by Renee Pace
“If you don’t learn to bend, she will be like your sword—full of steel and a weapon you will grow tired of carrying.”
Nathanael laughed for the first time that night. “You, Meredith are full of surprises but in this I believe you are correct. I will heed more of your insight. Will you help me?”
Meredith cast her eyes up the stairs. For a full minute she didn’t speak. “I will help you but you must go easy on her. Of all of us that have fallen, she has more burdens than most.”
“Thank you. You have eased my heart a bit but the time grows late and I need to pray.”
Meredith bowed her head. “I shall pray for you both.”
Nathanael nodded and then opened the door to the brownstone, leaving them in peace when he felt anything but.
Chapter Six
Three quick raps on the common room door informed Meredith that it was Mike who wanted into their sanctuary. He’d taken to the fast knocks to let the others know it was him. Meredith smiled, feeling the tension drain from her. For a human, she liked Mike. He established his own code of working with them after discovering they all locked their doors at all hours of the day and usually didn’t answer.
“Meredith, is everything all right?” Mike asked when she opened the door.
Meredith was glad now she’d immediately changed her on-stage costume to her usual old-fashioned chaste look. The minute they all completed their performances, they always shimmed out of the formfitting clothing to their more casual wear. Tonight, a long white gown flowed down to her bare feet.
“This isn’t a good time, Mike.”
When a roar broke out from the direction of Isabella’s room, Meredith knew Isabella was having a fit. She also knew from experience it was best to let her friend rant away on her own. Tomorrow, Meredith suspected her room would need a thorough cleaning. Moving quicker than Mike could anticipate, she took hold of his arm to stop him from bolting upstairs. She could tell by his startled eyes that he found her strength a shocker. Meredith wondered if he’d asked questions, but knew in all likelihood he wouldn’t. Isabella had assured them all that Mike would not pry into their past lives and over the years, he’d kept that promise. For a second, Meredith wondered what it would take to make him see them for who they truly were. The range of emotions and vivid images that flashed in Meredith’s mind just from touching Mike caused her to take a step back. She had to let go of him or she’d end up disgracing herself with a dead faint.
Meredith gave a slight gasp. Mike helped her to the sofa. “Are you okay?”
Not now. The better question is, are you? Meredith gave a small nod and wisely kept her mouth shut.
Mike ran into the nearby kitchen. She heard the tap and was ever grateful for the glass of cold water he brought to her.
“Is everything all right?” asked Mike.
Meredith knew he wasn’t asking about what was going on. For the past few years they’d lived in this house but away from his radar. Nathanael had changed all that. “This doesn’t concern you. All will be as it should. It would be best for you to leave, Mike.”
“Cut that crap, Meredith.”
“Maybe he should stay, sister,” said Shea.
Meredith watched Mike turn his head toward the open door. She didn’t miss the reassuring wink he aimed at Shea. Shea, with her golden-hued skin, blushed a beautiful shade of cinnamon. Of all the sisters, Shea was the one Meredith understood the least. She was honest and forthcoming, while equally shy, but Meredith always felt like she kept a secret close to her heart.
Taking another sip of water, she forced her mind from Shea to the situation at hand. Mike moved back into the kitchen and returned with two glasses. He handed one to Shea, who Meredith now realized was carrying her harp. Of all the sisters, it was Shea who was the virtuoso of a musician. She had the ability to play any instrument she picked up. The day she’d confessed to Mike how she longed to feel the hard steel strings of a harp, her eyes had filled with sadness, making Meredith recall that none of them were finding adaptation to Earth easy.
Meredith knew it had been Mike who had bought her the harp Shea carried lovingly in her arms. Shea had cried tears of joy when she’d found the harp at her door. She carefully took the spot next to Mike, ensuring her white robe covered all of her flesh. Meredith almost gave into a laugh. Shea and the rest of them had showed enough flesh on stage tonight. While Mike had made it clear he didn’t like how they dressed on stage, he kept quiet after Isabella told him to.
Meredith observed the little conversation taking place in the common room. Whenever Shea came near Mike, he got tongue-tied. Charming, but over the coming years Meredith had started to feel sorry for him.
Finishing her glass, Meredith rose. Mike immediately stood up.
“I have to go,” he said, making his way to the door before Meredith.
“Thank you,” said Shea and Meredith in unison, causing both to smile.
Meredith watched Mike leave, recalling all she’d learned from touching him. Mike had witnessed his sister’s murder. But it wasn’t an ordinary killing. It had been a demon who had taken his sister’s life and Meredith wondered if Izzy knew, and if that was why she’d taken his offer of shelter for them all.
“Tell Izzy we can review the account she wanted to go over tomorrow,” said Mike.
“I will,” said Meredith, making a move toward the kitchen, but not before casting a look at Shea.
“Is everything okay, Shea?”
“Oh, yes,” said Shea, but there was a sadness in her eyes Meredith wanted to question.
“Would you like some tea?”
Shea rose from the sofa. “That would be lovely. Let me help you.”
Meredith nodded. “Dare we make some for Izzy?”
Shea didn’t laugh and that’s what Meredith had been going for.
“No. I’m sure she would not appreciate it.”
“She’s going through a rough time.”
“Aren’t we all,” said Shea, cutting in front of Meredith to step into the kitchen. Meredith didn’t say anything more. Whatever demons Shea was fighting, she wasn’t in the mood to share.
A loud knock on the front door caused Meredith to stare at Shea.
“Do you think Mike forgot something?” asked Shea.
“No, I think it’s another visitor,” said Meredith, leaving the kitchen to go back to the common room.
At the door, Meredith paused. “Who is it?”
“Gareth,” said the booming voice on the other side of the solid door.
Meredith’s heart did a little flutter and she tried hard to ignore it. “It’s late, Gareth. Please come back in the morning.” Out of the corner of her eye she watched Shea peek around from the kitchen.
“Meredith, let me in.”
Mouthing “It’s okay” to Shea, Meredith unlocked the door and let Gareth slip inside. He looked like he’d been to Hell and the urge to comfort him soothed her soul. She was Cherub and that’s what she did best.
Gareth bounced on the balls of his feet, his fists clenching and his eyes shifting uneasily to the side to where Shea stood, half in the shadow. He quickly composed himself, straightening his wide shoulders and moving into his at-ease, casual military stance. It was a move Meredith had grown accustomed to seeing when he tried to find his balance and fight the need for the liquid poison that helped ease his misery.
“Izzy told me to talk with you if any of you gave me trouble about seeing her,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
“Shea, why don’t you take your tea in your room? Gareth would you like a hot drink?” said Meredith, ushering Gareth to the sofa with a hand gesture.
Gareth nodded and sunk into the sofa. Meredith watched Shea leave and then dashed into the kitchen to return with a tray of hot tea for herself and hot chocolate for Gareth. Ever since his war duty he hated tea. Hot chocolate appeased his sweet tooth.
“Thank you,” said Gareth, accepting the hot chocolate with grace for a man with large hands. Hand that s
he knew he’d used to kill. He never talked to her about what he’d endured but she, like Izzy, had come into enough physical contact with Gareth to read his psyche.
Meredith took a sip of her tea before speaking. “Gareth, Izzy can’t see you tonight but…but I would like to speak with you.”
Gareth’s nervous energy flowed like a swirl of tropical colors around him. Meredith closed her eyes for comfort, feeling his fight. Of all the men who had attempted to breech their sanctuary with charm, money, and muscle, it had been an ex-thief, an ex-military man, who had chiseled down Izzy’s defenses. Meredith knew why. Gareth looked Seraphim. He, more than the rest, with his military swagger and muscular physique had made her friend’s heart beat. Meredith knew it had been a faint beat and that Gareth lusted after Isabella, but she didn’t have the heart to turn him away when obviously he needed soothing.
Meredith knew all about Gareth’s drinking and the promise he’d given Izzy. She watched him take a sip of the sweet drink. He sighed and that pleased her. “Gareth, Izzy is unable to see you tonight. Let me be the one to ease your suffering.” She’d said the words low, using the power of her Cherub voice for once.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His eyes widened and his voice filled with anger and hurt.
He reached out to take hold of Meredith’s hand. The scent of him, slightly sweaty, streamed into Meredith. A lot taller than her, he loomed over her even as he sat on the sofa, demanding an answer. Feeling rattled, Meredith did the only thing she could think of.
She reached out, brought her hand to his heart, and fed him the love she felt for him, allowing him to see her truly. Her wings unfurled, the feathers arching high toward the heavens as they breathed in the stillness of the night.
He jumped up from the sofa, nearly stumbling as he scrambled away like her touch burned. His rejection, a reminder she wasn’t as holy or deserving as Isabella, almost brought tears to her eyes.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” Gareth’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in disbelief. “And what are those?”
Reaching for calm, Meredith instantly made her wings invisible. “Nothing. Trick of the light,” she mumbled, attempting to remain on the cool leather sofa.
Gareth grabbed her arm, pulling her off the sofa. “Bullshit, Meredith. I want you to tell me exactly what’s going on here. I know what I just saw and the only other time I’ve seen wings like that I thought I was fucking dying. So don’t think you can feed me a line. I know what I saw, so explain to me what’s going on.”
Chapter Seven
Rain poured down in gray sheets, soaking him to the bone. Fitting. Nat shivered and hiked his jacket collar more around his neck. Fat droplets of rain still slid down his back, causing him to quicken his pace. For two days, he’d avoided Isabella and her sisters. Time was a necessity he needed. Isabella’s true feelings about the Mistress distressed him. A Cherub born, how could she so easily dismiss the mother of all Cherubs? A dark voice answered: the Mistress had dismissed her and left her and her sisters to fend for themselves in the wild of mankind. What did you expect? Nat’s devotion to his faith told him Isabella had to forgive herself before she could learn to love the path of light once again. She blamed herself for her fellow Cherubs’ exile when their own notions of free will had sealed the deal.
For a moment, he tried to comprehend why they had done it. Taking up arms in the heavenly war for a female was unheard of and most certainly never a Cherub destiny. Cherubs were lovers. They did not wield steel to slay the demons that pounded on the heavenly gates and they most certainly did not charge into the frantic fray of battle.
Izzy and her sisters had.
The notion did not sit well with him because Nathanael knew firsthand the war they had fought had been brutal and bloody. His own younger brother had been killed in the last demon siege and the notion of Isabella fighting for her life like that boiled Nat’s blood.
Nathanael had been young, but when factions had threatened his Seraphim royal house he’d taken up arms, as expected. And of course Lucifer had sent his demons to attempt to open the heavenly gates, which meant many angels within the royal houses started to think the war between the houses had been a diversion of sorts. As fast as the faction war had started, once the demons had been purged, it had ended.
He worried Isabella’s sense of free will and devotion to independence might have caused her to stray too far from the path of light for her to recognize the peril of her journey.
Nathanael marched through the recreational center and made eye contact with the owner and manager—the same male he’d barreled into when exiting Isabella’s apartment. In his confused and angry state, Nat had wrapped his hands around the man’s throat and lifted him off the ground without thought to his actions. It had been Isabella who had laid a quiet, restraining hand on his arm. Her voice, a temperate windstorm, rushed with words like, he’s just a friend, my business partner, nothing more. It had been the “nothing more” part that had saved the big man’s life.
Tonight the man intercepted Nat.
“She’s not here.” He folded his arms across his chest, his stance instantly warrior ready.
Nat grinned at the man. “Where is she?”
“Don’t know. After you left, she left too. Meredith told me not to worry…”
Nat’s eyes narrowed. “But you do?” He looked at the human, understanding more of how the big guy felt. “Where is Meredith?”
“In the…” the man coughed, “ah, in the prayer room, odd I know, but—”
“Thank you,” Nat interrupted, giving a slight nod. “About the other night.”
The guy moved closer. “Look, kid, between you and me, let’s forget it. But next time you lay a hand on me, I will knock you out without a thought.”
Nat chuckled and embraced the man, clasping him wrist to wrist like a warrior, further startling the guy. “We fight the same fight, but you can’t defeat me. I’m not saying that to brag, but it’s the truth. I have gathered that you have watched over them, and I am indebted to you. I pledge by the purity of my soul if ever you have need of me I will bend to your will.”
Nat bowed his head and then unclasped the man’s wrists.
The man gave a curt nod and walked away mumbling. “Freaking odd, the lot of you.”
The man, who looked to be in his early twenties, walked his own path of righteousness. That tidbit of information Nat had gleamed while tightening his hands around the man’s throat a couple nights ago. Seeing the worst, Nat prayed that someday the man would learn to open his heart to the path of light.
Nat straightened, pushed back his shoulders, and marched behind the stage and out the back door to the brownstone. He knocked once on the door, not liking having to wait for one of the Cherub’s to invite him inside, while also understanding their need for security. What he really wanted to do was race up the stairwell and find Isabella. Part of him feared messing things up. Dealing with girls unnerved him on all levels. He would rather be leading a heavenly army than strolling into a den of Cherubs, all of whom condemned his actions. I don’t blame them. I’ve botched up things since the moment I landed, but tonight…that’s all going to change.
Within a minute, the door was opened. He didn’t recognize the Cherub or waste time with niceties. Racing past the startled Cherub he made it to the first landing. At the middle door on the second floor, he removed his shoes and socks and this time, didn’t bother knocking. Opening the door, the sight of five Cherubs in heavenly prayer, felt like a sweet breath of fresh air on his aching soul. At least they have not given up the light or forsaken the Mistress.
Taking a spot at the back, he didn’t dare interrupt the blessed choral chants. Trance-like, the sister’s voices worked in unison. The sweet burning scent of jasmine incense enveloped him. The room, barren except for the large wooden bowl of water, soothed him with its simplicity—a stark contrast to the Seraphim safe house, filled with Earth-born Seraphim who collected every type of electronic gad
get man invented. Nat didn’t feel at ease in the safe house, but here, amongst the no-nonsense sisters, felt more like home.
He let the purity of their chant brush through his mind and it felt like a hundred wings softly beating against his skin. Their choreographed chant was as old as time. Nat felt time suspend as he gave into the bliss of prayer. He let their sacred chant, their heavenly voices heal his soul. Only when the light touch of a female hand tapped his shoulder did he awaken from the religious thrum he’d fallen into.
“She’s not here.” Meredith’s voice reached into his mind, forcing him into total-alert mode.
“Where is she?”
Meredith looked at the wooden floor, not wanting to meet his gaze. He suspected she did this more to evade him than to follow with her upbringing.
Nat slowly pushed his way from knees to standing. He’d learned to be cautious in his movements around the Cherubs. “Where is she?” he repeated, hating the nervous thread winding its way through his heart. Meredith’s hesitation annoyed him.
“Slaying demons, I think.”
“What?” Nat sounded incredulous, even to his own ears.
“She’s done this before when she needs to…to vent.”
Nat ran a frustrated hand over his head, feeling the short, spiky hairs. “And how exactly does she find these demons?” His gut twisted when Meredith raised her eyes to his. They were filled with tears.
“She cuts her body and her holy life essence acts like a beacon, drawing them to her.”
Her words sliced Nathanael like he’d been cut by the Kita. What had happened to him in the alley had been what drew the demons to him. He’d cut himself. His life essence, the purity of his own golden liquid, had been what caused the demons to come after him. Somehow, Isabella had found him.
“I will find her.” His strained voice filled with determination.
“And then what?” Meredith’s voice was a mere rasp of a whisper.
As a Cherub, she would have been taught not to question Seraphim. It pleased Nat to know she had the courage to ask and that she cared so much for Isabella. “Then I will punish her for leaving you all to worry about her.”
