by Renee Pace
He ducked and scrambled out of her way to avoid both her feet and arms, which seemed intent on doing some serious damage to him.
“I said get out!” said Isabella.
Nathanael grasped her arms, halting her attack. Bringing her body flush to his he realized his serious mistake. With her body pressed closed to his he felt every curve. Her head reached his shoulders now that she wasn’t wearing those ugly boots she wore on stage and the floral fruity scent of her soap hit him square in the gut. She was Cherub and having her in his arms reminded him of that. He should treat her with respect and be polite but looking at her angry face, he knew that would not win him any points.
Isabella was sputtering. She was so mad she couldn’t come back with her usual retort. Maybe she should have listened to Meredith’s advice. Too late now. Coming face-to-face with Nathanael, having the feel of him flush against her, she never wanted to experience again. Her gut clenched and that nervous feeling she experienced simply from looking at him, undid her.
She had pushed this Seraphim too far. She’d thought by teasing him he’d leave in disgust. Instead, a geyser of volcanic heavenly power wrapped with determination was reflected in the turbulent grays of his eyes. She’d made him mad and instead of disgust he thought to change her. That, Isabella wasn’t going to let happen. They could talk all day, but she’d never give into what he truly wanted of her.
“You shouldn’t be in here.” She hated the quiver in her voice.
He leaned his head down and for a second she swore he was smelling her wet hair. She attempted to lower her head but that brought her nose closer to his body.
“I shouldn’t,” he mocked. “By the path of light, who should be here?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“I know nothing of the sort, Isabella. I don’t know you and tonight you made it blatantly clear you don’t know me. Did you think your actions and sinful voice would repulse me? Ah, I can see you did. You are my—”
“Don’t say it. I can’t stand that word.”
“Then what shall I call you? Are you telling me you feel nothing for me? I know I certainly feel something, something I’ve never felt before.” He followed his words with action by bringing her even more into his embrace. She knew she could easily get out. All she had to do was knee him in the privates and escape would be within reach but that was a cowardly move she’d use only as a last resort.
His hand reached out to move a wet tendril of her hair off her face. Everything in her grew taut with awareness. Maybe she had pushed him because she wanted what he offered. No, I do not.
He wet his lips, the move drawing her eyes to his mouth. Too masculine to be pretty, his lips were plump and a dark rosy red. Simple attire graced his frame, blue jeans, and black T-shirt. He’d had a dress coat over that earlier but that was probably lying on her floor by now.
“Tell me you feel nothing,” he whispered.
She froze, letting his finger trail down her exposed neck, past her collarbone to slide back up.
“Nothing,” she rasped.
“Liar.” He tsked, but his eyes never once left her flesh. “Not a Cherub quality, but then again I think you, Isabella, take great delight in debunking the Cherub way. Am I correct?”
Sucking in her breath, Izzy glared at him. “Get your hands off me.”
“You refuse my touch, b’iã?”
“No…I mean yes. And I told you not to call me that.”
His other hand snaked around her middle to lay claim to her waist, catching her further off guard. Izzy didn’t want this, but her body prepared to betray her. Her stomach muscles fluttered and her heart accelerated and her Cherub mind immediately recalled all of her teachings. His face moved closer to hers. His breath, minty fresh, blew across her lips, daring her to deny the evidence that they were meant for each other.
“I like to touch you, Isabella, or should I call you Izzy, since we’re becoming familiar?”
He teased her, the storm clouds in his eyes evaporating to reveal something she did not want to acknowledge. Dealing with his anger was easy compared to his passion.
“We are not and will never become familiar,” stated Izzy, not caring what he chose to call her. Now or ever.
“Isabella we will become very familiar. I could press my point now as is my right. Is that why you continue to fight me?” The heat of his words a fraction of a breath away from her lips caused her to curl her toes. She dug her fingers into the palms of her hands to ground her.
“You don’t understand,” she mumbled.
His moved his head to the right and gently he nipped at her exposed neck. “You are the most beautiful Cherub I have ever seen.”
“Just how many have you seen?” she asked, knowing most Cherubs lived a life closeted away from the males.
“Quite a few, but none are like you.”
By all that’s holy, he has that right. Squirming out of his hold, she turned her back to him, hauling the long, wet strands of her hair up off her neck away from his touch. With one hand she grasped a nearby blanket. Boldly, before her courage failed her, she let the bathrobe fall. His hard indrawn gasp told her he saw the blunt mutilated bones protruding from her shoulder blades. She didn’t want to see his eyes. She knew what it would convey. She was marked, scarred—a freak of an angel.
He let her cover up with the blanket, and when she made no move to face him, he took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Her gaze bore into him, confronting him with her anger.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“I gave up being Cherub the minute my wings were clipped from my back.”
He bellowed. It was full of anguish and outrange on her behalf and that slightly amused Izzy. She liked that fury took hold of him, which was only evident by the slight shift of his body.
He grasped her, flung her to the bed, and braced himself on top of her, pinning her to him. Surprised did not begin to describe how Izzy felt. She knew he was so mad that the awareness of their intimate position wasn’t slamming into his brain. For that she was grateful.
“Who dared to mar thee like this?”
She thought it funny he slipped back to scripture when flustered. She always did the opposite. Pleb, more like common English slang, she liked a lot more.
His raw shout touched her heart. Her first thought, he truly did care. The second, his outrage originated because his Cherub, the one he thought perfect was more than flawed—she was mutilated.
A hurt chuckle flew forth. “Why, Nathanael, I do believe you know the angel who did this to me. His name is Raphael. Your father.”
She made a move to knee him in the privates but he anticipated her action and rolled off her and let her go.
“You lie,” he stated, looking confused and hurt, standing at the edge of her bed to look at her.
“To you never. Now leave me.”
He ran an agitated hand through is hair. “This can’t be. You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have barged in. I will leave. We will discuss things later.”
“We have nothing to discuss, Nathanael. And you saw the evidence with your own eyes. If you don’t believe it ask your darling father.”
The holy wave of script that scrolled around her thighs made him almost wish for ignorance. She was anything but Cherub-looking. Worse, he liked the way she looked more than he ever thought possible. Everything about Isabella was inherently different—her attitude, her courage, her mannerisms, and even her body. Nothing about his so-called simple assignment to rescue his Cherub was as it should be.
The door burst opened and a young Cherub ran in, one Nathanael hadn’t seen before. He noticed fear in her eyes and tears marked her cheeks.
Izzy raised her head up and instantly tried to soothe the young Cherub.
“Everything’s okay, Anya. There is nothing to fear here,” said Isabella, giving him a hard push out of the way as she moved off the bed, careful to drape the blanket tightly around her.
/> She immediately went to the distraught Cherub. This Cherub—who couldn’t look him in the eyes, but dutifully kept staring at the ground—made him realize he didn’t know a lot about the other sisters who had been forced into exile.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled,” he said. “To say I was shocked is a heavenly mistake. I—”
Isabella hugged the visibly shaking Cherub she had called Anya. She sliced him a damning look. “No need to explain, Nathanael. I know I’m not perfect.”
“No. That’s not what I meant. No one is perfect, especially me. I was shocked that your exile had been so brutal. I thought that because you are…”
“You thought because I’m Cherub, a mere female, they would take it easy on me. I thought that at first, too. Sadly, as you now know, that wasn’t the case. I bear these scars with pride though because I saved the wings of my fellow Cherubs. We might all be together in this exile, but we have survived and will continue to endure.”
Anya hiccupped on a sob.
“This is Anya, my blood sister. She is sixteen.”
Now Nat gasped. Sixteen—a mere babe—a novice who had been tossed to the wilds of mankind, and Isabella’s sister by birth. The knowledge shocked him. Nat realized he should have prepared more for his so-called rescue mission. Every time he was with Isabella, he felt like he was free-falling to Earth and often felt like he was the one in need of rescuing, rather than the other way around.
“When we were exiled, it took us a while to find each other,” said Isabella in her matter-of-fact voice, while she soothed her sister. She used her healing voice to comfort her sister while her hands lovingly stroked Anya’s back.
Nat moved in slow motion, fearful of causing Anya anymore distress. “Isabella, are you telling me that you all landed in different places?” He rested against Isabella’s bedroom wall. He needed to feel something solid because everything he learned shook the foundation of his beliefs.
She nodded. “Yeah, but we at least all landed in the United States. I found most of my fellow Cherubs within months, but Anya here, took me longer. Left in the hands of mankind, she did not fare well. Oh, don’t mistake me, she’s physically unharmed—but some scars are deeper and more permanent. Shh, it’s okay, Anya. Nathanael needs to know. I have a feeling his stay with us is going to be longer than he anticipated.”
Isabella took the time to tease him with a light smile. This Cherub was a warrior. A brave female. The mother to all her fellow Cherubs, she would and had fought for them. Nat’s knees grew shaky. He had thought to remove her from them when she was their foundation key, keeping them strong, allowing them to prosper, to survive.
What right do I have to take her from them? The question caught him off guard. His fear must have shown in his eyes because Isabella, still soothing Anya with the comfort of her soft humming and gentle hand on her back, glared at him.
Nat ran agitated hands through his bristly hair. “I had no idea. We all assumed you were safe in the comfort of the Cherub safe houses. To think of the struggle you all must have endured and still endure, I can only say with regret that…my ignorance has not helped my cause.”
“Ah, yes, your cause. I believe you stated that when you first arrived. As you see now, that’s impossible. I’m sure you can petition the Mistress to secure you another Cherub. Trust me, I won’t mind. Come, Anya, let us take you back to your sanctuary. This Seraphim is done with us for the night and with any luck, he’ll be gone for good.”
I guess I deserved that. “Anya, what happened to you?”
Anya didn’t answer; he hadn’t expected her to. Her eyes were glued to something on the floor. Her hair was the color of filtered rays of sunlight.
“I found her with foster parents who were anything but nice,” stated Isabella, coldly.
Nat’s eyebrows quirked in question.
“Anya was one of five children, living in a small house. The people used the children to get money from the government here, but they didn’t take care of the children.” Izzy leaned closer to him. “In fact, when she was caught praying or helping the other children she was beaten. When I found her, her body was so full of new and old bruises, that had not my faith stopped me I would have killed the humans. They were not demon filled but I wished with all my soul they had been. They were simply evil humans who wanted money for the drugs they bought. They used the children. I made sure to alert the police once I got my sister out of there.”
Nat moved until he was within reach of the pair who were standing together, cuddled in their own safety. Slowly, he sank to his knees. “By the holiest of holy relics, I am sorry for your pain and the suffering you had to endure, Anya. If I could take that pain away from you, I would be honored to do so. Alas, my mere words of comfort and sympathy for your plight and that of your fellow sisters is all I have within my power to offer. I would slay a hundred thousand demons if I could stop your pain. By the path of light, I ask for your forgiveness.”
“My forgiveness?” Anya’s voice was a mere squeak of a whisper. “Why?”
“We failed you when you needed us most. No Cherub, especially not a novice, should have had to endure your pain. Seraphim protect Cherubs but you were, and all are still, here without protection. That will not be the case anymore.”
Isabella huffed in annoyance. “Oh no you don’t, Seraphim. I protect us.”
He looked up into Isabella’s blue eyes. “You did not protect her.”
Just like I failed my own brother, thought Nathanael.
When the demons had stormed through the Prayer Hall he had taken up arms, but in doing so he’d left his younger brother unprotected. Nathanael liked to think his brother should have been safe, but it was he who had left him alone in their sanctuary garden. When Nathanael had returned, minutes before his father did, to discover his brother’s broken dead body, his life had changed. While his father reassured Nathanael that he’d done the right thing by taking up arms, not a day went by when Nathanael did not question that decision. If he’d stayed, his brother would be alive. He might have made the wrong choice then but he would not make the wrong choice again.
“Low blow, even for you, Sere. I told you I couldn’t find her.”
Nat nodded. “What you did, Isabella, still amazes me, but this is not the way of things. I am here now, and it looks like I’ll be staying awhile. I shall bow my head in prayer and ask the Mistress to send more Seraphim to Earth to help guard you.”
“What?” They spoke in unison. One outraged the other with a note of hope.
“We cannot change our destiny, Isabella.”
“And what destiny do you have, Nathanael?” asked Isabella, drawing the blanket even tighter over her damp skin. “Go back to your realm. We have endured and will continue. This is not your fight.”
“My brave heavenly wife. My job is to protect you, and I now pledge my life essence to protecting all your sisters. What is yours is mine and what is mine is yours.”
“Stop that. Not another word.”
“Izzy, let him. Let him pray to the Mistress. I pray every day to her for help,” said Anya.
“You do?” asked Isabella, looking even more astonished.
“Yeah. Don’t you?”
Isabella unhooked her arms from her younger sister and moved toward the door. “It’s been a long night. You need to sleep, Anya. Please go to your room now. And you, Nathanael—I will talk to you tomorrow.”
She dismissed them, he thought, because she didn’t want to answer Anya’s question. It was a tactic Nathanael’s mother often used when the truth hurt to speak aloud. Nathanael waited until Anya left the room before invading Isabella’s space once again. “You do pray, right?”
Her eyes frosted, reminding him of the crystal-clear ponds near his winter residence in the K’lista Mountains.
“Oh, I pray all right, just not like you think.”
He stood still even though he longed to draw her back into his arms. She wouldn’t appreciate that move, so wisely, Nathanael kept his
distance. He felt honored she’d told him much of what had happened to them but he knew she kept more close to her heart and soul.
“It is good to pray for the Mistress’s forgiveness. It will ease the soul and help your penance.”
She sputtered and then her voice grew as hard as steel, her tone sharp and deadly. “I pray every day that she burns in Hell.”
This time he got in her face. “Only a fool disrespects the Mistress. We have lots to discuss Isabella. That was made clear to me tonight.”
Then without waiting for her to say anything he stormed out of her bedroom, shutting the door with forced calmness. More than anything he longed to slam something.
Nathanael shook his head, trying to clear the tide of emotions. Everything happened too fast. Why hadn’t his father told him? Shock did not begin to describe how he felt. He raced down the steps only to encounter Meredith.
“Are you okay?” asked Meredith.
Yes. No. He shook his head.
“She told you about her wings,” stated Meredith.
“She showed me.”
Meredith gasped. “She’s certainly going for dramatics tonight.”
“I should have waited.”
Meredith blushed. “Things are different here than in the Heavens. We’ve had to adapt. But, Nathanael, without Isabella, we would have been lost.”
“I have gathered that. I need to leave, Meredith, but please let her know I will be back.”
“She’s hoping you will leave for good.”
He scoffed. “I got that. But it will take more than a few scars to send me packing.”
Meredith looked at him. It was the first time she let her eyes hook onto his and Nathanael knew the effort cost her. If they were in their heavenly homes she’d never dare to make eye-to-eye contact. For some reason, her actions pleased him.
“I think, Nathanael, you will be a good influence on her.”
“Good or bad. We have a path to follow, and I will not be swayed.”
