The Forsaken (16 page)

Meredith, immediately, as a proper Cherub should, fell to her knees to bow her head in thanks to him. “Nathanael, we are honored thou feel this way. Destiny can be a dark path to travel.”

Izzy remained standing. Nathanael urged Meredith up with a hand, while his eyes moved over Izzy, making her feel unworthy.

Izzy looked at her best friend. “Yeah, that’s right, whatever that means. We did not ask for your help or your diligence.” Izzy knew her tone was tough as steel, but everything about him set her on edge.

“I am Seraphim. You are Cherubs. What you all have endured and continue to endure has affected my beliefs and thinking. Isabella, I wish I could change your destiny but we are tied together.”

What? He doesn’t want me? By the path of light, I did not see that one coming.
Izzy set her mouth in a grim line.

Nathanael dropped to his knees, bowed his head to the wooden office floor and started speaking scripture. Meredith froze in place. Isabella rushed over to him, dropped to her own knees and begged him to stop. He didn’t.

“Sh’ulaum b’iã erasum v’eder’at. I’slla cuelum a b’h’lo’avae. Sh’leesm o’doult b’iã erasum v’eder’at. Taim’u. Rl’extera. Q’y ut ã ÿ.”

By thee Almighty’s blessing, I take thee Isabella, your soul, heart, mind and body. I give freely all my love to thee and only thee. One we are. For eternity. Till dust do us make.

The words, ancient as the heavens, rolled thick off his tongue. The power of angel speak danced like a techno song around Izzy, making her dizzy. The words wrapped around her soul, her heart and mind with bindings as tight as a noose around her neck, and for a second Izzy forgot to breathe. Worse, the power of the words seemed to penetrate the layers of her skin, causing pleasure to rise like a tidal wave through her. The meaning of the words was like a clear neon sign. Tears marred Izzy’s face. Rage caused her shoulders to quake.

Nathanael rose to place a gentle hand on her bowed, quivering head. “It had to be done, Isabella. I am not sorry for claiming our destiny. We will work through this together. I am here to help.

Izzy rose swiftly to her feet, flinching from his touch and concerned eyes. Stepping back she glared at him with all the hatred consuming her. “I don’t want your help.”

“You don’t want anyone’s help but facing demons alone is not useful.”

“Get out!” screeched Izzy.

“I will be back and I’m not sorry for what I’ve done.” He left as quietly as he’d entered.

“You shall be,
Sere
. You shall be.”

* * *

Meredith froze in the shadow of the hall, watching as Mike once again approached Shea’s door. Today alone, she suspected he’d tried a dozen times to muster his courage to knock on her door. He knew another sat in the room with her at all times because Meredith had told him. She didn’t have to tell him the why of it. She suspected he had witnessed the jagged scars on Shea’s wrists. From the half-open window, the wild lyrics from the recreational center streamed into their dwelling. She darted a look at the window, wishing she’d shut it earlier. Meredith did not like the music and she missed performing. Routine had become such a strong force that only with it gone did she realize her reliance on it. With routine, there was less time for questioning, less time for the want of what she couldn’t have.

Nathanael had forced Mike to take a blood oath. Meredith discovered that when Isabella muttered how annoying Nathanael had become. Meredith wondered what Mike thought of Nathanael’s golden-colored blood. And that begged the bigger question rattling around in Meredith’s head. Why was Shea’s blood red now? Nathanael had been frank with his explanation. Shea’s stolen soul, which was linked to her heavenly powers, condemned her, made her damned. Meredith wasn’t so certain that was truly the case. Shea had no control over what happened to her and didn’t deserve to feel unworthy. It worried Meredith more than she liked to think.

Moving from the shadow, Meredith approached Mike. “Would you like to go in and see her?”

Mike whirled around, and Meredith didn’t like how his eyes widened with surprise. One would have thought having a house filled with angels would make Mike happy. That was not the case.

“I don’t know.”

“I think she would like that.”

Mike hung his head, and Meredith wanted to weep. In such a short time, a little over two weeks, so much had changed in their lives. Where before, Mike would be joking and laughing with them, he now was guarded and acutely aware of his words and actions. Meredith preferred it the other way. Now, she knew why Izzy had not dared to speak of what they truly were. Angels existing in folklore and biblical stories was one thing. Angels that you helped rescue from the streets was another matter entirely.

Mike raised his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know about you all now.”

“Yes, I know. Do you hate us?”

“Hate you?” Mike flinched. “You’re crazy, Meredith. I couldn’t hate any of you. I think of you like family.”

Meredith bowed her head. “We are honored, Mike. The burden you carry is not an easy one. I should warn you—Shea will never be the same now.”

Mike’s eyes grew haunted, but his voice was strong, even commanding. Meredith welcomed it. “To me, she will always be the same.”

Meredith mustered a half smile. “Then your honor is blessed. Let that shine onto Shea. She will need it. But…”

“Don’t bother with any more buts, Meredith. I get the hint. Be gentle. Gotcha.”

“No, Mike I wasn’t going to say that. Shea needs you to be strong not gentle. Mending with shaky hands will only scar her more. Treat her like you always have. She must learn to respect herself and you of all people are best suited for that task.”

Mike mumbled, “Thanks. I think.”

Meredith opened Shea’s bedroom door and ushered out a fellow sister. The sweet overpowering scent of incense filled the room. The drapes were drawn tightly shut even though the sun shone brilliantly outside. The room smelled dark and moist, not at all fresh and airy as would normally be the case.

“I leave you now, Mike, to work your own miracle. Be a believer for us.”

Mumbling more to himself, Mike paced into the small room, moving from where Shea lay in one twin bed to the makeshift cot that had been placed on the opposite side of the room. Meredith watched him struggle. He didn’t know what to do, or where to sit.

“She doesn’t need gentle words, Mike. Remember, be true to her.” Those were the only parting words Meredith dared to offer. She could not write this history. Mike’s fate had to unfold as was written—a shame because Meredith liked Mike.

Meredith’s gift of foretelling was never accurate, and she suspected that was why the Mistress had gifted it to her when exiled to Earth. Cursed was more fitting. Never once would Meredith think that thought for she knew the Mistress had not left them. She knew, without doubt, the Mistress observed, and while she’d also liked to disclose that to Izzy, she knew her best friend would rather believe in superman than that truth.

* * *

“It’s okay, Shea. It’s just me, Mike. I opened the windows to let in some light for you. I’ve…I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Shea motioned to the water on the side table. Mike fumbled with the glass, spilling water as he went, his fingers all but trembling. He was the last person she wanted to see.

“Thank you.”

Her voice sounded different to her own ears and she knew Mike noticed, but said nothing. Slowly, she sipped at the tepid water. Clutching the blanket tight, she edged up in the bed.
When was the last time I got out of this bed?
The question startled her because a day ago it would not have entered her head. Her only thought had been penance. What she had allowed to happen, what she had embraced, made her want to weep. She’d thought he’d come to her in her dreams like he had before, but that wasn’t the case.

“It’s going to be okay, Shea,” said Mike.

It would never be okay again, but Shea couldn’t say that. She supposed she must have sighed because Mike cursed.

“Christ, what shit. It’s not going to be okay. You’re never going to be the same, but that doesn’t mean you get to give up on living. When was the last time you had a shower?”

The vengeance in his voice and question startled her. “What?”

“Shower, bath, anything. I bet you’ve been wallowing in here all week. I’m such a shit. I should have come sooner. What the Hell was I waiting for? A bunch of angels, trying to deal with this?”

“You know of us?” His admission caught at her. She would never think Izzy to tell him and then it dawned on her. He knew because of what had happened to her. Because of her crime.

“Don’t even go there. Yeah, I know of you, the bunch of you…but Shea, to me, you’re the same.”

She gave him the courtesy of a small nod. She wasn’t the same, but suspected he didn’t know all there was to Cherub life.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Mike, bending down to the side of the bed.

She shook her head. Her hair was truly matted. Mike’s earlier question finally penetrated her brain. The last time she’d bathed was the night she’d returned home. She remembered it well because the bath water had turned red with the color of her blood. Not yellow or golden, but red—a slap in the face, decreeing how far she’d fallen. Meredith, luckily, had been the only sister attending to her, but her gasp said it all. She was no longer angel material.

Then why do I still have my wings?
Another question she had not thought to ask herself.

“You should have left me in that alley, Mike.”

The range of emotions that crossed lightning fast across Mike’s normally controlled and so boyishly handsome face caused Shea’s heart to skip a beat.

“Fuck that, Shea. What happened to you was not your fault. I’m not about to let you wallow anymore in this bed with self-pity. Yeah, I got the whole Angel 101 talk from Izzy and Nathanael, so believe me, I’m trying to understand how you feel. But get this: lying down, letting this thing take over you is not going to make you feel better. Don’t you want to get even? Don’t you want revenge?”

She propped herself up straighter, dragging along even more of the covers. “Cherubs aren’t to think of revenge.”

“Seems to me your Cherub way of thinking has already damned you. Why not go for the revenge feeling? You want revenge, then I’ll teach you how to fight. I’ll teach you how to kill. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about mankind.”

“It wasn’t man that did this to me.”

“Yeah, I heard that too. Trust me, I’ve believed in demons longer than angels, so I’ll teach you everything I know about killing humans and hopefully some of that intel will work on slaying demons.”

“Are you serious, Mike? You’d want to help me?” asked Shea.

“Shea, I would do anything for you. First things first.”

He walked into her small bathroom and turned on the water. “Take a shower. I’ll give you ten minutes. Clock’s ticking, Shea. Once you’re dressed, meet me downstairs. We’re starting our first lesson today.”

Shea felt a ray of hope light through her for the first time in a long while.

“If you’re not done in ten, I’m coming in to get you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Mike grinned and winked at her. “Oh yes I would.”

Chapter Twelve

Bone-weary and feeling unsure of her skills, Meredith slid into the bath. The fragrant lilac oil she’d poured in soothed her frayed nerves.
Seeing the future is not for the heavenly fainthearted.
Sighing, she dunked her head under the water, loving how fast her mind went blank. Like her fellow Cherubs, most of Meredith’s powers had been taken. She, like her sisters, still felt the rush of human emotions but her foretelling the future, something she had not shared with any of them, had not been with her before the fall from the heavenly realm. That curse she’d been damned with the moment her feet graced the filthy pavement. Like most things, the curses the Mistress leveled at her showed glimpses, never the whole truth. For instance, she had seen Shea singing inside a large church with a beautiful smile on her face. She had not seen her fall from grace.

What good is seeing the future if I can’t get it right? That is the crux of things and why the Mistress gave it to me.
Meredith lathered the soap on like there was no tomorrow. Reluctantly she got out of the tub and toweled off. The minute she stepped into her bedroom, she felt Gareth’s dark energy curl around her.

The knock on her door told her exactly who was opposite the barrier. “Give me a minute, Gareth,” said Meredith, quickly slipping on some clothing.

Gareth barged in. “Why didn’t you tell me about Shea?”

He knows.
Mentally, Meredith made a note to reprimand her sisters. Disclosing what happened to them had to remain strictly private. Moving to her dresser she took out a large sweatshirt, noticing immediately the tremors cascading through his body. His hands jerked in place on his jeans and Gareth kept wetting his lips. Not a nervous man, Meredith knew he endured withdrawal for his own betterment. Part of her sympathized with his plight. She had felt that way when she’d first landed on Earth. Two years later it still hurt as much.

“What would you have me do? Call you? You were the one that left, Gareth.”

He looked at her. Always, his green eyes disarmed her. They were so unlike an angel’s. Rooted to Earth, his green irises reminded her more of this realm than anything else.

“I had to leave. What…what you showed me, I needed time to think. Next time anything like that goes down you call me. Hear me, Meredith.”

Gareth sounded so like a Seraphim when he was not.

“You have need of me?” asked Meredith.

“Stop saying that Meredith, it makes me…” Meredith raised her eyes watching his cheeks blush.

“Makes you what?” she fished, enjoying herself.

“Never mind. It’s just that this isn’t normal.”

Meredith sat down on her bed, patting the space next to her. “You are saying I am not normal.”