The Forsaken (20 page)

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.

“And what, Isabella?”

Mustering her courage she looked him in the eye. “She knows about us and she’s willing to complete the ceremony.”

“Why do I get the feeling this does not make you happy?” asked Nathanael, slowly chewing the piece of bread that tasted like heaven to his starved body.

“I am afraid, Nathanael, it will not be to your liking.”

“It…you mean you. Trust me I think you’re perfect.”

“I am not perfect and you know that. The Mistress has stated her demands,” said Isabella helping him move up the angled stairs.

“And what are they, Isabella.”

“She will perform the ceremony only if you are willing to stay with us.”

It took Nathanael a full minute to be absorb the ramifications of what Isabella said. “Are you saying she will not allow you back into the heavenly realm?”

“I think it best if she explains things to you, Nathanael. Trust me—this is something we will need to talk about. Things are never easy when dealing with the Mistress. That, I have learned the hard way.”

Nathanael laughed. His vocal chords still sounded rusty. “Good to know we both agree on that. Before I dare present myself to her, I need to eat and drink…and take a bath. Are you willing to take me to your house now, Isabella?”

It gave Nathanael deep satisfaction to see Isabella gulp. She wasn’t comfortable with him still, but he knew she wanted him to come home with her. “By the way…how did you find me?”

Isabella looked at him. “The Mistress told me where you were.”

Of course she did. She’s probably been laughing her head off for the past four days while I’ve been dying of thirst, and almost froze to death.
Nat didn’t say any of what he thought. Nodding, Isabella escorted him from the building into the dark of the night. He wondered if his body could withstand the five-block hike back to her building. He highly suspected Isabella did not venture into human vehicles. The compacted space, roar of the engine, and stench of the vehicle’s interior he’d gotten into only once had made Nathanael think only a demon could design something so Hellish. Tonight, his strength further tested, he fought to put one foot in front of another, wishing with all his might he had his heavenly wings for support.

“Lean on me; let me help you.” Isabella’s heavenly voice poured through him. She offered her strength and the power of her voice eased his aching bones and muscles. When he leaned onto her, allowing her to take more of his weight, that unique Cherub fragrance of hers made him wish he’d bathed. He knew for a certainty he didn’t smell as pure as she did.

Who needs wings when your soul mate is by your side?
Nat didn’t dare speak those loving words to Isabella. Still tough as nails when she was all Cherub, he’d save those endearments for later.

Chapter Sixteen

Ash watched the human climb the rail leading up to the Cherub’s dwelling. What was he doing? Ash certainly didn’t know what
he
was doing. He’d bargained everything with his Cherub—one he’d only meant to absorb power from. Something he couldn’t describe and didn’t want to examine too closely had instead sailed through him from the moment he’d come face-to-face with Shea. His father would have a field day with that, probably roast a dozen slaves just to piss Ash off. Really, though this was all the Mistress’s fault. Her taunting words of redemption had teased him to extremes.
God, I hate her.
Now, he understood his father’s wrath for her.

Elusive, mysterious, and powerful enough to rule if she so desired, the Mistress was not to be dismissed. He’d tried that but her voice always stole into his consciousness, whispering words of warnings he couldn’t ignore. Well he could, but then he’d be obeying his father and Ash had made it his primary goal to never do that.

“Do you honestly think they will offer salvation to you…a mere human?”

Gareth stilled his breathing, his body tensed for an attack, but Ash had already invaded the young man’s mind. In Iraq when Gareth’s senses had screamed evil he’d listened, and Ash knew he longed to confront a demon. Ash, however, was not like the demons the human had seen in Iraq. He was as far removed from the soul-sucking demons who’d taken this human’s friends than being classified as an angel. Tonight with the bite of the late October wind cutting through the human’s bulky Celtics sweater, sweat trickled down his back. Fear had a funny way of making humans sweat even when their body froze in shock.

“Who the Hell’s there?” barked Gareth, rising to his feet. This human was always ready for a fight. In fact, Ash knew he longed for it.

“It is not Hell that you seek but Hell might yet take you.”

Gareth barked a dry laugh. “Buddy, you want to do psychobabble, take that shit somewhere else.”

Ash laughed causing Gareth to tremor, even though he tried hard not to show his fear. Ash’s esteem for the male rose a notch but not enough to turn the course of his actions. This human would be used for his purposes because he was not about to let Shea suffer. Her power had changed him and while he hated worrying about her, he did need to ensure Isabella, the leader of this exiled group of Cherubs, did as asked.

“I see why they have taken you into their fold.”

Gareth didn’t acknowledge the remark. When Ash stepped fully into the light cast by the half-moon, Gareth also didn’t speak. The miracle of wings, the alien-like mystery, no longer surprised him, but Ash wasn’t an angel and Gareth was about to discover the huge difference separating them.

“I take it you are an angel,” stated Gareth, trying to sound bored.

“Of sorts, human. So it is salvation that draws you like a magnet to them.” Ash moved closer to Gareth. “It is good you are ignorant of who I am and what I could do to you.”

Gareth smirked. A vivid image of feeling the warm flesh from his buddies mutilated body on his skin assaulted him, and this time it was Ash trying to appear unaffected. Reading this human wasn’t easy.

“You humans are so limited in your perception of evil. The things I could do to you…you would beg me for the mercy of what had happened to you in that war.”

Everything inside Gareth stilled and if Ash hadn’t had his increased powers, this human would have been able to block him. “You reading my mind?”

“Of course, human, but soon your worries shall cease.”

Ash clasped Gareth on the shoulder. Searing pain blinded both Ash and Gareth as the connection was made. Ash willed his essence to seep into Gareth’s mouth to stream inside of him. The human fought the conversion, first by choking and then trying to vomit. Ash’s will would win the day. Shea needed him. With that thought utmost in Ash’s mind, he forced himself again onto the human.

“I do this because I care for her and they will not welcome me into their fold.”

Through the clenching pain in Gareth’s gut, which Ash too felt to the core of his being, Gareth crumpled into a fetal heap, his body bucking and spasming, against what Ash was forcing. There was nothing Gareth could do to fight against Ash’s hold.

“There is no other way. I must become you for them to gain my trust. Forgive me.” The more Ash stayed in the human realm, the more he understood the exiled Cherub’s angst. A day ago he would never have thought to ask for forgiveness. It certainly would have had him killed in his father’s realm. Forgiveness, thinking of another beyond oneself, was the single most punishable crime one could commit in Lucifer’s domain and one Ash never forgot. Until, he amended, he’d touched Shea.
For eternity, she might truly doom me.

* * *

Meredith was anxious. She slipped the red robe over her head, belting the gold-colored rope around her middle. With one last look at her room, she walked out and made her way to the common room where the blessed ceremony would take place.

“Everything is ready,” said Nayla, bringing in a second tray of food to the room.

A feast to celebrate the
x’simcha
ceremony, the joining of Isabella and Nathanael. Not nearly as celebratory as in the heavenly realm, but Meredith did want it to be remembered properly.
Tonight, we will make it special. The younger ones need to see this. They need to realize the significance of this act. I beg of you again, Mistress, honor us with your presence.

“Is everything the way you remember?” asked Nayla, bringing Meredith’s mind back to the task at hand. She quickly surveyed the common room, taking in the subtle but efficient changes to the space.

“Nayla, once again you shine like a rare beacon of light. Everything is perfect. You even remembered to create the
uq’mulat
—the heavenly cloud cake.”

“It will not taste exactly like it would…”

Meredith drew the sister closer for a loving embrace. “You always work a miracle. Tonight, you did not disappoint. I know it will taste divine.”

Nayla bowed her head, hiding a rush of thankful tears.

“Would you be so kind, Nayla, to ask Shea to bring in the black candle? We only need one.”