The Forsaken by Renee Pace Page B

true feelings about the Mistress distressed him. A Cherub born, how could she so easily dismiss the mother of all Cherubs? A dark voice answered: the Mistress had dismissed her and left her and her sisters to fend for themselves in the wild of mankind. What did you expect? Nat’s devotion to his faith told him Isabella had to forgive herself before she could learn to love the path of light once again. She blamed herself for her fellow Cherubs’ exile when their own notions of free will had sealed the deal.
    For a moment, he tried to comprehend why they had done it. Taking up arms in the heavenly war for a female was unheard of and most certainly never a Cherub destiny. Cherubs were lovers. They did not wield steel to slay the demons that pounded on the heavenly gates and they most certainly did not charge into the frantic fray of battle.
    Izzy and her sisters had.
    The notion did not sit well with him because Nathanael knew firsthand the war they had fought had been brutal and bloody. His own younger brother had been killed in the last demon siege and the notion of Isabella fighting for her life like that boiled Nat’s blood.
    Nathanael had been young, but when factions had threatened his Seraphim royal house he’d taken up arms, as expected. And of course Lucifer had sent his demons to attempt to open the heavenly gates, which meant many angels within the royal houses started to think the war between the houses had been a diversion of sorts. As fast as the faction war had started, once the demons had been purged, it had ended.
    He worried Isabella’s sense of free will and devotion to independence might have caused her to stray too far from the path of light for her to recognize the peril of her journey.
    Nathanael marched through the recreational center and made eye contact with the owner and manager—the same male he’d barreled into when exiting Isabella’s apartment. In his confused and angry state, Nat had wrapped his hands around the man’s throat and lifted him off the ground without thought to his actions. It had been Isabella who had laid a quiet, restraining hand on his arm. Her voice, a temperate windstorm, rushed with words like, he’s just a friend, my business partner, nothing more. It had been the “nothing more” part that had saved the big man’s life.
    Tonight the man intercepted Nat.
    “She’s not here.” He folded his arms across his chest, his stance instantly warrior ready.
    Nat grinned at the man. “Where is she?”
    “Don’t know. After you left, she left too. Meredith told me not to worry…”
    Nat’s eyes narrowed. “But you do?” He looked at the human, understanding more of how the big guy felt. “Where is Meredith?”
    “In the…” the man coughed, “ah, in the prayer room, odd I know, but—”
    “Thank you,” Nat interrupted, giving a slight nod. “About the other night.”
    The guy moved closer. “Look, kid, between you and me, let’s forget it. But next time you lay a hand on me, I will knock you out without a thought.”
    Nat chuckled and embraced the man, clasping him wrist to wrist like a warrior, further startling the guy. “We fight the same fight, but you can’t defeat me. I’m not saying that to brag, but it’s the truth. I have gathered that you have watched over them, and I am indebted to you. I pledge by the purity of my soul if ever you have need of me I will bend to your will.”
    Nat bowed his head and then unclasped the man’s wrists.
    The man gave a curt nod and walked away mumbling. “Freaking odd, the lot of you.”
    The man, who looked to be in his early twenties, walked his own path of righteousness. That tidbit of information Nat had gleamed while tightening his hands around the man’s throat a couple nights ago. Seeing the worst, Nat prayed that someday the man would learn to open his heart to the path of light.
    Nat straightened, pushed back his shoulders, and marched behind the stage and out the back door to the brownstone. He