Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series (11 page)

“Once the heartbeat is stopped, the soul is drawn
forth.”  I nearly giggled.

      Inappropriate, I know, but I
felt so damned good.  I just wanted to run and not look back, or twirl
slowly down the hallway, like the girls in those tampon commercials Gwen and I
always made fun of.  Instead, I got a lecture on Reaper Etiquette.
 And he almost touched my boob.  I sniggered. Couldn’t help it. 
Asher raised an eyebrow.  “Focus, girl.  I think you have been made
drunk by your first taste of power.”

     Drunk?  Not me.  “I’ve
never been drunk in my entire life.”  I grabbed his hands and yanked him
to his feet.  There was way more of him than there was of me. Damn, I was
strong.  Yay, me!  “Come on, do that blinky thing for me; I think I
kind of like it…ooh, can I see your wings?  They’re so pretty.”  I
bit my lip to shut my big mouth.  Distantly, I realized I was making a
huge ass of myself.  Maybe I was a tad tipsy.  If I remembered any of
this the next day, I would probably die of mortification.

     Asher’s smile was indulgent. 
“I really should have prepared you for this better.  The fault…”  I
heard the kitchen door open as my dad came in.  I shouldn’t have been able
to hear anything from that far away, but I could.  Creepy new ability,
yes, but it might come in handy, someday. 

     The refrigerator door opened and
closed. A can of soda popped open and fizzed merrily.  Dad’s keys jingled
as they hit the little basket next to the bill box, where he always kept them.
 There was a soft snick as the deadbolt was engaged on the backdoor.

     My eyes bugged out of my head when
I heard soft tread walking slowly up the stairs. “Oh, my god, what do I do with
you?  Quick, get under the bed,” I hissed at him.  Asher didn’t
budge, in spite of my best efforts to stuff him under my bed.  I was much
stronger than I should have been, but apparently if he didn’t want to move, he
wasn’t going to be moved.  Failing that, I tried backing him into my
closet, but he wasn’t having it.  “Damn it, he’s gonna catch you in here
and then I’m gonna be on house arrest till I’m eighty.  We have to hide
you!”  I tried to be quiet, and sort of whispered, but it came out about
as shrill as a tea kettle’s whistle.

     “Calm yourself, girl.  He
cannot see me.”  He stood calmly, watching me have a royal freak-out
moment.  A tiny smile played about his mouth.  God, but he had such a
pretty mouth.  Stop, breathe, and focus.  That didn’t help, and it
was painfully clear that he was enjoying this.  “I have been in here
before, remember?  Many times, in fact.  People see what they want to
see when they look at me.”  Briefly, I wondered if he’d been pulling a
peeping tom act on me.  I decided I’d better worry about that later. I
really didn’t want to know.  I was in danger at this moment; my dad would
kill me dead if he caught Asher with me.

    Panic washed through me, taking all my
feel-goods with it.  Nothing sobers a teenaged girl up faster than being
caught with a guy in her room.  Nothing. All those good, fuzzy feelings
were being washed away in the ice water of fear.  I was so dead if my dad caught
a guy in my room.  Any guy, but this one looked like every daddy’s worst
nightmare.  I didn’t think my dad would give me a chance to explain that
Asher wasn’t some evil, pervert, cradle robber.  I didn’t think so, at
least.  Although the alternative explanation was too unbelievable. 
Asher was Death.  Yep.  Death.  The Big Bad; everybody’s worst
nightmare.  Oh, Hell.

     Isabel’s eyes grew wide and
panicked as her father trudged slowly up the stairs.  He had been
exhausted for days; a direct side effect of her awakening abilities.  He
needed more rest, and less worry. 

     There was no real danger that I
would be caught in her room, but he might check to see why she paced back and
forth like a caged animal.  If he believed her asleep, however, he would
continue down the hallway to his own room, and turn in for the night.  All
I had to do was make it appear that all was secure for the night, and that
Isabel was safe in her bed like a good girl.

     Calmly, I crossed the room and turned
off the light in the bathroom.  I had no need of light.  My vision is
such that it adapts to any environment.  Even in complete darkness I can
see everything as plain as day.  It is a useful ability to have in my line
of work.

     I wondered if the girl might
hyperventilate, or worse, have a full-blown anxiety attack.  I pressed a
finger to her lips, reminding her to be still, then I took her hand and led her
to sit down on the edge of her bed.  She flinched a little as I leaned
across her to turn the lamp off; her breath came quicker, and her heartbeat
sped up, but she did not move away.

     The damned cat hissed as I sat down
next to her.  The cat and I needed to come to terms.  I was not going
anywhere, and apparently, neither was she.  She did not have to be so
smug, however.  I was willing to share her mistress with her, but I would
put up with only so much disrespect.

     I pressed my lips against the shell
of Isabel’s ear and whispered.  “Be calm.  He thinks you are
asleep.”  A chill ran through her at my touch.  Did she feel our
connection?  Or was it revulsion from being touched by Death? 
Monster that I am, I wasn’t sure that I cared.  I wanted to touch her, and
so, I would.  Not for the first time, I wished that I could read her
mind.  It would make this so much easier.

     There really was no need for me to
whisper.  No one could hear me but Isabel, but I found that I liked the
intimacy of being so near her, in the dark.  I liked the feel of her silky
skin against my cheek, and that light vanilla scent that clung to her was
mouthwatering.  I liked whispering to her in the dark.

     I wanted to slide my hands through
her dark hair, and twirl it around my fingers.  I had done it in the
haunted house; barely skimmed the length of her hair as she passed, and I had
thrilled at the way the curls seemed to cling to my hand.  Grim would be
in the floor laughing at the way I behaved with this girl.  I was well
aware that I was just shy of making a fool of myself, but I could not seem to help
it.  I had tried, really tried in the beginning, to abandon her.  She
was a liability to me, and possibly a weakness.  Still, I found myself
drawn back to her, time and time, again.  She held a fascination for me
that even I did not understand.

     Isabel found me beautiful, if the
looks she tried to hide were to tell me anything, but strange and frightening
also.  I could not blame her for that; I was strange and
frightening.  I was something foreign to her, and the humanity left to her
would instinctively fight me.  No mortal in their right mind intentionally
embraces death. 

      My patience was wearing thin,
yet I savored my time with her.  It had been an eternity since I had
wanted anything.  And I wanted this girl for myself.  I had to tread
carefully.  I could do this: be her friend and protector.  I did not
have to take, for if I did I would break the fragile soul that called so
sweetly to me.  She had to trust me, or she would never love me. 

     In the dark, her hand found mine
and squeezed.  The monster inside me smiled. We were in this
together.  Something cold and hard loosened in my chest.  I had never
known fear, but I found myself wondering if this was it.  I wrapped an arm
around her, reassuring her silently as I held her close to my side.

     Her father’s steps hesitated
outside of her door, but continued on after a breathless pause.  I felt
the breath she had been holding release in a rush.  She sagged against me
in relief and I felt her body shake with reaction.  It took but a moment
to realize she was giggling, instead of sobbing as I had feared.

     Curiosity bit at me.  “What is
so funny?”  Strange, mercurial girl; one moment she was terrified, the
next giggling happily.  I really could not follow all of her mood
swings.  Were all humans like this one?  I had spent eternity
harvesting souls, but I had never taken the time to get to know one.

     Isabel moved away from me, now that
the perceived danger had passed.  I did not care for the distance she
placed between us, but I could not force her to stay in close contact, if she
did not wish it.  “Nothing’s funny, really.”  Her voice came out in a
strained whisper.  “It’s just nerves, I guess.  My dad will kill both
of us if he catches you in here.”  She snorted at her unintentional
joke.  “Well, maybe he can’t kill you, but I’d be in danger for
sure.” 

     No, she would never be in danger of
Death.  I could assure her of that, but I thought she had taken enough
revelations for one evening.  Best to save the subject of her mortality
for another time.  There was, of course, the whole question of Fate and
what she would be up to.  I had little doubt she would spare her wrath,
for my sake.  Clotho and I had a history of bad blood. 

     “I will protect you from your
father and anyone else who would harm you.”  I kept my voice low, to match
hers.  It felt very intimate, speaking in whispers in the dark.  I
enjoyed it very much.

     “You know, I do believe you’d
try.”  She sounded bemused, as if she were thinking hard.  “But I really
think I should protect myself, if I can.”

     Ah, the modern woman.  Of
course she would want to do everything for herself.  I would humor her,
for as long as I could.

    Arguing her ability to take care of
herself would be pointless.  I decided that discretion really is the
better part of valor, and changed the subject.  “You have questions for
me?  Ask, and if I can answer them, I will.”

   Isabel’s eyes shined in the dim moonlight
filtering through her bedroom window.  She tucked her legs up under her as
she leaned against the headboard.  Nervously, she played with that long,
dark hair of hers; winding and unwinding the same curl around her index finger.
Thoughtfully, she finally asked the question most bothering her.  “Can you
tell me why everybody suddenly wants to kill me, Asher?”

     I considered how much to tell her
before I spoke.  “The short answer is that you are unique, and people fear
what they do not understand.  That also means supernatural beings, who
should know better.”

     “Like the Reaper?”  Her lovely
face scrunched up into a frown.  “Scary guy, by the way.  Way too
many fangs.”  I wanted to smooth that frown into a smile again.  She
was beautiful when her eyes lit up with her smile.

     “Samael, in his own foolish way,
means well.”

      “Excuse, me?”

     “Grim feels that my involvement
with you weakens me.”  I touched her hand in the dark, and delighted in
the vitality I felt there.  She grew stronger by the day.  Soon, she
would be a match for anything.  “He thinks that my position is weakened
with the others of our kind, and that the time I spend with you will throw the
world into chaos and upset the balance of souls.”

     “Um, no wonder he wants to get rid
of me.”  She rubbed her hands down her crossed arms as if she were
cold.  I reached for the throw blanket at the foot of her bed and covered
her with it.  “Thanks.  So, now that you mention it, who is taking
care of, um, uh, business while you’re here with me?”

     I smiled to myself.  The girl
was taking an interest; not terrified of me as I’d feared.  “Time and I
are old friends.  He lets me manipulate the time stream at will.  I
can be many places in a very short amount of time.  Also, you must remember,
there are many Reaper angels.  Death is everywhere, in one form or
another.”

     “This may be the weirdest
conversation anyone has ever had,” she mused.

     She surprised a laugh out of
me.  “If you think this is strange you should talk to Cronus,
sometime.  In his reality, past, present, and future are all happening at
once.  Grim once said of him that he is ‘bat shit crazy,’ and I can think
of no better way to put it.  His conversation is enough to give one a
headache, immortal or not.” Come to think of it, I wondered why Cronus had
never thought to prepare me for Isabel.  Surely, he had seen something of
our meeting?

     “It gives me a headache just
thinking about it.  Although, he sounds like a cool guy to know.  At
least he wouldn’t be boring.”  She yawned discreetly.  The poor thing
was worn out.  It had been a long night for her. 

     “Do you need to sleep, Isabel?”

     “No, I’m fine.  You can call
me Izzy, you know.  Everybody does.  Isabel sounds very formal, and
old.  They named me for my great-grandmother on my dad’s side.  I
don’t really know much about her, but I’ve never been in love with the
name.  I prefer Izzy.”

     “Izzy.”  Her nickname sounded
strange on my lips. “I will try to call you that, but you seem more of an
Isabel to me.  It is a beautiful name.  I like the way it feels on my
lips.”

     She made an odd little noise; half
giggle, half snort. “Fine.  Call me anything you want.” The girl cleared
her throat.  Had I somehow made her uncomfortable? “So what about the
other one wanting to kill me?  You mentioned Fate, earlier.  What’s
her deal?”

     Ah, Fate.  Her ‘deal’ was that
she was a cold hearted bitch who hated to be crossed. I had never shown the
proper interest, or deference, to her august position.  Eternity is a very
long time, and there is a reason for the saying about Hell having no fury like
a woman scorned. 

     “Greek mythology has Fate split
into three aspects; the Moirai.  Clotho: the spinner of the thread of
life. Lachesis: who measures a mortal lifespan.  And Atropos: she who cuts the
thread of life.”

     She sat up a little, wrapped her
arms around her knees as she listened to me.  “Go on, I’m following. 
There are three of them, though?”

     I shook my head, then realized that
she probably could not see the gesture in the dark.  “No.  There is
only one Fate.  People got it confused through the ages.  Like they
did with Samael, and I. We are supposed to be one and the same, yet we are
vastly different.”  She nodded, catching on quickly, as I knew she would.

     “Fate has a hand in everyone’s
life, but she is not omnipotent, nor is she Divine.  She likes to think
that she is, but she is not.  Human beings were given free will. 
Fate can only influence so much.”

     “She sounds like a charmer.” 
She cocked her head, listening for her father to settle in for the night. 
“I think my dad’s taking a shower.”

     “I should go so you can rest. 
We can finish this conversation later.”

     “Ok.”  She sounded uncertain,
and very young suddenly.  I wondered if the enormity of everything I had
shown her had caught up with her yet. She was young, and she was still mostly
human; I had done her a grave disservice.  I could not stop what was
coming for her.  However, I could prepare her for it.

      She nodded.  “Um, Asher…
thanks for helping me.”

     “It was my pleasure.  I will
stay close to you.  Sleep well, Isabel.” I cupped her cheek and ran my
thumb across her lips, then disappeared between one sharply indrawn breath and
the next.