He shifted out of existence a split second before I followed him to Isabel’s room. “I can see why you find her so irresistible, Brother.” There was no need to quiet him. He had slipped into that other space, between realities. No one could see or hear us there, which was just as well since there was no shutting him up. “Hers is a great beauty. A few hundred years ago Lord Byron would have written epic pieces of poetry about her.” I glanced into the hospital room, almost afraid of what I might find.
Isabel sat upon the edge of her bed while her friend attempted to wash that great mass of dark hair of hers. Apparently this was accomplished with what looked like a giant shower cap filled with the equivalent of a diaper loaded with something called “dry shampoo”. The cap was placed upon her head and after much massaging of the shower cap by her blonde friend, the hair was effectively cleansed. It may have been an efficient washing process, but it was by no means meant to leave the patient with any dignity. Whatsoever. Isabel was a pitiful figure sitting there all small and bruised and dripping like a tiny, drowned rat.
“She walks in beauty like the night…” Samael laughed so hard he had tears standing in those ink-black eyes of his. I had an overwhelming urge to stop his heart, if he had one.
“Get out, Grim. Now.” I clamped a hand down on his shoulder and steered him away from the doorway, perhaps a little more forcefully than I had intended. “Leave the girl her privacy.”
“Well, well, well. I do believe you have developed a soft spot for that mortal.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Tell me, Asher, what have you done? And how many times did you do it?”
There was no point in denying it; Samael was not about to let it go and leave me in peace. “I bound the girl,” I said, quietly.
He looked incredulous. “With what? She doesn’t reek of magic. I see nothing to hold such a binding, not even a bit of gris-gris.” He took a delicate sniff and turned back to me with accusing eyes. “She no longer stinks of mortality, though. Do tell, what did you bind her with?”
I did not want to talk about this. I wanted to get him out of that room. He was annoying me. Greatly. “It was blood. A few drops only.” Well, perhaps more than a few, but it was none of his business.
Samael’s eyebrows were almost meeting his hairline. “You used blood magic on the girl? A human girl?” Apparently he could still be surprised.
I sighed, thoroughly disgusted with this conversation. “There was no time for anything else. I went to make a harvest and she got in the way.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Was that a headache developing? Was that even possible?
Samael snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course there wasn’t time for anything else. It’s not like you’re Death or anything, with the ability to move outside of time, at will.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis, “Oh, wait, but you are!” His dark eyes shimmered with ill-concealed glee. At least he seemed to enjoy himself. Always, at my expense.
Grim started back into her room, before I thought to stop him. He walked around the bed, watching the two girls who remained blissfully ignorant of the intrusion. “So you used angel blood to bind a human? Not just any angel blood, either, but the blood of the Angel of Death?” An evil grin started slowly and lit up his entire face, even reaching those dark eyes of his. “That’s just delicious. You’ve created an abomination, Brother.”
“It is not like that, Grim. The girl is no abomination.”
“Of course she is. You’re in too deep to see it, but that is exactly what she is. There are going to be repercussions from this, mark my words. Time won’t care; he’s gone bat-shit crazy, but this is surely going to piss off Fate, and she is one cold-hearted bitch. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, Brother.” He started to reach for Isabel. I moved between them before I thought about it, and shifted us back out into the hallway.
“You will not harm the girl, Grim.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Asher. You’ve already done a splendid job of harming her, all by yourself.” He disappeared, but left me with a parting shot, and disembodied laughter. “This is going to be more fun to watch than the Black Plague.”
I was not sure if I were more disgusted with Grim or myself. He was having fun at my expense, but that was nothing unusual. The thing that bothered me was that he was right. The girl was changing, and I had no idea what she was changing into. One thing was sure, I needed to get her out of the hospital before anyone else wanted to pull her blood or run more tests. That, at least, was easily enough accomplished.
I found her doctor making rounds. A few whispered suggestions were all it took to secure Isabel’s release. Within a few hours she was free to go home with a handful of prescriptions and instructions to follow up with her family physician. Her friend was ecstatic, but her father was positively livid.
Chapter 3…Izzy
I startled awake in my own bed, tasting blood again, and I had the strangest feeling that someone was in my room with me. Fear uncoiled slowly in the pit of my stomach and slithered into my throat. Was I bleeding inside again? Or just going crazy from being bashed in the head too hard?
I swore I could hear someone breathing next to my bed. It was impossible, of course, my dad was just down the hallway. If anyone were in the house besides us, he would know it. I lay still for a few moments, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark room. I still couldn’t see anything, but I could smell that spicy leather scent that followed me home from the hospital.
My heart was in my throat as I reached for the lamp on my night table. I held my breath and turned the light on. Angry green eyes stared back at me from a couple of inches away. I had to laugh at my own stupidity. “Jasmine, you scared the crap out of me.” My cat flicked her fluffy white tail at me and glared, patently unimpressed with me.
I yawned, and almost panicked all over again when my fingers came away from my mouth dotted with ruby red. What the hell? Had I bitten myself in my sleep, or reopened the cut on my lip?
I threw the pearl grey comforter off and stumbled into my bathroom, already half-sick with fear. There was blood smudged on my lips and a little smeared across my chin. A quick splash of water revealed no obvious injury.
I stopped and took a hard look at the rest of my face in the mirror. I was paler than normal, which was saying something, since I’m usually the color of a milk bottle, but there was something off about my reflection.
The topknot I’d tied my hair into before bed was a crumpled mess. I pulled the tie out and let my hair fall past my shoulders. My mother’s green eyes sparkled back at me. It took all of a split second to realize that most of the bruises were gone. As were the scratches on my face. Even the busted lip was nothing more than a pink line now, slightly darker than the rest of my lip.
Wow. Over-night healing. That little snake of fear started to coil again. It rattled and hissed a warning; nobody heals that fast. I poked gently at my broken ribs. Nothing. I poked a little harder, and still nothing. Not even that familiar itch was left to mark my injury. Something was terribly wrong with me, but I didn’t think the wreck had much to do with it anymore. Whatever this was, it was a whole new level of wrong.
I could have woken my dad up, but he was exhausted from sitting up with me in the hospital for several days. Besides, if he thought I’d been coughing up blood he would have rushed me to the emergency room. I wasn’t in pain. If anything I actually felt pretty great. I thought about taking the medical tape off my ribs, but figured it would be easier to wait till I took a hot shower, later. Less skin would be lost that way.
The wall clock read 5 a.m. My dad would be getting up soon. There was no need to wake him up early. I thought about heading back to bed, but decided to stay up and make him breakfast, instead. I might even talk him into going to work instead of staying home to babysit me all day. It wasn’t that I wanted rid of him, but I didn’t want him hovering over me and worrying all day.
Dad owned his own restaurant, which was ironic since he was the world’s worst cook. He was on
e of those creative cooks. You never knew what, exactly, had been thrown in the pot. “Whatever you want it to be,” he would say. It usually wasn’t anything that I wanted it to be. Some of it just wasn’t right at all.
Fortunately, he recognized early on that not everyone was into his type of cooking, and he hired a chef to do the cooking for him. He was a lousy cook, but he was a great manager. The good thing about the restaurant was that he could set his own hours. Things ran much more smoothly when he was there, though, so he spent more time at the restaurant than he did at home. Usually I was right there with him, bussing tables or washing dishes, but I think my wreck got me officially laid off until further notice.
It was too bad, too, since I needed the money to help me pay for college in the fall. Not to mention, I was in need of a car now. My dad was going to help with college tuition, of course, but he flat out refused to pay for all of it. He was trying to instill a good work ethic in me. I’d learned from the start that if I wanted anything I would have to work to get it. It was a good lesson to learn.
I brushed my teeth before I did anything else. That copper penny taste was just overwhelming. I wondered when it would finally stop happening.
I combed the snarls out of my hair, and changed out of the tank top I’d slept in. I put on a pink “Hello Kitty” tee and found a mostly clean pair of jeans in the pile of clothes by my bathroom door. I really needed to catch up the laundry if I managed to get rid of my dad.
Finished getting dressed, I gathered Jasmine up off my bed and took her downstairs for breakfast. She dug every claw she had into my shoulder and glared at me with poisonous green eyes. Jazz kitty wasn’t a morning person. She would sweeten up once she got some soft food mixed into her kibble, but she always woke up in a mean mood.
The smell of bacon and eggs brought my dad downstairs a little while later.
“Good morning, Izzy. Are you feeling better?” He took a sip of coffee from the mug I handed him and glanced over at me with worried eyes. I thought he would drop the mug, but he recovered in time. “Isabel, you look… healthy.”
I squirmed in the seat I’d taken at the kitchen table. “Well, you know, make up can do wonders. Especially good concealer.” My cheeks began to burn so I started picking at my plate of food. I hated lying to my dad, but better to tell him a little white lie to make him feel better, than tell him the freaky truth and get hauled back to the hospital for a battery of tests
He was still staring at me when I chanced a glance back up at him. It was obvious he didn’t believe a word I’d said. It was also obvious that he had no better explanation, and couldn’t prove anything.
“Izzy, you shouldn’t even be out of bed yet, much less up cooking. Which reminds me, are you sure you should be eating that?” He stabbed an accusing fork towards my plate.
Nope, I thought, probably not supposed to be eating this stuff. Probably should still be in the hospital, in fact. I tore off a bite of bacon and chewed happily.
“You heard the doctor, Dad. She said I was healing remarkably fast and that I should do as much as I feel like as long as I don’t overdo it.” I stabbed my fork into my extra cheesy eggs. “I felt like bacon and eggs.”
That was no lie. I felt like I was about to starve to death. If I died I would die happy; with bacon on my breath.
He shook his head and took another sip of coffee. His eyes were troubled. “I don’t know, Izzy. That doctor seemed really distracted. Maybe she was tired or something, but she seemed to be running on auto pilot. I think she discharged you way too soon.”
“I feel great, Dad. Really great.” I got up to refill his coffee. “Think you’ll go into work today?”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “I had planned on staying home with you today.” He was giving me the parental stink eye. If I wasn’t careful I’d end up with a full-time babysitter.
I forced a smile as I poked at my eggs. “That’s cool. Gwen’s coming over in a little while. We are gonna have a chick flick movie marathon. I think Gwen’s bringing a bunch of Julia Roberts’ movies over. You can even pick the first one, if you want.” By the look of horror that washed over my dad’s face at the mention of chick flicks, I knew I’d won. He wouldn’t hang around for that kind of torture.
“Well, maybe I’d better go into work before Claude manages to get half the kitchen staff to quit. Just for a couple of hours, then I will be home.” Claude was the restaurant’s head chef. He was also a complete jerk, but the guy had mad skills in the kitchen. It really was probably a good idea to go in to check on him. Left in charge of everything, Claude would go quite mad with power.
“I promise I will keep the house phone close, in case you call.” My cell phone was still missing in action, probably broken into at least a million pieces. I needed to remember to get a replacement. “In the meantime, I think I’ll go find something to read while I wait for Gwen.” I put our dishes in the kitchen sink and went into the living room.
Dad made sure I was propped up on the sofa with a stack of magazines before he headed back upstairs to get ready for work. Thirty minutes later he was showered and shaved and heading out the door.
I could have shoved him towards the door, but then he would know I was trying to get rid of him. Instead, I smiled and waved at him. I was absolutely buzzing with suppressed energy. It was almost like I’d had too much caffeine, but without the jitters. I felt fantastic.
Dad popped his head back inside the door a minute later. “Don’t forget to take your medicine, Izzy.”
“I won’t, Dad. I’m all over it.”
He didn’t look convinced. “If you need anything call my cell phone. I love you.”
“Love you, too Dad. Now go to work.”
While I waited for Gwen to come over I managed to clean my room, do two loads of laundry, and straighten up the kitchen. I felt freaking awesome.
Chapter 4...Asher
“Behold, the Angel of Death… reduced to being a panty-sniffing pervert.” Oh good, Samael decided to drop in for a visit. How delightful.
“Shut up, Grim, and go away before I rip your wings off.” I had been brooding quietly to myself, propped up on the bed against Isabel’s headboard. The damned cat refused to move and somehow managed to take up over half the bed by itself. She was a small cat, but what she lacked in size, she more than made up for in attitude.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared as Samael plopped down in the white wicker rocking chair beside the bed. He was far too big to fit in the small chair. “You look ridiculous.”
Samael smirked at me. “I might say the same thing of you, Asher.” His face went deadly serious. “What are you still doing here? The girl lives. She’s in no danger, at least not yet. If you don’t leave her alone the higher-ups are going to take notice, however. Then there will be more than enough danger to go around, for all of us.”
Well, there was my problem in a nutshell. I could not seem to leave the girl alone, despite my best intentions. “Piss off, and mind your own business, Grim.”
Isabel came sauntering out of the bathroom trailed by a cloud of steam wearing only two fluffy, white towels. The towel turbaned around her head fell off and all that glossy dark hair spilled down past her bare shoulders. Water gleamed and beaded on milky, white skin before sliding down her back, and into the towel that barely covered her. My mouth went suddenly dry, and I could not seem to get my next breath.
“Oh, Asher, the look on your face right now! You do lovely work, I must say. I didn’t see it before, but you’re right; she has a beautiful, um… soul. And a beautiful rear view, I might add.” Samael sat, literally, on the edge of his seat, waiting for that towel to drop. I grabbed his shoulder and shifted us into the living room area. “No fair. Things were just starting to get interesting.”
“You have shown enough interest, Grim. Now, be a good boy and run along.”
“Well, as your friend I was prepared to talk you out of this lunacy, but after I’ve seen the finished product, I’m thinking o
f finding myself a lovely project. She has that friend hanging about all of the time, the tall one? She might be a nice distraction.” He sank into the large, brown sofa and propped his boots up on the coffee table. “You aren’t nearly as pretty with your eyes glowing red, by the way. You’re going to have to work on that if you ever intend to let her see you. You don’t want to scare your little friend half to death, do you?” He snickered at his own joke.
I ran my hand through my hair, and fought the urge to kick his ass back to purgatory. Grim was my friend, I had to remember that. It had been centuries since I had felt anger; felt much of anything, for that matter. Now I was angry not just with Grim, but with myself, and I was worried about the girl. Isabel.
I should have left her alone in the first place. I knew that. I knew it from the beginning, but I could not seem to stop myself. If I am being completely honest I did not want to stop myself. Her soul called to me. Greedy monster that I am, I knowingly bound her, not just to her body, but to myself. And that was my greatest sin.
Samael sighed, uncharacteristically solemn for once. “You have to give her up, Brother. I know you said this was an accident, but I’ve known you for an eternity. You’ve never been anything other than a cold, calculating bastard. I can’t imagine that’s changed suddenly.”
I felt that familiar burn kindling behind my eyes as I smiled at him. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Grim.”
He laughed at that. “Well, since I can’t talk you out of this idiocy, tell me how I can help.”
Chapter 5…Izzy
My first day back in school started out with a small argument with my dad. He thought I should sit out a few more weeks, but I really didn’t want to get behind. Senior year is important, and even a few days out would put me so far in the hole, I would never dig out from under all of the homework.
Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series Page 3
