The Forsaken(26)

“What?”

Keeping her head lowered, Shea rushed on with her words. “Isabella said her father sang to her mother whenever she felt sick. She said it had made her mother feel better.”

Nat noticed the tense of her sentence. He’d had no idea Isabella’s mother was no longer with them and again Nat questioned why he didn’t search out more information about his intended. It was also becoming clear to him that none of the Cherubs felt like they’d ever get the chance to go home again. And without Isabella, they truly would be lost.

“And did it?” asked Meredith, clearly as astonished at Nat.

Shea nodded. “What can it hurt?”

The sum of it had been said. Isabella had lost so much blood, Nathanael knew only a miracle would keep her tethered to them. If that miracle could by chance be his off-key voice, he’d swallow what pride he had, and sing his heart to the rafters.

“I will do it. I ask you all to pray for us,” he said. Muttering under his breath he added, “Cover your blessed ears.”

Meredith smiled sadly and Shea nodded, leading the other sisters to the prayer room. Nathanael removed his dirty shoes and socks, before walking barefoot into Isabella’s bedroom, her sanctuary. A blessed red candle sat in each corner of the bedroom to honor the Heavenly Mistress and to act as a beacon to guide her help. Incense burned in a small gold holder, the smell light and flowery.

Isabella shivered violently in the bed. Nat reached out and touched her sweaty forehead, expecting it to be burning hot. It was the opposite—ice cold—she shivered in the throes of a raging fever. It seemed she fought her inner demons, the ones that dared to take her away from him. Not knowing fully what to do, Nat quickly made a heart-wrenching decision. He crawled under the covers, drew her shivering form, clad in a simple shift, to his and started to sing, hoping his prayer-song worked a miracle. To hold his ordained heavenly wife in his arms was a true blessing, but knowing this could be the one and only time…not so much.

*

Meredith felt worn out. The last few days had been dizzy with the rediscovery of her faith and the belief the Mistress would change her mind. Meredith held fast to that, but the worry she’d felt for Isabella, knowing she fought the demons on her own made her mad. Meredith, like Izzy, could easily wield a weapon to slay a demon. They’d both taken up arms after watching demons slay their mothers. Together, they had sneaked from their rooms at night to meet up with the one Seraphim who had said he’d help. A Seraphim Meredith never wanted to see again. He’d treated them like an equal and it had been the first inkling for Meredith that there was more to her preordained Cherub life. And when the battle raged again in the heavens, Meredith hadn’t hesitated to slay demons. The fact she’d enjoyed killing them had made her seek more prayer time, but it hadn’t deterred her.

A soft rasp on her door startled Meredith. She knew instinctively it was Gareth. A nervous flutter started in her stomach and she tried hard to ignore it. Meredith opened the door wide, allowing him to enter her sanctuary. She didn’t want Gareth to see her worry or tear-stained face, so she turned her back to him and moved to sit on the edge of her bed.

Gareth slowly moved closer to the bed. “Meredith, what happened?”

Meredith composed herself and then turned her face so she could look up at him. He was so handsome, so inviting, so needing someone to love, and a part she tried hard to ignore yearned for him. The realization she had a crush on him caused her to falter. She had no right to be involved with him, or any human. She was damaged goods, exiled, and it was best for all for her to remember that. “I know I said I could help you, Gareth, but tonight…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t need your help.”

Meredith knew Gareth lied, and even though her room was dark, she could make out his fidgeting hands.

“What happened?” he asked again, gently.

Meredith noticed how he kept standing, his feet braced apart like a warrior, ready to do battle when the war he waged was one deep within him. Meredith patted the spot on her bed, urging Gareth from his warrior-stance to sit beside her. She didn’t like looking up at him. He reminded her too much of the Seraphim who had taught her how to use morning stars and a sword. Worse, she knew if she asked Gareth to show her how to use his modern-day weapons, he wouldn’t hesitate. For a second, Meredith wondered why Izzy never went that route to fight the demons. Gareth would be delighted to teach her how to use weapons, but not once had Izzy asked. Mentally, Meredith made a note to investigate that.

“Izzy…”

“What about Izzy?” asked Gareth, carefully taking the spot next to her on the bed. Never in her wildest dreams had Meredith ever thought she’d have a human male sitting next to her in such an intimate setting.

Feeling bold, Meredith tentatively touched his arm. She felt the pull of him race through her body and fought for control. He looked at her, long and hard, speaking volumes with his dark brown eyes.

Slowly she took his hand, caressing his thumb in the process. “I’m not sure about Izzy. We tried everything. We sang to her all night—”

“What the Hell, Meredith? What are you saying?”

Meredith smiled. “You shouldn’t swear.”

“Don’t change the subject. Why on Earth would you sing to Izzy? Are you telling me she’s hurt?”

Meredith’s hand tightened on his arm, drawing him closer. For the first time that day, Meredith worried about her appearance. She almost wished she’d taken the time to brush her hair, but she’d been too preoccupied dealing with the crisis to care. Now she did. He, Gareth, made her want to look pretty.