The Forsaken(10)

That’s the problem with Cherub culture. Everything for us is about serving them—Seraphim. Not going to happen!

A breath away from her, he stared openly at her shivering form. “You’re going to catch a cold. Are you always this irrational? It’s very annoying. I’ll wait outside for you to dress and then we will discuss all of this, civilly and in the proper way of things.”

No one had spoken to her like he just had in her entire life. Not one person. Izzy was so mad, she wanted to kill him where he stood. Lucky for him, he turned away from her, not bothering to wait for her assent. Why should he? He was Seraphim. He commanded and she was to obey. Loudly, Izzy huffed. Dream on!

A list of blasphemous words almost spewed off her tongue. Not wishing her entire body to be inked in Rashi script, Izzy bit her tongue and watched with pleasure when he strolled out of her bedroom. She hated the fact she admired his fine backside. Turning her task to finding more appropriate clothing, she yanked on her skinny jeans and a tight T-shirt. She pulled on her black hoodie as Gareth opened her window to slide into her room.

His stealth alarmed her. Any other person would be dead. Technically, Nathanael wasn’t human so the fact he’d dared to enter her sanctuary was partly acceptable. Gareth, on the other hand, knew her boundaries.

He grinned. The emerald green of his eyes sparkled with mischief. By the path of light, he disarmed her, and for a human male that was not a good thing.

“Surprised?”

“That’s an understatement. Why are you here, Gareth?” asked Izzy.

The door burst open, a blur of bulky speed moved through, and the next thing Izzy heard was a crash as Nathanael grasped Gareth and wrestled him to the floor. The dark gleam in Nathanael’s gray eyes as he rushed into her room looked deadly, and in that one condemning glance he reminded Izzy of his father, Raphael, the angel who had severed her wings. The onslaught of that most painful, most humiliating memory, caused her to pause. It took her a moment to realize Nathanael meant business. He pushed his knife deeper into Gareth’s neck. In their heavenly realm, if a male entered a Cherub’s sanctuary who wasn’t her soul mate, a quick death followed.

“Nathanael, get off him! You’re making a mistake.” Izzy made her feet move toward them.

Gareth had the good sense not to move a muscle, but his pissed-off look warned he sought blood. It was a look she had never witnessed on his boyishly charming face, and after two years of intense friendship she thought she’d seen all sides of him. She’d been wrong.

Nathanael gave her a cold look. “What? You know this…?”

She knew he struggled not to say human with the disgust and contempt a Seraphim felt. A few years ago when she’d fallen to Earth, alive, her body in the grips of agonizing pain, it had been humans who had tended to her wounds. Tender, caring hands worked their own miracles on her abused body. They’d had no words to aptly describe what they’d discovered on her back. They assumed she’d been mutilated but they were shocked her blood ran yellow. Izzy still felt to the marrow of her bones the kindness of those humans who had not asked a lot of questions, but who instead allowed her to heal. She’d shrugged off their psychiatrists who had looked for mind scars. What she had suffered could only be described as a soul wound—one that, to this day, had not healed. Two hard knobs of flesh still protruded from her back: reminders of her wings. She hadn’t let the plastic surgeon come near them, fleeing the moment her body had mended. Humans didn’t deserve the disparaging angels gave them. They were not all evil and not all had fallen far from H’uluan—the Garden of Eden.

“This is Gareth. He’s welcome among us.” Izzy kept her eyes trained on Nathanael, not daring a look in Gareth’s direction. She’d deal with him later—after the knife was removed from his throat.

With deliberate slowness, Nathanael moved the knife. Casually, he backed off, his bulk anchoring Gareth to the wooden floorboards. Gareth jumped to his feet and by the fierce expression on his face, Izzy knew all Hell was about to be let loose in her bedroom. She didn’t blame Gareth. Nathanael seemed to have that effect. However, as militarily prepared as Gareth might be, an even match to Nathanael, never. Angels were far superior in strength to humans. Izzy had discovered that firsthand when she’d encountered her first demon.

“Explain yourself,” commanded Nathanael.

“Who’s he talking to?” asked Gareth. “Cause I know that boy isn’t speaking to me. I was behaving, Izzy, but tell wacko to leave.”

“Wacko?”

“In case you haven’t figured that out, buddy, that’s you.” Gareth moved closer to Izzy, imposing his muscular body between her and Nathanael.

Izzy fought not to smile. “Enough. That’s enough from the two of you. I want you both to leave.”

“No frigging way am I leaving you alone with this pit bull.”

“What’s a pit bull?” asked Nathanael.

For a second Izzy wondered if Nathanael was having a hard time figuring out human culture. Bittersweet memories of assimilating into mankind’s culture had to be stored away for another time.

“It’s a dog, you moron.” Gareth stepped toward Nathanael and clenched his fists for show.

“This human dares to call me a dog? Isabella, I’ve had enough. Dismiss this man now. We need to talk. I am no longer inclined to play nice.”