The Forsaken (10 page)

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 gadget 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.”

“You can’t say that to her. Remember what I told you, earlier?

Nathanael arched a brow at her questioning. Immediately, he felt guilty for his actions, but Meredith stood her ground.

“Oh yes, I can. And I will. It’s the one thing that will make her see the wrong of her actions.”

“But to punish her when—”

Nat broke proper protocol. Gently, he touched Meredith’s shoulder. “I would never lay a hand on her, Meredith, have no fear.”

Meredith gave him a tentative smile. “I’m glad you came for her. I believe in the ways of the Mistress and she still does too, in her heart. You are two souls meant to be together. I beg thee, be gentle.”

Oh I’ll be gentle all right, after I shake some sense into her.
Nat didn’t say a word of what he thought, but by the growing smile on Meredith’s face she might have an inkling of where his mind headed.

He nodded, letting Meredith slip away. Nothing with Isabella was easy and tonight no exception. Knowing she purposely sought the demons, causing her fellow Cherubs to fear for her, was not her right.
Making my heart race with anger is not acceptable either.

What is my heavenly wife thinking? She could be killed.
His palms started to sweat when he realized exactly the danger she was facing, alone and on purpose. Nat raced out of the prayer room, and down the stairs, dread knotted like a twisting vine through him.
That’s exactly what she is trying to do.
If she couldn’t serve her penance to the satisfaction of the Mistress, her heavenly soul could be freed the minute she sacrificed herself attempting to kill a demon. If she died before he found her, Nat knew he would be alone for eternity, bound to the heavenly realm with no wife, doomed with the knowledge he shouldn’t have walked away two nights ago.

He hadn’t been Seraphim enough to understand he had hurt her when he’d left, refusing to talk about her hatred for the Mistress. Not
Sera
enough to realize he’d been blasted to his own version of Hell when she had told him who had cut off her wings. Nat raced against the darkness, fearing his time dwelling in self-pity would become his ultimate penance.

Chapter Eight

The fight, exactly what she needed tonight, pleased her aching heart. Nathanael had fled and she didn’t blame him. What Seraphim wanted a mutilated, imperfect Cherub?
Obviously not him.
She didn’t like how his leaving evoked emotions she didn’t want to examine too closely.

For the first time in a long time he caused her to question her original notions of taking up arms. Izzy shook her head. She took up arms to defend herself, a right all females should enjoy. She’d gone against tradition once because she believed she mattered. She might have been born a Cherub but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be something more. The heavenly realm might not accept her actions to take up arms in the war, but after all she’d suffered she wouldn’t cave to the expectations of others.

Still, after fighting Earth demons for years, she felt she was no closer to understanding their purpose. For every demon she slayed, a dozen more would show up in Boston.

Standing in the middle of the alley, she pulled up her sleeves to expose her bare arms. Withdrawing the small knife she kept in her boot she winced as she made a long cut in each arm. It might hurt her to cut her own flesh but the allure of her golden-hued blood, which smelled like incense drew demons like bees to flowers.

At one time, Izzy had tried interrogating the human-turned demons but she’d quickly discovered that was a waste of time. The humans who had been demon-turned had no inkling of why; they only sought one thing—to turn more humans into demons. It was a vicious cycle. Before Nathanael had arrived, she’d been getting quite weary of her lonely, one-sided battle, but she’d fought for them to take up arms and slay demons, so Izzy wasn’t about to quit anytime soon.

“Why I do believe it’s dinnertime,” said an ugly demon who materialized from behind two large Dumpsters.

The fetid smell of the demon’s breath forced her attention to the task at hand. “Don’t you demons bathe? Or better yet, brush your teeth? I’m sure I’ve got a mint somewhere in one of my pockets, and I’m begging you to chew it before I have to kill you.”

From the corner of Izzy’s eye she noted two more demons trying to sneak up on her to the right. The ugly demon jumped right in front of her face and smacked Isabella’s face hard. Her neck jarred so much, Izzy heard something crack. She spat. “That had better not scar.”

“Me master said you’d be the cocky one.”

“Really? Izzy had never heard a demon mentioning its master before and this development gave her pause. The demon, still wearing his blue pin-striped business suit, which now had vomit on the front, glared at her. He had recently been taken, and the black stain of his soul still crept up around his neck. In another day his entire flesh would be grayish black.
Then again, he’s not going to live to see another day.
She waited until the two to her right grew surer of their so-called skills.

Bracing for a punch to her gut, she eyed the other demons, both were older by a dozen years. It still amazed Izzy that no Earth-born angels seemed to be aware of the demons’ existence. She’d made the mistake once of telling the madam who ran the Earth-bound Cherub safe house about them and didn’t need to be told twice to keep her mouth shut.
If only they’d run them over, preferably in one of their Porsches.
A vision of doing that made her crack a smile. The punch to her gut stole her breath away. She crumpled to her knees, barely avoiding falling flat on her face. Her jeans ripped, making her see red.

“Okay, now I’m pissed. Those jeans were expensive and I seriously hate shopping. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get jeans when you’re almost six feet and not a size zero in this town? You are so dead.”

Izzy jumped up, startling them, and kicked out with her leg to let her arms go wide, her aim dead on as she let glide her morning stars dipped in holy water. The newly turned demon in front of her gasped and fell to his knees. Izzy quite enjoyed the still-shocked look on his face, a look she instantly classified in the ‘what-a-girl-killed-me?’ category a second before he vaporized.

Smiling sweetly, she turned toward the older demons. “Now it’s your turn.”

They both grinned, but the shorter one drooled like a dog. Fear spiked inside her for the first time in thirty-six hours as Izzy watched the dark shadows of the alley morph into ghostlike figures. Izzy did a slow clap. “Wow, something new for a change.” Moving into the middle of the grimy alley, she braced her legs for impact. She counted fifteen figures, each with red-glowing demon eyes. They might move like zombies but she knew firsthand they weren’t a myth.

The demons who had morphed from the shadows weren’t human-turned demons coming at her, rather Hell’s minions, and her heart started to race. The last time she’d fought them had been in the heavens and it certainly hadn’t been easy. Without a doubt, Izzy knew she was now in for the fight of her life. For a minute true regret for her irrational actions washed over her. She couldn’t die. Her sisters needed her.

One large, shadowy figure edged toward her. “This is the one.”

“
The one
. Why thank you.” If she could play them along for a bit longer, she might be able to reach the two knives tucked into the holster underneath her shirt. Confidently, she placed her arms on her hips, ensuring her fingers were a little higher up than normal, getting ready for a quick grab.

With four minions surrounding her, Izzy prayed for a quick death. “Now would be a good time to have wings,” she said. A manic chuckle flew from her lips.

When they lunged, she grabbed her knives, squatted, and let them fly. No evaporation. Her knives simply flew through the demons like they weren’t there. The one with the death grip on her outstretched leg certainly felt solid enough to her. Punching him in the face felt real too. Why did her knives not work?

The human-demon grasped Izzy by the hair, hauling her up until her legs were suspended at least a foot off the ground. Kicking him in the nuts, she wondered for a second if he still had any. When he dropped her instantly to the ground, she grinned.
Guess you’ve still got your jewels. Not for long though.
Yanking her last knife out from her boot, she turned around and knifed him in the belly. He roared and then thankfully evaporated. “At least one of you is acting demon-like tonight.”

The rush of minions coming at Izzy made her want to flee. Heart galloping like a Pegasus, she stupidly stood her ground, wounded and bloodied, but she’d fight them all. Probably not a long fight, but she wasn’t one to run, ever. Taking on demons was real work. Better than sitting at the apartment, thinking. Izzy wanted to avoid examining the emotions Nathanael evoked in her for the place that had been at one time her loving home. The
had been
part knifed her still.

* * *

Nat heard Isabella scream. His heart stopped beating but thankfully his legs picked up speed. Rounding the corner of a large office building, he stormed into the darkened alley. He balked at the scene.

Isabella struggled in the middle of at least a dozen minions. Nat did the only thing he could think of to get them off her. He swung his heavenly Kita hard, slicing through the minions with ease. They might appear shadowlike, but the minute his heavenly blessed sword came into contact with them they were sent back to their Hell realm. Every time a minion punched him, searing pain burned his flesh.

Isabella was too wounded to do anything but lay on the filthy ground, and it took willpower for Nat to ignore her when all he wanted to do was grab her and flee. Seraphim do not run from battle. While his skin burned from the direct contact from the minions he kept swinging his Kita. His shoulder muscles ached but he’d be damned if he’d let on. Mowing down minions wasn’t easy and with only two left to confront, he prayed no more materialized. Sweat dotted his forehead and he longed to swipe it but he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

He lunged the sword straight into the heart of one of the last minion that came at him. In quick succession he took care of the last one. For a second, Nat could have sworn he saw another minion in the darkest part of the alley, but when he looked again, nothing was there. Isabella moaned. The sound, a desperate plea, brought her fully to his attention. Her golden life essence flowed freely around her, so much yellow it could have lit up the alley. Nat scooped up Isabella, running with her in his arms back to her sisters. He prayed he wasn’t too late. He prayed he’d be granted time to make amends.

“Did we defeat them?” Her voice was weak, so unlike the commanding Isabella persona he’d grown accustomed to, and it almost made Nat stumble.

“We certainly did,” he said. “Isabella, keep your eyes open. Stay awake.”

“Why? It’s so nice when I close my eyes. You know what I see?”

He knew what she saw. “What?” Nat would talk about anything to keep her awake. Terror, if she truly closed her eyes for good she’d slip from him, made him quicken his pace.
Two more of these cursed blocks
. He noticed for the first time how the humans didn’t offer assistance, not that he’d take it, but their total lack of humanity and morality struck him like a blow.