Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series

by Sherri A. Wingler

  “Um, Alex, does this seem right to you?”

  “What?” He’d been fiddling with his cell phone, checking the time, probably. “Damn. Dead battery.”

  “Where is everybody?” I pointed around us. Nothing but fog and darkness and emptiness. I could barely make out the tops of a few really tall tombstones. The fog was so heavy it almost felt like mist against my skin.

  He looked as confused as I felt. “What the hell?”

  A deep voice started laughing from behind us. “Not quite Hell, but it will do, for now.” Demon clown walked out of the fog and I saw Alex start to bristle.

  “What’s going on?” Alex tried to remain calm, but there was something terribly wrong with this situation. The tension in the air was thicker than the fog. Things were about to get out of control.

  Then, the strangest thing happened. The clown started to melt. Literally. He melted like a freaking candle all the way to the ground. My mouth hung open. I had seen some weird stuff in this haunted house, but this was above and beyond strange. I almost wondered if they’d put some kind of air-borne drug in the fog machine juice; something to make us hallucinate.

  “Did you see that?” My voice came out in a whisper, so low I barely even heard it myself.

  “Yeah. Time to go, Izzy. Now. Run!” Alex grabbed me by my arm and started to run back the way we’d come. The puddle of clown goo started bubbling before we got past it. What came up out of that mess was even worse than a psycho clown.

  He was big and scary, for sure, with dark hair and almost black eyes. The teeth didn’t look quite as sharp, but I was pretty sure he could, and would, take a bite out of someone, given half a chance. The truly horrifying thing, though, was the wings. He came up out of that goo stark naked, covered in blood, and from his back rose enormous, black wings. Not those cute little cherub wings you see at Valentine’s Day on all of the Cupids. No, these things were huge; arching high above his head and stretching down almost to his bare feet. My mind went totally blank. I think I was too scared to scream.

  Luckily, Alex didn’t hesitate. His fist doubled up and he hit whatever the hell that thing was, right between its eyes.

  Chapter 7…Izzy

  The angel or demon or whatever he was, roared and went down when Alex hit him, but it bought us only a few seconds. I felt Alex’s hand between my shoulder blades, shoving me forward, urging me to run, even before I heard him screaming at me to haul ass. My father didn’t raise an idiot, and I didn’t need an engraved invitation. Whatever that thing was didn’t look like it had been part of the original haunted house. I may have been in mild shock, but those wings looked real. Which made running an awesome idea.

  My leg muscles burned and my lungs screamed as I ran. If I lived through the night, I swore I’d join a gym and get in better shape. Still, I somehow managed to outrun Alex, even though his legs were twice as long as mine. I doubled back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him along with me. I couldn’t see the exit anywhere. All I could see was the damned fog and it was only getting thicker. So thick, in fact, I was almost afraid to keep running for fear of taking a nosedive over one of the tombstones littering the cemetery.

  No sooner had I thought about tripping, than I did it. I kicked something in the fog with the toe of my sneaker and went flying forward, my heart in my throat. Crap, oh crap this was bad. I’d lost hold of Alex’s hand when I fell. Calling out to him seemed like a huge mistake with that thing coming after us. I lay stunned for a second on the wet grass, and tried to quiet my heavy breathing. My palms burned from where I landed against hard ground, and I was probably bleeding in a couple of different places.

  My heart beat so hard that I swear I could hear it. If I could hear it, I wondered if the monster chasing us could, as well. I got onto my hands and knees as quietly as I could, listening for any sign of Alex, or the thing coming for us. I heard quiet, careful steps coming up behind me and my heart stuttered with fear. Sweat prickled along my scalp, and I grew a little dizzy. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Better.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are! Pretty little abomination that you are; I won’t hurt you. Come to me and this will be as painless as possible, I promise.” His voice made chills run down my spine. He sounded almost happy, and crazy as hell.

  I stayed low to the ground and moved as quietly as I could, away from his voice. I was surprised to be as far away from him as I was. It didn’t seem possible. Hell, the thing following us wasn’t possible either; angel or demon, or a little of both. I stifled a nervous giggle. “What big wings you have…” Not a good time to crack up. I had to find Alex and get the hell out of Dodge.

  I moved slowly, feeling carefully along the ground, as I went. Ok, so think, Izzy. No weapon, no sign of Alex, no cell phone, nobody to hear you scream. Ooh, not a good thought, at all. All I had going for me was the fog acting as cover. So nothing much going in my favor. If I found a good-sized rock I might be able to bash him in the head, but it was a long shot.

  His steps came steadily towards me. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. It was almost like he herded me towards something. “Marco!” Seriously? The jackass wanted to play Marco/Polo with me? He almost sounded like he was bored. I really wished I had some way to kick his ass, if for nothing else than being a jerk. On the other hand, if he were still after me, then maybe Alex had a chance to get away. Unless he was lying helpless and unconscious. The thought made me sick, and I tamped it down quickly. Thinking like that wouldn’t help.

  I felt a change in the air around me a split second before the large hand came down and covered my mouth. I started to fight, to bite, but then that scent hit me. Leather and spice. I went utterly still, my hand still wrapped tightly around the wrist holding me. I was afraid to turn around, afraid to breathe. I was pulled up against a broad chest and just the barest whisper tickled my ear. “Do not be afraid.”

  Oh. My. God. I knew that voice. I knew those words. It took nothing and I was back at my wreck, terrified and alone, and then that voice, comforting me. It was too much. My heart literally stopped and the next beat it took felt like someone punched me in the chest. In that moment, it didn’t matter that I was being chased by a monster, or that Alex was missing, and we were about to be killed. I wasn’t crazy. I turned around slowly, half afraid that he would disappear again. I looked up and it was him. Dark, storm-grey eyes, tousled blonde hair. My stalker. I’ve never been so relieved in my life.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but he pressed a finger to my lips to quiet me. Oh, yeah, there was a freaky big monster still running around wanting to kill me. How silly of me to forget. His big hand swallowed mine as he started to tug me along. I planted my feet and dragged him back. It surprised me that it had any effect on him at all; he was huge. “Alex.” I mouthed the word, trying to be as quiet as possible.

  He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “He is safe. I got him out.” And just like that, I believed him. Even though I had no real reason to. He grabbed my hand and took off at a steady run. Somehow I managed to keep up with him. Lord knows how, because running has never been my thing, and he moved fast.

  Warning bells went off in my head. Wasn’t it awfully convenient that he showed up right when we were about to be murdered? Sure he looked harmless…well not harmless at all, really. He looked kind of dangerous, in all honesty, but if he’d wanted to hurt me himself, he’d had every opportunity in the past few weeks. Still, was mindlessly following him a good idea? My heart beat a mile a minute and I shook as the adrenaline burned out of my system. My grandma used to say, “Better the devil one knows, than the witch one doesn’t.” I was beginning to understand what that meant.

  On one level, I must have trusted him. That spiced scent of leather was unmistakable and it had been with me constantly, since my wreck. He was definitely the guy I kept seeing so it was good to know I wasn’t going crazy. On the other hand, this whole thing could have been an elaborate Halloween prank gone terribly wrong. I remember
ed the black wings on the monster following us. They sure as hell looked real, but then really expensive props always look better than cheap ones.

  Speak of the devil. I heard him picking up speed behind us. He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky or quiet. It would only be a matter of minutes before he found us. My would-be rescuer stopped suddenly; I nearly ran into his broad back in the dark. Why were we stopping?

  He leaned down to whisper; his lips tickled my ear. God help me, but that smell he gave off was distracting, even under those circumstances. “I have to get you out of here.” He had a strange accent, it seemed to be a mix of several different languages. It was light, but also clear that English wasn’t his first language. “Do you trust me?”

  Now that was the question, wasn’t it? Did I? I had no doubt that he’d pulled me from my wreck. He’d saved me then. He was trying to save me now. “Yes.”

  One word from me, and he grabbed me. I started to protest, but the words caught in my throat as the black t-shirt shredded. Enormous black wings burst forth and snapped open at his back. What the hell? What was he? What had I gotten myself into?

  My mind went stunningly blank. I couldn’t even protest when he pulled me closer. “Hang onto me.” I felt air beneath my feet. Hang onto him? I would have crawled inside his skin, if I could have gotten away with it. I was terrified of heights. “Isabel, don’t look down.” Too late. I got a dizzying view of the cemetery from several stories up in the air. I buried my face in his throat and clung to him with everything I had, praying the whole time that he wouldn’t drop me. I was sure I was about to die of a heart attack. Or crap myself.

  Chapter 8…Asher

  I followed them through the haunted house, only slightly bored by all of the sound effects and cheap tricks. It was nothing like a truly haunted house, mind you, but it was not bad for an evening’s entertainment. I found myself on edge, possibly nervous. Would she accept me? Would she run from me? It was strange torment, but soon it would be over. I could finally let myself be known to her. I hoped to be able to see and touch her without hiding myself in the shadows, or making her believe I was a dream. A smile played on my lips. The anticipation was sweet to me.

  I had tried to come up with an easy plan to introduce myself to Isabel. This sham rescue was Grim’s idea, yet somehow he had managed to get himself attacked. Served him right. I should have never listened to him, but I could think of no better way.

  Isabel was changing quickly. She needed to understand where her new-found abilities came from, and she needed to learn to control them before something terrible happened. Her friend was not coming down with an illness, Isabel was literally draining the life from her, through casual contact. Actually showing her what I was from the beginning seemed like the best course, although I saw it going better than it had.

  In the past few weeks I had grown to know Isabel’s temperament a little. Just coming out and telling her I was Death would never work. A skeptic to the bone, she had to see to believe. Even then, I felt sure that she would argue the impossibility of it. So I would give her proof from the start. It seemed like the best course of action.

  I watched, fascinated, as Grim got knocked to the ground by the boy. I knew he was surprised more than hurt. He roared in anger and indignation. This was not turning out to be his evening. The nasty little trick he pulled with the spider earlier was not his finest moment, either. He should know better than to go around scaring young girls, just for fun. I should have stepped in sooner, but I felt he had it coming and I enjoyed the show.

  The proper thing, the sane thing, to do when you are attacked by a creature straight out of nightmare is to run. These two, however, apparently did not know the sensible thing to do in this situation. That stupid boy had to go on playing the hero. Something might have to be done with him, eventually. He spent most of his evening trying to touch Isabel; hold her hand, rub her shoulder. I wondered if he realized how indifferent she really was. She smiled at him, but her eyes did not light up as they should have.

  “Time to go, Izzy. Now. Run!” Well, attacking Grim was not very bright, but you could not fault his bravery. Common sense must have won out, because they did run, finally. Isabel could run like the wind, as it turned out. It almost took my breath away, in fact; she was small, but graceful, with a certain elegance to her movements.

  I stopped long enough to make sure Grim was alright. His eyes were red from more than the hit he had taken. His pupils were lit from within. He looked like he was about to make a harvest. I grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. He calmed down almost instantly. He had just had his ass handed to him by a teenaged boy. That had to sting a little. He grimaced; even he could appreciate the humor in that. Things had almost gotten out of hand. Samael was just supposed to scare them, then fly off with Isabel so I could “rescue” her. Only somehow things had gotten turned completely around and Grim was almost the one in need of rescue.

  I sighed. The evening was not a total loss. I could still salvage the situation. “I think you have had quite enough fun tonight, Grim.”

  “I was only getting warmed up.” He smiled that shark’s smile and I could see why he was such a nightmare, for some.

  “I have to go rescue Isabel and the boy before she kills them both by accident. Your services are no longer required, but thank you for the help.”

  Samael chuckled, all traces of his anger gone now. “Hang on. We have to make this look good. Give me a few minutes to chase them. Then you can rescue your girlfriend and I can be on my merry way. You owe me for this, by the way.” He fluffed his wings up and suddenly reminded me of a large rooster. I felt sure that he would not appreciate the comparison so I wisely kept my mouth shut. Inside, I smiled. I was having more fun with this than I should have.

  It took Grim very little time to terrorize the girl. He was frightening; he should have been, after centuries of practice. All black wings and blood-red eyes; he looked like a demon straight out of Hell. I caught the frantic rhythm of Isabel’s heart and followed it. She had fallen in her head-long rush to escape.

  It would have been more convenient to knock Isabel out, as her friend had already managed to do to himself, but I needed for her to see me as I really was. Like it or not, she was becoming something other, and there was much explaining to do.

  Chapter 9…Izzy

  Cold wind burned my face and made my eyes water. I clamped my lips shut against the scream I felt climbing into my throat. I had to be dreaming; no way in hell was any of this possible. We were not just chased by a crazed demon/angel. My stalker didn’t just break out an enormous pair of black wings. We definitely weren’t flying several miles above the small town I’d lived in all my life. And yet…my stomach dropped into my shoes when he took off with me. I was terrified of heights and his arms were all that kept me from falling to certain death. I promised myself a nice mental breakdown if I lived through it. In the very least, a nap. And chocolate. Definitely, some chocolate.

  It was frigid up there in the night sky, but the man holding me was putting out heat like a bonfire. It was almost enough to keep me from freezing to death. This had to be a dream. Yet I smelled that incredible scent of spiced leather everywhere now. I could feel the muscles of his broad back moving in time to those enormous dark wings. I could even taste the blood from the inside of my cheek; I’d bitten it to stop myself from screaming. If it was a dream it was incredibly realistic, and I really doubted my tired mind would put so much energy into an anxiety dream.

  Was the other guy following us? If he was, would he be able to catch us? Was Alex going to be ok? My mind raced along, a thousand miles a minute. I felt it when he started to descend and white terror seized me. We fell out of the sky at an incredible rate of speed. Peeing on myself seemed likely, but not very dignified. I took one tiny peek at the ground coming up to meet us and nearly threw up all over what was left of his shredded, black t-shirt. I realized that it really didn’t matter if the psycho chasing us found us or not. We were about to be flatten
ed like pancakes anyway. Strong arms tightened around me just as I started to panic. A sense of calm overtook me. Was he doing that? Calming me down? Hell, we were flying; I was willing to believe anything, at that point.

  Death was imminent, and then suddenly, it wasn’t. We stopped just short of impact with the ground; the giant wings held strong and steady against the cold wind buffeting us. I had no idea how long we’d been airborne, but the landing was flawless, and as gentle as it could be.

  I felt grass beneath my feet, and still I held onto him. I’m pretty sure it was just because I was still terrified and all my muscles had locked in place. Of course it was. “You are safe, girl. Open your eyes.” His accented voice was deep and dark and smooth like chocolate. I mentally cringed at that thought. I’d been reading way too many gothic romances lately.

  “Izzy. My name’s Izzy.” I sounded breathless. It took some effort to stop my teeth chattering from cold and fear. I peeled myself off of him and took a step back, looked around. We were in my own backyard. “Am I imagining this? Are you real?” The wings were gone, hidden away to wherever they went when he didn’t need them, I guessed. Neat trick; it must come in handy. You know, for when he wanted to pass for human.

  He grinned at me and my heart did a little leap into my throat. Stupid, I know, but I was having a bad night, so sue me. “You are not imagining this. I am Ashrael. You may call me Asher.” Then he made this strange, formal sort of bow in my direction. Somehow he pulled that off without making it look at all awkward. Asher. Got it.

  “Will the crazy guy follow us here?” I didn’t know if my dad was home yet, but I really didn’t want to explain a half-naked guy hanging around our property at odd hours of the night. Much less have some psycho try to kill us all if he followed us home.

  “Come inside, you are freezing.” He started to reach for my hand, but seemed to think better of it and pulled away. Instead, he made an elegant gesture with his hand, urging me to move along. “You have questions. I have answers.” I followed him up my back steps. I found the fake rock in the planter by the door that hid the spare house key, and let us in.