Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series

by Sherri A. Wingler

  Alex said something, and Gwen nudged me under the table with her toe to get my attention. She could read me so easily, and she knew when I was off in la-la land. I turned to Alex, and tried to look alert and interested in whatever he had in mind. He didn’t need to deal with my drama. “So, what did you have in mind?”

  He’d shredded the poor napkin. “Well, the Jack O’ Lantern festival starts this Friday. I wonder if you ladies might like to join me.”

  Gwen stopped her sandwich halfway to her mouth. “Let me get this straight—you want to take both of us? Won’t you be afraid people will talk? I don’t want to be part of your harem, lover boy.”

  Poor Alex turned beet red and choked on his ham sandwich. “Be nice, Gwen.” I thumped him dutifully on the back. He turned puppy dog eyes on me. Distantly, I wondered why I wasn’t more moved by the puppy dog eyes. I should have been. Any other girl would have been. I, on the other hand, found it kind of irritating. It was almost like he was trying to manipulate me. Nah, I thought, that was just me being a bitch.

  “Sure, Alex, we’d love to go with you. Gwen and I usually go, anyway.” His smile was so bright that it even lit up his eyes. I felt a pang in the region of my heart. What was wrong with me? I should be happy. The sweetest, smartest, cutest boy in school wanted to go out with me. So much so, he was willing to hang out with my ball-busting best friend. I should be happy. Instead, I kept thinking about a pair of storm-grey eyes, and I just wanted to burst into noisy, snotty sobs.

  ***

  “Madame Fatima knows all, she sees all, and she tells all!” A carnie paced back and forth in front of a large, striped tent, trying to drum up business for the travelling fortune teller. He was a short, round man, dressed up in vintage gypsy garb, right down to the heavy black moustache and fake gold tooth. At least, I hoped it was fake, for his sake.

  “Madame Fatima sounds like my kind of girl!” Gwen already had her wallet out of her purse. “How much is it,” she asked the gypsy.

  His grin widened, and he flashed his gold tooth. “For you, beautiful lady, I am free, or at least, reasonable.”

  Gwen was not amused. “Not for you, jackass. For the fortune teller?”

  He covered his heart with both of his hands and looked devastated. “You wound me, truly you do. However, if we must talk business, so be it. Madame Fatima, she will tell your past, your present, and your future. Cross her palm with gold, and the universe’s secrets are yours for the asking.” He spread his arms wide, for dramatic effect.

  “I already know my past, thanks.” She held her wallet up for emphasis. “All I have on me is cash; no gold. Take it, or leave it.”

  He held out an inviting hand, and swept a bow towards the entrance. “Cash is always welcome, and remember, should you change your mind, I am very reasonable, also.” He winked at her, even as she rolled her eyes at him.

  “I have a height requirement, which you don’t meet.” He didn’t seem to be even slightly offended. He probably didn’t meet a lot of women’s height requirements.

  “Gwen, you know this is a bunch of crap, right? Nobody can read the future.”

  I managed to get a disapproving scowl out of the gypsy. Awesome. Gwen pretty much called him short to his face, but I was the one who offended him. It figured. Guys made no sense to me. “That is not true, young lady. Madame Fatima knows all!”

  “Yeah, yeah, and she sees all, and she tells all.” I waved a hand to stop his spiel. “I got all that, but I still think it’s a load of crap.” I shrugged. Hey, to each their own. I’m a skeptic.

  Dark, gypsy eyes glittered knowingly, and for a moment I felt that I had just fallen into a trap. “Then, perhaps you should go first.” He swept the entrance flap back and waited for me to take his dare.

  “I’m not that interested in my future, but thanks anyway. I like to be surprised.” I started to step away, but Gwen nudged me with her elbow.

  “Go on, Iz. Where’s your sense of adventure? Alex won’t be back for a few minutes, and besides, it’s just for fun.” I started to tell her where she could put her sense of adventure, but she’d already shoved me inside the tent. I’d had more than enough adventure to last me a lifetime in the past few weeks.

  I’d hoped that Alex would pop back up; he’d just gone to get us some drinks, but maybe the lines were really long. Another peek over my shoulder showed no Alex. Just Gwen, grinning like a fool and waving me on. I was glad that one of us was having fun, at least. This was a bad idea, I could just feel it, deep in my gut.

  My view was sharply cut off by the tent flap coming down. I took a second to let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit tent. A few candle flames danced weakly in tiny votive holders around the edges of the perimeter. There was a small round table placed in the center of the tent, with a glowing crystal ball and a couple of candles in hurricane jars on the table to add extra light. It was a huge difference from the neon-lit midway, or even the walkways lit with literally thousands of jack o’ lanterns. Incense perfumed the air heavily, and it smelled like a really expensive candle shop. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it could get overwhelming pretty fast.

  “Well, don’t just stand there girl, come into the light. Let me have a look at you.” I turned around and practically ran into what could only be Madame Fatima. I stepped back quickly and grabbed at my racing heart. She’d scared the bejesus out of me. From the quick smile she flashed, I didn’t think it was by accident, either.

  Madame Fatima was a larger lady, only a couple of inches taller than me, but pleasantly plump. She had a wild head of perfectly coiled, orange curls held in place by a bright, purple scarf. Its ends trailed over her shoulder, and blended in with the many beaded necklaces she wore. She made a sort of tinkling sound when she moved, like a wind chime in constant motion. I watched her warily as she went to the small table, and motioned for me to come forward.

  She plopped down on a folding chair and wiggled around until she was comfortably settled. I cringed as the chair groaned under her. “Come along, girl, I can read nothing for you over there.”

  “I think this is a mistake. My friend,” I motioned back towards the entrance, “she’s your customer. She’s definitely the one you want.”

  “Oh, nonsense.” She made a ‘tsking’ sound and motioned me forward, again. “There are no such things as mistakes, only unexpected opportunities. Now, quit dilly-dallying and come over here. I’m not getting any younger, you know.” I don’t know what I had expected. Someone dark and mysterious? This round, bossy little woman reminded me of the next door neighbor we’d had when I was a little girl. They even kind of looked alike. Except the fortune teller didn’t seem to have a yappy little dog hanging around.

  I found myself moving towards her, against my better judgment. Gwen was right, I was being silly. What could it hurt? It was all just for fun. “So what do you do: read palms or gaze into your crystal ball, or something like that?” I dropped down into the folding chair and winced at the coldness. It was unseasonably warm for late October, but still not warm enough for a metal chair. If I weren’t careful, I’d have frostbite in some unfortunate places.

  “I do a bit of everything, dear. Now, give me your hand.” She reached across the table and took my hand with both of hers. Dozens of rings glittered on short, thick fingers. Bangles and beads jangled along both of her wrists. Her grip was gentle, but viselike, and her skin was hot, especially compared to mine. I started to pull my hand back. “Shhh, hush now, dearest, you’re in no danger from me.” Maybe she could read minds. “I just want to have a look at a few things, is all; just relax.”

  She ran her forefinger along my trapped palm, traced the lines and grooves on my hand as if she were studying a map. Sweat prickled along my scalp, in spite of the cool temperature, and my heart kicked up a notch. I cleared my throat. “Shouldn’t we discuss your fee?”

  Madame Fatima glanced up at me and winked. “For a skeptic such as yourself, I feel that I must prove my worth. Save your money until after we’re done.”


  “I’m really not that skeptical.” Eh, who was I trying to kid? I’m entirely that skeptical.

  She grinned at me knowingly, and flashed a chipped, yellow eyetooth. “I know more of your secrets than you do, child. When I say you are a skeptic, I am being most charitable.”

  I shrugged. “That’s no big secret. Body language will tell you that I’m not comfortable.”

  She cackled softly, as she pulled my hand closer to the light. “Aren’t you the clever one? Yes, body language tells me quite a bit about a person, but I have other tricks up my sleeve besides that one. Now, just relax. Business is slow tonight, so get comfortable.”

  Silence stretched out. She was quiet for so long, I began to get nervous. “So, do you see anything good?”

  “I wouldn’t say, ‘good,’ nor would I say, ‘bad.’” She turned my hand back and forth under the flickering candlelight. “I see several points of interest, but this only shows me part of the bigger picture.”

  “How about a hint?” I didn’t believe in fortune tellers, but curiosity is part of human nature. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t ready to give anything away, just yet.

  “Well, for one thing, your love life is a mess.”

  I snorted. “My love life is non-existent.” Unless you counted a couple of dates with Alex, which I really didn’t. Unexpectedly, Asher’s face flashed through my mind. Asher who hadn’t put in an appearance for days; not since he’d tried to brain-wash me. I hated the disappointment I felt. Hated that I missed him. He’d ditched me; he didn’t deserve to be missed. Jackass.

  “Really? A teenaged girl with no interest in her love life? I’ve really seen everything, now.” She let go of my hand and watched me with shrewd, dark eyes. “Let’s see, then.” What did that mean? I should know if my love life were a mess, if anyone did. I’d say it was pretty much non-existent.

  She reached inside the bright, yellow vest she wore over her blood-red maxi dress and drew out a large deck of tarot cards. She handed them across the table to me. “Here, cut the cards, if you please, then hand the deck back to me.” The cards were pretty; elaborately designed, and cool to the touch. They seemed to hum with an energy all of their own. It was a strange to me. I could feel the energy in living things, now, but this was entirely a new sensation for me. I felt silly, but I did as I was told; I cut the cards half a dozen times and slid them across the table to her.

  “Now, I will spread the cards, and when I do, I want you to pick three cards at random. These cards represent your past, present, and future.” Oh, good, so no pressure.

  The cards fanned out in front of me rapidly, and smoothly. The golden backs glinted with strange whorls and designs that seemed to move by themselves. That had to be a trick of the flickering candlelight… didn’t it? I didn’t give it much thought; just pulled three random cards and left them separated from the deck, face down in front of the fortune teller. I didn’t believe in this stuff, anyway.

  The pseudo-gypsy passed her hand over the cards I selected, and very carefully flipped the first card over with the tip of her ruby-red nail. “Now, this is interesting,” she said as she tapped the card. “This is the Tower. This represents your past.” I stared at a picture of a tower engulfed in flames, with lightning striking from above, and people falling through the air, presumably after they’d jumped. Talk about getting out of the frying pan and into the fire. The longer I stared at it, the more real the picture seemed to become. The flames licking the tower looked like they were dancing and spreading. I blinked hard, several times, and looked away as I took a deep breath.

  “Ok, I’ll bite; what’s it mean?” She watched me closely.

  Again, she tapped her nail against the tower card, for emphasis. “Turned this way, upright, it means upheaval and change.”

  “That’s not so hard to figure out; I’m graduating this year and starting college in the fall. There is my change. I didn’t need a fortune teller, after all.”

  “Not so fast, this card represents your past, remember? It can also mean disaster, or a revelation. Have you had any revelations?”

  Any recent revelations or disasters? Oh, hell, where did I even begin? I almost laughed, right in her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me? You’re the psychic, here; not me.” I don’t believe in psychics, but she was hitting awfully close to home.

  She snorted. “Lord, but I do love a cynic. Alright, just wait, little doubter. It all has to be looked at as a whole. Let’s see what the next card says.”

  She flipped the next card. A man and a woman stood beside two trees. Above them hovered an angel, wings outspread. “The Lovers?” I’d cheated and read the bottom of the card. “You must be joking?”

  Madame Fatima cackled. “This represents your present situation. Don’t worry; I can see you are a very practical young lady. No fairytale romance for you.” No kidding; that was already painfully obvious. Prince Charming was an asshole. An over-bearing, blonde-headed asshole.

  “So what does it mean?”

  She straightened up when she caught me glaring at her. “It really isn’t about ‘he loves me, he loves me not,’ you know. Most people think that, but they’re wrong. No, this card, it means choice. Your choice. It can, of course mean that you will meet a tall, dark stranger.” She locked her eyes on mine. “Or have you already met a tall, dark stranger? Or a tall, blond stranger, perhaps? Hmm?” I had the uneasy feeling that Madame Fatima knew way more about me than she was letting on. She looked human enough, but that didn’t mean much. Was this some kind of a trap?

  I sat back in my chair, suddenly uncomfortable, and crossed my arms over my chest. “Nope. I haven’t. Try again.”

  “Alright, let’s see what the last card has to say, then we can figure out what they’re trying to tell you.” The last card was turned, only to reveal a skeletal figure in dark armor. Death. I didn’t need a fortune teller to tell me what this card was. In the skeleton’s hand was a flag; a white rose set on a black field. Behind the figure of Death was a rising sun. I went cold all over and a strange buzzing started in my ears. It was a trap. It just hadn’t snapped shut on me, yet.

  I wet my lips, carefully. I needed to get away from her. “I think we’re about done here. How much do I owe you?”

  “You’re white as a ghost, dear. Now, don’t go getting all upset. This is the Death card, true, but it too, has several meanings. It can, of course, mean actual death, but usually it signifies an ending of things.”

  “I’m not upset.” My card reading came up with disaster, a choice, and an ending. So, not much to worry about, there. I just kept staring at the cards of the Lovers and Death. Death and the Lovers… “This is my future card, right?” I pointed to the skeleton card, and she nodded. “Well, I guess Death is everyone’s eventual future, isn’t it?”

  “Not necessarily. I think we should look a little deeper.” She reached past the cards. “Give me your hand, again.” I started to pull away, but she’d already snagged my hand. She flipped it over, palm up. “I see that you’ve been losing sleep. You’re a little bit depressed, also.”

  “You can tell that by looking at my palm?”

  She snorted. “No, I can tell that by looking at the big, dark circles under your eyes. A little make-up wouldn’t kill you, you know.” I began to pull my hand back; at first, she’d scared me, but now she was starting to aggravate me. “Not so fast, little skeptic.”

  “I’ve had about enough. How much do I owe you?”

  The fortune teller continued, as if I hadn’t said a word. “There’s a sadness about you. It’s there in your eyes, which lack a certain sparkle. And it’s there in your mouth, all drawn and tight. Everything is just off a little bit, isn’t it?” She watched me with sharp eyes. I wasn’t about to tell her she was right. She was the psychic, let her figure it out.

  I was reasonably sure that this was a trap, but she didn’t seem to be ready to drop the disguise. She was giving me a headache, although maybe it was all of the incense smoke, inst
ead of just the stress of the situation. Whatever the reason, my head had started to throb. It was a migraine for sure, and it had sneaked up on me. I didn’t even feel it coming on until I could feel my heartbeat drumming behind my eyes.

  Madame Fatima said something, but I hadn’t been paying proper attention; I’d been looking for a possible exit. I glanced up quickly and had the strangest sensation of falling down the rabbit hole. For the barest, less-than-a second, I saw behind the tricks. The frumpy little gypsy woman was replaced by a man. A big man with coal-dark hair, and eyes as black as treachery. He watched me coolly, expectantly. I knew him: Grim.

  I blinked hard, and rubbed at my eyes. Madame Fatima was still there, watching me with bright blue eyes, and a knowing smile. “You aren’t what you seem, are you,” I asked her, carefully. My heart did a drum roll in my chest. Where there was Grim, there was usually Asher.

  “No, dear, I’m not. A lot of people aren’t what they seem, I’m afraid. You, for instance; there’s much more to you than meets the eye.”

  I heard a scuffle outside the tent flap and jerked back in my seat. Alex was out there, now. I could hear him. I also heard Gwen’s voice, and it was raised in anger. “Time’s up. I really have to go.” I drew a twenty dollar bill from my pocket and laid it on the table. “Um, just keep the change.” I stood up so fast that the metal chair tipped and started to fall over. Amazingly, quick as lightning, she was there to catch it. I flinched at the sudden movement. If I hadn’t known her for what she really was, I would have been amazed that she could move like that.

  The Reaper reached for me slowly, like he might spook me into running, and he placed a large, warm hand on either side of my head. I couldn’t have run if the tent had caught fire. My body felt like it had been turned to concrete, and freshly melted snow ran through my veins in place of blood. “Now, little human, I would love to continue our conversation, but you’re right. Our time is up, and I have somewhere I need to be.” His voice deepened roughly, “And you have some things that you need to remember.”