Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series

by Sherri A. Wingler

  I got out of bed and padded quietly down the hallway to my dad’s bathroom. His room was just across the hall, and I could hear him snoring through his closed door. Must be nice, I thought. I didn’t want to wake him up for no reason. He needed sleep, and he didn’t need to be worried about me. So I very quietly rummaged around in his medicine cabinet. I found some herbal sleep remedy, and some Tylenol PM.

  I’ve never been a patient sort of person, so I went for the Tylenol. I only took one because they give me really weird, lucid dreams. Also more than one, and I wake up mean and bitchy. But it was desperate times. I had to get some sleep before I hurt someone. So I popped the pill in my mouth and took a drink straight from the faucet. I wiped the water off of my chin with the back of my hand and caught my reflection in the mirror as I shut the cabinet.

  Asher’s jackass friend was right; I had bags under my eyes I could have packed a lunch in. That was a sneaky trick he’d pulled off: pretending to be a fortune teller. He’d been right. Change, choice, and disaster; that summed up my autumn, so far. I had been changed, for sure. I wasn’t even sure if I was technically human, anymore.

  As for choice, I wasn’t so sure I had ever had any choice, at all. Fate had used me from the beginning. Hell, way before the beginning. I was nothing but a science experiment, to her. I can hold a grudge as well as the next girl, but her kind of dedication took crazy to a whole new level. Maybe I would have been better off not remembering all of my problems. I might have gotten something like a normal life back. I sighed. Too late.

  I thought of the grinning skeleton on the Death card, and shivered a little. Was Grim messing with me, or had I legitimately picked that particular card? What were the chances? Death is everyone’s fate, but for me there was more than one way to look at it. Was Asher my fate? Or was the card meant to be taken more literally? Just thinking about it gave me a headache. Oh, well, the Tylenol would take care of that for me, soon enough.

  Asher obviously had wanted to keep me in the dark, or he wouldn’t have tried to take my memories, in the first place. On the other hand, Asher had seemed extremely happy to see me earlier, if that kiss was anything to go by. That kiss…a wave of heat swept up my throat, and into my cheeks, at the thought. I’d better not think about that. I probably shouldn’t think of the way he’d held me in the funhouse, either. Or think about the way the mirror had shattered.

  I was losing my mind. In the very least, I was turning into someone I barely recognized. I had a dozen things I should be worried about, besides how soft and silky Asher’s lips had felt…or the scrape of his beard against my throat. Idiot, I scolded myself. Damned, stupid idiot.

  I shut the light off, and closed the bathroom door softly behind me. Then I sneaked back to bed as quietly as I could. Jazzy streaked through my door just as I was shutting it. She hopped up on the bed and made herself at home on my pillows, kneading and fluffing the material to make herself a little nest. I laid down next to her and rubbed her ears the way she liked. This was our nightly ritual. She fluffed my pillows while I petted her. She had me well trained. Her eyes closed to green slits as she rubbed her chin against my hand, marking me as hers.

  No longer satisfied with her nest of pillows, she curled up around my head, purring happily, and loudly while she tried to fluff my hair into a bird’s nest. I had gathered all of my hair on top of my head and secured it into a giant bun, but she would get most of it loose, by morning. So much for waking up tangle-free. It did no good pushing her away, either. She’d just meow indignantly and start all over again.

  I turned the light off, and rolled over on my side, in an effort to get comfortable. There was still a little light filtering in from the streetlight outside my window, but it was dark enough that it wouldn’t disturb me if I actually fell asleep. A tiny dagger-like claw caught the back of my head, too close to the scalp, and I dragged my comforter partially up over my head for protection. At least that way, she was less likely to draw blood, if she got carried away before she fell asleep. I was pretty sure she’d been a hairdresser in her last life. A bad one, but extremely enthusiastic about her job.

  I lay in the semi-darkness and listened to the beat of my own pulse. If I concentrated hard, I could hear the much faster drumming of Jazzy’s little heart. It was there, just beneath that rumbling purr of hers. I stuffed my pillows under my head at a more comfortable angle and was rewarded with an indignant whine from my cat. She was such a diva.

  I wondered if Alex had really made it home ok, or if Asher had landed him in Siberia, or someplace equally unpleasant. I thought about calling to make sure he was alright, but it was already pretty late, and what could I say? I didn’t know if he remembered anything that had happened. Also, I didn’t want him thinking I was a crazy, stalker girl.

  For all I knew, Asher had wiped his memory of the night out completely. I hated to think about what kind of memories Asher might plant to wipe out the date we never got to finish. If he kept messing with his head like that, he would give him brain rot, or something worse. I didn’t want anything bad happening to Alex, not because of me.

  Alex was a problem, for sure; he obviously liked me, and he wasn’t playing games about it like a lot of high school boys would. I felt bad about him, but I didn’t know what to do about it, not without coming off as a heartless bitch. He was a great guy, and if I had never met Asher, I would have been thrilled to be with him. But I had met Asher, and I would never be the same again, because of him.

  I was something different, now. I wanted more than what Alex could give me. I also knew, without a doubt, that if I had kissed Alex the way I’d kissed Asher, it probably would have killed him. It was probably a good thing that Asher had interfered, the way he had. I was poison, and the messed up thing was, I was pretty much ok with that.

  Asher was the one I wanted. The thought of him thrilled and terrified me. Not because he was Death, either. There was so much more to it than that. It was because, well, whatever he’d turned me into, he was my match. He could handle whatever I threw at him. We couldn’t break each other. Something inside me recognized and accepted him just as he was, and wanted him, anyway.

  And there was the irony; no matter how much I wanted Asher, I couldn’t have him, either. Fate had made sure of that. I was poison for him, too. The minute I gave into what I wanted most, the trap would snap shut on both of us, and that crazy bitch would win.

  I groaned and flipped over onto my back. Jazzy made a huge production of fluffing and rearranging herself because of my thoughtlessness. Drama Queen. What did she care? She slept twenty hours a day. Must be nice. My eyes closed as I waited impatiently for sleep. Which still didn’t seem to be happening.

  All I could see was the stricken look on Asher’s face, when he’d tried to kiss me again, in the funhouse, and I’d turned my face away. How could I explain to him that I did it for him? I was ashamed of myself, for acting like that, but what else could I do? Pushing him away was the only way to save him. He was so stubborn; even if I’d warned him about Fate’s stupid little game, he wouldn’t have listened.

  Jazzy got a little too enthusiastic with her fluffing, and I winced as she caught the top of my ear with a claw. I sighed, disgusted. I should be worried about surviving all the things Fate had in store for me. I should be worried about my family and friends. Instead, I was keeping myself awake by worrying about my love life. Asher’s friend was right; my love life was a mess. Oh, well, I could always get a few more cats and die alone, probably wearing a ratty bathrobe, and smelling faintly of cheese. I was well on my way to becoming a crazy cat lady, anyway. I might as well get it over with.

  I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe deeply, and evenly. I started to feel the effects of the sleeping pill: my limbs grew heavy, and I felt kind of dizzy. The headache had backed off, a little. That was something. Maybe I would get to sleep, after all. At least my mind wasn’t racing a mile a minute, anymore. It seemed that when it came down to it, my mind wanted to concentrate on only one th
ing. That kiss. I fell asleep, finally, thinking about that stolen kiss.

  It didn’t surprise me that I would dream of Asher. Sometime in the night, that unmistakable scent of spiced leather surrounded me. I felt myself smiling in my sleep. Warmth enveloped me as the bed seemed to sink in the middle. I rolled into the dip and curled against his side. He was so warm and solid. Here was happiness, and safety. Here was everything I wanted. I sighed, content and happy, for the first time in ages, and stretched out against him.

  A large hand played against my neck and a shiver ran through me. I’d missed him so much; missed the connection I felt every time he touched me. “Am I dreaming?” It came out as a sleepy mumble.

  The hand stilled, hesitated. “Yes,” he said, quietly.

  I smiled, delighted. I might have even giggled a little bit. “Good.” If I was dreaming, then it didn’t really matter what I did. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my nose in his neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good.” His arm came up and I felt him playing with my hair. I arched my back like a cat, shamelessly begging for attention. A tiny butterfly kiss landed just below my ear. “I missed you, so much.”

  “As I have missed you. Sleep, now. You need your rest.”

  I certainly couldn’t argue that point. I was exhausted, and it was the best sleep of my life: deep and peaceful. Until I rolled onto Jazzy’s tail in the wee hours of the morning, and was rewarded with a screaming, clawing, highly violated cat. That’s when I realized that Jazzy wasn’t the only one I shared my bed with. For real. Asher wasn’t a dream, after all. Jazzy and I weren’t alone.

  I didn’t stop to think, I just reacted. Unfortunately, that reaction involved a hard kick to the spine that landed Asher out in the middle of my floor with a loud thump. It shocked me that I’d been able to move him, at all, but I was much stronger than I looked, these days. I probably should have felt worse about booting him into the floor, but he kind of deserved it. I didn’t invite him to take up most of my bed.

  “Holy freaking crap!” I sat up and flipped on the bedside lamp. “What the hell were you doing?” I wanted to scream at him, but remembered that my dad was asleep down the hall, and it came out in a strangled whisper.

  Asher swept a hand over his eyes as he picked himself up off the floor. I don’t think I’d ever seen him look more human, or more annoyed. “I was sleeping,” he bit out, shortly. “As you were, before that little she-demon woke us both up.” The little she-demon just glared at him from my pillow, as she washed her paws. Clearly, she wasn’t impressed with him, either.

  “No. I mean what the hell were you doing in my bed?”

  Asher brushed himself off and lay back down on my bed, with his hands laced behind his head, looking for all the world, perfectly relaxed. “I thought I just explained that. I was sleeping.”

  “You know exactly what I meant,” I hissed at him. I was mortified; what had I said, or done in my sleep? He was messing with me, and on purpose. I jumped up, pacing, until I noticed him smiling. His smile cracked open and laughter rumbled out, deep and low. It did funny things to my insides when he laughed like that. Which only annoyed me even more. “What is so damned funny?”

  Asher pointed at the mirror behind me. I spun on the rug, hands on hips, and stopped dead in my tracks. Oh. My. God. My hair looked like I’d been tortured and electrocuted, but not necessarily in that order. Some of it hung past my shoulders. Some of it still remained in the top-knot. Most of it stood up in nearly-black spikes around my head, and the purple streaks made it all the more interesting. Kind of like modern sculpture gone hideously wrong.

  I yanked the hair tie out and beat my hair into submission, even before I grabbed the fuzzy, pink bathrobe from the hook next to my door. I had on pajama bottoms, but the little blue tank top left me feeling far too exposed.

  “Jazzy likes to play in my hair while I sleep.” My voice came out sounding sullen. I shouldn’t have to defend myself, or my cat to him. He wasn’t supposed to be tucked into my bed in the first place.

  Asher watched my hasty movements, his eyes crinkled at the corners. At least he was no longer laughing at me outright. “You drool in your sleep, you know. It is entirely charming.” He smiled broadly. Damn, if he ever gave up being Death incarnate, he could be a comedian. Funny bastard.

  “Be glad I didn’t fart,” I said spitefully. “Nobody asked you, anyway. It’s four in the morning. You’re not supposed to be here.” I was tired of repeating myself, but he didn’t seem to grasp the gravity of this situation. That, or he just didn’t care.

  He rolled over on his side, patted the mattress next to him. “Come back to bed. I promise I will not bite.”

  I snorted. “I’ve heard that before. You can’t be trusted.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stood awkwardly next to my bed. “Go away. I’m tired.”

  “So am I.” Asher’s voice gentled, enticing me. “Come lay down. It has been a long week. I have missed you.”

  “If you missed me, that’s your own fault. You were the one who decided to leave me.” I eyed him suspiciously. “I didn’t think angels had to sleep.” Mistrusting? Nah, not me. He’d already proved that he couldn’t be trusted.

  “I do not have to sleep, just as I do not have to eat, but occasionally, I like to do it anyway. I would love to do it, now. If you would just be a good girl and cooperate.”

  “You can’t be in here. My dad—“

  “Is still snoring happily away down the hall. Now, shut the light off, if you please.” He rolled over onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes. He took up most of my full-sized bed. Even his feet were hanging over. At least he had taken his boots off, before climbing into bed with me unannounced. There was just something intimate about his socked feet dangling off the end of my bed. I felt myself begin to blush.

  Had I really not known he was asleep next to me? Really? But I did know, didn’t I? If I were being honest with myself, then yes. I’d dreamed of him. I’d loved dreaming of him. Oh, hell, what had I said in my sleep? What horrible things had I done in my sleep? If it were possible to die of embarrassment, I probably would have.

  I shifted from foot to foot. He didn’t seem to be leaving. I could go sleep in the guest room, but it was my bed, after all. Also, I didn’t think I could come up with a reasonable explanation for my dad, should he find out that I’d switched rooms.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed, poised to run should he lay so much as a finger on me. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

  “I know.” He sort of sighed, as he said it.

  It was really late, or really early, depending on how you looked at it. I got up long enough to jump under the covers, bathrobe and all. I turned my back on him as I shut out the light, and curled into the tightest ball I could, in an effort to make myself smaller. “Stay on your side of the bed. Above the covers.”

  “Alright,” came his careful answer. “May I ask how long you plan to be angry with me?”

  “A very long time. You did a terrible thing.” I was glad it was dark, and he couldn’t see my crossed fingers.

  ***

  It had been three days. Three long days of not talking to Asher any more than I had to. It was killing me because I really wanted to. I wanted that easy way we’d had with one another before the shit had hit the fan, and Fate had made it clear that there would be no happy ending, not for anyone.

  Asher seemed content not to force the issue. A man would have pushed and pushed to get a reaction out of me; forced an argument, just to get it over with. Only, Asher wasn’t human. He’d had all of eternity to learn, and practice patience. He seemed perfectly happy to wear me down just by close proximity. And it was working.

  By day, I could sense him close to me, even if I couldn’t see him, and every night he slept next to me. Never touching. Never talking, unless I said something, first. He was just there, always close enough to reach out and touch. That was the worst part; I wanted desperately to curl up against him and know that everything woul
d be alright. And I couldn’t. I remembered Fate’s warning, only too well. She wanted to watch his heart be broken.

  There was only one way out that I could see; if I couldn’t pull off what she wanted, she had no further use for me. My family would be out of harm’s way. Asher could go about his way as though he’d never met me, which would be better for him, in the long run. Wouldn’t it? As for me, well, what did it really matter what I wanted? I was willing to pay the price, to keep them all safe.

  I had to tell him. There was no other way around it. I just wasn’t sure when I would do it. No time would be the right time. It sounded crazy to come out with, ‘Oh, by the way, you can’t fall in love with me, because the minute you do, I have to break your heart. That really sucks, because I think I may love you, too. That’s why I’ve been such a hateful bitch to you for days. Sorry about your luck.’

  Even thinking about it made me squirm in humiliation, but I had to tell him. No matter how embarrassing it might be, for me. I would just gloss over the part about maybe being in love with him. He needed to know the truth, but not the whole truth. I could keep that little tidbit to myself.

  Once the truth was out, it would set everyone free. Asher could leave me alone, Fate could rot in whatever Hell there was, and I could go back to my dull, but comfortable little life. Maybe someday, when I was about to die of natural causes, his would be the last face I saw. I hoped so.

  ***

  I saw the little girl again. The one from the Jack O’ Lantern Festival, who reminded me of a little china doll. I didn’t see the little boy who’d been with her, but maybe he was hiding. She certainly didn’t seem to be. She’d been watching me for the past twenty minutes as I put up some last minute Halloween decorations.

  I wasn’t doing any major decorating. For that I would have waited on Gwen to help me, but she was at her self-defense class. I was just throwing a few spider webs up and putting some caution tape up around my front porch. Just to spook the place up a little. It was nice doing something normal, for a change, instead of worrying about all the supernatural craziness that surrounded me.