Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series (34 page)

     “An abomination?  Is that the
word you’re looking for?”  That’s what he’d called me the first time we’d
met.  An abomination.

     He inclined his head in agreement.
“For lack of a better word, yes.  An abomination.”

     “She’s willing to risk another
Reaper, just to prove her point?”

     “Surely, that doesn’t surprise
you?  She has destroyed entire kingdoms, just to prove her point. 
She’s completely insane.”

     “No, it doesn’t surprise me; not
really.  Thanks for the warning.  Now, go away.  I’m tired of
all of you.  Tell Fate she can kiss my ass.  You, too, can kiss my
ass.”  I tried to keep my voice down, in spite of the fact that I wanted
to scream it at him.  My dad might not be able to hear me, but the nurses
in the hall could.

     Grim cocked his head, and seemed to
study me for a moment. “It’s not a bad offer, but Asher may have something to
say about that, if either of you manages to survive.”

     He started towards me again and I
stood up, blocking his way.  “You lay so much as a finger on my dad, and
you and I are going to have a problem.  You can kill me, but we both know
I can at least damage you.”

     “Pull your claws in, kitten. 
I’m trying to help you.”

     “Are you? Whose side are you really
on, Grim?”

     “Generally speaking, I’m always on
the winning side, even if I have to stack the odds a bit.  Which is what
I’m trying to do, if you’d just listen.  Asher’s right, you are stubborn.”

     “Where is Asher?”  I couldn’t
stand it anymore; I had to ask, even if I was pretty sure I didn’t want the
answer.  He would have been with me, if he could have.

     Grim’s face seemed to close
off.  “Asher is busy.  Since he can’t help you, I will do it in his
stead.”

     “I don’t want your help. 
You’ve helped me enough, already.  And by the way, you make a shitty
fortune teller.” 

     “Oh, I don’t know,” he said
modestly, “I thought I was spot-on with your fortune.  Change, choice, and
Death.  That about sums it up, doesn’t it?  You’ve been changed, and
now you face a choice.” 

     “And the Death card?”

     Grim smiled, and it was chilling to
watch. “Death is your ultimate end, little sister. Though whether you embrace
Death, or it consumes you, remains to be seen.”

     “I get the point.  I’m running
out of time.  Thanks for stopping by.”

     “Take my advice,” he said, and I
almost thought I heard sympathy in his voice. Almost.  Surely, I’d
imagined it. “When the Reaper comes for your father, let him be taken. 
Fate only has power over you, if you let her.”

     I don’t know why his words shocked
me, but they did.  I really didn’t expect anything better out of
him.  “That’s your good advice?  Let her kill my dad?  Are you
insane?”

     He shrugged, a philosophical
gesture.  “His is just one life.  One human life, out of billions on
the planet, and he’s dying, anyway.  They all are, from the moment of
conception.  Their cells wither and die as the rot sets in.  He’s
nothing compared to an immortal.  Nothing.”  They.  Their. 
He was talking to me about humans like I wasn’t one of them anymore.

     “He is my father,” I hissed,
enraged.  “Don’t you dare tell me that his life doesn’t matter.  It
matters to me.  Get the hell out of here!”

     Grim threw his hands up.  “Ok,
I’ll go, but before I do, I’m going to tell you what Asher is about to
sacrifice for you.  Then you can make your choice.”  My lips pressed
closed in a tight, painful line.  I would
not
ask him; anything he said was likely a
lie, anyway.  “What,” he taunted. “Has the cat got your tongue?  Or
don’t you want to know what will happen to Asher, if you continue with this
madness?”

    He moved then, fast as a striking snake,
and he was close enough I felt his breath against my cheek.  “You stink of
fear, little sister.  Just like a human.”  It was a silky whisper
that made my skin crawl. He was ancient, but unlike Asher, the evil living
inside of him was palpable. I hated him, and yes, I feared him.

     “That’s because I’m not stupid, and
I am human.”  I glanced down to where my hand was glowing, less than an
inch from his heart. Apparently, I didn’t need to concentrate my Will for it to
work under a threat. “I may be afraid of you, Grim, but that doesn’t mean I
won’t do my best to kill you.”  He backed up a pace and looked down at me
like he’d never really seen me before.

     He smiled, and his teeth elongated,
just a little, into fangs.  “I begin to see what Asher sees in you, but
you still aren’t worth the price he’ll pay.  Nothing is.”

     “What price?”  The question
slipped out, almost against my will.

     “His wings.”  Black, pitiless
eyes cut into me.  “He promised Suriel his wings in exchange for your
freedom.”

     Not his wings.  There was no
way Asher would give up his beautiful, dark wings; not for me. “You’re
lying.”  My throat tightened up and my voice came out sounding like
someone I didn’t recognize.

     I was so focused on the Reaper in
front of me that I didn’t hear the door open.  “Iz, are we entertaining
visitors?  You should have told me.  I would have brought
refreshments.”  Gwen flipped on the overhead light and I flinched at the
sudden brightness.

     Grim backed away from me a few
paces and smiled as he looked my friend up and down. She still had the white
angel costume on. He spent an awfully long time studying the length of bare leg
on display. “Hello, Gwenevere. You’re looking well, if a bit
underdressed.” 

     “Grim.”  She inclined her
head.  “Aren’t you supposed to be out killing something?”

     What the hell?  “Am I missing
something?”  I turned to Gwen, thoroughly confused.  “You can see
him?”

     Gwen sidled up next to me.  “I
told you, Iz… once you see one of them, you always see them.”  She took
her jacket from the back of my chair and shrugged it on.  The room was
slightly chilly.

     Grim watched her with a predator’s
stare.  “Gwen and I are becoming fast friends.”

     She smiled, but it never reached
her eyes.  “You wish. I still think you’re an asshole, in case you’ve
forgotten.”  She wasn’t fooling me, that look in her eye told me she was
preparing to fight.  That was the last thing I wanted.

     I kept myself between my father and
Grim. I was shaking inside, but I couldn’t let him see it. “Thanks for
visiting.  Thanks for the information, but you need to go, now.”

     “You mistake me, little
sister.  I’m not asking for your cooperation.”  I had no chance to
fight him; he moved too fast to track, much less block.  He knocked the
wind out of me as he grabbed me, and pinned my arms to my sides. Instant rage
exploded out of me in a white-hot fury.  There was a muffled scream, and
then we spiraled into darkness.

Chapter 24…Asher

     There was a harvest to be
made.  I felt the old, familiar tingling of the Summons.  This one
was different than any I had ever felt before.  It was painful in its
urgency.  There was no denying it, nor any way to ignore it, even if I had
wished to.  I gave in and let it take me where it would.

     It brought me to a roadside
embankment near a clearing and a handful of trees.  Confused, I looked
around for my harvest, but found nothing. The place looked vaguely familiar to
me.  I walked a circle, looked for someone, possibly hurt and definitely
dying, but there was no one there.  Only a couple of fast heartbeats could
be heard, and those belonged to the deer watching me silently from the shadows
cast by the light of the full moon.  This was unheard of; the Summons
makes no mistakes, and yet I found myself in the middle of nowhere, without a
harvest.

     I heard them before I saw
them.  They screeched like demon-spawned harpies. Grim appeared in the
clearing with Isabel kicking in his arms, and her friend draped across his
broad back, hitting him in the head with the heel of her hand. What was going
on, here? Why would Grim be fighting with the girls?  And why would I be
called to witness it? This made no sense.  Yet, I saw it with my own eyes,
and honestly, I was not sure who needed my help more.  Whatever had
happened, Grim had royally pissed off both of the girls.

     The blonde girl sank her teeth into
his ear and ripped, viciously.  Blood sprayed from the wound, and soiled the
girl’s white dress. She looked like a bloodied angel as she spat the grisly bit
of flesh to the ground and gauged at his eye with her thumb.  In a rage,
and maddened by the pain, he tossed both girls to the ground, none too
gently.  They both rolled out of the way, but the blonde girl was up
first.  Obviously, she’d had some kind of training.  Her fumbling
hand went into the pocket of the jacket she wore over the dress.

   “Gwen, run!”  Isabel came to her feet and
tried to shove her friend away.

   “Screw that!  You run!”  Gwen’s hand
came out of her jacket with a small silver canister of pepper spray. 
Grim’s shriek turned savage as she sprayed it directly into his eyes.  The
skin around his eyes reddened immediately as the liquid fire burned and blinded
him.  I should have realized she wouldn’t abandon her friend. Her loyalty
would most likely get her killed.  It was suicide, trying to fight the
Reaper, but that was exactly what she was doing.

     The girl dropped into a fighting
stance before he had a chance to recover.  She swept Grim’s leg out from
under him, and dropped him like a rock.  It was most impressive,
especially given that she fought in a dress and high heeled shoes.

     Isabel moved much faster than would
have been humanly possible.  She landed on his chest with a shriek like a
banshee.  Taking great handfuls of his dark hair, she commenced to bash
his head into the ground. Repeatedly.  Such a delicate little
flower.  I smirked from where I watched them. He had it coming.  They
could not really do much damage, anyway.  He was immortal, after
all.  But they were more than getting his attention.  I really should
have stepped in to stop it, but it was sort of entertaining.  And so
unexpected.

      Gwen commenced kicking him in
the side, the legs, anything that was exposed, really.  She moved with
precision, every blow counted.  The girl was not stupid; if he got up that
would be the end of it.  I saw it coming a split second before I might
have warned him; a well-placed and brutal stomp to the groin.  Young
ladies today seem to have a lot of rage, and very little mercy.

     Immortal or not, that had to
hurt.  Grim screamed as he rolled out from under them, utterly enraged,
finally.  He came to his feet, nightmare-black wings unfurled, and no
longer in the mood to play.  I started towards them; the fun was over.

     Fate materialized out of the
low-lying fog, as if by magic.  What was
she
doing here?  “Enough!”  Her
voice echoed through the small clearing, ringing like a bell. At this point most
people would stop fighting. She is, after all, Fate; when she speaks, entire
worlds tremble.  And she is not used to disobedience.

     They didn’t stop.  The two
girls turned towards her, but apparently Fate didn’t register as an immediate
threat to them, because they went right back after Grim.  Like two really
annoying Chihuahuas attacking a Pit-bull.  Isabel was small, but she had
inhuman strength.  Her friend had had some training, and she knew how to
use it to her advantage.

    Isabel threw herself onto Grim’s back,
presumably to choke him when he got his hands on Gwen.  I still do not
know what he planned to do with her, but she sank her teeth deep into his
forearm.  She worried the arm, like a dog with a particularly fine bone;
it was a bloody mess.  It took him no time at all to throw them both off
of him, after that.

     Gwen went flying one way, and
Isabel the other.  I managed to catch Isabel, but not before I heard the
sickening crack of Gwen’s head meeting fieldstone.  Isabel stopped struggling,
and went utterly still in my arms.  She had seen her friend fall. 

     No sound came from Gwen.  No
sign of life, whatsoever.  I heard Isabel’s heart speed up.  A moment
passed before she looked up at me with wide, accusing eyes. She pushed against
me with considerable strength.  I could not hold her without hurting her,
but letting her go to her friend would be a mistake.  The damage was too
great.  The scent of blood was already heavy in the chill night air.

     “Isabel, stop.”  Her nostrils
flared as she scented the blood.  Her eyes were wide and wild as she
realized what had happened.

     “Let me go, Asher.  Let me go
to her.”  Her voice was ragged, desperate.  I ached for her.

     “I cannot, Isabel.  She is
passing.”  Tears welled up and made the emeralds of her eyes swim. 
There was utter disbelief in them.  Disbelief and betrayal.  I tried
to soothe her, but she shoved me away and ran, stumbling, to her friend. 

     Grim got to Gwen’s side before
Isabel did.  “Don’t you dare touch her, you sonofabitch.”  Isabel’s
voice had gone cold as ice, but rage boiled just beneath the surface.

     Grim never acknowledged her. 
His face was a mirror of surprise and pity for the girl at his feet. The rage
was gone, burned out, in the fire of sorrow.  

     Gwen lay broken and pale upon the
ground.  Her head was at an odd angle, the neck was possibly broken. 
Blood spread from the wound at the back of her head, mixing with, and staining
the gold of her hair.  It was not her time, but she was too grievously
injured to live.  He had done that to her.  He knelt beside her,
prepared to harvest the life he had stolen.  Every line of his body bent
with grief; his black wings folded against his back as his shoulders sagged
under the weight of his guilt. Too late, I realized that he had come to care
for this girl.  She had been more than a toy to him, after all, and now it
was too late.

     I could not just stand and witness
this.  The Reaper’s anguish was devastating to behold.  Tears swam in
Grim’s eyes.  Grim, who cared for nothing; who felt nothing.  Isabel
did not see.  She did not know him as I did.  Never have I seen him weep
for the death of a mortal.  I caught her about the waist and hauled her
back a few feet to give him some room.  A shudder went through him as he
reached for the broken girl, about to place his palm over her heart to stop its
last beat. 

     “Get. The. Fuck. Off.
Asshole.”  The voice was faint, but grew stronger with each word she
uttered.

     “Gwen!”  Isabel clawed her way
out of my grasp and ignored Grim as she launched herself at her friend’s
side. 

     The injured girl’s eyes fluttered
open as her lips parted.  She spat blood upon the ground, thick and
dark.  I strongly suspected that it was not all her blood.  Isabel
knelt next to her, suddenly sobbing and at a loss for words.  She smoothed
golden hair away from a face gone pale as milk.

     “Gwen, are you ok?”

     It surprised a laugh out of her
friend.  As laughs go, it was a wretched one; thin and pained. 
Gallows humor.  “No, I’m not ok.  I’m pretty sure my damned neck’s
been broken.  And a few other things,” she said weakly.

     “Don’t try to move.  Where’s
your phone?”

     “Really, Iz?  Seriously? 
Because I don’t think calling 911 is going to help.”  Gwen straightened her
neck with a hiss that turned quickly into a whimper.  “Shit, that
stings.”  The girl was in pitiful shape, but she would live.

     Grim backed away, slowly.  I
walked up to him, and put a hand on his shoulder.  “I don’t
understand.”  His voice cracked as he spoke. “She was dying; I felt
it.  You saw her.” He made a helpless gesture with his hand.

     “I believe I understand what
happened.”  I pointed at the blood on Gwen’s mouth, then at the wound that
was quickly healing on Grim’s arm.  The rather large bite she’d taken out
of his arm had saved her.  Who knows, it might have been from the wound
she’d opened on his ear.  In any case she would live to fight another
day.  With him, most likely.

     “Oh, bloody Hell!”  He blew
out the breath he’d been holding and ran both hands through his shaggy, black
hair.  His shoulders shook, and it only took a moment for me to understand
that he was laughing.  “You can’t be serious.”  Relief was written
clearly on his face.  “Oh, that is rich.  The joke is on me, this
time.”

     I smiled, relieved. “Welcome to my
Hell, Brother.”

     Gwen reached up gingerly, and
touched the back of her head.  Her fingers came away from the wound,
painted red.  With Isabel’s help, she pulled herself up into a sitting
position.  All things considered she was healing at an alarming
rate.  I guessed she had taken more than just a few drops of blood with
that bite.  She sat rubbing her head and eyeing Grim with evil
intent.  “What the hell is your problem, anyway?”

     “Me?”  Grim’s tone was full of
righteous indignation, but I could tell he was too relieved by her unexpected
resurrection to put much energy into it.  “What’s your problem?  Do
you have, um, what is it they call that?  Oh, yes…PMS?” Her only reaction
was a hard stare.   He should shut up while he was ahead.  If
the girl were in better shape, she would have attacked him, yet again. “I
remind you that you, in fact, pounced on me, hellion.”

     “You kidnapped Izzy, jackass. 
Was I just supposed to let you do it?”

     “You could have, if you had any
sense.  I was following orders.  You, as usual, acted on impulse. Now,
look at the mess you’ve landed us in.”

     She glared at him with a withering
stare.  “I really don’t like you.”

     He shrugged.  “I really don’t
care.”

     She rolled her eyes and gave him
the finger.

     Fate watched this whole time, arms
crossed over her impressive bosom, her face a mask of impatience.  “I do
hate to interrupt your flirting, but we have business to discuss.  And
Grim, darling, I told you to bring me the girl, not make another one just like
her.”  Grim simply stared at her.  There was nothing he could say,
and I could tell that he was not even slightly sorry.  “I’ll deal with you
two, later.”

     Grim reached out a hand to help the
injured girl to her feet, but she swatted him away.  She used Isabel as a
crutch, instead, leaning heavily on the smaller girl’s shoulder.  Gwen’s
rejection did not seem to bother him in the slightest.  He continued to
hover close by her side, in spite of the many dirty looks he received.

     Isabel had no trouble balancing the
girl’s weight.  She was tiny, but deceptively strong.  She glared at
Grim.  “Back off, or I swear to God I will hurt you.”

     Grim backed away, but only a couple
of feet, hands up in mock surrender.  “Temper, temper, little sister.”

     “Screw you, traitor.”

     Grim lost that expression of pained
amusement.  “I am no traitor.  I told you; I had orders to bring you
here.”

     Isabel looked like she wanted to
take his head off.  “And that makes it better?  The damned Nazis had
orders, too!”

     “I might remind you, girl, that
unlike humans,
we
don’t have free will.”  He was quickly losing his sense of humor.

     “That’s just too damned bad, isn’t
it?” She spat the words at him like she tasted something foul.

    “Excuse me,” I interrupted before this
turned into another brawl, “but would anyone mind explaining just exactly what
is going on here?”

     Fate walked towards me, hips
swaying, eyes gleaming silver in the moonlight.  “It’s very simple. 
Izzy’s test is upon her.”  She smiled slowly, savoring the moment. 
“And your test as well, Ashrael.”

     “Mine?  What are you talking
about?  I came here to make a harvest.”

     “And so you shall, but first, look
around you.  Does anything look familiar?  No?”  She waited
patiently.

     “It’s the clearing.”  Isabel
answered, her tone bleak and harsh.  “This is where my accident happened.”

     “Yes!”  Fate clapped her
hands, delighted that someone was willing to play along.  “Exactly. 
The clearing where you two first met.  I thought it a fitting place for
your parting.”

     Gwen leaned heavily against her
friend.  “Who is this crazy bitch, and would someone please put her back
on her meds?” 

     Grim sidled up beside her, and put
a hand over her mouth.  “Silence, dear girl, before you get us all
killed.”  She swatted his hand away.  “Get your damned hands off of
me.”

     “Gwen, don’t.”  There was
something in Isabel’s voice that made my blood run cold.  She focused on
the clearing behind me, her eyes huge.  The color quickly drained from her
face.  I heard nothing, but there was a disturbance in the air around
us.  A Reaper had landed in the clearing. 

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