Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series

by Sherri A. Wingler

  The general noise in the hall dropped so low that I could hear my own harsh breathing. All eyes were trained on us as couples stopped dancing and drinking, and conversations lagged into thin air. A small hand found my shoulder and pulled me away from Clotho. Isabel. Her face was unearthly pale, and she watched me with fearful eyes. She shook her head slowly, once.

  Clotho had recovered herself remarkably fast, but then, she always did. “I haven’t kept anyone against their will, Ashrael. Isabel is our guest.” She stroked a fond hand down the girl’s hair, which Isabel flinched away from. “Our honored guest,” she said, for anyone listening. The entire room strained to catch the bits and pieces of our conversation. That was to be expected, of course. Isabel was an enigma, one they were all desperate to solve. No one knew where she fell in the angelic hierarchy. She was not human; she was not angel. She was an unknown element, possibly a dangerous one.

  Violence simmered inside me, bubbling up like a volcano. It scalded me. I wanted to smash Fate: to crush and destroy her, along with all of her vile lies. I gritted my teeth, and forced an even tone to my voice. “You said that you meant to keep the girl for observation. If no threat were detected, then she was free to go.” Isabel’s hand was at my elbow, tense as a wire, silently cautioning me. “As you can see, she has been no threat to anyone. She is little more than human. Set her free.”

  Clotho shook her massive head of over-dressed hair. She looked at me as if she almost pitied me. Then that predatory glint lit her eyes, once more. “Oh, Ashrael, you mistake me. I never meant to hold the girl as prisoner. One cannot observe a butterfly in captivity. Why, look at how lovely she is this evening. She simply lights up the ballroom. She is such a sweet little thing.”

  The crowd turned away slowly, back to their own pursuits. Angelic in nature, or not, they lose interest easily. They continued to listen, of course, but at least some of them remembered their manners. I raised my voice. “So you will release her?” I knew better than to believe her lies, but I wanted witnesses to hear her say the words. The more the better. Should Isabel get to go home, anyone coming after her would be in clear violation of an Elder’s wish. They would be fair game.

  “Of course we will release her, Ashrael, she has been a model guest.” I glanced at Isabel. Her face was guarded.

  “Not so fast, Clotho. That human, or whatever she is, still presents a known threat.” Suriel. I might have known he could not keep his mouth shut.

  Clotho turned towards Suriel with a seductive smile. “I think the girl would best be judged in her own environment, don’t you, darling?” She lay her hand against his jaw in a familiar gesture. He seemed to melt into it. He was so easily swayed by Fate. “That way, we can see for ourselves just how human the girl still is,” she purred close to his ear. “It is the only fair thing to do.”

  “I don’t like it, Clotho. It is too risky.”

  “Don’t be silly, Suriel. I believe Ashrael will be glad to supervise the girl. He is, admittedly, her babysitter, after all. Let him babysit her.” Clotho tittered at her own little joke. If only she were as clever as she believed.

  Enough of this. “Suriel?” Proud, dark eyes turned on me. “May I have a word with you, in private?” He nodded. I had a bargain that even he could not refuse, and it would buy Isabel her freedom.

  Chapter 19…Izzy

  Mairya’s wake was finally over. At least for me. Wake…party…sideshow, more like it. I felt like I was Fate’s pet freak. She’d dressed me up like a doll and trotted me out for everyone to see. Literally, dozens of pairs of eyes had watched my every move, all evening long. Some were fascinated, some were disgusted, and all had judged me. Did they know I’d been the one to kill Mairya, or did they only suspect? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter; if they had proof it was me, then I would already be dead. I was just so tired of being scared all of the time. I was worried for my family, for Asher, for myself. It was exhausting.

  Clotho had used me to taunt Asher, and I was afraid it might have worked. Asher had looked almost jealous to see me talking to that demi-demon, and on the one hand, that made my heart leap and do a little happy dance. On the other hand, jealousy was the last thing I wanted Asher to feel for me. That would only give Clotho hope that she would get what she wanted, eventually.

  After Asher walked away with Suriel for a few moments, my heart had dropped into my stomach. There was zero chance of getting out of this mess alive, much less unharmed. Suriel obviously didn’t know about the sick game Clotho was determined to play, but it was clear that he wanted me put down like some rabid animal.

  Incredibly, when he and Asher came back, Suriel was all smiles. Whatever Asher had said to him, it had made him ridiculously happy. He even grabbed Clotho around the waist and danced her out to the middle of the dance floor. To my surprise, she flounced away without putting up a fight, just gave me a pointed look from over her shoulder and smiled that evil smile of hers.

  Asher walked toward me slowly. He arched his brow at me and tilted his head as if he were studying me. Then he made a “come here” motion with his finger. My heart kicked up a few beats. I had to get away from him, for his own good, if not for mine. I started to back away from him. “Where are you going, Isabel?” Where, indeed? That was the question, wasn’t it?

  “Um, I forgot I left something in my room. Be right back.” I felt the need to run. I rushed past Asher and through the crowd without looking back at him. I knew he would follow me, and I also knew that I shouldn’t want him to. He needed to stay as far from me as possible.

  No one tried to stop me as I fled the ballroom. I took the stairs to my room two at a time, and prayed that I wouldn’t trip over the hem of my floor-length gown. At least the sandals I had on were flats instead of heels; strappy silver things that were otherwise useless, but very pretty. There was, however, no way to really run in them without turning an ankle. My heartbeat was in my throat by the time I got to my room. Asher was right behind me, so close I felt his breath on the nape of my neck, and I shivered. I turned on him, almost panicked. “What are you doing? She’s going to catch you here, Asher. You have to leave.” He stalked me inside the room, and kicked the door shut with his heel. I swallowed hard. I needed to get him out of here, before Clotho found out.

  “Hush. Calm yourself, girl.” Asher ran his hand down my bare arm from my shoulder to my hand, and strangely, it did calm me. For about two seconds, before I realized I was alone with him, with the door shut. A couple of days ago, that might have been a welcomed thing, but now there were just too many possibilities. It was too dangerous.

  Asher’s hand clasped mine tightly and pulled me towards the over-stuffed, white sofa. “I have something to tell you, Isabel; something to share with you, as well.” I pulled my hand from his reluctantly, and crossed my arms over my chest. He sat down like he had all the time in the world, and patted the seat next to him for me to sit. I had to get rid of him; one way, or the other.

  “I’m good right here, thanks.”

  His grin turned wolfish. “You will be better over here. Now, come to me, please.”

  “What for? I’m comfortable over here. You really should probably go, Asher.” The stupid purple dress Clotho insisted I wear, didn’t cover much. I had goose bumps rising along my arms and down my bare back.

  His grin turned into a scowl quickly. “Does everything have to be an argument?” He wasn’t going anywhere. Stubborn.

  I shrugged. “What are you doing here?”

  “Fine,” he sighed in frustration, and leaned back against the sofa with his hands on his thighs. From a purely analytical standpoint, I have to say he looked awfully good lounging against that creamy white sofa like that. He was big and blonde, and that almost-tux he wore did terrible things to my common sense. He looked, in Gwen-speak, delectable. And dangerous as hell. I backed up a couple of steps. I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. Stand too close to the fire, and you get burned.

  “Come to me, Isabel. I w
ill not hurt you.”

  I flashed a smile, and barely stopped a nervous laugh. “Said the big, bad wolf.”

  His eyelids lowered and he smiled a slow smile that could melt butter; it certainly had me turning into a little pile of goo. “Come here.”

  I had to keep my distance. “What’s on your mind, Asher?” From the look in his eyes, he was up to no good, but that was a stupid thought, wasn’t it? Why would he be looking at me like that? The big, bad wolf, indeed.

  “I could just come get you, you know.” His voice lowered into a rumbling purr. “A little cooperation never killed anyone.”

  “I guess you would know,” I giggled nervously at my own stupid joke. Something about the way he looked at me had me moving closer, though, inch by inch.

  This was insane. He was the freaking Angel of Death, and I was worried about how I would manage to protect him from me. Clearly my priorities were messed up. Maybe. I was so mixed up that I just didn’t know anymore. I took another step closer to him. He waited patiently; like he had nothing but time on his side.

  One more step and I was within his reach. He watched my reaction carefully as he pulled me down to sit beside him. I didn’t bolt and run, although every instinct inside me screamed for me to do so. I was afraid of him, but not for the reasons he thought. I knew that Asher wouldn’t hurt me. He’d had every opportunity. Hell, if Fate were to be believed, I was the one who would end up hurting him. To be honest, I was afraid of myself. I had some extremely wicked thoughts dancing through my head every time he touched me, and now I knew how dangerous those thoughts were. This was just too close for comfort.

  This was painful. Even if he wanted me, I could never have him; not with all the crazy shit Clotho had in mind for him. Even entertaining the idea was beyond stupid. It’s like being told you can’t have chocolate; you just want it that much more. And Asher was far more tempting than chocolate.

  “See, that was not so bad, was it?” I shook my head and tried not to stare at his mouth. Or his eyes. Or anything else, if I could help it.

  “I don’t suppose you came to break me out of here, did you?”

  That same slow smile came again. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Suriel and I made a deal.” I stiffened when he spoke the archangel’s name. “He will not bother you again. I promise you.” That sounded too good to be true, and I was always leery of things that were too good to be true.

  “Go on.” I did a pretty good job of ignoring the goose bumps running up my arm from where he still hadn’t let go of me. I just hoped he didn’t notice.

  “You will be going home soon, but we need to prepare you; make you stronger so you will not be so dependent on me. Also, it should stop you from accidentally draining the energies of those around you.” It would be nice not to constantly worry about that.

  “What did you have in mind?” I had trouble concentrating. I thought he meant for me to feed from his energy like he’d taught me to. Although, the idea of laying a hand on him at all, left me slightly breathless and blushing to the roots of my hair. I was doing a lousy job of running him off, for his own good.

  “I have to give you some more of my blood. A good deal of it.” And all my happy, hormonal, teenaged thoughts went flying right out the window. Total buzz-kill.

  “Um, ewww. No, thanks.” The very idea of sucking someone’s blood was just revolting. Not to mention, highly unsanitary. “Besides, what will it do to me? I’m already less than human.”

  “No, you are more than human, never believe otherwise.” He sighed softly. “This should only enhance the abilities you have already developed. I am sorry, but there is no other option, now. I can protect you most of the time, but I have to make sure that you can protect yourself, in case I cannot. We have no way of knowing if the incident with Mairya was a new ability, or simply luck.” I shook my head, still stubbornly unconvinced. “Suriel’s word cannot be trusted. Clotho is as treacherous as a she-demon. She likes to play with her victims; give them hope before destroying them. The things coming for you, will come for your family, as well.”

  “I already know what she’s got in mind. We need to talk about that.” My stomach did a slow turn, and not in a good way. Would he blame me? Think I was in on her stupid plan from the start? Would he leave me?

  “We will talk about it, but later, once you are home; we do not have much time, now. Do this for your family, if you will not do it for yourself.” Those silvery, grey eyes looked right through me. “Do it for me.”

  Would it matter, really, if I told him Clotho was a psychotic bitch? He seemed to already know it. “You don’t play fair, Asher.”

  He smiled, and knew that he’d won this argument. “No one ever said that Death was fair. I certainly never claimed to be.”

  “Tee, hee. Nice joke.” I sighed, ran my hands through my hair to get it off my face, “I don’t suppose you have another option you’d like to propose? Something a little less gory?” He shook his head. I blew out a nervous breath. “Fine, let’s get this over with. Um, how do you want to do it? How did you do it before, when you were sneaking blood to me?”

  For the first time since I’d met him, Asher looked just the tiniest bit guilty. “A sliced hand, usually, but this will have to be something larger.” Um, yeah, cause the idea of sucking blood from his cupped hand was just a little more than my poor heart could take.

  “Which do you prefer; neck or wrist?” He might’ve been asking what I’d like for lunch. Ham or turkey? Artery or vein?

  My eyebrows must have been somewhere near my hairline. “You must be joking.”

  He shook his head, deadly serious. “I would never joke about something like this. Keep in mind, time is a factor, so hurry.”

  Oh, the choices. “Wrist.” If he insisted on doing this, then his wrist seemed like a safer choice. Taking blood from his throat just seemed too intimate. Not to mention, the logistics. I was too short to comfortably reach his neck, if I were standing, and would have to climb up on something to do it. It was either that, or lay across his chest. That was a mortifying thought.

  It wasn’t until he scooted back against the arm of the sofa to make room for me that I realized my mistake. There just isn’t any easy way to take blood from a wrist, unless it’s facing you. I would have to sit with my back against his chest in order for this to work. Oh, hell no, not a good idea. I’d just started to move next to him when I jumped to my feet and began pacing, trying to figure a way out of my predicament. So far I was coming up with a stunningly blank mind.

  Asher stood and watched me like a predator. He opened his arms for me and waited patiently. He stood like stone, his face unreadable; he had all the time in the world. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and knew that my time was almost up. I tried not to think about what I was about to do.

  My palms were sweating and my heart was racing. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t go to him like he wanted. Realizing this, Asher came to me. I caught my breath as he circled around me. He pulled me back against his chest and the butterflies in my stomach sprang to life and took flight. I took a shaky breath and prayed I wouldn’t make an ass of myself by passing out. He was so warm against my bare back. I wanted to sink into him, but forced myself to straighten up.

  That subtle scent of leather and spice was everywhere and it made me lightheaded. Why did he always smell so good? Why was I such an idiot? “Relax, girl. I will not bite.” He smoothed my hair over one shoulder, presumably so he could see what he was doing, but I swear I heard him sniff my neck. I stood in the circle of his arms and I felt dwarfed. Chills ran all the way to my toes. I saw him bring a small pocket knife up and I started to step out of his embrace.

  “What’s that for?”

  “It is just something to make the cut. Calm down, this will only take a little while, and then it will be done.”

  “You’re sure I have to do this? I don’t want to do this, Asher.” A fine edge of panic crept into my voice. I’d been doing things that I didn’t want to do the entire time I
’d been here.

  “If there were another way, I would do that. This way is best. Now, close your eyes.”

  “Why?” Suspicious? Me? Nah.

  “Do you trust me?” His voice was soothing, almost whispery, and calming to my frazzled nerves. I nodded. I did trust him, crazy as that may be, but this was pushing the limit. “Then, close your eyes and relax into me. You don’t have to watch me make the cut. It will be easier for you, this way.” He had to go being all logical and considerate. I closed my eyes, and held my breath till I saw little starbursts of light behind my eyelids.

  Asher’s breath tickled against my ear. “Breathe, girl. Relax. Be calm.” His hand came up and rubbed the tension from my neck in long, slow strokes. If he wanted me to relax, that wasn’t going to do it. My goose bumps had goose bumps, and I was tense as a bow string. In spite of that, I found myself relaxing against him.

  His hand moved away and a few moments later I felt him stroke my jaw with his right hand. “Open your mouth.” His fingers brushed against my lower lip, and I barely stopped myself from whimpering. I should be disgusted, and yet I found myself more than a little turned on, and I was ashamed.

  Warmth hit my lips and instinctively, I opened them. I heard him hiss against my ear and I froze. “Did I hurt you?” I never heard him make a peep when he made the cut.

  “No, continue.” His voice sounded unusually rough, almost pained.

  Asher’s wrist pressed firmly against my lips again and I swallowed to get it over with. About a thousand vampire novels would have blood be some sweet, succulent treat that is always highly desirable; like chocolate dipped in honey and wrapped in cheesecake. In reality, it is both salty and coppery, and it is hot. It tastes like pennies; very thick, and metallic. At least that’s what Asher’s blood tasted like. I kept my eyes clamped tightly shut and willed myself to do what had to be done. As long as I didn’t think about it I had a pretty good shot at keeping it down. After all, he’d fed me blood before, when I didn’t know he’d done it. This was a piece of cake.