. “He is. He is also prideful. More than anyone else in the Host.”

“More’n me, you mean,” Gabriel joked. “Maybe we can use that to trap him. Although, I don’t honestly know what we’re to do with him once we got him. Do we re-imprison him? Or do we send him to Hell? Or do we kill him? What are our orders?”

“As you say.” Michael squared his shoulders. “I will speak with God after we have spoken with the rest of the Brotherhood. I will ask what the preferred outcome is, and then inform you and the others.”

“Good plan.” Gabriel hugged Michael close again. Muffled against Michael’s shoulder, he asked, “Do we have to go down and join them yet?”

“No,
da bao
, not if you are not ready to.” Michael resumed his comforting caresses of Gabriel’s back.

“You are so damn good to me,” Gabriel said.

“Language. And you deserve more, but I fear this is all I have to
give.”

Gabriel snorted. “I don’t. I don’t deserve this. You are the most amazin’ being,
solnyshko
. But I ain’t going to push you away just because I don’t deserve you. You want me, I want you, far be it from me to get all noble. I’m too selfish. I’m keeping you all to myself.”

Michael huffed. “You see me with bias.”

“Aye, and you see me with bias too. That’s how love works.” Gabriel turned his head and kissed Michael’s cheek.

“Perhaps. I strive not to be biased, however.”

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Take the compliment, yeah?”

Michael huffed again. “As you say.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Yeah, I fucking love you.”

“Language, Gabriel. And I love you also.”

Gabriel ruffled Michael’s hair, and Michael reached up to fix it. Gabriel chuckled and kissed Michael’s forehead before resting his own forehead against Michael’s.

“I think I’m ready to go down and see the others now,” Gabriel
said.

“You are certain?”

“Aye.” Gabriel smiled. “I can’t pretend that I don’t have worries and concerns, ’cause I do. But I don’t feel like I’m going to explode with anxiety now, and I don’t feel like I’m overwhelmed with shock about everything.”

“I am glad.” Michael smiled. He stepped back and took Gabriel’s hand in his own. “Shall we go down to the house, then?”

“Aye, let’s do that.” Gabriel twined his fingers with Michael’s. “To be honest, I’m expecting them to be doing a lot of shouting.”

“I would not be surprised,” Michael agreed, as they started to walk slowly back toward Remiel and Ishtahar’s home. “I would also imagine that Uriel particularly will be swearing a very great deal.”

“Aye, that’s probably true.” Gabriel swung their hands a little as they walked. “Do you reckon that this century’s been way more busy than others?”

“It has.” Michael nodded. “I find that, barring disasters and war, that I can endure it. I have, I admit, enjoyed the near constant presence of all of our Brotherhood.”

“Maybe we should revisit that whole meeting every thousand years thing. Make it every century and then try and keep up with each other during the years between each meeting,” Gabriel said. “We’re getting old, after all.”

“You are more sentimental than I previously thought.” Michael smiled at Gabriel. “You are a very good soul,
da bao
. I am honored to be your bonded.”

Gabriel leaned over and kissed Michael’s cheek. “I’m honored to be your bonded, so that works out nicely, don’t you think?”

They reached the dooryard of Remiel and Ishtahar’s home, and Michael gently tugged Gabriel up the few shallow steps that led to the front porch. He knocked loudly on the solid oak door, and as the two Archangels waited for someone to answer it, Gabriel leaned into Michael a little, taking comfort from his lover’s warm, strong presence.

Remiel answered the door, his expression one of intense anxiety. “Gabe, Mike. Hey. Come on in.” He gestured for them to enter, and Gabriel was a little surprised that Michael did not let go of his hand.

Knowing Michael’s dislike of public displays of affection and his shyness about them, Gabriel switched to telepathy to ask,
“Are you okay holding my hand like this?”

“Should I not be?”
Michael shot Gabriel a look tinged with curiosity.
“I am not, I admit, comfortable in places with large crowds whom I do not know. But we are among our own choir, our Brotherhood. So, I am fine with this.”

“I’m well glad to hear that,
solnyshko
.”
Gabriel gently squeezed Michael’s hand.

Michael smiled just a bit and led him into the living room. There, Ishtahar sat. Her blue eyes were wide, and her face was pale.

Terror, stark and raw, was written all over her aura, her body language, and her features.

Gabriel took several quick steps to Ishtahar and knelt down beside her, placing one hand on her shoulder and taking her two small hands in his other hand.

“Ishtahar,” he said. “Ish, I am so sorry.”

She looked at him and blinked, biting her lower lip. Tears slid down her cheeks. “It is not your fault, Gabriel,” she said. “Semjaza was—is—a magician, after all. If anyone could free himself from Archangelic bondage, it would be him.”

Gabriel closed his eyes for a long moment, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m still sorry,” he whispered.

“So am I,” Ishtahar replied. “Oh, Gabriel. He will come for me. I know it.”

“He can come all he likes.” Remiel’s voice was harsh, angry, as he cut in. “But he’s not getting you.”

“Remi….” Gabriel trailed off as he looked up at the Archangel of Mercy and Compassion.

“It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.” Remiel stood there, arms folded over his chest, expression one of belligerent determination. “Did you set him loose? No. Did Ish call him up and invite him for tea and crumpets? No. This is on him. Like all the other crimes he and his have committed.”

Gabriel regarded Remiel for several long, unblinking moments and nodded, suddenly feeling much more himself. That Ishtahar and Remiel did not blame him was a huge weight off his shoulders, although he still felt guilty.

“I should have killed him at the time,” Gabriel said as he got to his feet. Ishtahar clutched his hand. “It would’ve saved a lot of misery.”

“You weren’t ordered to,” Remiel said, still in that same harsh voice. “Anyway, you did enough. How many did you kill, Gabriel? How many Nephilim?”

Gabriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no idea. “I… don’t know. I never counted ’em.”

“Six thousand, four hundred and nine,” Tzadkiel said. Gabriel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I was ordered to do a headcount,” Tzadkiel explained. “Sammy had to back up the count.”

“He speaks the truth,” Samael agreed, stepping out of the shadows. “They were many, Gabriel, and yes, they were of all ages. But you had no choice. Just as you had no choice when you slew the Egyptians because Pharaoh would not let Moses and his people leave.”

Gabriel sighed. “So much death,” he said. “A lot of it committed by me.”

“And by me,” Michael said. He moved to Gabriel and touched his cheek. “Forget not, Gabriel, that it was I, not you, who slew many of our own kind during the War in Heaven. It was I, not you, who slew the Babylonians who strove to conquer Israel. It was I, not you, who battled Lucifer for Moses’s soul and won; it was I, not you, who slew the Manicheans who strove to rise above the Sassanids. So do not say you have committed more genocide than I, for you have not.

“None of us here are innocent,” Michael went on. “Samael leads the dead to final judgment. Some of those, he must first extinguish the life force within. And Raphael, how many has Raphael lost to war, to disease? Enoch saw Raphael fight with sword and shield, killing many of Lucifer’s agents, countless numbers of them. Raziel has murdered those of the sons of Cain and of Adam who tried to use the contents of the Holy Book of Saint Raziel to take over the world. Tzadkiel has condemned many a petitioner at their final judgment; in fact, it is Tzadkiel who spoke against the Grigori so they remain in Hell. Uriel drowned millions of innocent human lives on the orders of God; we, all of us, stood by and did nothing when The Son was killed by human hands.

“We all have blood on our hands and our souls. We have all done terrible things. But those are things that we have
done
, not things that make us who we
are
. Cease this self-indulgent self-flagellation now and rise up, for we have work to do to save millions more than we ever killed or condemned to death.”

Everyone stared at Michael, shocked and a little awed. Gabriel, however, stared at Michael with not a little admiration and love. Michael, Commander of the Hosts of Heaven, First Archangel, Prince of the Celestial Realms, was
magnificent.

And he was Gabriel’s bonded.

Getting to his feet, Gabriel moved to his lover and cupped his face between his hands. “I love you, Michael,” Gabriel said in a low voice. And then he kissed him.

For several seconds, Michael kissed back, and then he pulled away with an embarrassed cough. “Public, Gabriel,” he scolded.
“Perhaps this is too much affection to display in front of our Brotherhood.”

Gabriel began to laugh. “You are so adorable.”

Samael chuckled. “You are both adorable.”

Gabriel grinned at Michael and stepped back. “So,” he said, turning to the assembled and realizing that all of the Brotherhood plus Sophiel, Brieus, Shateiel, Agrat, and Israfel were present, “to business then, yeah?”

“Good.” Uriel rolled his eyes. “I was about to send Razzy off to get me a bucket. So I could throw up.”

“Oh you were not, you big softie,” Raziel said, poking Uriel’s side. “You said they were cute.”

“Yeah, and cute means ugly but interesting. I rest my case.” Uriel sat down on Remiel’s sofa. “So, I think we should find Semjaza, string him up somewhere, and turn him into a piñata.”

“How… colorful.” Haniel’s mouth made a moue of distaste. “I doubt that he would have anything inside of him that we would want.”

“Probably not, but it’d be fun.” Uriel lit a cigar and turned to look at Ishtahar. He held his arms out to her, and she rose from her seat and moved to him. As he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, Uriel said, “I will absolutely not permit that dead-weight asshole to harm Ishtahar.”

“None of us will,” Michael said. “And language, Uriel.”

Uriel rolled his eyes but said nothing.

“What of your sons, Ish?” Raziel asked, moving to sit on the floor nearby.

Ishtahar sighed. “I do not know, Raziel. I have tried to contact them, but….” She trailed off miserably.

“The last Nephilim,” Samael mused. “They avoid us as it is; I cannot see them seeking us out now.”

“What we should first do,” Raziel said, “is find Ishtahar’s sons and then take them and her somewhere safe that we can protect.”

Remiel frowned. “What’s wrong with here?”

“You didn’t ward it enough,” Raziel said bluntly.

Gabriel and Michael exchanged a long look. Their island, hidden as it was, would be a perfect spot to hide Ishtahar and her two Nephilim sons. Before he could suggest it, Raziel continued, and Gabriel bit his tongue.

“Therefore, I recommend the island of Iona.”

“Where’s that?” Uriel asked.

“Scotland. Far northern Scotland, to be precise. It’s one of the holiest places on Earth. Touched by God, and His hand is evident everywhere. Being an island, it’ll be easier to defend, too, if it comes to that. Easier than Mecca or Jerusalem or Vatican City or Stonehenge or any number of holy places that are not islands.”

Michael gave Gabriel a small smile, and Gabriel smiled back. He was relieved that they hadn’t had to offer their island. It was selfish of him, Gabriel knew, but the island in the Pacific was theirs, and it was where they had bonded. It was as close to sacred as Gabriel had ever come during his time on Earth.

“I feel the same,
da bao
.”
Michael’s mental voice was soft, fond.
“I dislike this situation intensely, but I am relieved that our island remains only ours.”