The Forsaken(18)

“Who dared to mar thee like this?”

She thought it funny he slipped back to scripture when flustered. She always did the opposite. Pleb, more like common English slang, she liked a lot more.

His raw shout touched her heart. Her first thought, he truly did care. The second, his outrage originated because his Cherub, the one he thought perfect was more than flawed—she was mutilated.

A hurt chuckle flew forth. “Why, Nathanael, I do believe you know the angel who did this to me. His name is Raphael. Your father.”

She made a move to knee him in the privates but he anticipated her action and rolled off her and let her go.

“You lie,” he stated, looking confused and hurt, standing at the edge of her bed to look at her.

“To you never. Now leave me.”

He ran an agitated hand through is hair. “This can’t be. You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have barged in. I will leave. We will discuss things later.”

“We have nothing to discuss, Nathanael. And you saw the evidence with your own eyes. If you don’t believe it ask your darling father.”



The holy wave of script that scrolled around her thighs made him almost wish for ignorance. She was anything but Cherub-looking. Worse, he liked the way she looked more than he ever thought possible. Everything about Isabella was inherently different—her attitude, her courage, her mannerisms, and even her body. Nothing about his so-called simple assignment to rescue his Cherub was as it should be.

The door burst opened and a young Cherub ran in, one Nathanael hadn’t seen before. He noticed fear in her eyes and tears marked her cheeks.

Izzy raised her head up and instantly tried to soothe the young Cherub.

“Everything’s okay, Anya. There is nothing to fear here,” said Isabella, giving him a hard push out of the way as she moved off the bed, careful to drape the blanket tightly around her.

She immediately went to the distraught Cherub. This Cherub—who couldn’t look him in the eyes, but dutifully kept staring at the ground—made him realize he didn’t know a lot about the other sisters who had been forced into exile.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled,” he said. “To say I was shocked is a heavenly mistake. I—”

Isabella hugged the visibly shaking Cherub she had called Anya. She sliced him a damning look. “No need to explain, Nathanael. I know I’m not perfect.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. No one is perfect, especially me. I was shocked that your exile had been so brutal. I thought that because you are…”

“You thought because I’m Cherub, a mere female, they would take it easy on me. I thought that at first, too. Sadly, as you now know, that wasn’t the case. I bear these scars with pride though because I saved the wings of my fellow Cherubs. We might all be together in this exile, but we have survived and will continue to endure.”

Anya hiccupped on a sob.

“This is Anya, my blood sister. She is sixteen.”

Now Nat gasped. Sixteen—a mere babe—a novice who had been tossed to the wilds of mankind, and Isabella’s sister by birth. The knowledge shocked him. Nat realized he should have prepared more for his so-called rescue mission. Every time he was with Isabella, he felt like he was free-falling to Earth and often felt like he was the one in need of rescuing, rather than the other way around.

“When we were exiled, it took us a while to find each other,” said Isabella in her matter-of-fact voice, while she soothed her sister. She used her healing voice to comfort her sister while her hands lovingly stroked Anya’s back.

Nat moved in slow motion, fearful of causing Anya anymore distress. “Isabella, are you telling me that you all landed in different places?” He rested against Isabella’s bedroom wall. He needed to feel something solid because everything he learned shook the foundation of his beliefs.

She nodded. “Yeah, but we at least all landed in the United States. I found most of my fellow Cherubs within months, but Anya here, took me longer. Left in the hands of mankind, she did not fare well. Oh, don’t mistake me, she’s physically unharmed—but some scars are deeper and more permanent. Shh, it’s okay, Anya. Nathanael needs to know. I have a feeling his stay with us is going to be longer than he anticipated.”

Isabella took the time to tease him with a light smile. This Cherub was a warrior. A brave female. The mother to all her fellow Cherubs, she would and had fought for them. Nat’s knees grew shaky. He had thought to remove her from them when she was their foundation key, keeping them strong, allowing them to prosper, to survive.

What right do I have to take her from them? The question caught him off guard. His fear must have shown in his eyes because Isabella, still soothing Anya with the comfort of her soft humming and gentle hand on her back, glared at him.

Nat ran agitated hands through his bristly hair. “I had no idea. We all assumed you were safe in the comfort of the Cherub safe houses. To think of the struggle you all must have endured and still endure, I can only say with regret that…my ignorance has not helped my cause.”

“Ah, yes, your cause. I believe you stated that when you first arrived. As you see now, that’s impossible. I’m sure you can petition the Mistress to secure you another Cherub. Trust me, I won’t mind. Come, Anya, let us take you back to your sanctuary. This Seraphim is done with us for the night and with any luck, he’ll be gone for good.”