Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series

by Sherri A. Wingler

  “So I see. No biggie; I’m not in a hurry. I was just too lazy to cook.”

  She patted my shoulder as she went back to serving the other tables in my section. “Glad you’re feeling better, Izzy.”

  “Thanks.”

  Sneaking into the kitchen and begging Claude for a crust of garlic bread was definitely in order. I wiggled out of my booth and headed to the back of the restaurant for some unrepentant scavenging. It was for a good cause; I was starving.

  I was almost even with the bathroom when someone slammed into me from behind. Blindly, I stumbled through the door, and into the dark. What the hell? Why were the lights off? And who was rude enough to hit me in the first place? A tiny icicle of fear needled into my brain when all of Asher’s warnings came back to me. I had to be careful. Things were watching me. Things wanted to kill me.

  But I hadn’t been careful, had I? I’d walked downtown, blissfully unaware of my surroundings, other than to notice how pretty the leaves were since they’d started changing colors. It was a beautiful, autumn night. A beautiful night to get myself killed, if I wasn’t careful.

  The bathroom was pitch black. I wasn’t entirely sure which way I was turned, or how far away from the light switch I was. Without my sight, I had to rely on my other senses. Water dripped from the tap, steadily getting on my last frayed nerve. I could have screamed for help, but I didn’t know what had grabbed me, and I didn’t want my dad or anyone else getting hurt because of me. I should have listened to Asher. He’d tried to tell me. He’d literally drilled it into my head. I wasn’t safe anywhere.

  There was labored breathing in the dark. I listened hard as I tried to get my bearings. I picked up two heart beats, and the cloying scent of cheap perfume. Unless my attacker was a ho-bag demon, I had a pretty good idea who I was trapped in the bathroom with.

  “You can turn the lights on, Jenny. I know it’s you.” A nervous giggle as the door lock clicked into place. They wanted to scare me, and a couple of weeks ago, it would have worked. Now, after some of the stuff I’d seen, I was actually relieved it was just them.

  “We are going to have a little talk.” There was movement to my left. My head swiveled as I listened. She sidled up close to me, sneaking along in the darkness. The weird thing was, my vision seemed to piece itself back together, the longer I stayed in the dark. I began to make her out, and over by the door, guarding the light switch, was her little buddy, Tiffany.

  I suppose I should have been afraid, but mostly I was just pissed off. Jenny had made my life hell for years, and I’d taken her crap because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I didn’t want to get labelled as a troubled kid who fought in school. Instead, I’d let myself become a doormat. She was a bully and a bitch, and I’d had enough, finally.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I kept my tone quiet, almost conversational. In my head, I went over all the stuff Asher had taught me.

  “I want to talk about Alex. He’s mine, and you need to remember that.” She was behind me, almost within reach. Adrenaline spiked and my heartbeat kicked up a notch.

  “That’s not what he says,” I said, carefully. “He says he’s done with you. He says you’re a nasty bitch.” Alex was actually too nice to say anything of the sort; I just threw that in there for fun.

  She chuckled low in her throat. “Alex likes it nasty. He’s not as sugary sweet as he lets on. He’s got a mean streak, too, just like me. He just doesn’t want you to see it.” I doubted that. Gwen was meaner than Alex. Hell, I was meaner than Alex.

  “If he’s so bad, then why do you want him back?”

  “Because I like him bad. Sometimes, I even like it rough.” That’s when she pounced on me and grabbed a handful of my hair. Her claws were against my scalp, tearing at my skin, trying to make me scream, and I finally just lost it.

  My elbow flew back and connected with Jenny’s nose with a satisfying crunch. She screamed so loud and pitiful that it sounded like she was dying, and the lights flared overhead. Tiffany stood with her hand over her mouth, eyes huge, just taking it all in. I’m pretty sure she was surprised that it wasn’t me doing all the screaming and crying. Jenny’s nose gushed bright, fresh blood, and her eyes poured tears.

  “Due brode by ducking dose!”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand you. I think your nose is broken,” I offered helpfully. She wailed as she scrambled for the bathroom mirror.

  Tiffany ran over to her, wanting to help, but she didn’t have a clue what to do. “Don’t just stand there, do something! Call 911!” She had to be joking. They had attacked me, and I was supposed to help? Um, no.

  “Why? She’s not dying.” I surveyed the damage with a cynical eye. There was blood all over Jenny. Her outfit was ruined. “Take her out the back way with the rest of the trash, before she makes the other customers sick.”

  “You cannot be serious? She can sue you,” she pointed out, hands on hips.

  I shrugged the threat off. “She could, but she did attack me in the first place, and you did help her. Two against one is pretty chicken shit, don’t you think?” Jenny’s face was already ballooning up; she’d be black and blue by morning. It was highly gratifying. “Your best bet is to get your sorry asses out of here before I call the cops.”

  “Due’ll be dorry!” Even injured, Jenny just couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

  She surprised laughter out of me. “The only thing I’m sorry about, is that I didn’t do that years ago.” Her tearing eyes widened as I leaned up against the cold, porcelain sink next to her. She even shrank away from me a little bit. It’s probably terrible, but I enjoyed it. “The way I see it, you can either tell everyone you fell down… at home, mind you, or you can tell everyone that I kicked your ass.”

  “You didn’t kick her ass,” Tiffany broke in, all snarky and superior, “you got in a lucky shot.”

  “I haven’t kicked her ass yet, but it can be arranged. Yours too, if you don’t shut up and get out.” I walked over to the door and unbolted it. “And Jenny?” She glared at me above the hand she held over her bloodied nose. Tiffany handed her a huge wad of toilet paper to help her catch the drips. “Alex can date whomever he wants.” She just stuffed toilet paper up her nose and walked past me with what little dignity she had left.

  ***

  I felt awesome! Years of being bullied by Jenny Stevens had come to an end. A screeching halt, even. Ding Dong, the Witch was dead. I could have skipped all the way home, I was so happy. I couldn’t wait to tell Gwen all the gory details. I felt ten feet tall… or at least five and a half feet tall, for sure. Whatever. The point was, I felt like a total badass.

  I’d gotten rid of Jenny and Tiffany without anyone in the restaurant really noticing. The wait staff was hopping, and Claude was busy cooking. My dad was in the office going over the books. So I slipped them out the back door without anyone the wiser. Then I scavenged around the kitchen while I waited for my cheesesteak to be prepared. And it was fantastic. I swear it tasted better than any I’d ever had before. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but hot cheesesteak served after a fight you actually win is freaking awesome.

  I wasn’t paying attention as I walked home; just be-bopped along, blissfully unaware, reliving the moment when I finally got the best of my life-long bully. I think I might have even hummed “Eye of the Tiger,” softly, to myself. You’d think I would learn to pay attention, eventually, but no. I was hit from behind for the second time that night. Another cheap shot, and this time it actually knocked me to the ground, onto my hands and knees. Gravel bit into my palms, and I literally saw red from a couple of bloody scrapes.

  “Dammit, Jenny, I’m not gonna tell you again—“

  My words were cut off by a cackle that definitely was not from Jenny Stevens. It had a nails on chalkboard quality to it, and the stench suddenly surrounding me was horrible. If I had to pin it down, I would say it was sun-ripened sewage with just a hint of dead skunk, thrown in. My stomach gave a heave and I had to fight to
keep my dinner down. “What the hell?”

  Something was off. That wasn’t Jenny, not by a long shot. I raised my head slowly, knowing that my luck had really run out this time. It wasn’t another Reaper, like I originally thought, but maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. Whatever it was, it was huge, and ugly. In the streetlight I caught a glimpse of feathers and scales, and what had to be two heads sitting atop two long, skinny necks. It looked like a two-headed vulture.

  It snatched me off my feet before I stood up. My stomach dropped into my shoes. The thing flapped its wings, spreading its stench, and flew straight up in the air with its claws firmly embedded in my jacket. I was too scared to scream. Not that it would have done much good, if I had. Really, even if anyone had seen what was going on, would anyone stop to help me?

  “Oof! This thing is heavy. Fly faster before I drop my side!”

  “Quit yer bitchin’ and hang onto it. If you drop it, it’s yer head, not mine.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is about this one, is all I’m saying. There are younger and lighter ones we could have grabbed. Don’t know what’s so special about this one,” the thing muttered sullenly.

  “It has to be delivered alive. Just shut up and hang on. This will be over before you know it.”

  Oh, my God, the thing was having an argument with itself, about me, presumably. My coat dug painfully into my armpits as it pulled me higher into the night sky.

  Tree tops rushed up and branches scratched at my face and caught at my hair. My heart beat hard enough to explode, and the whole time I could think of no way to escape. Whacking the damned thing with my elbow wouldn’t do any good. I couldn’t even reach its face…either of them. One thing was certain, if I didn’t get away soon, it wouldn’t matter. We were above the tree line and gaining height, although it seemed to be struggling. Apparently, it wasn’t used to flying with a passenger. Either that, or its wings were weak. From what little I could make out, they looked scraggly and misshapen.

  There had to be a way to stop this. If I let it take me, I was dead; there was no question about that. If I got it to drop me, I was probably dead, but at least I wouldn’t get tortured first, and God only knew what it would do to me. I didn’t want my bones to end up lining the nest of a demon buzzard.

  I forced myself to remain calm, and not to look down. If I looked down I would freeze up, and then it was over. I went through Asher’s lessons in my head, and none of them would help me. Then I thought of Gwen. What would Gwen do in a situation like this?

  I felt around in my pocket for my keys. My hands shook so hard, it took a few minutes to get them just right. I still had my car key on the ring, even though I no longer had the car after the wreck, and my house keys, and a couple of others, though I couldn’t remember what they unlocked. I threaded them all through my fingers so that they spiked out of my clenched fist. I took a deep breath, forced myself to calm down.

  “Hey!” I twisted around, tried to get its attention. No effect. And we were getting farther and farther away from home, not to mention, solid ground. Fine. I’d tried to be nice about it. I prayed I wouldn’t puke as I reached up and grabbed a handful of greasy feathers, then ripped them out of its ass like I was trying to pull-start a cold lawn mower. It let out something between a squawk and a scream and wheeled in mid-air, shaking me like it wanted to drop me. Really, I wouldn’t have blamed it, if it had. That was the whole point.

  “What the bloody hell did you do that for?”

  “I tried to get your attention, and you ignored me.”

  “Well, what do you want?” One of its heads lowered, got within reach of me, and I jammed that handful of keys I held right into its blood-shot eye. Something squished and popped as hot fluid ran down my hand and towards my elbow. Oh, gag. The thing screamed, long and loud; a blistering sound against my eardrums.

  It dropped me, then, and it was my turn to scream, because I was in free fall, with no idea how long I had before the ground would meet me. For all I knew, the thing would recover from having its eye poked out and come back for me. I was dead, either way. “Asher.” I whispered his name. It was inevitable, I thought, that he would be the last thing I ever saw. I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over.

  Wind whistled past my ears, and it literally took my breath away when he caught me. I was almost afraid to look; maybe it was only wishful thinking that made me think it was Asher. But the arms holding me were familiar, and that spiced leather scent was all Asher. Relief rushed through me so intense it was impossible to speak for a moment.

  “Are you alright?” His voice was quiet, but tense. “Isabel?” I nodded, still afraid to open my eyes. I just wanted to savor the moment since I hadn’t just died from my own stupidity.

  I caught a breath, cracked an eye. “I’m ok. Thanks. You have incredible timing.” We hovered in mid-air, the beat of his wings, steady and strong. We were only a breath apart, and his look of concern did funny things to me.

  A roar from above distracted me from my warm, fuzzy feelings. The damned buzzard hadn’t just left like I thought it would. Of course it hadn’t. It still wanted to kill me for blinding it. “Hang on.” Asher twisted in mid-air, and shot out ahead of the thing. I clung to him like my life depended on it, which it really did. “Can you swim?”

  “Hunh? Yeah, a little. Why?”

  “Good. Take a deep breath, and hold it.”

  “What?” He dove straight for the ground and I screamed till my throat was raw. He was insane.

  The ground came up at a terrifying speed. Almost too late, I saw the pond he was headed for. Its surface was still and dark, so it was little wonder I’d missed it, at first glance. Surely he wouldn’t do what I thought he was about to do? He did. He threw me into a freezing cold pond, in the middle of nowhere, in freaking October.

  Smacking into water from thirty or forty feet up is a lot like hitting concrete, I imagine; it freaking hurts. Bitterly cold water rushed up my nose and into my mouth, nearly drowning me as I sank toward the bottom. I flailed my arms, panicked, before I finally remembered how to dog paddle. The water was black and disgusting; a shock to my system, in more ways than one. I could barely see through the murk, but I made out the shimmering circle of moonlight above me, and made my way towards it.

  I bobbed to the top of the water, and drew beautiful, clean air into my burning lungs in great, ragged gulps. Asher may be Death, but if I could’ve gotten my hands on him at that moment, I would’ve killed him. I treaded water and tried not to think about what might be in the pond with me. My clothes soaked up water and tried to drag me back down to the bottom. The jacket weighed a ton, so I wrestled it off and let it sink. If I lived long enough, I’d go shopping and buy another one.

  The shoreline wasn’t very far away, and I was stronger now, thanks to Asher’s blood. I could make it, but if I lived through the night, he was going to get an earful. His rescue left something to be desired. You just don’t go throwing someone into freezing water like that. It’s damned rude.

  I crawled out of the pond, half-frozen, and slogged through the mud, totally exhausted. Overhead, screams and curses rained down freely. I’d almost forgotten about the demon. I flipped over on my back and propped myself up with shaking arms. I looked up, but couldn’t make out much, even with the improved night vision. They fought too closely, too furiously, and they headed for the water at an alarming speed. I crab-walked up the bank, backing away as fast as I could. This wasn’t going to end well for one of them. I just hoped it wasn’t Asher. I might want to strangle him, but I wanted to do it, not some demon buzzard from Hell.

  They hit the water hard and fast, with a roar like thunder. Pond water fountained up and sprayed over the bank, soaking me yet again. I could only watch, open-mouthed, as they disappeared beneath the surface.

  The water seemed to boil, out in the middle of the pond. It frothed and foamed and churned like a kettle ready to explode under too much pressure. Finally, after what seemed like too long a time, from t
he center of that raging water flew Asher, straight up into the air, just like the avenging angel that he was. He’d battled a demon and saved my life, and stupidly, all I could think was that he looked really good wet. I collapsed back into the mud in a fit of hysterical giggles.

  Asher landed next to me. His shirt was missing, and I did my level best to look him in the eye. I really did. I didn’t manage it very well, but I did try. “Are you hurt?” He knelt next to me, almost touched me, but pulled his hand away at the last moment.

  “You threw me into a pond. A really cold one.” I wiped a hand down my face; it came away covered in brown and green gunk. So attractive. My giggles turned to hiccups. I couldn’t seem to get a grip. Oh, well, it was a rough night.

  At least he had the good sense to look sorry. “I needed both of my hands free to fight. I apologize.”

  I waved his apology away, finally managed to sober up a little bit. “I was a little upset at first, you know, since I nearly drowned, but I’m over it.” I nodded towards the still, black water of the pond. “Is it dead?”

  “As dead as something like that can get. It will not bother you, again.” He stood up, held out a hand to me. I let him pull me up out of the mud. My clothes were ruined. I really needed to go shopping.

  “What was it? The buzzard thing, I mean.”

  “It was a Lesser Demon. They’re scavengers, usually, but this one was more determined than most.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” The wind picked up and bit at me till I shivered. It might have been a latent reaction to all the drama, or it might have just been because my jacket was at the bottom of the pond. “Are you cold?”

  “A little bit.”

  He opened his arms to me. “Let me take you home.”

  I eyed the outspread wings and shook my head. “I think I’ll walk.”

  “You’re a very stubborn girl.”

  “So you’ve told me. Still, I think I’d rather walk home.”