Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series

by Sherri A. Wingler

  Strange, but true, I really liked raking leaves. It not only gave me something to do with all that spare energy, but I had every intention of jumping in the leaf pile when I finished. No matter how old a person is, I firmly believe that they’re never too old for jumping in leaf piles.

  It was a nice day; kind of cool, but sunny. I had just started to break a sweat when I felt someone watching me. Asher was back. I didn’t turn around, just kept slowly raking my leaves into their colorful pile. Hesitant steps crunched as he came up behind me. He touched my arm almost shyly, stopping me from raking. “Isabel, about this morning, I want to apologize.”

  I leaned on my rake and stared up at him as I brushed sweat off my forehead with my forearm. The sun was behind him, highlighting his blonde hair into a sort of halo. It was a strange little optical illusion, but it suited him. Asher was an angel, after all; if a deadly one. I glanced away before he caught me staring at him.

  “You really don’t have anything to apologize for.” I took another couple of swipes with my rake.

  Asher looked thoroughly confused. “Wait…what? Why not? I expected to find you upset.” Clearly I’d caught him off guard. That made me stupidly happy, for some reason. Just being near him made me stupidly happy.

  I should probably worry about that. I barely knew him. Really, I’d spent almost no time at all with him, unless you count the time he’d spent stalking me. In the time that I had spent with him, I’d witnessed him kill someone. And still, it made me stupidly happy just to be near him. That was the reaction I was supposed to have to Alex, but I realized that I hadn’t given him much of a second thought since I’d spoken to him last night. I was a horrible person, and probably and idiot.

  Asher watched me closely. I shrugged, tried to look casual. “I’m ok. Really. You were just doing what you had to for that poor woman, and you made it as easy for her as you could. It’s just too bad she had to spend her last moments in the middle of a crowded grocery store. I guess that couldn’t have been helped, though.”

  He ducked his head, nodded once, and when he looked at me again, his storm-grey eyes glowed with something that curled my toes. “It could not be helped, no. Once I am summoned, the harvest has to be made. Your understanding is much more than I had hoped for, however. I thank you for it.”

  My cheeks were on fire. Hopefully, he thought it was from the exercise, and not because I was embarrassed. “Oh, hey, no big deal. Gwen got a little upset, but she couldn’t see things the way I could.” I took a few more swipes at the leaves, then stopped and looked up at him. “I hate lying to her, you know? I don’t much care for lying to my dad, either.”

  Asher shuffled from foot to foot. Was he nervous, too? “Have you noticed anything unusual lately? Any strange new people lurking about? Any new abilities, perhaps?”

  I really thought about it for a moment. “Nah. You’re the only strange new people I’ve met. Otherwise, I haven’t noticed anything unusual. I feel good. Everything seems to be all healed up.”

  Asher looked skeptical. “Do something for me?”

  “Like what?” I’m not usually the suspicious type. Ah, who am I kidding? I’m exactly the suspicious type. Always and forever, the suspicious type.

  Asher reached down to the ground and picked up a tiny orange leaf. It lifted in the palm of his hand and swirled slowly up into the air for a few inches and came back down, as easy and light, as a feather. “I want you to move this leaf.”

  I snorted. “Of course you do, but I can’t do that; not the way that you just did. It’s impossible.”

  “It is impossible, only if you believe it to be so. Just try. For me.” For a smile like that, I was willing to try just about anything.

  I sighed as I dropped my rake, almost disgusted with myself, and held out my hand. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

  Carefully, Asher placed the leaf in my hand. “Everything begins with a motion of Will. You have enormous potential; I can feel it in you. Once you master moving this tiny leaf, you can move mountains. Focus on the leaf. Concentrate the energy you feel building up inside of you. Direct that energy into the leaf. Make it move to your Will.” He held his hand a few inches above my hand and made a tiny swirling motion. I could feel it as clearly as if he’d taken his finger and touched it directly to my skin. Goosebumps lifted all along my arm. Thank goodness I still had on long sleeves, or he might have seen.

  I tried to concentrate, I really did, but Asher was standing so close to me. Too close, probably. I wanted to lean towards him and run away at the same time. I took several deep, steadying breaths and tried to ignore the racing of my heart. He watched me steadily. I tried to just block him out, but that spiced scent of leather made me fuzzy-headed. Why did he have to smell so good? I was acting like an idiot. Gwen would laugh her ass off at me, if she knew.

  I focused so hard on that leaf, I nearly went cross-eyed. The stupid thing just lay there, mocking me. Heat crawled up my throat, into my face, and prickled along my scalp. “Breathe, Isabel. This should not be painful. It is as easy and natural as the beat of your heart.” Yeah, well, if he only knew it, my heart was beating like a drum. Then I realized that he could probably hear it. Damn.

  I huffed out a breath. “Easy for you, maybe, but I’m about to give myself an aneurysm, and the stupid thing isn’t moving.” Asher just chuckled at my puny effort.

  “Isabel Maitland! What in the world do you think you are doing, young lady?!” I jumped about a foot straight up in the air, I’m sure. My dad rounded the corner of the house all red in the face and hands in the air. For a split second I thought he’d seen Asher. Asher, for his part, did a really poor job at hiding the smirk on his face. He’d seen me jump, and quickly hide my hands behind my back. I felt like a six year old with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Which was stupid. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. At least, not that my dad could tell.

  I straightened up with as much dignity as I could manage. It wasn’t much. “Um, uh, hey, Dad. What’s the matter?” I dropped the leaf I’d been trying to move with the power of my pitiful little mind and picked up my rake. I held it in front of me in a white-knuckled grip.

  My dad gestured to the rake. “What is this, young lady?”

  I had to stop myself from looking up at Asher for a possible answer. He just stood there, solid as a rock, trying hard not to laugh in my face. “Well,” I said carefully, “this would be a rake.”

  I got the parental stink eye. The one that promised dire consequences for my little bit of teenaged, smart-assed sass. “I know what it is. Why are you out here raking leaves? You should be resting.” Funny how he thought raking leaves would be overwhelming to my delicate constitution, when he’d been perfectly ok with me doing all the grocery shopping, earlier. I wondered how he’d take it if I told him I was completely healed up. That probably wouldn’t end well for me. I’d learned a long time ago to pick and choose my battles with my father. He was even more stubborn than I was, most of the time.

  I dropped my chin, and let my hair cover my face a little. “Sorry, Dad. I was feeling better.” It wasn’t a total lie.

  His eyes softened and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry I had a meltdown on you, Izzy. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He reached out and pulled me in for an unexpected hug. He’d been hugging me a lot lately. Normally this would have been awkward. In front of someone, Asher, for instance, it was kind of mortifying. I squirmed out of his embrace, and gave him a weak smile.

  Asher must have taken pity on me, because he walked up next to my father and lightly touched his shoulder. Immediately, all the blood drained from my dad’s face. His lips quivered and his eyes darted. Briskly, he rubbed his hands together. “Are you ok, Dad?”

  “Yeah, I think someone just stepped over my grave. Just got a little chill.” I dared a quick glance at Asher. He gave me a slow grin and I swear he winked at me.

  ***

  “That is much better, but do it again, and faster this time.”

  I
had sweat pouring down the crack of my ass, and Asher wanted me to punch him again. Fine; I’d be glad to. I balled up my fist and hit his hand as hard as I could, and hoped it stung, at least a little bit. It would serve him right for making me do this stupid crap, in the first place.

  Asher wanted me to know some basic self-defense moves. He seemed awfully paranoid about my safety, and if I had any sense, I probably would have been, too. There was no sign of the boogie man lurking about. Unless you counted him, of course. In that case, the boogie man was definitely lurking about, and he was kind of bossy.

  I tried to tell him that I’d picked some stuff up from Gwen, over the years, but he insisted on teaching me a few things, anyway. Honestly, most of the moves Gwen taught me were pretty under-handed, but I bet they’d work just fine in a pinch. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to know any of it. I’m not much of a fighter, and I hate confrontation; that was Gwen’s department, not mine. The edgiest thing about me is the highlights in my hair.

  Oh, well, this was better than going around trying to get random items to move with the power of my mind. I wasn’t having much luck with that, though I practiced often. I figured it was like homework; if I wanted to get good at it I had to keep practicing till it clicked. Once in a while I could get a paper to lift off the table an inch or so, but it was nothing super impressive. Most of the time, I’d just get frustrated and develop a headache, but I kept trying, anyway. Asher spent a lot of his spare time trying to help me learn to control my Will. It was nice of him to help me, but secretly, I wondered if I might be hopeless. I just wasn’t getting it. And I wasn’t getting the whole self-defense thing, either, though he did keep trying with that, too. I had to give him credit for that.

  We were in my basement, or as my dad lovingly referred to it, the home gym. It was a pretty loose description, in my opinion. It still had the original light-colored, wood paneling and orange shag rug from nineteen-seventy something that came with the house when it was new. We had a mostly unused treadmill in the corner, a second-hand weight bench Dad had found at a yard sale, and a couple of fitness DVD’s just waiting for someone to blow the dust bunnies off of them and start Jazzercising. This was the most use our home gym had seen in a couple of years, and the air was kind of musty down there.

  “Do it again. Harder,” Asher barked out orders as he held his hands up for me to punch. It didn’t matter how much fun he was to look at, he was turning into a pain in my ass. A bossy pain in my ass. I felt like “Eye of the Tiger,” should be playing in the background.

  “My arms are about to fall off,” I whined. “I’m not training for a fight, dammit.”

  His eyebrow quirked up. “As a matter of fact, you are, and you must be prepared. Now, do it again, if you please.”

  If Gwen were there, she’d have told me to kick him in the nuts and be done with it. It was dirty, but as far as self-defense moves go, it worked beautifully. “Look, I’m tired. We’ve been at this for over an hour, and frankly, I don’t see the point. Even if something comes at me, it’s not gonna stop to let me hit it.”

  Asher dropped his hands back down to his sides. “You’re right. This may not be the best way to teach you, but I want you to be prepared, and I need to know how strong you are.”

  “Not very, but I could’ve told you that without the boxing lessons.” My arms were sore, my knuckles stung, and the t-shirt I wore was stuck to me; I just felt icky all over. I probably had pit stains, and I was pretty sure that I smelled less-than-fresh.

  “No, you’re much stronger than I thought you would be, but still not strong enough to defend yourself against anything other than a human.” Good to know. He eyed me up and down, and I grew suddenly self-conscious. “Turn around so that your back is facing me.” Yeah, right!

  “Why?” I was instantly suspicious. I flexed my hands, tried to work some of the stiffness out of them. Hitting him was like hitting stone; it hurt like hell and it was totally pointless.

  “Because I asked so nicely,” he murmured. I felt a blush creeping up my throat, and avoided looking directly at his eyes. If he noticed the pink staining my cheeks, I hoped he would just think it was from the exercise, and not some random, impure thought I might be having about him.

  “Not nicely enough. Whatever you have in mind, I’m probably not gonna like it, so I think I’ll just stay as is, if you don’t mind.”

  Asher’s groan was almost a growl. Good. I was glad that I wasn’t the only one who was frustrated. “You are the most stubborn girl.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. I definitely did not ogle him when his shirt pulled taut across his chest. “Do you trust me?”

  “Hunh?” He repeated the question, since clearly I wasn’t paying attention.

  Did I trust him? Mostly. Sort of. “Of course I do, don’t be silly.” It was me that I didn’t trust.

  “Then, please turn around.” I did it, but I caught myself holding my breath as he came directly up behind me. He was invading my personal space, and I kind of liked it. “The elbow is the strongest part of your body. If someone grabs you from behind, use it.” His hand slipped down my shoulder to my elbow. I flinched a little, but probably not for the reason he thought. “Bring it up and back; aim for my face.”

  “Are you crazy? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  His chuckle was warm, and rich. “You cannot hurt me. Aim high; you are very small.” He was laughing at me. Seriously.

  “Fine, but you asked for it.” I took a deep breath and threw my body weight behind it when I threw the elbow at his face. I didn’t really expect to connect, and was startled when I felt my arm smack into flesh. “Oh crap, are you ok?” I turned around, panicked that I really might have hurt him. He’d caught my elbow in his hand, and not with his nose like I’d so stupidly thought. And he was really laughing at me now. He gave my arm a gentle squeeze as he let it go.

  “The look on your face is priceless.” The grey in his eyes lightened to almost blue when he was happy. Not that I noticed. “You really thought you hurt me.”

  “Yeah, silly me,” I bit out through my teeth.

  “Your concern is touching, but I think I will be alright.” The corners of his mouth remained curled up, and I really did think about just punching him in the nuts to get this little lesson over faster.

  Chapter 14…Izzy

  The restaurant was really busy, for it being a week night. I hadn’t been in since the wreck, but I was still a little sore from sparring with Asher, and too lazy to cook. It seemed like a good time to visit.

  Sylvia, the hostess, saw me slip in the back and squealed, startling at least a couple of customers. Hopefully, they didn’t think she acted like that all the time. I grinned as she rushed over and immediately threw her arms around me. I was glad to see her, too. I hugged her quickly, before ducking out of her arms.

  “I’m just so happy to see you!” She snagged a menu on our way past her podium, and hustled me over to a quiet booth towards the back of the restaurant. “Here, Hon, sit yourself down and let me feed you something.” She dropped into the seat across from me. “How’ve you been, Sweet Pea?”

  “I’m good. How have you been?”

  “The usual,” she waved a hand towards the kitchen, “mostly I play referee between your daddy and Claude. I swear sometimes I think I should have opened up a Daycare, instead of working here. It might have been easier.”

  I chuckled. I got a kick out of Sylvia. She was a curvy brunette with soft brown eyes and a not-so-secret crush on my dad. Dad was oblivious, or at least he pretended to be. I think he really didn’t want to complicate things by dating someone who worked for him; especially since a good hostess is hard to find. I wondered how much longer Sylvia would hang onto hope before she said screw it, and moved on.

  “Wow, I can’t get over how good you look. I thought you’d be all beat up and all-over bruises, still, but girl you look good.” She reached across the table and brushed the hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear.

  “Thanks,
that’s sweet of you to say.” I squirmed away from the motherly touch and cleared my throat. “It’s all concealer, though. Good stuff.”

  I opened my menu and pretended to go over it. I already knew what I wanted, I just wanted a moment to get a breath. I loved Sylvia, but sometimes she tried to mother me, and I’ve never been entirely comfortable with it. “Can I have a Philly cheesesteak, please? And a side of steak fries.” I closed the menu and handed it back to her.

  “Sure thing, give me a minute and I’ll put that order in, myself.” The bell rang over the front door as more customers came in. “Oops, sorry, Hon. I’ll have Emily take care of you. I’ve got to go back to work, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze as she started to walk away.

  “Ok. Thanks.” I settled back into my seat and relaxed a little. It seemed like I’d been gone much longer than just a couple of weeks. I’d grown up in this restaurant. As a matter of fact, the doorway next to the pantry still bore the scars of my growth. Dad used to make me stand to be measured, and notched the wood with a paring knife. This place was home to me.

  And the smell coming from the kitchen was killing me. My mouth watered, and my stomach growled. Spaghetti must be on the special tonight, because garlic and onion perfumed the air. Maybe I should have ordered that instead, but I’d been dreaming of cheesesteak all day. I could always sneak back to the kitchen and sweet talk Claude into a hunk of garlic bread.

  I glanced up as Emily brought my soda to my table. She had a broad, gap-toothed smile that lit up her whole face. “Hey, toots, when are you coming back to work?”

  “Soon, I hope.” I lowered my voice a little. “Dad won’t let me come back yet. I’m too delicate, apparently.”

  She nodded, completely missing my sarcasm. “He worries about you. That’s the way dads are; the good ones, anyway. Humor him a little while longer, if it makes him feel better.” I nodded. “Oh, hey, give your Philly a little while; we’re pretty slammed tonight.”