The Forsaken

by Renee Pace

  “Do not think to ever lie to me again, Shea. I do not like it. You are mine. I have claimed you. Your honor has been saved. Do not ever attempt to take your life again. Trust me, I will hunt you down in my father’s realm and you will not like that. Trust me?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Trust you? I don’t even know your name. And I can’t trust a—”

  “Demon,” he added, looking mighty pleased with himself.

  “Yes, I can’t trust the demon who stole my soul.”

  “Is that what I did? I took something from you that you did not willingly give? Keep telling that lie to yourself but you have been warned. Do not lie to me again.”

  Shea sputtered. “I…”

  A loud knock startled them both. True fear and alarm filtered through her as she attempted to push him off.

  “You have to leave,” she panted.

  He shook his head. “I am not leaving you until you admit the truth of what happened between us. You should feel no shame.”

  Hissing, she continued to push at his bulk. “I cannot tell them I willingly allowed my soul to be taken by you. You’re nuts.”

  He cut her a smile. “That’s exactly what I said to your Mistress when she sought me. See, we are more alike than you thought.” He eased off her, but his hands continued to caress her hair.

  “Shea, can I come in?”

  Isabella’s voice felt like cold water on Shea. Of all the sisters she most did not want to see, it was Isabella.

  “Should I tell her to leave?” teased the demon.

  “Stop touching me. I can’t think,” she whispered, pushing him off her.

  He gave a satisfied chuckle.

  “Shea, is there someone in there with you?” asked Isabella.

  “You can tell her. She knows about me,” admitted the demon.

  Shea wildly shook her head. She hated having to refer to him as a demon. “What’s your name?”

  “If you willingly agree to be my mate, I will tell you my true name. And, Shea, I should warn you that when we joined I learned all about you. I will look after you and your own. But I do not tell you my name lightly. I might be free of my father’s realm but I am still demon. Knowing my name holds power. This I grant to thee, my b’iã.”

  Shea sucked in her breath. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I will tell you my true name. The rest call me Ash, but for you, only the truth. I know the secret you prayed and sung to every day before you fell to Earth and I will save her.”

  “You know nothing about me.”

  He glared at her. “I know you are twin born and that you pray for the safety of your sister. Cherubs cannot share a soul, but you do. I know you suffered like me in childhood to protect her. I will protect her.”

  “The only thing you will do is bring her to me.”

  Isabella knocked louder. “I’m giving you two minutes, Shea, and then I’m coming in. We have something serious to talk about.”

  Nothing can be as serious as this, thought Shea, looking desperately for a way to get him to leave without calling attention to Isabella.

  He lowered his eyes, his pupils turning from red to dark brown. “Trust is earned.”

  Shea stilled when he leaned over her. His mouth dropped to her ear and then the ancient scripture of his words—his name—trailed into her mind and body. It was the most beautiful, powerful word she’d ever absorbed. He backed off, nodded at her, and then, with one look of longing, snapped his fingers. He vanished before her eyes, startling her. If ever she had to recall he was demon-born that was proof positive. No angel had power like that.

  With shaky legs, Shea stood, moved to the door and opened it.

  Izzy’s gaze darted around the bedroom. “Who were you speaking with?”

  “No one,” mumbled Shea moving back to the safety of her bed. Only the demon who has claimed me as his heavenly demon wife. Choking on that thought, she closed her eyes, her mind savoring the feel of his true name as it licked at her consciousness. He’d told her there was power in knowing his true name.

  She pondered what to do with it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nat avoided the Seraphim safe house. He couldn’t pray or concentrate in the immaculate house filled with a gazillion electronic gadgets. His feet lead him to the place where his soul sought relief and without fully being aware of it he once again stood on the steps of the synagogue. Pushing slightly on the door, the openness of the synagogue continued to surprise him. He stepped through the wide oak doors to be greeted by the rabbi.

  “Ah, it is good to see you again, my son. I would ask how goes your problem with your fiancée, but by the look on your face, things are not great. Am I correct?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “They usually are,” answered the rabbi, ushering Nat inside with a smile and warm pat on the back.

  Small talk had never been Nat’s strong suit, so he launched into what he needed.

  “You are asking for me to lock you in a room with no food or water and not to worry.” The rabbi paused. Nat knew he wasn’t done. “You test me. This is some joke, right?”

  Nathanael stood his ground and shook his head. “Sadly, no. I need privacy. Uninterrupted. If after seven days I do not emerge, I grant you permission to enter.”

  “Enter and find what? You dead on my floor? That’s just what I need to deal with,” taunted the rabbi, looking clearly worried.

  Nat wasn’t immune to serving penance, having recently completed a week of diligence. His sore back a reminder of the daunting task he set upon. What choice do I have? “Fear naught, I have suffered far longer. A week for me is nothing.”

  The rabbi struggled to find the proper words but none came.

  “There you go with that funny talk again,” said the rabbi, attempting to lighten the mood. Nathanael could tell when the rabbi looked at him he saw something more than his human facade. “My son, your faith is strong. Let it guide you. Come, I will show you to a special room. It is not much, but you will have all the privacy you seek. But hear me, I will come charging in like a bull if I have not heard from you on the seventh day, make no mistake.”

  Nat chuckled. This human does the good of mankind. Maybe they are not all that bad. Nat was reminded how transformed his Seraphim thinking had become in such a short span of time on Earth. No wonder Isabella acts the way she does. Assimilating means change, and in our heavenly realm, most change equates a negative reaction.

  “Here, take this key. The door sticks so you might have to give it a good kick. I’m not walking down those steps. Body’s not as young as yours. Now, can I get you anything?”

  “No. Thank you. I am honored by your kindness.” Nat bowed, feeling as if he faced a Seraphim elder.

  The rabbi touched his shoulder. “I am not sure where you come from, and for now, think it best I do not know. I trust you. There is something pure in you and I shall take comfort in that. I shall leave you now. Lock the door behind you.” He winked. “I have a spare key.”

  With that, the rabbi squeezed his shoulder, turned, and left. He made his way down the sharp-angled steps. Nat used the key and then proceeded to kick the door open. Inside he made sure to lock himself in. He eyed the cold concrete floor and grimaced. Nat removed the purple spiritual candle Meredith had handed to him on his way out of Isabella’s building from his jacket pocket. He blew on the candle. His angel breath instantly caused it to flame. After placing the candle in the middle of the floor, he disrobed, setting his mind to his task. Shivering instantly as the damp basement seeped into his bones, Nathanael prayed for guidance. Prostrating himself, he settled his bones in for a long wait.

  * * *

  “I was talking to myself,” said Shea to Izzy.

  Izzy didn’t buy it, but she didn’t want to upset Shea when she sought to comfort her. “I told Meredith a sister was to be with you at all times.”

  Shea scoffed. Calmly, she slipped on a pair of jeans and a baggie hoodie. “Really, Izzy, I am fi
ne. I don’t require a babysitter. You worry for no reason.”

  Izzy let the silence thicken the air, her eyes not once leaving Shea. “Great. Then you’ll honor swear to me you will not attempt to end your life.”

  She smiled. “I honor swear I won’t.”

  That was too easy. Izzy’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the Cherub. Shea seemed so tiny compared to the rest of them, but she always had been so. Tiny in height and small in frame, Shea had the most powerful heavenly Cherub voice Izzy had heard. She stood exactly five feet and was the smallest Cherub on record. A distinction she didn’t like. That had been part of the reason Shea had been eager to take up arms with the rest of them. She wanted to prove her own worth. Izzy understood her motivation.

  “Did they already eat?”

  “What?” asked Izzy.

  “I am hungry. Did my other sisters eat?”

  Izzy smiled, feeling foolish. “Shea let us go together to find some food. I heard Nayla made one of her Mexican experiments again and I’m sure it will be delicious.” Izzy still wasn’t buying Shea’s quick escape, but the thought of eating one of Nayla’s salivating concoctions was irresistible.

  Izzy’s stomach grumbled. She wondered why they weren’t all fat. Nayla had taken on the role as chef and none had dissuaded her. She worked daily miracles in the small kitchen.

  * * *

  Izzy grew anxious with the onslaught of each day and night. Time was her new enemy. Four days had passed since Nathanael left. She tried hard not to picture him lying naked in prayer, failing miserably. Izzy also didn’t like worrying about his welfare. As stubborn as her, he’d starve in his quest to reach the Mistress before giving in.

  For the first time in a long while, Izzy did not know what to do. Always she took command. She’d been the one to find all her exiled sisters. The one to work her voice to ensure they had food and a roof over their heads. The one who used her smarts to save money, to allow Michael to become her business partner while securing a building to house all of them. She sought to create harmony, to shelter them as much as she could from the wicked lure of the sins of man. She might not always be successful but she’d try with all her might to keep them safe. Now, since Nathanael had landed on their turf, things had changed. Izzy realized she had slowly slipped back to the Cherub tradition of letting the Seraphim lead the way.

  Sighing heavily, she decided she’d had enough of that. She took a spiritual candle, and lit it. Izzy disrobed fast, to pull on a light white robe. Feeling purified, she went to her knees, stretched out her arms above her head, and began to hum. Only when she’d centered herself, her breathing deep and even, did she launch into a heavenly chant, opening her soul, praying for the first time for forgiveness.

  “Isabella, thou may rise.”

  At first Izzy wasn’t sure she’d heard true. When she turned her head and saw the Mistress’s form hovering, fully cloaked, looking like she had years ago, Izzy was stunned.

  “Thou may rise, my daughter. I am pleased by what I see in your heart.”

  Izzy did as instructed. The Mistress moved over toward Izzy’s bed and then proceeded to sit on it. A number of reactions sailed through Izzy—dismay, surprise, and a speck of fear.

  “Thy time has been served well and now we have much to discuss,” said the Mistress.

  Turning to face the Mistress, Izzy made sure to keep her head bowed and her hands folded in prayer. “I am yours to do with.” Speaking in angel speak, reciting the proper etiquette of words felt wrong to Izzy. She did it anyway.

  The Mistress took Izzy’s folded hands in her gloved ones. An electrical jolt traveled through Izzy. “It pleases me greatly you have not forgotten your Cherub traditions, my daughter.”

  Izzy tried not to grimace. She felt no more the Mistress’s daughter than an angel.

  “Tell me, how fare my Cherubs these last years in exile?”

  Izzy’s head instantly snapped up to look up. “You knew?” Izzy blurted out the question without thought.

  “Do not disappoint me with insular questions. I know all. Heed that,” she admonished.

  Izzy bowed her head. “Of course, Mistress. I meant no disrespect. We have survived.” Izzy did not wish to disclose anything else. What’s the point, if she’s omniscient and all?

  “I had no doubt you would. Now about your Seraphim. The call is yours. Should I heed his prayer, or do you wish to make him suffer more?” asked the Mistress, patting the spot next to her on the bed, inviting Izzy to sit.

  So much for keeping with tradition. Normally, during an audience with the Mistress, the Cherub always knelt to show respect. Izzy moved to sit down next to her, feeling awkward. “I am honored you think me wise enough to answer for Nathanael.”

  “He keeps to the decorum of his faith and expects a lot of you, Isabella. As he should. You are Cherub born.”

  Am I still? Izzy banked that thought. She nodded. “He seeks to deliver a message to you for the Almighty.”

  The Mistress rose in one fluid movement from the bed to hover once again in front of Izzy. “I believe you are the messenger in this case. What else does your Seraphim seek?”

  Part of Izzy didn’t want to admit what he wanted, but it felt like the Mistress saw into her heart and head. Izzy looked deeply at the Mistress, trying to see a hint of eyes behind the black-mesh veil that covered her face. The color and fine netting of the veil made that impossible. Taking a deep breath, she answered. “He seeks your permission for the b’iã ceremony.”

  “Interesting. I had wondered if he’d be Sera enough to push his demands. I take it he has?

  Izzy knew the Mistress knew he had been. She felt heat surface along her cheeks.

  “My daughter, I am most pleased he has. He is your soul mate. You are the heavenly host. Your charge of existence solely to usher in the next generation.”

  Izzy fought not to roll her eyes. By the path of the holy light, I am not ready for that. “I beg thee, Mistress, find him another.” Izzy rushed the words out fearful she’d let them go unsaid.

  “What?” A gasp escaped the Mistress, making Izzy tremble. “He displeases you?”

  “No,” said Izzy.

  “He does not desire you?”

  A vivid picture of their make-out session sailed through Izzy. “No,” said Izzy softly.

  “Then you are perfectly matched. Come, this topic is over. I would have you show me what the Dark Angel’s son delivered unto you.”

  Holy mother of light, she does not know everything. Immediately, Izzy tried to make her mind blank.

  “My child, if I knew all, I would not ask for you to show me. Come, give me your hand. I warn you now—hand-to-hand contact, flesh to my flesh, will hurt. This I must ask of you, my daughter.”

  It wasn’t a question and Izzy knew it wasn’t in her to refuse. With awe, Izzy watched her remove a black glove. Expecting flesh, a golden glow outlined like a hand startled her.

  “Come, my daughter. You must willingly touch my flesh. The pain will be much but you have not disappointed me.”

  That, more than anything, marshaled Izzy’s thought. She smiled, feeling her heart sore with the Mistress’s words. I did not disappoint her. She thought back to what had happened to her. My wings were cruelly hacked off. There are protruding bones in my back that are constant reminders I’ve been mutilated, but I did not displease the Mistress. Somehow, that made her feel better, and Izzy didn’t like that. The injustice she felt for what had happened to her and her fellow Cherubs had been something she’d latched onto for years. Izzy wasn’t ready to let it go.

  * * *

  Nathanael felt his lids grow heavy. He knew he’d dozed off and on for the past days. In the dark of the basement, he’d lost count of the days, but praying for a visit from the Mistress was always hard work. A knock on the door interrupted the litany of prayers that automatically flew from his mouth.

  A second knock swiftly followed.

  “Nathanael, you may come out.”

  Nat thought
he must be hallucinating. That voice sounded like it belonged to Isabella. Impossible.

  “Nathanael, do come to the door. Unlock it, now.”

  He groaned in pain when he complied. Stiffly, he got to his feet and with shaky hands, managed to yank on his clothes. Dizzy from the lack of food and water, he willed his queasy stomach to stop churning and grumbling. A losing battle. Using the key, he unlocked the door.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice cracked. She smiled. His heart flew to the heavens.

  She pushed a glass of water to his mouth. “I’ve come to take you home.”

  Nat’s eyebrows quirked as he downed the blessed liquid. A piece of fresh bread that still felt warm fell into his hand.

  “Eat it. And no, I mean back to my place,” she clarified, grasping him under the arms to help steady him when he attempted to take a step out of the room. “Here, I’ve got you. Do you think you’re able to walk on your own, or do you need me to get a stretcher?”

  Isabella goaded him on purpose, urging the Sera he longed to be too will the weakness away. “The Mistress did not come yet.”

  “That’s okay. She paid me a visit.”

  “She paid you a visit?” Nat knew he sounded like an idiot, but he must have heard her wrong.

  “It took me getting on my knees and praying to her but yes, she did visit and she knows about the message and…”

  Isabella’s cheeks turned pink and she looked down at the concrete floor.