The Forsaken (12 page)

“What?”

“Oh, sorry, guess you don’t know that about Izzy. She volunteered, not that she had much choice, but she allowed them to shear off her wings so we could keep ours.”

“Meredith,” he cautioned, “if this is your version of good, I think I’ll stick with my version of bad.”

A soft chuckle flew from her, the sound startling her. She’d thought to comfort him but tonight the tables were reversed.

“I could truly show you all that is good about us.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said.

She grinned more as he gently but firmly took her hand in his to join in prayer.

* * *

Nat woke up, realizing he’d slept soundly for the first time since landing on Earth. Sunlight, the blessed path of light, streamed through the slightly parted drapes covering the small window. A feminine leg draped over his thigh, and a head with a mass of yellow hair, breathtakingly beautiful like the warmth of the sun blessing them with the dawn of a new day, covered his chest. Tucked under all that glorious mane was Isabella. Her skin against his was hot. He felt the quick rise of her chest and the bunched up material from her shift as it rode up past her thighs. The leg strewn across his was smooth and it took a lot of willpower for Nat to resist touching it. Isabella burrowed her head further under the crook of his arm. She had made it through the night.
That is a good sign.

Taking the opportunity he’d been granted, Nat carefully edged his body closer to hers, while gently removing her tempting leg from his thigh. All the while, he inhaled her unique Cherub scent. She smelled a little like the flowery incense that had been burning all night and a lot like a sexy angel.

Rolling her onto her back, he carefully moved the duvet cover down, exposing more of her flesh. A crisscross of scars marred her body, along with the intricate Rashi script that covered much of her thighs, but she no longer bled. Her heart was back to beating a normal rhythm.

“Have your fill of me or do you require me to bare it all for your pleasure,
Sere
?”

Isabella’s voice, filled with sarcasm, felt like fresh rainwater. A blessed thing to hear. Leaning back on one elbow, Nat smiled. “I was making sure you lived.”

“I would have thought my breathing would have been a dead giveaway.”

Nat laughed. “You constantly amaze me. I am more than satisfied you are alive, but what you went through last night was not a laughing matter.”

“Who said I was laughing?”

“It’s in your voice,” said Nat, watching the play of emotions she tried hard to guard. “What you did last night almost got you killed.”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “Sadly, it appears I’m still alive.”

Nat grimaced, watching her attempt to move, noting instantly the pain that flew across her face. “Don’t move. Let me get your some water.” He untucked the covers from his body and turned toward her bathroom, glad once again he’d slept fully clothed.

“Thank you,” she said meekly.

Taking a few minutes to use the washroom, he washed his face with her rose scented soap. Before leaving her bathroom, he filled up a glass he’d brought in with him to ensure she had fresh water.

“By the blessed path of light, I told you not to move. In case you didn’t get what I meant, that certainly meant do not move from the bed.”

She swatted him away, sweat beaded on her forehead as she attempted to stand straight. “In case you haven’t noticed,
Sere
, I’m barely covered.”

Nat chuckled. “In case you didn’t notice, Isabella, I was in your bed. I’ve been here all night. Modesty between us can happen later. I am assisting you because you are being stubborn. Beautiful, but stubborn.”

She tsked. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, but I will admit to being occasionally stubborn.”

Nat scooped her up, inciting a small squeak of alarm from her. “Do you think me about to drop you? Come, Isabella, you weigh next to nothing. And you are wrong. You are always stubborn and I am a novice when it comes to flattery. Training to be a
Sera
has not given me the opportunity to learn how best to behave around females.”

“Really? I thought you commanded them to take care of your needs.”

“And what would those needs be?” he asked, moving his lips closer to her head. He felt her body stiffen and instantly regretted teasing her, even as he took great delight in seeing Isabella, his warrior angel, blush a pretty shade of pink.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, so don’t dare deny it.”

Carefully lowering her back to the bed, Nat tucked her once again under the covers. “I am not denying it. Things here are different and I’ve discovered ordering you only makes you angry.”

“Go figure,
Sere
.”

“I do not want to fight with you, Isabella, but it was wrong of me to leave the other night. I apologize for being insensitive to your needs.” Nat could tell by the way Isabella’s eyes widened she was mulling over his words. He used that time to tuck a few stray golden hairs of hers behind her ears.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He smiled. “No one will stop me.”

“When I am better I will,” she said, a light smile filling more of her eyes than her mouth.

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

A rare, heartfelt smile flew across her face. His heart leaped with joy, hoping for once he was making progress.

“Isabella, you will never again do what you did the other night. Am I clear?”

“Back to ordering, are we,
Sere
? You don’t own me.”

“I don’t want to own you, but to be with you,” he mumbled. She bit her lips and Nat knew she wished to curse him.

“Nathanael, there’s no hope for us. I don’t take to orders.”

Nat cupped Isabella’s chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “There is always hope. I have no idea what Cherubs need. Seraphim are not allowed to associate with Cherubs until our chosen is picked by the Mistress. And you, Isabella, are my chosen. I would have it no other way.”

He watched her digest that tidbit of information as he carefully withdrew his hand. He longed to lean in for a kiss but knew she’d probably punch him in the gut. Isabella tempted him like no other and part of him didn’t like that. He needed his reasoning. She moved away from him, grasping the blankets like they were her lifeline. She was skittish being so close to him and he understood exactly how she felt.

“That reminds me,” she said, sitting up straighter as she folded her hands into a delicate prayer-like hold.

He wasn’t buying it. She had an anxious and slightly vulnerable look on her face. Two traits he had yet to see.

“You said you heard I was to be your chosen—why? Why would the Mistress tell you I was to be your chosen when I am the Forsaken?”

Nat knew eventually he’d have this conversation, but he thought he’d have more time. Looking away from her, he sought how best to proceed, feeling like war was about to be waged once again. Nothing with Isabella felt easy.

“Let me guess. Your father told you.”

“It’s not like you think.”

This time, Isabella laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. Bitterness and sadness fueled her tense expression. “You tell me what I should think, because what I
think
is that your father told you your heavenly wife had been chosen and she happened to be the Forsaken One and he asked you to petition the Mistress for a second choice. Tell me I am wrong.”

Nat wished and prayed he could, but the truth of her words cut like the Kita sword—hard and thoroughly through his heart.

“My bet is that our loving Mistress did not grant you a second choice.”

“Isabella…”

“You tell me I’m wrong, Nathanael. Tell me that you did not ask for another. That you willingly wanted me. Me, the Forsaken One. In case you’re wondering how I know they call me that, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

Her voice dropped an octave, causing his gut to twist. The truths she threw at him always left him breathless and angry, and neither trait was becoming for a Seraphim.

“At night, when I’m asleep, I can still hear the voices of my fellow Cherubs in the heavenly realm. Sometimes I’m even blessed with a glimpse of them and their splendor. It’s a tease, something the Mistress likes to throw my way as a harsh reminder of all I’ve given up. I know my name and those of my fellow Cherub sisters have been etched into the
I’mault
Tablet. I know my crime to dare to bear arms, to rebel against Cherub tradition, is a tale told to my fellow sisters to ensure obedience. Am I wrong?”

Nat jumped up from the bed and weaved an agitated path from her door back to her bed. “You think I don’t want you. By the blessed scribes, I just sung to you all night. I’ve never done that for anyone before, not even my…

“Your what?”

“My brother.”

She didn’t understand, and he wasn’t in the mood to explain things to her.

Glaring down at her he said, “You are wrong. What my father wants for me is not what I want. Yes, I asked for a second choice. Yes, the Mistress declined. Am I unhappy with her choice? No. You are not perfect, but neither am I. You’re not what I expected to want…but I do. I will admit your difference takes some time to get used to, but I’m trying to adapt. I’m trying to understand and place myself in your predicament.”

Silence.

“Did you really sing to me?” she whispered.

Of all the things she had to zone in on, she choose the one that made him the most uncomfortable. He nodded, feeling heat surface along his cheeks. Seraphim shouldn’t blush. Then again, they probably shouldn’t sing, either.

“Why?”

Her voice, soft and full of wonderment, made him smile. “Your sisters sang to you most of the night but things didn’t look good. Shea suggested my voice might help. I’m glad you were in and out of consciousness, because trust me, my voice might have helped…but it certainly didn’t sound like it at the time.”

A genuine smile filled Isabella’s face, transforming her instantly. “I…I…thank thee, Nathanael. I would have liked to hear thee sing to me, or at least remember it. No one has done such for me before. I am honored.”

She’d reverted to scripture, and that warmed his heart, filling him with hope.

“Will you sing to me again, Nathanael?” she asked, a teasing look in her eyes.

“I think not, least you have a relapse.”

She chuckled. “I truly do wish I could recall your voice. We’re always looking for new talent for our band.”

This time Nat chuckled. A teasing side of Isabella—who’d have thought?
Certainly not myself a few days ago.
That reminder felt cold when he knew they were meant for each other and she didn’t really want anything to do with him. “I don’t think so. I have a feeling that listening to my morning song might make you ill, and after all you went through last night, getting sick from the sound of my voice is not something my bruised ego can take.”

“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.”