A Touch Mortal (16 page)

E
den rubbed her eyes, trying to concentrate. She hadn’t slept, waited until morning to talk to the rest of the group.

Adam, Jarrod, and Libby sat in nearly the same spots they’d been in yesterday. The same silence hung over the group. This time it was Eden at the window. Standing. Even that was part of her presentation. Putting herself above them, hoping the subtle act would keep them quiet.

The temperature had dropped as the sun rose. She closed her eyes, listening to the ping of the flakes as they struck the glass, gathering as much confidence as she could muster. She could feel their stares, the tension in the room building as she stared out the window, trying to decide what to tell them. None of them knew anything about angels. What would they do if they knew the danger she’d put them in?

Finally she spun to face them.

“I went to see Kristen,” she said, standing at the end of the couch.

She stared at only Jarrod while the words came out. As expected, his mouth dropped open, a wide circle of surprise.

Libby spoke up from behind him. “Kristen? As in the one everyone warned me about? The
crazy
one?”

“Why?” Adam answered on cue, feigning surprise at Eden’s admission, moving the conversation along.

He’d kept Jarrod busy while she’d crept out the front door, texted to let her know when he went to bed. Waited up for her in the kitchen. She’d almost told him everything.

Almost. Instead, she’d decided on Kristen’s suggestion to get them to store in case there was a fight and they needed to heal. He’d agreed. Adam used his prior knowledge to steer the conversation today and blame things on Madeline.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were going?” He must have practiced. The hurt in his question made her pause; it seemed so genuine.

And if she told him about the Fallen, the truth about Az, it would be.

“I did what I had to do,” she said with absolute authority. To her relief, Jarrod stayed silent for once. “And it was the right thing. She heard some rumors.”

“What kind of rumors?” Adam asked. His scripted
line slid into the conversation flawlessly.

“Madeline’s apparently taken offense to what I do,” Eden lied, keeping their attention on her. “She might try something. What, I can’t imagine. It might be as stupid as a fight, but she could try to take hostages.”

“What are we going to do about it?” Adam asked, filling the moment of empty space before anyone else could.

“She can’t do much. I’m not even sure she’ll try, but if she does, she’ll have numbers. Having some extra Touch will help, in case we need to heal after.” Eden turned her attention to Libby, the girl’s eyes darting back and forth between her and Adam. “Without James, we’re going to need you, Libby.”

“You’re going to
dose
her?!” Jarrod’s jaw dropped, putting the pieces together.

“Eden, you didn’t say anything about dosing.” Adam’s surprise was genuine.

“Libby, yes, but because of the rave, I don’t have enough to dose you all. You both are going to stop passing.”

Adam shook his head. “But that’s like making her a Screamer.”

“What’s dosing?” Libby asked, uncertain.

“I’m going to give you some of my Touch, but instead of passing it to the mortals, you’re going to hold it in. Store it.”

“Eden, she’s not ready for something like that!” Eden
couldn’t look at Jarrod, kept her eyes on Libby.

“James wasn’t passing, right?” Libby asked. She turned to Jarrod. “If he could handle it, I’m sure I can.”

Eden could feel his rage building even before he spoke. “James was storing,” he said. “Not dosed. There’s a fucking difference.”

Eden didn’t acknowledge Jarrod, kept her voice calm. “You’re new, so you’re only used to having to pass to one or two mortals a day. Adam and Jarrod have gotten used to dealing with higher levels, so they’ll be depressed but they’ll be able to handle it for a few days. Dosing isn’t the same. If you don’t spread the extra right away, the Touch hits you all at once. It’s ugly. But Jarrod’s going to help you. If you can make it through, you level out, and then it’s just a matter of holding those levels without letting more build.” Another piece of the plan fell into place, this one Adam’s suggestion. Jarrod needed Libby, something to keep him busy and occupied. “Jarrod is going to help you,” she said, suddenly forgetting her place, repeating herself.

Libby waited, her face expectant then puzzled. Eden’s eyes widened as she silently willed Adam to say something, anything. But it was Libby who spoke.

“Something’s…off,” she said, slowly. “With you two.” She pointed to Adam. “He opens his mouth before you finish talking, like he knows the next question.”

“He’s good at what we do. He knows the questions that need to be asked to cut out the bullshit,” Eden said quickly, trying to salvage what was left of the ruse.

“This is bullshit,” Jarrod said suddenly, their heads swiveling to him. “Fuck Madeline. She couldn’t have killed James. What about
that
, Eden?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet,” she said quietly. “But we need to be prepared for both. This is why Libby is even more important, why you are. We’ll see how she handles it and go from there.” She turned back to Libby.

“I’m in,” Libby said, her voice confident. “Are you going to keep taking the Siders, then?” She seemed to be gauging Jarrod’s reaction, though her eyes stayed focused on Eden.

“Saving Touch doesn’t affect me much, but I want to get as much as I can. Your body will use up the extra Touch if any of you get hurt.”

Adam’s shoe tapped out a nervous rhythm against the floor. “Eden, I don’t know about this. With Libby.”

“If she gets too bad, we can always stop.”

“How bad could it be?” Libby asked.

Jarrod stood, crossed the room, and slammed his door without a word.

T
he sound stole into her room through the keyhole. She’d shoved an old T-shirt under the door, trying to block it out, but still Eden could hear the moaning. It seemed to come from everywhere.

The groan crescendoed into a scream. She turned up her stereo, pumping Dresden Dolls at top volume.

Eden had forgotten the look on Adam’s face when he’d told her about the Screamers. At Kristen’s she’d been kept separated from the rest of the Siders. She hadn’t seen a Screamer until the day she’d left, and then, only for the few moments it took to free them with her breath. Now she understood why Adam had been so unnerved. Libby was in agony.

The lyrics flooded Eden’s ears, her eyes closed, fingers tightening into fists on the bedspread. But behind her eyelids, all she could imagine was Jarrod, there by Libby’s side. He hadn’t left her for a moment the last three days.

She could picture his face; hearing the music pounding through her wall and hating her for it, for trying to block out what she’d chosen to put the three of them through.

Eden snapped the song off mid-chorus. Libby’s scream picked up where it’d been drowned out, wavering before the room beside hers went silent again.

Sighing, Eden opened her bedroom door. Adam lay on the couch, a pillow pressed around his head.

Things had gotten strange between them the last few days. She’d caught herself noticing the shadow that brought out the angles of his normally shaved jaw.

She plopped down on his stomach, felt the muscles tightening, his breath escaping in a sharp
oof
. He sat up, lifting his head over the edge of the couch to make sure the door to Jarrod’s room was still closed. Satisfied the coast was clear, he curled an arm around her. Whatever was happening, he’d stuck to their agreement that it wasn’t common knowledge. For that, Eden was grateful.

“How are you holding up?” she asked. Adam shrugged. Studying his face, she saw lines in his brow that hadn’t been there even the day before.

“Rough,” Adam whispered, not bothering to sugar-coat. At least that was one thing she could count on. “This helps,” he added, tightening his arm around her. She leaned against his chest, telling herself it was only in the interest of helping.

“You’re not affected at all?” he asked, some wistful tone behind the words. His voice strained. She looked up at him, and he put a finger to the corner of her eyelid, lifting it. “They’re so blue, Eden,” he whispered, leaning closer. “And cold…” She felt the shift as the Touch took hold, saw his own eyes glaze over. “Heartless…nothing for me in them.”

She tried to sit up, but his arm tightened, pinning her to him like a strap.

“Nothing there. There’s nothing,” he whispered to himself.

“Adam, no.”

He started to rock, his finger still holding her eyelid open. “We’re all going to die. They’re coming for you and we’re all going to die. But not with you. Alone. We’re all alone.” She felt a shiver deep inside as she twisted her head, squeezing her eyes shut, breaking the connection.

“Kristen. The night I called Kristen,” she said suddenly, leaning up to whisper in his ear, pressing her cheek against his. The clammy chill made her nauseous. “Remember it?” she asked, feeling a flutter of eyelashes as he closed his eyes, concentrating. “You said, ‘Try to say it now.’ Can you see it, Adam? Do you remember?” She felt him nod, the stubble of his cheek prickling. “You said, ‘Try to say it now.’ You said, ‘Tell me there’s nothing here.’ What did I say, Adam?” she asked, pulling away when his
arm went limp. She took his face in her hands, watching his eyes, the deep burning brown.

“I can’t…” he mumbled.

“What did I say, Adam?” He blinked, a tear slipping from each eye, racing for his jaw.

“You didn’t say anything.” He opened his eyes again, focusing on her. “You didn’t say anything because you couldn’t.” The realization hit him, the Touch fading back into the background. “You couldn’t,” he repeated, the words coming out a heavy sigh as he leaned against her shivering. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around both of them.

She tried to keep herself from going rigid, the confession that she hadn’t been able to face before now leaving her vulnerable. There
was
something there. Something between them.

“Better?” she asked. He nodded, holding her close, his embrace tender again.

“I want to check on Jarrod and Libby. Will you be okay?” she asked, trying to shake away the image of violence. He nodded and she stood, helping him lie back down and tucking the blanket around him.

Walking across the room, she cast one last glance to Adam. What she felt wasn’t the raging fire it had been with Az. More of a slow burn, growing larger with each day that passed. Enough to warm her insides, but not
consume her.
Maybe that’s what love is
supposed
to be like?
she thought. Her stomach fluttered as she knocked quietly on the door. There was a grunt from inside and she opened it slowly, preparing herself.

Jarrod was on the bed. Libby’s head was in his lap, her eyes closed. Her hair was free for the first time since Eden had known her, draped around her in a greasy tangled halo. Around her face, the strands clung to her wet skin.

Jarrod dipped a washcloth in a pot of water next to him, running it slowly across her forehead. Libby grimaced as the cloth slid down her cheek, across her neck.

“She looks better than I expected,” Eden said quietly, careful not to break the thin hold sleep had claimed.

“The first time is always the worst. But she’s strong. She’s holding her own.” He looked up at Eden and she saw the shadows there, darkness behind his gaze. He closed his eyes, wincing.

Eden moved to sit beside him but he held up a hand. “Just give me a minute,” he whispered. A tremor passed through him, Libby’s hair shuddering across the sweat-dampened pillow under her. Jarrod took two impossibly deep breaths, and whatever had threatened to take over was gone.

“I didn’t know how hard it would be for me to resist. My head’s all messed up. I don’t know what to believe. Adam told me what he heard through the walls when he
lived at Kristen’s, but I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

“It’s been a few days. Shouldn’t be much longer. If you need to stop, I’ll understand,” she said, but he shook his head.

“I got this.” And there it was in his voice. That reassurance she’d been dying to hear from either of them.

Reaching over, he took up the washcloth again.

“You’re doing good, Jarrod,” she said, hoping the praise would help him, but meaning it just the same. He was coming through for her.

“Hey!” he said, stopping her at the door. “I’m sorry. About pushing you. Maybe we could talk about it, make things cool again?”

She wanted to say it back, but it would only lead to them talking about the Siders on the stairs again. Now wasn’t the time to be calling attention to anything that volatile. Eden nodded.

Adam was sitting up when she returned to him, what happened five minutes ago forgotten.

She reached over to the chair, picking up her coat from where she’d left it yesterday for the brief minutes she’d left the apartment.

“That time again?”

Eden pulled the jacket around her. “I need to get all I can.”

It was over in seconds. Eden rolled her shoulders, snapping a crick from her neck. Despite the uncomfortable ache in her bones from the Touch she’d absorbed from the four Siders on the stairs, she was determined to savor her few minutes away from the apartment.

She kept a cautious lookout as she made her way through the alley, exited, and crossed the street. The strong coffee smell greeted her as she entered Milton’s. Behind the counter, Zach leaned down to get her tray.

“Just for me today,” she said, stopping him.

He separated her cup from the others and set it on the counter. As he slid the tray off into the garbage, she heard a crackle of papers, a rush of liquid set free, the lids popping off when they hit. “Sorry for the waste.”

“No prob.” He shrugged and pointedly shifted his attention past her, off to where the booths were. “Not with the coffee.”

“What’s up?” she asked, stiffening. She hadn’t been paying attention. Now that she was, Zach looked damn near skittish.

“Two o’clock. Middle booth,” he said, his voice low as he picked up the bills she’d laid on the counter. He avoided her eyes, avoided looking at her at all as he punched buttons on the register. “Been waiting for you about an hour.”

Eden fought the urge to turn. Dark hair, a dress in
anything but black, would be Kristen. Madeline would be easy enough with her fiery bun of red hair.

“Description?” she asked. She let out a fake laugh, pretending it was just a genial exchange of pleasantries with the local barista.

“Dude,” he said, and Eden mentally crossed off most of the list in surprise. “Early twenties. Knew what I was right away.”

“Sider?” she asked. Slowly Zach shook his head. Her heart hammered. She had no idea what any of the Fallen looked like. She risked a glance. “Jesus,” she gasped.

“You okay?” On the other side of the counter, Zach slipped off his latex gloves. “You need backup?”

“No, just…I wasn’t expecting him,” she said, not bothering with the change on the counter when she turned. She made her way down the aisle to Gabe’s table. Forcing a breath, she slowed her steps.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit,” she said, crossing her arms when she got to the booth.

He twisted a rope of napkin around his fingers, the paper fuzzy and broken down. On the table were half a dozen others, already shredded.

He raised his head. The look in his eyes sapped her sarcasm.

“Gabe? What’s wrong?” Her heart quickened, a thought of Az in trouble worming into her mind unbidden.
She jerked toward the window, searching the street before she could stop herself.

“He’s not here,” Gabe said. “Sit. We need to talk.”

“Is…did he Fall? That’s why you’re here.” The strength ran out of her legs. She dropped into the booth. “You came to tell me.”

His shook his head. “Az isn’t Fallen.”

“Damn it, Gabe. I thought something had happened.” She flopped against the back of the booth. She glanced away, not wanting Gabe to see the relief overwhelm her. The strength of the feeling unnerved her.

“I didn’t mean…” Deep lines furrowed his brow as he started over. “It upsets me that you blame Az for all of this. He’s upset you don’t answer his calls. He’s lost without you.”

Her worry had tempered her anger, but now she gave in, her voice oozing malice. “Oh, he’s lost? He’s upset? Gee, Gabe. Maybe that’s how I felt after finding out I was
dead
. You know? After you abandoned me at Goths R Us. Then again, I’m not really open to an apology.”

“Sorry wouldn’t be enough, anyway. It wouldn’t even be a start,” he said, each word pained and slow. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Eden set her coffee down. “How exactly did you expect it to go? I take my time killing myself instead of being
pushed into it and ignore the fact that you did nothing to stop it?”

“You’re right,” he murmured, as if in a trance. “I should have warned you. Not—” He jerked his head up suddenly, sucking a deep breath. “I can’t say…please understand. It’s fine as long as it’s never spoken.”

“As long as
what
is never spoken?!” She shot him eyes full of hate. “I don’t remember the beach after you left. What happened on the beach, Gabe?” she insisted.

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his, playing with the dozen rings on her fingers. “You happened. Everything changed the night we met you.”

“Yeah,” she snapped. “Things are a bit different for me, too.”

“Az isn’t meant to be with mortals. No angel is. Every girl finds her way back to her path. They leave him.”

“I wouldn’t have left him,” she said defensively.

“It’d been so long since he’d been happy. And he loved you, Eden. Really loved you. I had to know when you’d leave, have a plan to get him through without a Fall. I tried to check your path. We thought the Siders were pathless only after they died. If you hadn’t been with him, if he hadn’t fallen in love with you, we never would have known they were pathless as mortals.”

She drummed her nails on the tabletop. “Wonderful.
Glad to be of service. Why are you here, Gabriel? What do you want?”

He glanced up. “Kristen sent a few of her Screamers your way. She gave me their names first. After they…had contact with you, I took a trip Upstairs.” She tilted her head, waiting for him to finish, her anger arrested. “They were there, Eden.”

“What do you mean they were there? Upstairs?” She scoffed. “Don’t be stupid, Gabe. They’re suicides. They can’t…”

He glanced around, lowering his voice. “Eden, sins or not, Siders shouldn’t be there at
all
. Mortals follow a path for a reason. We thought Siders were immortal because there’s nowhere for them to go. You put them back on the grid, Eden.” He raised his head, staring at her for a long second.

Her fingers stilled. A rebellious smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “So I give them a path?”

“This isn’t a good thing.” Gabe sounded exasperated. He reached across the table to entwine his hands in hers, squeezing them tight before she pulled away. “You’re putting souls where they don’t belong. There’ll be consequences when Upstairs finds out.”

“You haven’t told them yet?”

He glanced back out the window. “I didn’t count on being so…involved.”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Somehow she didn’t see Gabe coming out of this with a slap on the wrist. She tensed. “You said it out loud. Don’t they know now?”

“Luckily for the Bound, Upstairs is on a ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ kind of system. For us, sins need to be spoken. Punishment for lesser infractions needs proof. But every secret seems to burn its way out eventually.” He crossed his arms, drawing into himself as something about the thought exhausted him. “You’ve gotta be careful. You’re already being watched, sought out. And not just by us.”

“It’s a little late for a warning, isn’t it?” Her voice had taken on a hard edge. “Pretty fucking unsubtle. But if killing James—”