The Forsaken

by Renee Pace

  “Funny man.”

  “Do you think of me as a man?” All teasing aside, he hoped she did.

  “Nathanael…I don’t really know you.”

  Nat nodded. “Will you at least try to get to know me?”

  “I’m not sure that will do any good,” she said.

  “Why not? What have you got to lose?” stated Nathanael, pulling the chair she kept in the corner of her room closer to her bed. Sitting, he continued, “How about this. You can ask me questions, I will answer as best as I can and vice versa. That will help to put us on even footing.”

  She coughed and for a second Nathanael wondered if this conversation should wait until later. She took a sip of the water he handed her. “Sure, why not. What do Seraphim do all day?”

  “Lots,” he said, giving her a wink.

  She didn’t smile. “Oh, no you don’t. I asked first, you get to spill the beans.”

  “Spill the beans? I take it that’s a human expression.”

  Isabella raised an eyebrow at him. He got the distinct impression she was used to giving orders. “You, Sere, are stalling. I’m not falling for it. Tell me and I’ll tell you something secret about us Cherubs.”

  It was the first time she had called him Sere without contempt.

  Now that got his attention. “Okay, what exactly is it that you want to know?”

  “Everything. What do you do all day? How often you get to practice, what type of weapons you get to use, what you’re taught.”

  Nat shifted on the wooden chair and crossed his ankles as he leaned back. “That’s going to take all day.” He groaned.

  Cuddling down further into her pillow, Isabella said, “Well, if you’d like to get up and leave, be my guest.”

  “Okay, I’m going to tell you—but trust me, it’s not interesting. In the morning, as I’m sure you know, we all go to morning prayers. Then we break our fast with a blessing of heavenly food, and it’s either scripture study or weapons training. My preference is always weapons.” He grinned.

  “I bet it is,” she teased.

  “In the afternoon, it’s midfeast, then Absolutions, more studies, and battle strategy—which I also like—and then it’s cleansing before evening prayers and food of thanks. Pretty much that every day. See, you’re grimacing. I told you it wasn’t interesting and you were the one who begged to hear it. So now it’s your turn.”

  “Who brings you the food?” she asked, catching him off guard.

  Nat blinked. He knew what she fished for. “I have always assumed the Cherubs brought the food.”

  “Did you ever see them?”

  He shook his head.

  She sat up straighter in her bed and even fluffed the pillow up to place it higher on the bed rail. “Why’s that, do you think?”

  “Why is what?” asked Nat, his focus drifting to her chest instead of the question.

  “Why is it that the women are never seen?”

  “Why does it matter?” he asked. The second he said it, he knew it mattered.

  Isabella turned on him, her eyes going cold.

  “It matters, Nathanael. It matters. Women are to be seen. We are of worth. In case you haven’t noticed, on Earth, women and men cook for each other. I’ve learned it’s a sign of deep respect in this culture. Yet, in the heavenly realm, we Cherub, who lovingly slave to cook the Seraphim meals do not get so much as a thank-you.”

  Nathanael bowed his head for a moment before looking at her. “You are correct. It does matter. I never gave it thought, but since I’ve been here in this realm I’ve become painfully aware of many things that are not so perfect in ours.”

  “Perfect? Trust me, heaven is far from that,” she scoffed.

  “So tell me what is it Cherubs do all day.”

  “You mean besides wait on Seraphim?”

  Nat liked that she was back to teasing him. This, a Seraphim could get to like.

  “Isabella, the only Cherub I have ever met before coming here is my mother. And my mother is a blessing of Cherub virtue. She would be honored to have you as a daughter.”

  Isabella tensed and fiddled with a loose string on her blanket. Nat played like he didn’t notice.

  “Nathanael, I am the Forsaken One. Your mother would never accept me.”

  “If I accept you, she will be honored—and in case you’re wondering, I more than accept you. But you, my Cherub, are now the one stalling. What do Cherubs do all day?”

  Isabella took a few seconds to look at him and then she blessed him with one of those sunshine smiles. “I know you’re only interested in the Cherub secret, so why don’t I tell you that?”

  A loud knock on the door interrupted them. Nat got up from the hard chair, forcing Isabella to stay put. “Don’t even think of getting up,” he warned, marching to open the door.

  Nathanael opened the door a little.

  “Ahh, sorry, but have either of you seen Shea?” Mike sounded alarmed.

  “Mike, is that you?”

  That damned human who Isabella considered friend placed a foot inside the door. Nat was very tempted to shut the door in his face.

  “Yes, it is. Sorry about this, Izzy, but I’m getting worried. I’ve searched everywhere and…”

  “Did you ask Meredith?” asked Isabella, attempting to get out of the bed.

  Nat stopped her with a look, his gaze skirting down to the door and Mike’s foot. Isabella mouthed no at him. He winked, feeling mischievous.

  “Of course, Meredith told me not to worry. That was five hours ago.”

  There was no stopping Isabella from getting up this time. She juggled the duvet around her body and made her way over to them. Mike stood at the door. Isabella did not invite the human inside her sanctuary. That pleased Nat.

  “Five hours ago? Why did no one come and get me?”

  Mike looked at the floor. “Meredith told me I was not to disturb you under any circumstances.”

  “Sorry about that, Mike. I was sick. But, trust me I’m better.”

  “No she’s not,” said Nathanael.

  “Yes, I am. I’ll be down in five minutes.”

  “Oh no, you will not.” Nathanael didn’t care if he sounded commanding. He was. “Get back in bed, Isabella.” He turned back to Mike. “If you require assistance looking for Shea, I am honored to be at your side.”

  Mike gave Nathanael a look like he doubted he’d be helpful. Nat hoped the guy would leave, but his gut told him he was truly worried for the Cherub.

  “Fine. I’ll be downstairs. Five minutes,” said Mike.

  This time it was Nathanael not liking Mike’s commanding tone. Nat closed the door, crossed the room, and got right in Isabella’s face. “You are in no condition to leave this room. You almost died last night.”

  “But I didn’t. I’m fine.”

  “Prove it,” said Nat, he ground the words out through clenched teeth. “If you can strike me once, you will have proven your point. If not, you will follow my instructions to the letter. Am I clear?”

  Isabella nodded, the blues of her eyes turning dark teal. Her anger at being bossed about showed loud and clear. Nat watched her closely. He knew she’d attempt to strike when he least expected it. Discarding the duvet, she stood in her shift. He’d have to be a blind man not to notice her figure through the thin material, but he highly suspected she had done that on purpose. Battle ready, he braced for impact, watching her like a heavenly hawk. Her right foot sneaked out at the same time as her left arm. Nat grasped both moving appendages and flipped her over so that she was belly down on the bed.

  “You are not in fighting form, Isabella. I will go with Mike to find Shea. You, as ordered, will stay in this bed, rest, eat, and sleep. Do you understand your orders?” Then just to annoy her, he moved her corn silk of hair off her neck to nibble on her exposed flesh. She gasped, and goose bumps clamored along her skin. She also cursed at him and hissed like she was in pain.

  “I am going to release you, Isabella, but first promise me on your C
herub holy heart that you will obey me.”

  Nat knew she cursed more into the mattress. He watched in eerie fascination as a new word got inked along her left thigh. He knew it burned, because he could smell her burning flesh. “Stop swearing and pledge.”

  “Fine, I thee pledge on my Cherub holy heart I will obey.”

  Nat slowly moved off her, allowing her the dignity to fix her crumpled up shift. She ignored her burning flesh. It was a reminder she’d born lots of pain in the last few years.

  He moved to the door, and she spoke. “When you find Shea, come to me right away and bring her.”

  He nodded. “I will find her. Mike is a good human and we will not rest until she is safe.”

  “Thank you, Nathanael.”

  “Behave,” he said, almost out the door.

  “By the way…I never did get to tell you that Cherub secret.”

  He turned to look at her, noticing the shift traveled preciously up to her thighs and she toyed with her hair. The move so out of character for Isabella that he felt spellbound. “And that is?”

  “Did you know Cherubs are taught how to please a Seraphim in all ways?”

  That Nat knew. He swallowed and gave a slow nod.

  She swung a leg over the side of the bed. “We are also taught how to please ourselves in all ways. When you are gone, I will use my time wisely.”

  She didn’t look back at him as she padded to her private bath. His mind digested what she’d disclosed. “By the path of the holy light,” he said, knowing she’d disclosed that tidbit of information to teasingly annoy him. She didn’t like being ordered about and her little words of wisdom, her sexy secret, haunted him.

  Walking down the stairs, Nat wondered who was getting punished. It certainly felt like he was. Between her flowery scent and that damn secret she’d told him, he hoped he got to burn off some energy soon. He welcomed a good, hard fight for a change.

  Chapter Ten

  I should not have left alone. The warning to herself left her cold. Shea clutched the dark cloak to her shivering form, hating that it had rained yet again. I should have told someone where I was going, or at least left a note. It was too late to be angry at her own stupidity. However, telling a sister she attended a choral choir for the Holy Madonna Church far from their sanctuary would be met with condemnation. Shea quickened her pace, telling her overactive imagination to settle. She’d lived through worse. It was past dusk, and long dark shadows of the night stretched like the occasional tall buildings as she scurried down Huntington Avenue onto a smaller street. If Izzy knew she dared step foot inside a church, a Roman Catholic Church at that, Shea didn’t know what she’d say. Nor did she plan to find out. I need to sing. I need to hear the voices of others, always. It soothes my soul. She’d recited that to herself a dozen times but still lacked the courage to tell any of her sisters.

  Shea wished she’d grabbed a hat. The back of her head was drenched, causing her to hunch her shoulders against the shivers. Traveling through the two smaller streets allowed her to cut off almost four long blocks. A shortcut, which forced her to slink along back alleys, saved more than an hour of walking. The essence of time ticked away at her. She didn’t like the alleys but had to get home before her presence would be missed. Questions about where she had gone were to be avoided. Lying to her sisters was something she couldn’t do. None of them could. Omission, on the other hand, was a long-ago-learned tactic.

  A dark shape rose from the building. Shea’s heart instinctively recognized the demon morphing into a teen before her eyes. His vision had haunted and soothed her since her exile to Earth. She gasped when he finished morphing into a beautiful dark angel.

  Only his two red glowing eyes, which looked eerily like licking flames, told her his true heritage. Shea longed to run, but a part of her also wanted answers. Why had he appeared in her dreams?

  He moved silently toward her. Her legs froze in place but somehow she kept standing; that in itself was miraculous. Trembling with terror, she kept her eyes trained on him as he stalked closer. Two beautiful black wings arched him off the ground so that he hovered over the asphalt. His face was far too perfect to belong to a demon. The realization a dark angel—a demon-spawned angel—stood assessing her caused her life essence to boil. A darker thought stole through her. She had dreamt of this angel. He’d been the one to whisper words of comfort in her mind when she’d first landed on Earth.

  “Are you Lucifer?”

  A quirk of a smile flirted across his lips and this close to her she could easily see he had a dimple on his right cheek. Eyes, as dark as coal, flickered over her. Then he laughed.

  “I am the son of Lucifer, my pretty white angel. And it has taken me a long time to find you. Why are you on Earth?”

  Find her? He, the son of Lucifer, had hunted for her? His admission and question caught Shea off guard. She bit her lip. “Why are you on Earth?” No way did Shea plan to tell him why she and her sisters were truly in the Earth realm.

  He sauntered forward, his feet clad in designer Italian shoes as he hovered above the ground. His steps were full of feral grace, and he was a thing of dark beauty. He was a dead ringer for a model. His wings, as dark as his eyes, actually matched him perfectly. Shea had never seen dark wings on an angel. She quickly reminded herself he was a demon.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? I can see you don’t remember me. But I am delighted that the rumors are true. Such delight.” He smiled and his eyes held a hint of kindness that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  His voice stole through Shea’s mind and body. Vividly, she recalled that voice: how he’d helped her, offering words of wisdom when she’d felt such Earthly despair. He had comforted her, but why? Shea digested what he said, wisely keeping her mouth shut.

  “Now, the question is, what to do now that I have you?” He moved two steps closer to her. Shea knew he paused on purpose, playing her. Shea’s instincts finally kicked in. She scurried around him, only to collide with his laughing form.

  He tsked. “Why are you running from me when I’ve offered you nothing but comfort?”

  “Let me go.” Spare me.

  “Well, I would…but I can’t. You see…” He reached out to swipe a wet tendril of her hair off her cold face. Ice formed inside Shea’s veins. Inside, she screamed. He probably knew it, but didn’t care.

  “There is an ancient rumor that the taking of a Cherub soul willingly given will unleash a demon from my father’s realm. Since I would loathe to hurt any of my demons, I shall be the one to see the validation of this tale. After all, you are mine, as well you know it.”

  “Why would I give you my soul?” asked Shea, finding it odd she was having this conversation with a demon.

  He hauled her to his frame. “Because I will give you what you most desire.”

  Shea dared for a minute to think he spoke nonsense.

  “I have comforted you for years when you have felt nothing but loneliness. Give me what I desire and I will save your twin.”

  Shea gasped. “You lie.”

  “Like you, my sweet angel, I can’t. Trust me, I have often wished to speak a falsehood but alas, we are not that different.”

  When the words sank into Shea’s mind, she digested his meaning again.

  “I can’t trust you.”

  He chuckled. “Yes you can and you already do, or else you’d have started screaming from the first moment you saw me. Plus, have I said anything wrong to you in your dreams?”

  “I too know the art of omission, demon,” said Shea with more spunk than she felt. Her eyes darted around the alley and like a slither of hope, she spied the broken bottle, knowing it was her only weapon and hope for salvation.

  “Seriously, you’re thinking of attacking me when I have offered a way to save what you most desire?”

  She sighed. He was right. “If I grant you my soul, what guarantee do I have you will do as you say?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I will give
you a blood oath.”

  Shea had heard of this before and knew the exchange of blood bound him to his word. “I accept.”

  “To be clear, my angel, do you understand what I’m asking? You must willingly give me your soul.”

  “Only after we take the blood oath.”

  He smiled and the effect was totally disarming.

  “I like an angel who can bargain. Yes, the oath first and then your gift.”

  Shea couldn’t speak, so she simply nodded.

  A small knife appeared in his hand and then he quickly cut his palm, handing her the knife by the hilt.

  It’s now or never. Shea cut her flesh. He pulled her hand into his. The minute their blood joined she closed her eyes, but the minute he spoke scripture her eyes flew open. He smiled down at her when he’d finished speaking.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Shea returned his words. A sharp tingle ran up her arm.

  “It’s done,” he said.

  “I didn’t know a demon knew scripture.”

  “There’s lot we don’t know of each other. Now, quit stalling.”

  Shea watched the cut on her palm heal. That had never happened before.

  “Oh, that’s my blood.”

  “Are you telling me all demons can do that?”

  He chuckled. “Nope. Only me. Let’s just call it a gift from my father.”

  The mention of his father drew her up sharp.

  He tilted her chin up with his finger. “Don’t be afraid—this won’t hurt.”

  “Wha—”

  He moved to claim her lips. He wasn’t demanding, rather the opposite. Shea knew he waited for her to accept what he wanted and after the blood oath she didn’t hesitate. She’d do anything to save her twin. After all the years of sacrificing in silence this demon offered her hope. She’d never mentioned her twin to her sisters. Why should she? Her mother died giving birth to her sister, securing silence from the midwife attending her. But their twin telepathic link was so strong that even when others thought her mad for questioning the possibility of another sister, she knew in her heart and soul the truth. When finally she’d held a blade to the midwife’s throat the truth had been spoken. And since that day she’d hunted for her sister to no avail. If this demon could bequeath her with her sister she’d give him what she wanted.