The Forsaken by Renee Pace
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my daughter, Talia. You, my dream-child with three older brothers, will learn how to fight for your independence. And your songs fill my heart with joy. Keep on singing!
To my husband, Brian, for his encouragement, love, and hugs that always make my day.
To my good writing friends Nancy Cassidy and Cathy Verge—your coffee chats really uplift my spirits.
To all the girls out there wondering if they can make their own way—oh yes you can.
To all my fans. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. I truly would love to hear from you at [email protected].
Prologue
The overwhelming smell of incense made Izzy gag, but she refused to allow her body that rebellious desire. Using the Kita, she sliced at the demon, enjoying the sound of its skin ripping open but not its sulfur stench. A second ago, the demon had been shredding an older Cherub who hadn’t tried once to defend herself. None of the older Cherubs seemed to want to defend themselves. Demons had been attacking the heavens for the past months, their steady assault slow but determined. Until the last demon was dead or until the heavenly gates were fixed and sealed anew, their assault would continue and more of her sisters would die. And a demon death meant their souls would go straight to Hell.
War had brewed for centuries between the noble houses, but it had taken the kidnapping of a Seraphim child to elicit bloodlust. Many thought the angels who were fighting amongst themselves were a diversion Lucifer was using to mobilize his demon army, and Izzy highly suspected they were correct.
“Look out, Izzy,” yelled Meredith.
Izzy ducked, a demon’s snarly clawed hand missing her head by inches. That was close. Too close. She twisted her body in a move she’d practiced daily since taking up arms, glad now for those tedious days she’d endured being yelled at by their teacher while sweat dripped in a very un-Cherub way down her back. If her mother still lived, Izzy would have been chastised for sweating. Cherubs were sweet and innocent and most certainly did not have body odor. Not that sweating had deterred the one person she’d begged to teach them to defend themselves: a Seraphim, a male warrior angel, who hadn’t wanted to teach them anything about weapons, but one who had agreed to his detriment—and today she thanked him for all those lessons.
Pushing the Kita up, she used all her might to leverage the sword in a swift arch, cutting through the demon’s hand. Minus one hand, and soon to be minus a head. But Meredith was faster. Using speed and agility, Meredith threw the holy water at the demon, while Izzy moved onward. A cluster of demons, their rotten-egg stench easily identifiable, were making their way toward the Cherubs.
“Get those Cherubs out of here,” said Izzy to Meredith, indicating with her head the six older Cherubs who didn’t seem to have any common sense when it came to their safety. “I will take care of this.”
“There’s too many,” said Meredith, her best friend, stating the obvious.
“No time to argue this. Do as I say. They need to leave, and they won’t unless you make them.”
Meredith nodded, knowing when to back off when Izzy was in a fighting mood. Izzy turned her attention back to the horde of demons, thinking they could very well be the death of her.
By the blessed light, I will go down fighting and no more demons will kill Cherubs on this morning. Stalking forward, armed with her Kita and the two knives strapped to either side of her legs, plus the dozen of holy vials cinched on the belt around her waist, she charged at the demons. For once she enjoyed their look of surprise.
Cherubs did not attack.
Guess they didn’t know she was different.
*
One week later
“Your actions have cast a black mark on your name. You were warned to stay out of this fight. For your disobedience and because you recruited your fellow Cherub sisters to join your independence movement, you will all be punished as an example. Disobeying heavenly decree, no matter what the motivation, is not accepted.”
She knew Raphael made his task showy when his pointed whip sliced through the air to punctuate the ending of each sentence. He spoke in pleb, the language of the lowest caste, further condemning Isabella by treating her like a commoner. His authoritative voice peppered through the pain that gripped her body. She gagged on the blood in her throat.
Biting the insides of her cheeks, she tasted her own blood, her own life essence. “We want to help. We can aid in this heavenly war. We are only striving to serve the greater good.” She ground out the words—a feeble attempt to reclaim a semblance of dignity. She wanted him and the Septuagint Council—the thirteen-member council that had ruled against them—to understand their desire to help.
The demons pounding on the heavenly gates were increasing in number, and their attacks into the heavenly realm had only grown more brazen over the recent months. To sit on the side and watch her brethren fall had been too much for Isabella. A gasp from one of her sisters forced her mind to the present. She almost wished it hadn’t.
“Order must be maintained. Your actions are causing discord.”
Raphael swept out his arm, forcing Isabella to look at her sisters. The black whip reminded her of a coiled snake slithering along behind him to exact her punishment. Standing clustered together, six of the seven Cherub angels, all novices like herself, faced the Septuagint Council.