A Touch Menacing

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by Leah Clifford


  A wave of fresh resolve filled Az at the memory. He finally met Raphael’s pale eyes. The irises were almost white, barely distinguishable from the rest. Light shimmered across his dark skin, seemed to leak from within, a holy radiance.

  “Still not a word?” the Bound angel said, each syllable echoing like a musical note. The corner of Raphael’s mouth turned up. “I’d forgotten how much I admire your tenacity, misguided though it may be at times.”

  Az pressed his lips together, straightening. Upstairs, words could be dangerous. Speaking to any of them was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Plus, his silence irritated them, making it all the more appealing.

  “It’s good to see you again, frien—”

  Never will I be one of them. Bound or Fallen, he promised himself.

  Raphael recoiled. “Oh, your hate is so strong,” he murmured. The cadence of his words altered, a melody of sadness. “Not for us, though. You despise yourself.”

  Caught unprepared, Az tightened his jaw. Raphael’s head tilted in concentration.

  “You flicker, Azazel. The light is inside you.” He held a hand out as if to trace Az’s cheek. “It aches to flare bright again! Why do you fight?”

  Az jerked away. He couldn’t bear the need inside him to be complete. One of them. Whole again.

  “How sorely you ache for this to end,” Raphael said. “Forgive yourself as we’ve forgiven you. Release yourself of this guilt, Azazel. Let go.”

  The words, the name, wormed into his mind, clogging his thoughts until they didn’t make sense. Tension spooled loose from his limbs, left him docile. His eyes slipped shut as he tried to call up an image of Eden, something to make him strong. But her face wouldn’t come.

  “You want this, Azazel. We’ve missed you so.” Raphael gave his shoulder a tender squeeze.

  Az cupped his hands over his ears. In his palms, he heard the rush of his blood, pounding like waves against the shore. He latched onto the image. You met her on the beach. You couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing her. You fought to be with her. A dozen memories of Eden surfaced, suddenly crystal clear. She loves you as much as you love her. Be strong. He could almost hear her voice, encouraging him.

  “Stubborn,” Raphael tsked. “Even before your return, we beckoned you home. Does the honor not please you? To be so needed?”

  There’s no honor in this, Az thought, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

  When there was no response, Raphael looked dismayed. “I won’t deny that they’re fascinating, these Pathless creatures you’re so taken with,” he said lightly. “It’s almost as if they believe they’re still mortal. They don’t seem to understand why they can’t be allowed to survive.”

  Az looked up. Had the Bound already begun wiping out the Siders?

  “Surely you understand why we must end them. This could be your glory, Azazel. Ridding us of this plague.” Raphael leaned closer, his pale eyes persuasive. “Their ends are swift. The pain lasts but a moment.”

  “You stay away from them!” Az yelled, and leaped forward. He swung his fist, but Raphael flashed away before it could connect, reappearing behind him.

  Az spun to see Raphael’s grin stretched wide with victory. “Come now,” Raphael said gently. “Was it truly so hard to speak?”

  A thousand curses died unuttered. Raphael had wanted him angry, wanted to prove that his silence was breakable. And he’d done just that. The fire inside Az scorched red-hot, but he ground his teeth and swallowed the heat down.

  “You’re returning to us in the smallest ways,” Raphael said. “But you are returning.”

  Never, Az thought with all his might. He shook his head, but without saying the word aloud, it did nothing except make him feel weaker, beaten.

  “You had the will to use your wings. The longer you remain, the more you’ll see the light.” He scrutinized Az’s face, studying him. “Gabriel, too, struggles with his emotions. At first, some suggested to trust him would be a mistake. Fortunately, he erased our doubts.” Raphael strolled toward the door, his fingers clasped behind his back. “Perhaps your own temptation will ease once Gabriel fulfills his promise,” he mused.

  A cold current passed through Az, electric fear. Spoken aloud, promises were binding, the compulsion to complete them even stronger than the desire to confess sins. “What temptation?” The words were out before he could stop himself. “What promise?”

  Raphael looked as if he’d been offered a gift. “He pledged to end the Sider who’d caused his Fall.”

  “Eden?” Az whispered in shock. “Gabe promised to kill Eden?”

  Raphael’s cheer dimmed, his face forlorn. “Your heart is so heavy, Azazel. When her suffering ends,” he said quietly, “I pray yours will, too.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Gabriel’s sudden presence startled a group of pigeons when he appeared in the abandoned building the Bound had chosen as their gathering place. He dropped to his knees, exhausted from the effort, not of traveling, but of resisting what he’d promised to do, every muscle in his body stretched tight from holding back.

  The room he’d materialized in was far from the other Bound angels. He knew it seemed suspicious that he didn’t freely seek out their company, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. So they watched him with sidelong glances, untrusting. They were right to do so.

  After a moment, he got to his feet.

  He came out of the room into the core of the building. Natural light streamed in from the glass atrium of the ceiling. Beautiful railings lined an open center; balconies on each side led off to rooms on the nine floors rising above him. Aside from peeling paint and a few broken panes of glass, upon first glance, the place seemed entirely livable. How could anything so beautiful be forgotten, he wondered.

  Gabe heard movement. He pictured himself several stories up. A second later, he felt the balcony beneath his feet.

  Four days ago, one of the more derelict rooms on this level had received a strange renovation. Most of the floor had collapsed through. The door to the room below it had been nailed shut, and barbed wire fencing secured over the windows, effectively making it a pit accessible only from above. The next day, a waiflike boy had been inside, dirty and shivering. A Sider. Please, he’d called up when Gabe had come to the threshold. Please help me.

  The boy’s pleas haunted him. Gabe had done nothing, left without a word. He couldn’t save all the Siders, not if he wanted freedom enough to help his friends. Besides a quick phone call to Kristen and another to Madeline, he hadn’t dared communicate with any of the Siders since the night he’d gotten back. Today, being near Eden and warning Jarrod had been an enormous risk. If he’d been seen by the Bound or if he hadn’t been able to resist the vow he’d made . . . Any other Sider could be hurt, tortured even, but Eden and Sullivan could be killed. Please listen, Jarrod, he thought. Make her leave the apartment. Eden could be stubborn, but he knew she was sick and scared.

  Now, it was Gabe who felt scared. Earlier this morning, Michael had requested he be present at a council meeting for the first time since he’d become Bound again. The invitation had spurred him on to warn Eden, tell her what she needed to know about Az. Gabe didn’t know if he’d be able to get back to her. The meeting could end with him punished. Or worse.

  Other Bound wandered through the building, looking lost and uncertain. For some, it had been centuries since they’d felt earth under their feet. Taxi horns unnerved them. Their noses wrinkled in disgust at the heavy scent of bus exhaust. To his left was the council room, reserved for higher-ranking Bound, the place where decisions were made. As he drew closer, he cleared his mind. Carefully practiced in the art of hiding his thoughts, he meted out only what he wanted the others to hear.

  Gabe held his head high as he swung open the door. An argument stuttered to silence as they all turned to him. At the head of the table, Michael’s normally gray eyes caught Gabe’s, happiness lightening them to pale blue. “May I voice my pleasure at your accept
ance of our invitation.”

  The others didn’t look quite so happy to see him. Gabe looked at each in turn. “The invitation is an honor,” he said. His answer skirted a line; being invited to a council meeting was considered an honor; it just wasn’t one he wanted.

  “Sit,” Michael said, gesturing as he turned to an angel beside him.

  Gabe felt himself flush, the confidence he’d worn like armor dented. Every chair was occupied. A purposeful slight.

  No one moved.

  “Take mine.” Raphael said, and pushed back from the table. He waited until Gabe took his place before laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been scarce these past days, Gabriel.”

  “Yes,” Gabe answered. There was no point in attempting to fashion a cloaked truth when there were so many real reasons. He chose one. “I thought perhaps it would be best to give everyone time to adjust to my return.”

  Raphael shot him an annoyed glance. “May we speak of the Siders, please?” Raphael asked. A creak broke the silence as Michael leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a tepee.

  “Of course,” Gabe said uncomfortably.

  “We’ve learned how to kill them,” Raphael continued. The ten angels sitting around the table turned expectantly between him and Gabriel, following the exchange as it bounced back and forth. “We’ll be moving forward with the extermination.”

  Gabe licked his lips. “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” He stood, his words desperate but careful. “There may be options we haven’t considered. The Siders were mortal once. I think they can be cured if . . .”

  He trailed off as their faces changed.

  “Cured?” one said, wearing a look of condemnation.

  Dropping his head, he wanted to give them an image of Madeline helping him when he’d been Fallen, of Eden and how much her friendship meant to him. Kristen, and the bond they shared. But the other Bound wouldn’t look beyond the unnaturalness of the Siders. “Make them mortal again,” he said quietly. “So that there’s no reason to kill them.”

  Slowly over the years, he’d learned the Siders spread Touch, which made the mortals become either manic or depressive. Touch was addictive and ate away at the path of a mortal each time it was passed until there was nothing left. “Their bodies act as if they’re still alive. Without a path, they can’t move forward. I think the Touch is the key. We need to figure out what it is and then . . .”

  Raphael walked to stand beside Michael, clearly disappointed. “These are not things you should be investigating, Gabriel. Our only task is to eliminate the threat.”

  “But—” Gabe started, and Michael slammed an open palm against the table.

  “Gabriel, this ceases immediately.” Michael suddenly appeared next to him, catching him in an embrace. “Do you not realize how we fear for you? You Fell for these creatures. No Bound has ever come back from that, save you. And yet you seem so eager to dispose of this glorious turn.” Michael kissed his cheek softly.

  Having Michael this close triggered memories of why he’d left Michael decades ago.

  It’d been slow and subtle, the way Michael had isolated him from the others. First, simply extra assignments around the mortals. Then the official position as Messenger. As one of the only Bound allowed to travel back and forth between the realms, Gabriel had been lonely, ached for Michael and the moments they were able to steal together. He’d met Az when Az was a Watcher, one of the Grigori. They’d both been on assignment. It’d been so nice to have a friend, someone to team up with and pass the time. When some of the angels—Az included—had started mixing with the mortals, Gabriel had turned a blind eye, even though it was forbidden.

  But Michael hadn’t. He’d accosted Gabriel for letting it go on and made sure Az’s indiscretions came into light. When he’d made an example of Az, Michael had finally lost Gabriel once and for all.

  Now Gabe felt Michael tense. Had he picked up a bitter thought Gabriel hadn’t meant to send out? “If you cannot bear the strain, you can tender a resignation as Messenger.”

  “No!” If he was kept Upstairs, Gabe wouldn’t have a chance at helping the Siders. They’d be slaughtered. “I’m strong in my beliefs,” he said. “I can do what needs to be done.”

  “Prove it,” Raphael said, standing up. “We know you have the location of the death breather. Why have you not ended her? Her destruction would benefit many.”

  “I will go, but it’s possible she and her crew have already gone into hiding.” Gabe bit the inside of his cheek.

  Michael sent a thought screaming through his mind. You’re in such danger, Gabriel. You must satisfy them with a Sider.

  “I . . .”

  Give them what they want! Michael insisted.

  Gabe racked his brain, frantic. He had to give them something. “There’s a coffee shop,” he said, shame burning through him even as the words blurted out. He couldn’t stop. “She goes there sometimes. It’d be a good place to check.” And then, casual enough to sound like an afterthought, he added, “A Sider works behind the counter. He’s high-ranking and might have information.”

  But Gabe hoped Zach wouldn’t. And that Zach would forgive him.

  CHAPTER 4

  Gabriel’s sudden presence startled a group of pigeons when he appeared in the abandoned building the Bound had chosen as their gathering place. He dropped to his knees, exhausted from the effort, not of traveling, but of resisting what he’d promised to do, every muscle in his body stretched tight from holding back.

  The room he’d materialized in was far from the other Bound angels. He knew it seemed suspicious that he didn’t freely seek out their company, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. So they watched him with sidelong glances, untrusting. They were right to do so.

  After a moment, he got to his feet.

  He came out of the room into the core of the building. Natural light streamed in from the glass atrium of the ceiling. Beautiful railings lined an open center; balconies on each side led off to rooms on the nine floors rising above him. Aside from peeling paint and a few broken panes of glass, upon first glance, the place seemed entirely livable. How could anything so beautiful be forgotten, he wondered.

  Gabe heard movement. He pictured himself several stories up. A second later, he felt the balcony beneath his feet.

  Four days ago, one of the more derelict rooms on this level had received a strange renovation. Most of the floor had collapsed through. The door to the room below it had been nailed shut, and barbed wire fencing secured over the windows, effectively making it a pit accessible only from above. The next day, a waiflike boy had been inside, dirty and shivering. A Sider. Please, he’d called up when Gabe had come to the threshold. Please help me.

  The boy’s pleas haunted him. Gabe had done nothing, left without a word. He couldn’t save all the Siders, not if he wanted freedom enough to help his friends. Besides a quick phone call to Kristen and another to Madeline, he hadn’t dared communicate with any of the Siders since the night he’d gotten back. Today, being near Eden and warning Jarrod had been an enormous risk. If he’d been seen by the Bound or if he hadn’t been able to resist the vow he’d made . . . Any other Sider could be hurt, tortured even, but Eden and Sullivan could be killed. Please listen, Jarrod, he thought. Make her leave the apartment. Eden could be stubborn, but he knew she was sick and scared.

  Now, it was Gabe who felt scared. Earlier this morning, Michael had requested he be present at a council meeting for the first time since he’d become Bound again. The invitation had spurred him on to warn Eden, tell her what she needed to know about Az. Gabe didn’t know if he’d be able to get back to her. The meeting could end with him punished. Or worse.

  Other Bound wandered through the building, looking lost and uncertain. For some, it had been centuries since they’d felt earth under their feet. Taxi horns unnerved them. Their noses wrinkled in disgust at the heavy scent of bus exhaust. To his left was the council room, reserved for higher-ranking Bound, the place where d
ecisions were made. As he drew closer, he cleared his mind. Carefully practiced in the art of hiding his thoughts, he meted out only what he wanted the others to hear.

  Gabe held his head high as he swung open the door. An argument stuttered to silence as they all turned to him. At the head of the table, Michael’s normally gray eyes caught Gabe’s, happiness lightening them to pale blue. “May I voice my pleasure at your acceptance of our invitation.”

  The others didn’t look quite so happy to see him. Gabe looked at each in turn. “The invitation is an honor,” he said. His answer skirted a line; being invited to a council meeting was considered an honor; it just wasn’t one he wanted.

  “Sit,” Michael said, gesturing as he turned to an angel beside him.

  Gabe felt himself flush, the confidence he’d worn like armor dented. Every chair was occupied. A purposeful slight.

  No one moved.

  “Take mine.” Raphael said, and pushed back from the table. He waited until Gabe took his place before laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been scarce these past days, Gabriel.”

  “Yes,” Gabe answered. There was no point in attempting to fashion a cloaked truth when there were so many real reasons. He chose one. “I thought perhaps it would be best to give everyone time to adjust to my return.”

  Raphael shot him an annoyed glance. “May we speak of the Siders, please?” Raphael asked. A creak broke the silence as Michael leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a tepee.

  “Of course,” Gabe said uncomfortably.

  “We’ve learned how to kill them,” Raphael continued. The ten angels sitting around the table turned expectantly between him and Gabriel, following the exchange as it bounced back and forth. “We’ll be moving forward with the extermination.”

  Gabe licked his lips. “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” He stood, his words desperate but careful. “There may be options we haven’t considered. The Siders were mortal once. I think they can be cured if . . .”

 

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