“You look lovely, Isabel.” His voice was warm, approving. I capped the bottle of polish tightly, and put it back in the drawer.
“Thank you. What are you up to, this fine evening, Asher?” I blew on my nails, and avoided looking up at him.
“We need to talk.” Those may be the four most frightening words in the English language. They usually translate to, ‘You need to sit and listen while I tell you, in great detail, all the ways you are screwing up’.
“Keep your voice down. Gwen’s getting dressed in the other room,” I whispered it, remembering too late, that I should have been keeping my voice down.
“I heard that,” came Gwen’s muffled voice, through the bathroom door.
“Crap,” I muttered.
“I heard that, too,” she said as she sauntered out of the bathroom. She struggled to reach the button at the back of her dress that attached her wings. Her arm was contorted painfully over her head, and curses dripped from her lips like honey. She stopped a few feet from me, and looked directly at our unexpected visitor. “Hello. Asher, isn’t it? Have you come for the party?”
Asher didn’t look amused. “I came for Isabel.” He watched her fumbling attempts at fixing her wings. “And why, pray tell, do you still remember me? Grim was supposed to have fixed that.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared down his nose at her, impatiently waiting for an answer.
She struggled with the button a moment longer, before finally giving up. “Iz, a little help here? Button this damned thing for me, would you?” She gathered her hair up out of the way and waited patiently for me to fasten her sleeves to the dress. “As to why I still have my memories,” she said to Asher, “it’s probably got something to do with the fact that your buddy has a thing for blondes. Also, like I told him, who would believe me, anyway? Reapers? Angels? Nobody’s gonna believe that shit.”
My fingers hesitated, then I hurried up and finished. She had been talking to Grim? Was she insane? “Be careful of him, Gwen. He isn’t like Asher. I’m not sure whose side he’s on.”
“Relax, Iz. He’s not even my type.”
“Liar. He’s exactly your type. He’s completely wrong for you, has a mean streak a mile wide, and he’d give your parents hissy fits, if they knew about him.”
I stepped back as she raised her wings and twirled. She was gorgeous; a vision of white and gold. Her blonde hair hung loose down her back, and I thought she looked much more angelic than I did, though I guess that was the point. And she’d been talking to Grim. She was certifiably crazy.
Gwen stopped admiring herself in the mirror and gave me a long stare. She eyed Asher up and down, a lazy smile tugged at her lips and left a dimple to peep out. My heart dropped into my stomach. I knew that look; something bad was about to happen. And she would enjoy it.
“And would you like to explain to me why he is a good idea?” One hand was on her hip, and the other hand busily ticked off reasons why Asher was a bad choice. “He’s too old for you. His buddies all seem to want you dead. He makes bad decisions for you, or do I need to remind you that he tried to wipe your memory out, too?” She drew a deep breath, because she was only getting started. “Your cat doesn’t like him. You can’t take him out in public because people are scared shitless of him. Oh, and did I mention that he’s the freaking Angel of Death?” Her voice grew louder and shriller with every point she made.
Asher watched her, fascinated. She’d made some good points, but I was utterly mortified. Never, ever, have I been more humiliated. I wanted to duct tape her mouth shut, but I figured she could chew through it. Staples…staples would do the job.
“We aren’t talking about Asher,” I hissed. “We are talking about Grim.” It isn’t possible to die of humiliation, or I would have. Died right there, on the spot.
“Ladies,” Asher interrupted, “as much as I enjoy this little peek into ‘girl talk,’ I really am extremely busy.”
Gwen smirked, “If you need to go kill something, don’t let us stop you.”
I could’ve given him a suggestion, but I figured I’d miss her if he killed her. At least it would shut her up, though.
He chuckled easily, less horrified than I was at her little display. “I just need a moment with Isabel, if that would be alright?”
“Suit yourself.” Gwen had said what she needed to, and was winding down. You two could go stir the crock pots.”
“Fine. This will not take long. Oh, and Gwen,” she stopped picking through the contents of her make-up case, for a moment. She glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Isabel is right. Grim is not someone you should trifle with. He can be dangerous.” I watched in horror as her eyes lit up. Asher had just issued a challenge, and he didn’t even know that he’d done it.
“I’m not trifling with anybody, pretty boy.” The unspoken ‘yet’ hung heavily in the air between them. She closed the make-up case with a snap. “And if anyone is trifling with someone around here, it’s you, not me.” She nodded towards me. Was she trying to get herself killed? By me?
“I am not trifling with Isabel.” His face never changed expression, but an angry Asher and a happy Asher look pretty much the same way. I needed to get him away from Gwen before she managed to really piss him off.
“Come on.” I grabbed his hand and headed for the door. “I smell burnt cheese.”
***
“Your friend is much too arrogant for her own good.”
“Noted.” I grabbed a big, stirring spoon out of the dishwasher and lifted the lid on the crock pot. The aroma of sausage and cheese dip drifted up lazily and made my mouth water. “Your friend is a psychotic ego-maniac, by the way. He’s also way too arrogant.”
“The difference between them is that he can back his arrogance with might.”
“He’s still a jerk.” I stirred the queso dip and carefully avoided looking at him. Until he came up so close behind me that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He placed his hands on the countertop to either side of me, effectively trapping me between the counter and himself. It wasn’t a bad place to be caught, but it was dangerous for me.
“Um, Asher, what are you doing?” The butterflies in my stomach were going crazy, doing little dives and swoops. I jumped a little as he leaned down and rested his chin on my shoulder. Oh my, but he smelled so good. Even better than the cheese dip, in fact.
“I am watching you cook,” he murmured, next to my ear. I had serious trouble breathing.
I wet my lips and counted to ten, slowly. “Do you have to watch me this closely?”
“I do not have to, but I want to.” His nose brushed up against the shell of my ear and I nearly scalded myself with cheese dip, when my hand jerked. “I have given you space. I have given you time. And still you insist on putting distance between us.”
Good lord, help me. I didn’t want to put distance between us, but there was no choice. “This is a little too cozy. Back off.” I stuck my elbow in his ribs and gave a light shove. Might as well be shoving against a brick wall, for all the good it did me. He backed off, but on his terms, and only enough so I could turn around to face him. The view was better, but the circumstances weren’t.
“If you do not like being so close to me, then why does your heart speed up when I touch you?” The grey of his eyes was darkened, and fierce looking.
“Ever hear of the flight or fight response?” I half-joked.
“You are not afraid of me.” He could see straight through me.
“No,” I admitted, “I’m not afraid of you, but if I had any sense, I would be.” I was going to have to tell him about Fate, and her plans for him. For us.
What if I never saw him again? I felt sick at the thought. “Asher, I—“
The heavy beat of ‘The Monster Mash’ started up in the living room, interrupting me mid-thought. “Crap. You have to get out of here, before we get caught.”
Asher stepped away from me, just as the kitchen door swung open and Iron Man came strutting through. “Get caught doing
what, Izzy?” James had his helmet firmly in place, this time, and he’d finally found the visor and flipped it up so he could see out. He stopped a few feet from us. “Who is he?”
“He’s, um, my friend.” James could see Asher? I might have a full-fledged panic attack, soon.
He nodded to Asher. “Neat costume.” Hunh? What costume? Asher had on his usual black t-shirt and jeans. What did he see when he looked at Asher?
“Thank you, little Avenger. Your costume is neat, also,” he said, with a small smile. Asher had stepped away from me, but he’d kept a hand on my elbow; probably to keep me from sliding into the floor.
I was amazed. “Do not look so surprised,” he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I may be old, but I keep up on current events.”
“Do you guys need any help?”
I shook my head. There was a nervous giggle building up in my throat, just waiting to escape. “Nope. I think we have this under control, buddy.”
“Ok. I’ll go see if Mom needs anything, then. See ya!” He stole a cookie and took off towards the living room.
The door closed gently behind James and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “How? How can he see you? And what did he see? He wasn’t afraid of you?” I was talking to myself, more than to Asher, I realized. Seriously, though, how was it possible?
Asher shrugged in that non-committal way of his. “Children his age sometimes see me. It is rare, but it happens. He has not learned to fear the unknown, yet. To him, the shadows under his bed are more of a threat than I. As to what he saw when he looked at me, I cannot say.”
“That reminds me, I need to ask you about something.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“I need to know about the Sorrows. Is there anything that can be done to help them?”
“The Sorrows? Why do you ask?”
“There’s this little girl. Her name is Madeleine. I’ve seen her a couple of times, and I think she may be a Sorrow.” As I spoke, Asher’s expression turned from one of confusion to one of utter disbelief. “I think she may have died in an apartment fire, sometime early in the last century,” I rushed on.
“Isabel,” Asher quietly interrupted me, “the Sorrows, they know nothing. They remember nothing. That is why they wander, because they do not remember who they once were. They hold no hope for redemption; no hope to pass through each life and have the opportunity to become one with the Divine. Whatever you have seen, it is not a Sorrow, I promise you.”
I listened to him with disbelief. “No, Asher, you don’t understand. She remembers things. She understands things. She even recognized the Reaper who came for her. There was a little boy with her, but he’s gone now. She told me that something is hunting the ones like her.”
“Isabel, the Sorrows are mindless and nearly formless entities. Whatever she is, be cautious of her, for she is not what she claims to be.” His eyes were troubled. “Be very careful. You have a trusting, loyal nature. It is one of the things I value most about you, but with that trusting nature comes a certain naiveté. You want to believe the best in everyone, but not everyone is what they seem to be.” Trusting nature? Me? He hadn’t been paying attention, if he believed that about me.
“She asked me to help her. If there was something wrong with her, something bad, would she be able to do that?”
“A demon would. It would play upon your sympathy until it gained your trust, and then it would use that to its advantage, and attack.”
“A demon? You can’t be serious.” There had to be another explanation. Madeleine was something other-worldly, certainly, but I sensed no evil in her. “It makes no sense. She had an opportunity, already; I’ve spent time with her, alone. If she were a demon, then why wouldn’t she just go ahead and attack me?”
“Because you are very strong, now. Much stronger than you know, and more than I ever dared hope.” He took both of my hands and cupped them in his. “Watch, and I will show you.”
I gasped as the power of his Will flooded me. It moved inside of me like liquid gold, calling to the blood, and searching for the power that was its match. Our hands began to glow softly where they met and touched. The radiance spread into our fingers, coalescing into a sphere of light as perfectly formed as a soap bubble. Silver and gold played together on its surface, blending and separating in a dizzying display. It was the strangest and most beautiful thing that I had ever seen.
“What on Earth is this?” My voice came out as little more than a whisper.
“Nothing of this Earth. That, my Isabel, is magic. A meshing of Will.”
“It’s beautiful.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It looked like it held a life of its own.
“Yes, it is, and it is rare. I could not do this with anyone but you.”
“Could not, or would not,” I asked, distracted by the dazzling display. It was fascinating; a physical manifestation of Will. It looked so fragile, but this was the power of life and death, and I held it in the palm of my hand. I hardly dared breathe.
“Both,” he answered. “I could not share this with another because no one else could withstand it. You are perfectly made to hold my power.” I glanced up at his warm tone. Big mistake. His eyes burned brightly as he watched me. “I would not share this with anyone else because you are my chosen one.”
“You hold Ashrael’s heart in your miserable, mortal hands. I want it crushed.” Fate’s words echoed inside my head. Such horrible feelings of guilt and anger flooded me that I jerked my hands away from his, breaking the contact and the fragile magic that bound us. The bubble shattered and disappeared as I dropped my arms to my sides.
Asher lowered his hands slowly, startled by my violent withdrawal. “What is it?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and took a step back from him. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything is far from fine.”
“Just drop it, Asher.”
“You are keeping something from me. I feel it.”
So this was it: the moment to spill my guts and tell him everything… and I was at a loss for how to even begin. I bit my lip and cleared my throat. I started to tell him, I really did, but I was totally unprepared.
The whole story, in all its ugly truth was just right there, on the tip of my tongue, waiting to spew out. And yet, my suddenly dry mouth remained stubbornly mute. I had to tell him, but telling him meant losing him.
Gwen saved me from answering him. I was beyond happy to see her. She rushed into the kitchen carrying a wad of black material slung carelessly over her arm. “Here, throw this over your head, and be quick about it.” She tossed it at Asher and in the confusion, he actually caught it.
“What is it?” He didn’t look happy to be interrupted, but at least he wasn’t going to throw her out of her own kitchen.
“It’s a costume. Now, put it on before my parents come in here and see Izzy talking to herself.” She glanced back towards the living room, and danced from foot to foot on impossibly tall wedges. They put her at well over six feet tall. “Look, I’m sorry I was such a bitch, earlier. You’re important to Izzy, and I would like it if you stayed.”
Asher unfurled the costume and held it out at arm’s length, eyeing it skeptically. One corner of his mouth turned up and a short laugh escaped, almost against his will, it seemed.
“Asher, what is it?”
He turned it around for me to inspect. It was a long, hooded robe. The hood had a face mask that would be transparent to the wearer, but from the outside it was just a blank mask. “What else? A Grim Reaper costume.”
***
Asher stayed for the party. He’d said he had things to do, earlier, but I think he knew it was kind of a big deal, getting an apology out of Gwen. Lord knows, most people don’t ever live to hear one. Either that, or he was still waiting on some kind of explanation from me. That was probably it.
The living room was standing room only. Half the neighborhood had turned out for this year’s Halloween P
arty. Missy had timed it right, the kids were back from trick or treating, and the grown-ups were hungry for some fun and games, too.
We stayed in our little corner of the room, nibbling on the occasional snack tray Missy trotted past, and watched the children parade around in their costumes. Not surprisingly, a lot of people were naturally avoiding us. Even if they had no idea Death really had come for the party, the tall, imposing figure hovering close by my side was enough to deter most people.
It was going pretty well, all things considered, until I felt a hand on my lower back, that didn’t belong to Asher. I jumped, startled, and came face to face with Alex dressed as a sexy pirate. Oh, no, I had forgotten to invite Alex, but Gwen had obviously remembered. Asher stiffened up next to me, and I realized that inviting Alex might not be a good idea, after all.
Alex made a really cool pirate, though. With the silky white shirt and tight black pants, he looked at least five years older than he really was. Obviously hoping to impress, he’d gone all-out and gotten the knee high boots and fake sword to go with his outfit. He looked good. Really good. His eye patch was propped up on his forehead as he leaned in to quickly kiss my cheek. “Hey, Izzy. Cool costume. You look beautiful.”
The Reaper at my side went on full alert. Alex’s eyes widened as Asher’s hand went around my waist and pulled me against his side. I couldn’t be certain, since I couldn’t see his face, but I was willing to bet his eyes were probably glowing red, and I know I felt him growl, where his chest pressed into my back.
I made a point of taking a step forward, away from Asher before he decided to pee on my shoes, or some other sign of primitive male dominance. “Hi, Alex. I’m glad you made it.”
Alex looked Death up and down, sizing up the competition. “Who’s your friend,” he asked, in a strained voice. His arms crossed over his chest, and his chin raised, ever so slightly. Oh, good, a pissing contest over little ol’ me. How flattering. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned on spending my Halloween, but it was all good, as long as everyone played nice.
Gwen must have seen me caught between the rock and the hard place, and decided to help. Alex should have been backing off, naturally avoiding Asher, but instead he stepped in closer, hoping to intimidate him, and I got caught in the middle of it.
Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series Page 27