Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series (2 page)

     “Voila!” Gwen whipped her mirror
out finally, but held it just out of my reach. “You sure you want to see this?”

     “Yeah, gimme.” I snagged the mirror
and brought it up to my face. For just a second I wasn’t sure of what I was
seeing.  My face looked kind of like a patchwork quilt of bruises. I had
perfectly formed purple rings around both eyes.  The bridge of my nose was
black. The lower lip was busted and swollen. “You’re right. I do look like shit.”
I handed her mirror back to her with a sigh.

     “On the bright side, Iz, the purple
really brings out the green in your eyes.”  She smiled at her own joke.

     I snorted. “Cool. Remind me to get
some new eye shadow to match it when I get out of here, and maybe some
industrial-strength concealer.”  I grabbed the cup of water the night
nurse had left for me and took a sip. At least that nasty taste seemed to leave
my mouth as the morning wore on.  “I’m gonna guess I’m so sexy because of
the air bag going off in my face. Did you happen to hear what happened to the
other driver?”

     She looked down and started picking
at what was left of her glittery pink nail polish. “I don’t think he made it,”
she said quietly.  “I heard he was texting when he hit you.”  That
gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I thought of the guy’s family.
Then I thought of my own.  Death was too close that night. Gwen reached
out and patted my hand lightly. “Are you ok?”

     “Yeah, I’m ok. Everything just
seems kind of unreal right now.”  I shifted in my bed, testing to see how
far I could move without hurting myself. Things weren’t hurting much at all,
for some reason.  I used the bed controls to raise the head of my bed up,
then I wiggled my toes and realized my butt was almost numb. “Do you think the
nurses would freak if I tried to get out of bed?” 

     I really did want to get up, but I
also wanted to change the subject.  Someone had actually died in that
wreck, and I just wasn’t ready to deal with it, yet.

     Gwen’s perfectly arched brows shot
up toward her hairline. “Iz, do you think that’s a good idea? You’ve been
asleep for days. Seriously, the doctors didn’t seem to think you were gonna
make it.”

     “All the more reason to get out of
bed, don’t you think?”

    “Ok, but at least let me call the nurse
so we don’t get in trouble.”  She grabbed the call button and mashed it
before I could stop her.  “Besides, I wouldn’t even begin to know which
tubes or wires to unplug to get you up out of that bed.”

     The morning nurse came rushing in.
She looked absolutely shocked to see me sitting up and awake. “Excuse me, but
I’d like to get up now.”

     She nodded.  “Alright, Miss
Maitland, just let me check with your doctor first.  We don’t want to get
you up too soon.” She spun around and left before I had time to form a decent
argument.

     It took almost an hour to get hold
of the doctor and even longer to assure her that I felt fine enough to get up.
By the time everything was said and done, I was almost ready to give up, but
I’m anything, if not persistent.  My dad showed up right about the time I
got the pins and needles worked out of my shaking legs.  I shuffled around
the end of my bed, dragging my I.V. stand behind me.  Gwen had solved the
whole problem of my hiney hanging out of my hospital gown by asking for another
gown. She draped that over me like a coat so I wouldn’t flash anyone in the
hallway. I even had some of those cool hospital socks with the rubber grips on
the soles.  I was totally stylin’.

     “Isabel Maitland, what do you think
you’re doing?” Dad set his coffee cup down on the rolling table that held my
ice water. Uh oh, busted.

     “I think I’m tired of laying
around, so Gwen offered to walk me down the hallway.” Gwen stared at me hard.
So I stretched the truth a little.  She really didn’t offer to take
me.  It was more like she got drafted into taking me for a walk. 
Whatever works. I was ready to get up and move around.  “The lady doc Ok’d
me getting up. I just can’t go very far. Around the nurse’s station and back.”
He just stared at me. “Did you get a nap, and something to eat?”

     “I got a shower, which was better
than a nap.  And just so you know, I can tell when you’re trying to change
the subject; I’m smart like that.” He put the bags he carried down on the
floor, next to the chair. “I brought you some toothpaste and mouthwash, by the
way. And some girly stuff; lotion and lip balm. Although I didn’t think you’d
be in any shape to use them so quickly.”  Girly stuff; I almost giggled. 
Going into my bathroom must have been horrible for him.  He did not like
dealing with
girly stuff
.

     “Thanks, Dad.” He gave me an
awkward hug. My family wasn’t big on hugging to start with, and I was still
hooked into a portable monitor so I had several tubes hanging off of me, which
made it worse.  I had just survived a pretty major wreck, though, so the
ban on hugging was lifted temporarily.  Dad was so happy to see me still
alive, and more or less in one piece it might have been a good time to ask for
a puppy. Or a new car, since I was pretty sure the only thing that survived on
my old car was the license plate.  Maybe not even that.

     “Are you sure you feel like doing
this?  Are you dizzy or anything?”  He was not-so-subtly trying to
turn me back toward my hospital bed.

   “I’m fine, really. Nothing hurts. The drugs
here are top of the line.  I highly recommend them.” 

     Gwen wrapped her arm around me
carefully and helped me get around my dad by guiding my monitor stand with her
free hand.  “Hey, Mr. Maitland. Um, the thing is, you know Izzy’s
hard-headed, so I figure it’s better if we try this while we are both here to
catch her if she falls. Otherwise she’s just gonna go ahead and do it anyway
when we aren’t watching, and probably break an arm or a leg, to go along with
all the other stuff that’s broken.”  She kept running on, and my dad’s
eyes started to glass over, but she accomplished what I couldn’t; he was going
to give in and let me take a walk. If for no other reason than just to shut us up. 
He made a shooing motion with one hand and turned away to unpack the things
he’d brought.

     Sweet freedom! Ok, so it wasn’t
really freedom. I was still dragging my monitor and taking tiny, little old
lady steps, to keep from falling on my head, but I’d gotten out of that bed.
“Thanks, Gwen. You saved me.”  I grinned at her as we rounded the nurse’s
station at a solid crawl.  A turtle could have passed me, but I didn’t
care.  It was progress.

     “No problem. I would break you out
of here, if I could.”

     “If only I…” I broke off, and
quickly shut my mouth.  I had that feeling like someone was watching me.
Not just watching me, but studying me. I looked around behind me, suddenly
paranoid.

     “What’s up, Iz? Did you step on
your cord?  Did I?”

     “No. I just got a weird feeling
like someone was behind us, but there’s nothing back there but more patient
rooms.”

     Gwen glanced over her shoulder.
“Well, there’s a waiting room down the hall a little ways. Want to swing around
and see what we can find to get into?  If nothing else I bet they have
soda machines and I would kill for a Mountain Dew, right now.”

     “Yeah, if you don’t mind. 
Unless you have something better to do, that is?”

     Gwen just laughed at me. “We are on
fall break, Iz. If you weren’t out of commission we would be hanging out at my
house. Or stalking that cutie pie that sits in front of me in English
class.  As you are not available for any of the above, my social calendar
is totally empty.  Besides, you’d come stay with me if I were in the
hospital.”

     I grinned at her. “Can’t argue with
that logic. Lead the way.”

     By the time we made it to the
waiting area, I was a little tired, and felt like an idiot for being
paranoid.  We found vending machines for Gwen’s caffeine fix, and a couple
of women sound asleep on the not-quite-comfortable sofas the hospital
provided. 

     “Did you find what you were looking
for?”  Gwen popped the top on her can of soda and took a long swig. “Oh,
my lord, that is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She sounded all breathless,
like she’d just discovered love for the first time.

     I rolled my eyes.  I wondered
if Mountain Dew counted as the “clear liquids” that the doctor
prescribed.  My mouth watered and I swear I was almost ready to mug my
best friend for her soda.  I turned away while she finished the can; I
just couldn’t watch.  I still had green Jell-O to look forward to.

     “Nope.” I turned back toward the
doorway.  “I must have hit my head harder than I thought.  I’m
imagining things.”  That’s when I smelled it; that spicy scent that
reminded me of leather and herbs. Unless I’d dreamt it, I had smelled that
scent the night of my wreck, and again when I’d woken up last night. 
“Wait, do you smell that?”

     “What?”  She looked at me
expectantly.

     “That.  That smell.  Like
leather, almost.”

     Gwen took a delicate, experimental
sniff.  “I smell large amounts of Lysol and alcohol…maybe a little vanilla
air freshener?  Oh, and just the subtlest hint of sick people.” 

     “You’re a smart ass.”  Once I
smelled it, I couldn’t smell anything else; that scent was everywhere.
  I turned in every direction, as I tried to locate the source. “What
the crap? I smell it, I swear I do.”

     “Chill out, Iz.  I believe
you. It may just be part of the head injury, though. I’ve heard of people
hitting their heads and smelling weird stuff for a while, afterwards. Or even
seeing colors wrong, or halos around things.  You did hit your head really
hard.  Thank goodness it’s so hard, or you might not be here, now.”

     “Yeah, maybe,” I said, distracted,
“but this scent is strong.  It smells like a guy’s cologne, almost. 
The really expensive kind.  Not like grandpa’s Old Spice.  Are you
sure you can’t smell that?”

     She gave me a worried look; all
traces of her usual sarcasm were gone.   “I don’t smell it. Maybe you
should tell your doctor about it later, though?”

     “Yeah, maybe I should.”  I
shrugged. “I guess it could be worse. At least it’s a good smell I have stuck
up my nose and not road kill, or skunk.”

     Isabel. The girl drew me back to
her.  It must have been the blood; it sang to me, even haunted me.  I
found no peace until I returned to her.  So I found her in that hospital.
I stole into her room like a thief in the night.  Her body was badly
beaten; bones were broken and organs were damaged.  She endured great
pain, and still, her soul was as bright and untarnished as a new penny. 
She was a temptation and a distraction; one I could ill afford. 

     I watched her sleeping for a long
time.  She slept fitfully, moaning occasionally from her many cuts and
bruises.  I had made a mistake.  I should never have interfered with
this girl.  Letting her live went against every law of the known universe. 
Time and Fate decide such things. Death just carries out the sentence they hand
down. 

     I found myself beside her bed,
ready to stop her heart, and correct my mistake.  My fingers hovered just
above her chest.  It was a simple matter of exerting my Will.  My
hand clenched and unclenched into a fist.  I could not seem to force my
Will to do my bidding.  How strange. 

     She looked so small and pitiful in
that hospital bed; too weak to recover on her own.  Large bruises covered
much of the creamy skin beneath her eyes.  Foolish old monster that I am,
I found myself wishing she would open her eyes and see me; really see me and
not shy away in fear.  Her eyes, I remembered, were green.  The clear
green of the finest emeralds.

     Isabel twitched in her dreaming and
whimpered in her sleep.  Something uncurled inside me and sighed.  I
could not do it.  I could not take her life.  What is one life in the
big scheme of things?  It is nothing.  Who, really, would I offend in
letting her live?  Fate and Time had overlooked this girl.  It had
not been her time to pass.  I would harm no one in letting her live.

     There is an old saying, about the
road to Hell being paved with good intentions.  I cannot say, in all
honesty, that my intentions were truly good.  My intentions were purely
selfish, perhaps, but I came to a decision as I watched her sleeping. 
Something inside of me wanted this girl to live.  

     She would need to be strengthened,
if she were to recover fully; her injuries were too many, and too great. 
Just a few more drops of my blood would help her heal enough to get out of this
wretched hospital. 

     A quick glance about the room
revealed nothing sharp.  No matter.  A tiny surge of Will and the
nails on my right hand grew into razor sharp claws.  A cheap party trick,
but it comes in handy every so often.  I dragged the nail of my forefinger
across the palm of my left hand and watched blood well up in the wound, thick
and dark.  I tipped the blood into her sleeping mouth as the wound healed
and my nails went back to their normal shape.

     Isabel scrunched her face up and
moved away from my hand at the taste of blood.  I stroked her cheek, and
her mouth opened.  She took more of my blood. The binding was
strengthened, and my sin was compounded. 

    I stayed close to her for a few days
after that; just to make sure the binding would last, and that she would heal
properly.  I could not have her wrecking my handiwork, could I?  Of
course, that was the lie I told myself at the time.

     I discovered that the girl could
sense me. How interesting.  She had felt me watching her while she and her
friend took their little stroll down the hallway. Her senses were expanding
exponentially.  It was a surprising turn of events all the way around, and
I do not surprise easily.  Still, I was not displeased with her progress.

     I noticed other changes in her, as
well. The healing process was accelerated greatly by the power in my
blood.  The ruptured organ was already nearly whole, and her bones knit
back together in a matter of days, instead of months.  My blood was
changing her into something other than entirely human.  Hmmm…there might
be Hell to pay for that.

     “Keeping an eye on your pet human,
Asher?” I didn’t jump as he had hoped. As I said, I don’t surprise easily.

     “Hello, Samael. What brings you
here?”

     He grinned; sharp white teeth
flashed in an otherwise handsome face. “You do, of course. I came to see what
you’ve been up to.”  He nodded toward the hospital room Isabel and her
friend disappeared into.  “She’s a bit young for you, don’t you
think?  A little scruffy too; looks like she’s been dragged down ten miles
of bad road.”

     I tensed at the insinuation in his
words.  Was that anger?  Possibly. I had not felt it for some time,
but I did have the unmistakable urge to smash Samael’s head through the nearest
wall. Repeatedly.

     “I find the girl interesting.
Nothing more. Hers is an ancient soul. I rarely find those, these days.” I
started walking down the crowded hallway.  Samael, of course, followed
me.  Patients and nurses moved away from us.  We were not invisible,
exactly, but no one wants to look Death in the face.  People tend to avert
their eyes as we pass.  Suddenly, they find the most interesting things to
look at elsewhere. Occasionally someone will get a chill as we go by, but they
could not describe us if their lives depended on it.  It makes walking
among humans most convenient. 

     I glanced at Samael from the corner
of my eye.  He was on high alert, well aware that I do not normally
interfere in the lives of mortals.  “Surely you have something you could
be doing, besides spying where you are not welcome?”

     Black eyes sparkles with suppressed
laughter. “Well I could take offense at that, but I’ve decided not to,
Brother.”

     I sighed. Getting rid of him would
be difficult.  Every coin has two sides, you see, and Samael was the other
side of mine.  I am the Angel of Death.  Samael is the Grim
Reaper.  Common mythology has it that we are one and the same
creature.  We most certainly are not. We are nothing alike.

     I outrank him on the food chain,
even if we have much the same purpose.  We harvest the souls ready to
cross over.  He is my second in command and below him are the lesser
Reaper angels.   

     Death has many faces, and we appear
to everyone differently.  The elderly often see an old friend.  To
animals and children we are a warm embrace and a whisper of love from one
breath to the next.  For the darkest souls, however, we reflect back
whatever fear they have poured into their victims.  Sometimes it is enough
to turn a grown man’s bowels to jelly.  Samael excels at harvesting the
darkest of souls. He has a flair for the dramatic and he enjoys his job to a
degree one might call bloodthirsty.  For all that, he was still my oldest
friend and sometime rival.  I trust him. I respect him. I just do not
necessarily like him all of the time.

    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.