by Renee Pace
“Nathanael, get off him! You’re making a mistake.” Izzy made her feet move toward them.
Gareth had the good sense not to move a muscle, but his pissed-off look warned he sought blood. It was a look she had never witnessed on his boyishly charming face, and after two years of intense friendship she thought she’d seen all sides of him. She’d been wrong.
Nathanael gave her a cold look. “What? You know this…?”
She knew he struggled not to say human with the disgust and contempt a Seraphim felt. A few years ago when she’d fallen to Earth, alive, her body in the grips of agonizing pain, it had been humans who had tended to her wounds. Tender, caring hands worked their own miracles on her abused body. They’d had no words to aptly describe what they’d discovered on her back. They assumed she’d been mutilated but they were shocked her blood ran yellow. Izzy still felt to the marrow of her bones the kindness of those humans who had not asked a lot of questions, but who instead allowed her to heal. She’d shrugged off their psychiatrists who had looked for mind scars. What she had suffered could only be described as a soul wound—one that, to this day, had not healed. Two hard knobs of flesh still protruded from her back: reminders of her wings. She hadn’t let the plastic surgeon come near them, fleeing the moment her body had mended. Humans didn’t deserve the disparaging angels gave them. They were not all evil and not all had fallen far from H’uluan—the Garden of Eden.
“This is Gareth. He’s welcome among us.” Izzy kept her eyes trained on Nathanael, not daring a look in Gareth’s direction. She’d deal with him later—after the knife was removed from his throat.
With deliberate slowness, Nathanael moved the knife. Casually, he backed off, his bulk anchoring Gareth to the wooden floorboards. Gareth jumped to his feet and by the fierce expression on his face, Izzy knew all Hell was about to be let loose in her bedroom. She didn’t blame Gareth. Nathanael seemed to have that effect. However, as militarily prepared as Gareth might be, an even match to Nathanael, never. Angels were far superior in strength to humans. Izzy had discovered that firsthand when she’d encountered her first demon.
“Explain yourself,” commanded Nathanael.
“Who’s he talking to?” asked Gareth. “Cause I know that boy isn’t speaking to me. I was behaving, Izzy, but tell wacko to leave.”
“Wacko?”
“In case you haven’t figured that out, buddy, that’s you.” Gareth moved closer to Izzy, imposing his muscular body between her and Nathanael.
Izzy fought not to smile. “Enough. That’s enough from the two of you. I want you both to leave.”
“No frigging way am I leaving you alone with this pit bull.”
“What’s a pit bull?” asked Nathanael.
For a second Izzy wondered if Nathanael was having a hard time figuring out human culture. Bittersweet memories of assimilating into mankind’s culture had to be stored away for another time.
“It’s a dog, you moron.” Gareth stepped toward Nathanael and clenched his fists for show.
“This human dares to call me a dog? Isabella, I’ve had enough. Dismiss this man now. We need to talk. I am no longer inclined to play nice.”
Wow. If that was playing nice, she didn’t want to see his mean side. “Nathanael, can you give me a few minutes with Gareth, alone?” Why the Hell am I asking his permission?
“You heard her, buddy. Leave us,” barked Gareth.
“Cut that out, or I’ll make you leave too,” said Izzy. Nathanael moved toward Izzy, and she fought not to move back. Showing fear wouldn’t do.
“Five minutes. Then he leaves and we talk.”
Bold declarations; typical Seraphim. Nodding, Izzy turned her attention back to folding the clothes she’d removed while looking for her favorite hoodie. She was glad now she’d chosen black. The color certainly fit her mood. The minute Nathanael left, she focused on Gareth, catching the slight shake in his hands, hearing his heart do that fast flutter, knowing he fought the good fight because she had asked him. After two years of friendship, him patiently waiting for her, she told him her terms. Get clean, purify his body, and then she’d give him hers. It had sounded simple, even reasonable considering she’d thought she’d never see the heavenly gates again. Certainly she didn’t think for one minute her soul mate would come looking for her. She couldn’t explain to Gareth she loved him like the brother she’d never had. Telling him that would crush him, because she knew he longed for her body and heart.
Those two things were no longer hers. They belonged to Nathanael. He was her other half—according to heavenly law, anyway. She hated him for it.
“Care to explain who the Hell he is?” Gareth plopped down on her bed. It made her uncomfortable and always did. That’s why she’d told Meredith to stop letting him sneak into her sanctuary but today was the first time he’d used a window. Guess she couldn’t fault her friend today.
“He’s an—”
“Don’t you dare tell me he’s an old friend. That’s bullshit and you know it. Who is he? We share everything. No secrets, right?”
Izzy looked away. Her life for the past years, based on lies, held more secrets than she dared ever disclose.
Gareth went for the flesh-to-flesh approach. Before, when he’d touch her, she’d told herself feeling nothing was a normal reaction. She might be a fallen Cherub but she was still an angel, and he a human. Knowing how her body reacted, heated and ached with Nathanael’s nearness, rubbed her wrong. She wanted her body to feel like that when Gareth touched her. It didn’t.
“Izzy, what’s wrong?” His note of compassion and tenderness almost opened the floodgate of emotions she had locked and buried away for eternity.
Shaking out of his light embrace, she laughed. “Nothing. He’s a member of my family.” That most certainly is true…just not how I really mean it.
“Like a cousin or something?” asked Gareth, allowing her to move further away.
“Or something. It’s complicated.” Like on a scale you could not imagine. “He’s visiting for a while but he’ll be gone soon.” I can only pray for that. “Why’d you really come here, Gareth? You know I’m uncomfortable with you in my bedroom.”
Seeing his large, six-foot-four frame silhouetted against her wall from the moonlight sneaking in from the partially opened window, she’d realized he looked a lot like Nathanael. With his dark military-shaved head, defined, muscular arms and prizefighter body, he could pass for Seraphim. The arm of black tattoos that bore two names, Eddie and Frank, set him apart. His ink bore the names of his buddies, killed during a tour of duty in Iraq. They were constant reminders his life, like hers, hadn’t been all rosy.
That realization shook her. Had she been drawn to him because of that? Hoping it wasn’t so, Izzy sat down on the bed, motioning for Gareth to join her.
“Do you want me to sing for you?” She’d do this for him tonight, knowing Nathanael probably had his ear to her door. If he dared intervene, she’d chuck one of her nearby throwing stars at him. That thought brought a fleeting smile to her face.
Gareth grasped her hand. She allowed him the dignity to respond in his quiet fashion. Thumb stroking her thumb, he nodded.
Reaching for the purity of her heavenly voice was an easy task. Leashing the swirl of strange emotions Nathanael had unwound, not so much. Like her fellow Cherubs, she’d been taught how to sing since the moment she could stand. She clasped his hand so they were bound, prayer-like, together and then started. He liked the old songs, so she sang him an ancient Hebrew ballad, watching his body absorb her healing notes. Tension eased from his shoulders, his eyes closed in serenity, and his heartbeat slowed. She loved how her voice affected him so.
“Thank you, Izzy. I’m feeling better.”
“I’m really proud of you, Gareth. You’re doing good. You’re a strong soldier.”
He simply nodded, but she caught the slight well of tears in his eyes. We all have our demons to fight. Izzy was glad hers were ones she had the opportunity to vanquish
on a regular basis in the flesh, and not tormenting her every waking moment like Gareth’s. His demons slept in his mind. The survivor always lived with guilt and that question of why me? No one knew that better than Izzy.
“I needed to come here. I needed you, tonight.”
“I know,” she soothed.
“You understand?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here for you. It’s been a long night, Gareth. It’s time you left. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“You promise?” The plea in his voice told her his fight was hard.
“I promise. Tell Meredith if you have need of me. She’ll understand.” Izzy stood up from the bed and made her way to the door. Gareth followed.
When he leaned down to kiss her good night, Izzy stopped him. “Good night, Gareth.”
He straightened. “Tomorrow, Izzy.”
Izzy closed the door softly behind her and then leaned against the wood to gather composure and strength. She felt like she’d been in a battle for days but that wasn’t the case. The only war waging within Izzy was in her soul. She’d rather deal with demons. The last person she wanted to confront was Nathanael. When a soft knock sounded, she tensed. “Come in.”
Meredith walked in carrying a hot cup of herbal tea. “This is for you.”
“Thank the blessed light. I thought you were Nathanael.”
“No, he left. He said you’ve had a busy night and thought you might need something to soothe your soul. His words exactly. I had…I had forgotten…”
“How formal everything is. How bloody unemotional they sound?”
Meredith handed her the hot mug. “Nathanael didn’t sound unemotional, Izzy. He sounded concerned. While you were talking with Gareth, he asked us some questions. Did you know that in heaven a decade has gone by? None of the heavenly angels know that time on Earth moves differently. Why, after a decade in the heavens, has the Mistress not answered our prayers?”
Izzy closed her eyes wearily. She highly doubted no heavenly angels knew of their plight. Why indeed? Taking a sip of the hot brew, she wondered where Nathanael had gone. “I don’t know, Meredith. I honestly don’t know. But my guess is they’ve forgotten about us.”
“I don’t want to believe that. I won’t believe that.”
Izzy said nothing. Meredith clung to her hope like soap on a rope. Meredith picked up Izzy’s clothes off the floor like a mother would. She always did this when she came into Izzy’s room and just like always, Izzy cringed. She didn’t want to be mothered by anyone. She’d lost her mother to demons and it was always good to recall that was the impetus for her desire for more out of her life. It was also why they were still on Earth.
“Leave the clothes, Meredith. Where did Nathanael go?”
Meredith, as usual, ignored her to gently finish folding Izzy’s clothes. She even neatly tucked Izzy’s boots under the dresser.
“He’s staying at the Seraphim safe house. Oh—he asked me to give you this.”
Meredith held out a small white cloth. Izzy’s hand shook as she took the offering. She was instantly hit with nausea, and if her wings still existed, she’d have them protectively curled around her, enveloping her so that no one, especially her best friend, could see the reaction on her face. Nestled in the center of the white cloth was an onyx-colored stone with a small hole at the top, held onto a plain leather tie. The same necklace she had suspected that had been wound around the Mistress’s neck.
“Tell him I can’t accept.” She choked out the words, wrapping the cloth back up to hand it back to Meredith.
“I’ll take this for you now, but you must tell him you can’t accept. He’s coming tomorrow after our show to speak with you. Looks like your angel’s here to rescue you.”
For the first time, Izzy noted the hurt and scorn filling Meredith’s usually calm voice. Izzy reached for Meredith’s hand, drawing her closer to look into her sad eyes. “Meredith, you can’t begin to imagine that I plan to leave.”
Meredith gave her one of her famous are-you-nuts? looks. “You are Cherub. He is Seraphim. I distinctly heard his words. You’re his heavenly wife. He holds the power to bond you to him, as is the right of a Seraphim.”
Izzy took hold of her friend firmly by the shoulders and let her anger and disappoint reign free. “I did not bear arms in the heavenly war to simply become a vessel to carry forth the next generation. I did not willingly sacrifice my wings for this. I will fight this—like I’ve fought for everything in my and our lives. I won’t leave you. You are all my Cherub sisters and more than that, you are my best friends. Without you, all of you, I am nothing.”
Meredith leaned in, allowing Izzy to hug her. Both in tears, Izzy finally released her friend, who had suffered like her with the exile. They all had suffered—and would continue to—until the Mistress declared they had served their penance. Abandoning them was not an option. She’d rather cut out her heart than sacrifice them to live on Earth alone without her. Killing a demon was a hundred times easier than dealing with the onslaught of emotions she’d experienced today, and once again, Nathanael was at fault.
Why did he have to find us? Find me?
In her heart, Izzy knew the answer. Without her, he couldn’t ascend. What he wanted condemned her. A Seraphim did not account for her wishes. She was Cherub a female brought up to please him in all aspects, to never question his authority and to keep his heavenly house pure and serene. Nothing about her at the moment, including Izzy’s thoughts, was pure. She’d rather sharpen knives than keep his house clean.
Chapter Four
Nathanael didn’t go back to the Seraphim safe house. His heart felt heavy, his soul ached, and his mind had a dozen questions circling over and over again. The intensity of what he’d discovered tonight left him feeling more than dazed. A part of him was questioning all he’d been taught, all he knew. And it was all Isabella’s fault. That, he didn’t like. He walked to the only place he could think of: a nearby synagogue. Saturday night, the beginnings of holy night. Late into the evening, almost midnight, he thought it to be empty…until a door opened and a hand waved him inside.
“Can I help you, son?”
The gruff voice was filled with caring. Nat took the offered invitation, needing to cleanse his emotions. He searched within himself for that steel-honed Seraphim balance he’d been taught and found himself lacking.
“Thank you.” He stepped through the door, feeling the wide space of the synagogue stretch before him. His gaze moved lovingly to the large eight-foot-high wooden heichal, the Torah ark, looking like an exact copy of the one in the Seraphim Prayer house. He blinked twice, wondering if this was a sign.
“You look like you’ve lost your best friend, if you don’t mind my observation,” said the rabbi.
“Something like that,” mumbled Nat.
Dressed in traditional dark robes and wearing what humans called a kippah—a small white head covering—the rabbi looked quite old. His gray beard reached his chest and wrinkles marred his face, making him seem kind and thoughtful. Nat didn’t understand the dress code, but this wasn’t his culture. Seraphim angels most certainly did not cover their heads when praying to the Almighty. Their prayer robes were white, not dark in color, and underneath their robes angels wore nothing. Purity of mind and body to help cleanse the soul.
The rabbi swept him farther inside the wide space. The smell of polished pine lingered in the air, and worn leather along with a hint of incense filled him, bringing him a measure of peace. Large, exposed honey-colored pine columns jutted toward the ceiling. Nat judged the building to be at least two stories high. He liked that it reminded him of his realm. Not entirely sure what he’d expected, he realized he ached for the ritual of home. Seeking the comfort of prayer had become a necessity.
“Do you mind, Rabbi, if I pray?” Nat moved toward the front of a large but thin wooden bench. The sweet smell of incense, stronger at the front, hit him again with the longing for home, while the rough-hued ivory color of the walls insta
ntly soothed. Everything in his realm was white or varying shades of ivory. He found the brilliance of color that splattered thoroughly across Earth oddly disjointed. Did Isabella feel the same?
The rabbi chuckled, and Nat drew up.
“Mind if you pray? You’re joking, right? This is the Almighty’s house, my son. Pray all you want. It’s not every day, or should I say night, that I get a person darkening the door asking to pray. I will take that as a blessing. If you have need to talk, I will listen. But I warn you now—I tend to give advice.” He gave a bold wink of understanding, and Nat grinned in earnest. He smiled for the first time that day.
“Thank you. I am honored by your offer of guidance, but first I must purge my thoughts and seek the clarity of my mission through prayer.”
The rabbi stuffed his hands inside the robe’s dark pockets and chuckled again. “I knew you weren’t from around here. Take all the time you need, my son. I’ve been praying all day to avoid the work in my office, but that is the sloth within me and unless I get through some of my paperwork tonight, tomorrow will be even a longer day. My office is through the door on the left.” With that, the Rabbi left but not before giving a reassuring squeeze to Nat’s shoulder.
Nathanael moved to the front of the heichal, waiting until the rabbi departed before lying flat on the cool marble-veined floor. Extending his arms above his head to show respect, he breathed deeply. Meditation before prayer helped cleanse the mind, and if he sought to cleanse his soul, he’d spend a few minutes putting the events of the past few days behind him. He stayed that way until he felt the path of the light wind its way through him.
