by Renee Pace
“She is to be my future heavenly wife, and I have come to claim her.”
“Like Hell,” she said, twisting around to confront him face-to-face.
Demon daggers looked more inviting than the leader’s pale blue eyes as they narrowed in contempt. Her jaw clenched shut so hard he heard the click of her teeth, and her knife cut deeper into his throat, causing more of his golden-hued blood to flow down his throat and onto his collar.
Chapter Two
“Izzy!” Meredith’s call cut through the taut-wire tension.
Isabella sliced her Cherub sister and best friend a silencing look.
“I think it best if you remove your knife, sister.”
The reprimand came from Shea, the only Cherub in the group who still attended worship four times a day. Shea’s hair fell in curly waves to her waist. Shea, who had to be forced to wear the on-stage costume, tended to follow proper decorum, praying for the day the heavenly gates once again accepted them. It wasn’t in Izzy to tell her again and again that those gates had been sealed shut from the likes of them.
Izzy was seventeen, and like all her fellow sisters hadn’t aged a day since cursed from the heavens. Izzy viewed it as a sick part of the Mistress punishment.
Now this Seraphim angel with his gray eyes that declared “I’m the man” had invaded their homemade haven. Anger rooted itself like a fast growing vine, twisting in her gut. This must be part of my penance. The Seraphim looked to be a little older than her seventeen years. She judged him to be about nineteen. Charcoal-colored hair—cut to human military precision—marked him a Sere, a step below becoming a full-fledged Sera warrior. Then he’d let his hair grow to the traditional shoulder length. To become Sera, he must first find his b’iã, preordained by the Mistress, of course.
That’s the reason he is here. Not to rescue me or us, but so he can become a true angel warrior. We don’t really matter to him…I’m just a means to his advancement.
“I take it you are Isabella.”
In typical Seraphim fashion, he was bossy and demanding. She loathed him instantly. Giving into Meredith’s wishes, she removed her knife, cutting him a crafty look.
Izzy didn’t say anything. Instead, she waited for him to press.
“You’re also the Cherub from the alley.” It wasn’t a question, and she noted how he avoided stating the obvious. She had saved his ass.
Izzy was pleased with her restraint. Swearing only earned her more ink on her body and since she had a temper, she was beginning to think it wise to refrain from cursing out loud. The last thing I want is for humans to notice me more and think of me as a freak show. While some might think the Hebrew word inked in the traditional semicursive lettering of Rashi script that was burned into her flesh, was a work of art, Izzy thought it was a bloody mad itch. Only Meredith knew the true extent of the curse the Mistress leveled at her.
“Yeah, I’m the Cherub who killed the demons you had drawn to the area. You’re lucky I was on my way home. Otherwise you’d be enjoying the fires of…”
“I’d gathered that myself, Izzy.”
“Isabella,” she corrected. No way did she want her nickname rolling off his tongue.
He nodded. The movement one of casual grace. She gritted her teeth. She wanted nothing to remember her homeland or traditions and this guy, in less than five minutes, had her recalling everything she’d lost.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her palms were sweaty, but she resisted wiping them on her leather pants.
“Wondering where else you might be hiding knives, my b’iã.”
Isabella got right into his face. “Never. Do not ever call me that. I am not, nor ever will I be your…your, oh Hell. I’ll never be your heavenly wife.” Izzy gasped as the fresh burn from the use of the swear word, Hell, caused more Rashi script to scorch her right butt cheek.
Turning on her heels, she stomped up the stairs all the way to the third floor of the apartment building. She knew it was a childish thing to do, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she had a mother or any other freaking adult to yell at her for her rude behavior. Two years ago, when they’d gotten kicked out of the heavens, the seven of them had quickly learned they needed to band together and work toward a common goal. Getting the Mistress to allow them back into the heavenly realm had been their first priority while assimilating into mankind. Now Izzy’s task was to keep her sisters safe and make their lives on Earth bearable.
“Why aren’t you at the Cherub safe house?” asked the Seraphim called Nathanael.
She tried to recall him but couldn’t. In fact, born of the house of Raphael, she wondered if he knew it had been his father who had severed her wings. Izzy hadn’t thought of her wingless form in years, and doing so now made her want to cry. Tears, she’d learned, were useless. Her sisters always took care to keep their own wings invisible and that act of kindness, while warming her heart, still felt like a slap in the face. She, no matter what, would never be angel again.
“Never fear, Seraphim. We went, but realized fast we were better on our own. After a few short months here we have established our own place on Earth. M’sumli sere q’ulat ch’eei—welcome to our blessed dwelling, Sere.”
“What did you say?”
“If you can’t recognize civility, far be it for me to—”
“What do you mean?” His voice sounded agitated. “How many months have you been here?”
“A little over two years now,” she said. Izzy turned the moment she reached the top step of the well-worn wooden stairs. When she had enough money, she’d add fresh paint to the hall and walls and get her business partner to strip the wood off the stairs.
“Something is wrong,” said the Seraphim.
“What?”
“In the heavens you’ve been gone for over a decade, but here…on Earth, it’s only been a few years.”
Izzy laughed. “Who cares? Trust me, living months on Earth felt like years. This life hasn’t been easy for us but let me set the record straight. This is our life. Our new life and we’re doing just fine. We don’t need you here to mess things up.”
“Thanks for the sound advice.”
“It wasn’t meant to please you. I gave all that stuff up when I got kicked out of the heavens. Things on Earth might be bloody hard and yes we might have to sing for our supper, but we are nothing but resourceful and we answer to ourselves, no one else. Get it?”
“You don’t sound very remorseful for your actions.”
Izzy sputtered. Her entire body shook with anger. “My actions. I took up arms for self-defense and to help. Don’t give me that. We could have saved a lot more angels if others followed me.”
“It’s forbidden,” he stated the obvious.
“No kidding. But that doesn’t make it wrong. And I’m done explaining things to you. I owe you nothing.”
Izzy turned and dismissed him, enjoying the sound of her clicking heels as she marched to her private bedroom. Unlocking the door she walked through, leaving her sisters to entertain their new guest. She, on the other hand, made straight for the large bathroom. A hot bath with the soothing scents of jasmine oil had her name stamped right on it. No way could she look into that Seraphim’s eyes one more time. Hearing him call her his b’iã, had resurrected something foreign and what she had thought long-dead within her—the need to be a dutiful Cherub. Serving the Seraphim would end her penance but steal her away from her sisters. She knew what becoming a b’iã meant—preordained destinies tied to one heart, one heavenly soul and Izzy wanted desperately to escape it all. She’d always thought she was too young to get mated and since landing on Earth, she knew that more than ever to be true. At seventeen she didn’t even know what she wanted out of this life, let alone be responsible for anyone else. She silently chuckled. For over two years now she’d been the one looking after her fallen sisters and that responsibility was more than enough. Gaining a husband, no thank you!
Izzy couldn’t wait to get out of the damn boots and stu
pid shirt she’d worn. She felt slightly nauseous with tonight’s turn of events. She had things to do, like once again go over the accounts, but her mind kept drifting back to what that damn Seraphim had said. She had to find a way to get rid of Nathanael soon or risk everything she’d fought for: independence, free will, and a life other than the preordained Cherub path she’d been born into. Life on Earth wasn’t anything like living in the heavenly realm, but at least here Izzy got to think for herself. Ascending again didn’t matter to her. Or so she told herself.
Shit! The Mistress sent Nathanael knowing he offered salvation—the way to serve her penance accordingly. Honor her Cherub teachings and culture, and allow this Seraphim to breed with her. That might delight her teachers but it wasn’t for Izzy. Not in my lifetime. Tempted to curse her frustration aloud, she decided a cooler head was warranted. Turning on the cold water, she ran her head under the stream until the ice cold shocked her, a brutal but necessary reminder. While the pleasure of a hot bath might be desirable, in the heavenly realm, sacrifices ruled.
Chapter Three
Nathanael watched Isabella leave. She was the obvious leader of the group of Cherubs, and knowing she was also the same girl who rescued him left him feeling unmanned. It wasn’t a feeling he liked. She was trouble and just his luck, his supposed mate. He watched as the cluster of other girls spoke amongst themselves, but none went after Isabella. In this realm, she was the ruler, and her unspoken desire for privacy overrode their curiosity.
“Where did she go?” Nathanael asked the Cherub who had forced Isabella to remove the knife from his throat.
The Cherub immediately looked down at the floor, as was the norm for a Cherub when addressed by a Seraphim, and quietly spoke. Nathanael moved slightly forward to better hear her words over the pounding sounds of the DJ’s music.
“We’re honored that you’ve found us, Nathanael. I’m Meredith.”
Nathanael waited a heartbeat for her to continue with the full litany of her formal name, but none came forward. It dawned on him then what the true meaning of their exile meant. They had given up their family names as a sign of respect to not disgrace their heavenly sisters.
“Isabella needs some time to adjust, Nathanael. Things on Earth have not been easy.”
Nathanael wanted specifics, but at that moment, the other Cherubs moved closer, and he immediately noticed how Meredith clenched her jaw and tensed. He got the distinct impression she would not say anything more about their exile while the others were present.
“Take me to her,” he demanded.
Meredith moved slightly out of reach. “Certainly, but…”
He waited, raising his eyebrow as the time stretched on.
She ushered her sisters over, forcing Nathanael to wait. It made him feel even more unwanted and unsure of what he sought. His purpose had seemed so simple, but nothing was going his way tonight.
“Sisters, let’s retire to our residence to refresh our souls,” said Meredith, gently coaxing the other Cherubs to lead the way from back stage to their dwelling.
Nathanael kept his mouth shut as he followed them out the backstage door. A covered walkway led to another building. This building, all dark brown brick, blended in more with the night. It looked in better shape than the center sitting in front, obscuring its view of the rundown block. Meredith was the one who held open the door for him. The Cherubs all moved quietly in order as they ascended the stairs to a top loft. There they split off, but Meredith was the one who urged him into what looked like a common area. Large waist-high windows framed the front of the building. The pristine cleanliness of the place and how white everything was, including the leather sofas and walls, was comforting. He moved to the window and was amazed at how even two flights up, the scenery changed. He’d been wrong. They had a wonderful eagle-eyed view of the Boston harbor and he highly suspected the amount of light streaming through the high windows in the day would make the room look almost holy.
He turned to face Meredith. Very briefly, they made eye contact, but as she’d been raised, she bowed her head and waited for him to speak.
“Where is she?”
“Isabella has gone through a lot, Nathanael,” said Meredith.
That was twice she’d warned him about his mate and his gut told him her words weren’t meant to protect him. They were to warn him. “What happened to you all?”
“Exile to Earth is not for the faint of heart, and we’ve been here for over two years now…”
It cut through him again, what Isabella had said. These angels, teens who should be cloistered away until their intended came for them, had somehow managed to survive amongst the filth of mankind for years on their own. A part of him yearned to ask how, but he didn’t want Meredith to be the one to explain things to him and he highly suspected she wouldn’t, even if he exerted his Seraphim right.
“Meredith, in the Heavens, you have been gone over a decade.”
Her gasp and faint pallor of skin forced him into action. He urged her down toward the sofa, careful to not touch her.
“You must be wrong.”
Nathanael shook his head. “No. I’m not. I can’t believe the Mistress left you alone for so long on Earth but to us it’s been even longer.”
Meredith closed her eyes. “Without Isabella, your intended, we’d have perished into the sins of man. She saved us. You must go to her and tell her what you have disclosed to me. Make her see reason for us to continue with prayer to the Mistress. Surely you are a sign we are back in her blessings.”
Nathanael wasn’t so certain that was the case. It had taken him days and lots of begging to convince the Mistress to grant him exile to Earth to search for his mate, but that didn’t explain why the Cherubs had stopped praying and paying their respects to the Mistress. It went against their nature. Surely he heard wrong.
“Isabella will want nothing to do with you, Nathanael, but you must gain her trust if we are ever to have hope of ending our penance,” said Meredith. “Her sanctuary is on the top floor, the door at the end of the hall.”
Nathanael nodded and made his way to the one Cherub who was his, even though he highly suspected she was going to fight him all the way.
* * *
“You think to avoid this discussion.”
The nerve of him.
Nathanael sat on the white duvet of her bed, a stark and imposing figure. Her space felt invaded, and his mere presence made her gut twist. She wished she had her Kita in her hand. Holding the weapon would make her feel better and give her something else to think about. And he’d hate it. Next time, she’d ensure all her weapons would be clearly on display just to piss him off.
After all she’d gone through, she tried never to think of home. Now, him sitting there like he owned the place—when it had been her sweat and voice that bought the brownstone—infuriated her. He had no right to make himself at home in her sanctuary. Izzy’s eyes darted everywhere, trying in vain to ignore the sight of his naked feet. Following tradition, he’d placed his black leather shoes next to the door of her bedroom. By the blessed scribes, that unnerved her.
With the towel draped tightly around her body, Izzy fought not to shiver. “Get out!”
“I don’t think so.” His bold statement snapped her cool reserve.
“How dare you? How dare you come now? And, why? I’m exiled—not worthy of a mate.”
“Guess the Mistress thinks differently,” said Nathanael, slightly relaxing his pose. She noticed that in the way he shrugged his shoulders.
He rose, moving into her space. She didn’t budge. The heavenly scent of his Seraphim body streamed through her senses. She wished he stank of that obscene-smelling cologne all the boys wore. One whiff of that stuff and it made her want to gag. Instead, soap and steel caught her senses, once again a reminder of home, and she cursed silently.
Why would the Mistress give her a mate? It was a curse leveled at both of them and for the first time that night she realized his predicament. Without a mate,
Nathanael, who looked like he’d followed a traditional Seraphim upbringing by practicing daily the use of weapons, couldn’t move up the ranks. He needed her. By all that was holy, she would not become anyone’s pawn especially after all she’d suffered.
That’s the problem with Cherub culture. Everything for us is about serving them—Seraphim. Not going to happen!
A breath away from her, he stared openly at her shivering form. “You’re going to catch a cold. Are you always this irrational? It’s very annoying. I’ll wait outside for you to dress and then we will discuss all of this, civilly and in the proper way of things.”
No one had spoken to her like he just had in her entire life. Not one person. Izzy was so mad, she wanted to kill him where he stood. Lucky for him, he turned away from her, not bothering to wait for her assent. Why should he? He was Seraphim. He commanded and she was to obey. Loudly, Izzy huffed. Dream on!
A list of blasphemous words almost spewed off her tongue. Not wishing her entire body to be inked in Rashi script, Izzy bit her tongue and watched with pleasure when he strolled out of her bedroom. She hated the fact she admired his fine backside. Turning her task to finding more appropriate clothing, she yanked on her skinny jeans and a tight T-shirt. She pulled on her black hoodie as Gareth opened her window to slide into her room.
His stealth alarmed her. Any other person would be dead. Technically, Nathanael wasn’t human so the fact he’d dared to enter her sanctuary was partly acceptable. Gareth, on the other hand, knew her boundaries.
He grinned. The emerald green of his eyes sparkled with mischief. By the path of light, he disarmed her, and for a human male that was not a good thing.
“Surprised?”
“That’s an understatement. Why are you here, Gareth?” asked Izzy.
The door burst open, a blur of bulky speed moved through, and the next thing Izzy heard was a crash as Nathanael grasped Gareth and wrestled him to the floor. The dark gleam in Nathanael’s gray eyes as he rushed into her room looked deadly, and in that one condemning glance he reminded Izzy of his father, Raphael, the angel who had severed her wings. The onslaught of that most painful, most humiliating memory, caused her to pause. It took her a moment to realize Nathanael meant business. He pushed his knife deeper into Gareth’s neck. In their heavenly realm, if a male entered a Cherub’s sanctuary who wasn’t her soul mate, a quick death followed.
