Her Black Wings (The Dark Amulet Series Book 1)

by A. J. Norris

  “That tickles…” He bolted upright.

  Gasping, Amalya covered her mouth with the palm of her hand.

  Elliott glanced back at her over his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

  “Your back is healed. The wounds have disappeared.”

  “What?” He felt what he could reach of the smooth skin on his back. Then her angel unraveled. He jumped to his feet and went for the heaviest thing in the room, the dressing bureau. Angels had the strength of twelve humans when they summoned their power, even without their wings. The oak cabinet lifted like it weighed no more than a brick. He hoisted the piece of furniture over his head, chucking it clear across the space and into the opposite wall. Clothes and wood fragments scattered. Several pieces of lumber spun across the floor, over the edge, and down the shaft.

  She ran after the splintered wood, shouting, “Look out below!” Just as she looked over the side, two wooden missiles struck the wing of an unsuspecting angel, hitting him on the meatiest section. His cries echoed. Without thinking, she dove after him. If she could just get below him…

  The injured angel tumbled through the air in a sort of somersault. She flapped her wings faster. The open mouths of the flats zipped past her, level after level.

  “Help!” she yelled, realizing she may not be able to catch him in time. Poofing didn’t work here.

  She pressed on, reaching her hands out. She made contact with an arm, but it slipped through her fingers and her heart sank.

  “Heeeelp!” Now she was further away from him but more determined than ever to save him.

  A few more flaps and she realized her wings created too much wind drag. She folded them close to her body, squeezing in for the least amount of resistance. Her speed increased. Reaching out again, she snagged the top crest of the injured wing. A shrill yelp made her cringe; she knew the pain he felt. But she had him. Wings would heal. Angels would go splat. Although it wasn’t clear on how dead an angel could actually get, especially after witnessing Joelle turn into light and vanish. Nonetheless, she could tell the angel in her grasp also wasn’t interested in finding out.

  With the angel now firmly in her grip, Amalya snapped her wings straight out creating a glider. The angel whimpered from the sudden jolt. They coasted in a spiral. The lobby came closer by the second.

  Two dark haired angels flanked her on each side. “Looks like you could use a hand,” the one on her right said.

  “Mind if we take over from here?”

  “Please, he’s in a lot of pain.” The weight was lifted, and she started weakening again. “We’ll take care of him.”

  “Thank you.” God, she was turning into a good person, except she didn’t know how to feel about it; pleased or scared shitless.

  Through the hurt angel’s anguish he said, “Thank…you.”

  Amalya resisted the urge to cry. So far she’d saved everyone’s life except the one that could save hers.

  The best thing for her to do was leave this realm and go find Brandon, but she couldn’t without seeing her angel first.

  When she reached Elliott, he was balled up and lying in the middle of the bed. After landing, she staggered through the land of destruction. A toothpick sized splinter stuck into the bottom of her big toe. “Gaaa!” She hobbled over to the bed to examine her foot, noticing again she was naked. She paled.

  Naked the whole rescue mission, you say? Nice.

  An inflectionless gravel-laden voice asked, “Why’d you come back?”

  She forgot the giant twig sticking out of her foot.

  “Lemme guess, you forgot something.”

  “No. I, I mean yes, I need some clothes, but that wasn’t the reason…”

  “Then why?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Oh, just grand. What do you think?”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, even if it is what you think of me.” She yanked the wooden pole out, too pissed to make a sound. Blood welled from the puncture wound. She stood and strode over to fetch some loose linen pants lying on the floor, limping with her toes off the ground. They were way too big and she had to roll them up. She tied another pair she found around her torso to cover her breasts.

  “Amalya, you can’t stay here. You’ll get sick.”

  “No kidding. I’m leaving. We’re done here. Our relationship is severed. Personally or whatever. Permanently. You’re off the hook.” She waited in silence hoping he would ask her to stay a little while longer or apologize. When he said nothing, she hobbled over to the only way out. She turned and glanced back at him as she spoke. “Oh and when you start to feel remorse, and you will, don’t try poofing to me. I don’t want your help.”

  I do. I do want your help, Elliott. Look at me…it might be the last time.

  Forcing herself not look at him one more time, she flew out of his life.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-SIX

  Elliott

  It took all of eight seconds before his remorse kicked in after Amalya departed. Elliott found himself curled into a ball, what Joelle referred to as the fetal position. The only thing he wasn’t doing was sucking his thumb, although he’d chewed his fingernails down to the quicks.

  “You’re beyond a moron. You’re a stupid moron.”

  The wingless angel twisted to get a look at who had interrupted his self-pitying. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “Joelle?” He bounced up, throwing his arms around his best friend.

  Joelle stepped back. “Yeah, of course it’s me. What did ya think, I was done harassing you?”

  “I thought, I don’t know…you were onto the next level and I’d never see you again.”

  “Oh, please. I’d miss you too much. And besides, I haven’t seen much of you in the last twenty years.” Joelle squatted at the edge of the pool.

  Elliott stood beside him and rubbed his face. “Not my fault.”

  “Remember you said that.” Joelle chuckled. He skimmed a finger across the surface of the water, dipped his hand in, scooped water, and doused his best friend.

  Elliott leaned over and pushed his friend off balance.

  “You mother—”

  Splash.

  Joelle came out of the water and yanked Elliott into the pool. Jumping up, he shoved Elliott under by the shoulders. The angels wrestled, each trying to keep the other one down, rolling each other over until one gained control. They surfaced laughing.

  Elliott wanted to hug the shit out of him. “I missed you, man. Don’t do that, again.”

  “Yeah, I love you too,” Joelle said. He spread his wings and shook. Drops of water splattered the pool’s surface.

  The feathers appeared a brighter white than Elliott remembered. Pain radiated from the center of his chest where he rubbed. A grimace distorted his features.

  Joelle quit chuckling, sobered. “Elliott, you just don’t get it.”

  “What don’t I get?”

  “She needs you. Reed didn’t beat you and you didn’t fail him. Or Deus. It’s the other way around.”

  “Why did you let yourself be stricken from the Earth?”

  “Why are you changing the subject?”

  “I’m not.” Elliott crossed his arms over his chest.

  Joelle stood and threw his hands up. “So Aba would think he had the upper hand. I wanted him to think he messed with your head.”

  “Why not just tell me?” Elliott smacked the water. His friend had lied, but why? They glowered at one another for a pregnant moment.

  “I didn’t know I was going to do that until he showed up. Besides, can’t I have a little fun? And don’t look at me like that…you know me better.” The angel folded his arms.

  “I hate you,” Elliott said. He got out of the tub made for twenty-five and dried his hair with a towel left at the edge of the pool.

  “Yeah, well, I’m used to it. Now let’s get back to you being a stupid moron.”

  “Fuck you.” Elliott wrapped the towel around his hips and tiptoe
d over the bureau debris searching for some pants, leaving behind a trail of wet puddles.

  “Uh uh. Anyway, Amalya needs help.”

  “So you do it.”

  “You know I can’t do that.” Joelle ran his fingers through his long hair. He sighed deeply. “You’re a real piece of work. What do you think is going to happen to her? She can’t do this on her own. What’s wrong with you?”

  After putting on a clean pair of baggy linen pants, Elliott faced his friend.

  Everything.

  “Nothing. She said she wants to help the soul on her own.”

  “You don’t love her then?”

  Not fair, you…

  “I love everyone! I’m an angel!”

  Or I was…

  “Gimme a break, you idiot. No one can possibly love every—”

  “Deus does!”

  Joelle’s booming laugher bounced off the walls. Elliott knew what he’d said was crap even as he spoke the words.

  He threw his head back and yowled. “Fuuuuck!”

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  Amalya

  How many Hazel Stevens could possibly exist? Amalya needed a phone and a lot of courage. She made it back through the double doors in the basement of Eternity. Immediately, her stomach felt less queasy and her strength returned. Max was right where he’d been, unfazed by her almost instant return.

  “Nice trip?”

  “How did you know I didn’t just go through and come right back?”

  He ambled away smirking. She wondered what he was thinking about, but given her disheveled appearance, it wasn’t difficult to figure out.

  Tanner looked up from the laptop. “You’re back, and so soon.”

  “Do you think I could borrow a phone?” she asked Tanner.

  “What’dya need?” The former mechanic/Guardian angel looked her up and down. Grinned. “You had sex.”

  “No,” she blushed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Uh huh…nice outfit. Anyway, why do you need a phone?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “You’re dead. How personal?”

  “Nice. I just need to find someone.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, I can tell you it isn’t a good idea.”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  The Guardian puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath. “I’ve been there. Dredging up the past will only get you reassigned.”

  “I’m not an angel. There is no reassignment in my future. I have no future.”

  “Amalya, who’s Hazel?”

  “I knew it! You angels can read minds, can’t you?”

  “Only some Guardians.”

  “‘Cuz he can’t fly, he gets to be special,” Max interjected from across the room. She hadn’t noticed him lounging in a puffy chair, seated sideways with his feet hanging over the arm, head back, staring at the ceiling.

  “As I was saying, sometimes I get to hear what I need to. Sorry if that doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Actually, I think I get it. Can we just hurry this up, please?”

  “Shit!” Tanner stood, knocking his chair over backward.

  Max glanced over nonchalantly. “Uh oh.”

  “What’s wrong with—” Amalya started to ask.

  “My annoying bartender is at it again, I gotta go.”

  “What about my—”

  Poof.

  “—niece?”

  Laughter came from Max’s direction. When she turned to glare at him, she felt the heat of his presence behind her.

  “I’m with him on this. You shouldn’t look up anyone from your past. However, I’ll help you because…I don’t know, maybe in your case it could be beneficial. And you know nothing about computers or the internet.”

  “I died in 1995. I know about computers and I’ve heard of the internet thing.”

  He chuckled, leaned over the keyboard, and hit a few keys. “Here, type her name then press ‘Enter’.”

  “I think I could have figured out to press ‘Enter’.”

  “I assume nothing.”

  After doing as instructed, the screen displayed the scrolling white pages results. Four Hazel Stevens’ were listed in Michigan, and only one lived in the area. The address was an apartment not far from Eternity.

  ***

  Amalya pushed her way around the revolving door of Hazel’s apartment building. She lived in a newer mid-rise on the north end of downtown Birmingham, an unfamiliar structure constructed after Amalya’s death.

  The décor inside the lobby had a 1920’s vibe. Green marble tile lined the floor. The concierge’s desk had an art deco feel, shiny wood and rounded corners with brass accents. Two mission style lamps sat on each end and a silver sculpture of an old plane took up space closer to one of the lamps. Near the elevator, two armless gray velvet chairs with wing-like backs were positioned on either side of a low circular table.

  A woman at the front desk looked up when she saw her. “Can I help you?”

  Amalya stared at the floor in front of the counter. “Um, yeah. I was hoping to see Hazel Stevens. Do you know if she’s—”

  “Let me see, I’ll buzz her. May I tell her who’s visiting?” The woman picked up a phone, putting it next to her ear.

  “A-Amalya.”

  Shit. What am I doing here?

  After a brief conversation the woman looked up. “She’ll be right down.”

  Halfway between the bank of elevators and the exit, Amalya contemplated whether she should wait for her niece or bolt. The woman sitting behind the desk eyeballed her. The staring, although most likely out of curiosity, bothered her. The exit looked tempting and she started toward the door then halted.

  No. You need to stay. Ding.

  Amalya ran.

  The revolving door spat her out onto the sidewalk. She paused for a moment to catch her breath. Just before reaching the corner, Hazel called her name. Running away seemed too rude, and poofing in front of the poor girl would jack her mind.

  Hazel jogged until there were only five feet between them. Amalya still had the urge to flee, although now wanted to know why the girl had followed her out there. Was it a desire to know why she’d stopped by and then ran away or was it more? Clearly, her sister had never shown Hazel any pictures of her aunt. Or had she…since their meeting at Eternity?

  They studied each other in silence.

  Amalya spoke first. “Do you know anyone named, Brandon Smith?”

  “No. I’ve never heard of him.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured. It was a long shot anyway.”

  Hazel pulled her head back slightly. “Is that why you came? To ask me about a guy?”

  Amalya actually didn’t know why she’d come. “Yes.” A car horn beeped. She clutched her heart. She took a step and stopped when Hazel didn't move. There wasn’t any danger.

  Stupid idiot.

  Hazel pulled out a picture from her rear jeans pocket and handed Amalya the matte print. “Is this why you came?”

  Amalya’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. Gazing out of the picture was her smiling high school junior year self, taken right before she dropped out. The smile had been forced. Awkward. She’d gone shopping with Genevieve for the top she’d worn on picture day. Her sister had picked out the ugly sweater. The fight they had in the middle of the department store over the damn thing was her own fault. She decided to wear the cardigan as an apology.

  “Amalya…is that you?” Hazel spoke as if she couldn’t believe the question came out of her mouth.

  “What?”

  “Is that—are you my…aunt? Is that even possible?”

  Amalya could see her niece trying to make sense of what she thought to be true. Tears developed in Amalya’s eyes as Hazel debated with herself whether or not she was crazy to make an assumption the woman standing less than ten feet away was her dead aunt.

  Implode. That’s what Amalya thought her head might do at any moment.

 
; “I was born Amalya Rivers,” she blurted.

  “Stop. This can’t be true—how—”

  “Better if I show you.” Amalya glanced around to make sure no one would see what she was about to do. Making a portion of her wings visible, she plucked a solid black feather and handed the plume to Hazel, who stood there gaping.

  “It’s black,” she said, smoothing the feather between her fingers.

  “I’m not an angel, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Her niece looked up. “W-what are you then?”

  Amalya shrugged. “Dead.”

  Hazel shook her head. “But I don’t get—”

  “How? I spent the last twenty years in Ne…Hell.” She stopped herself from saying Netherworld, because that realm was easier to explain using the term people were most familiar with. The girl didn’t need to know about the different realms.

  “Hell? Are y-you a-a…d-dark angel?”

  “Not an angel, dark or otherwise.” Yet she could fly and poof. Mmmm…

  “But you have wings…feathers…I saw the…”

  “Shhh.” They needed to get off the sidewalk and to someplace private. “Can we go back to your apartment? Do you live alone?”

  “No, but my roommate is out of town.”

  Amalya indicated Hazel lead them and she followed. They rode the elevator mutely. Once inside the studio flat, she did a full reveal of her silky wings. Her niece gasped when she expanded them completely. Amalya had to admit they were spectacular, shimmering in the sunlight, filtering in through the sheer curtains.

  “Wow, oh my God. They’re beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Amalya said. She was actually thanking someone for complimenting her wings. Wings. Elliott never told her that. Her chin quivered.

  No…I’m not going to cry.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I’m f-fine.” Folding her wings, she turned away.

  “No, you’re not, you’re crying.”

  When Hazel stepped closer, Amalya inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I’m fine.”