A Touch Menacing

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A Touch Menacing Page 8

by Leah Clifford


  Madeline grabbed her shoulder. “Would you stop punishing the girl just because you’re not Gabriel’s special little princess anymore! Get. Over. It.”

  “So I’m supposed to what?” Kristen spat, her cheeks burning. “Have her kill Sebastian so she feels better? Or maybe you can offer up Jackson?”

  At the mention of her own Second, Madeline’s glare grew cold.

  “And when she needs another Sider in a day? And then another? We’re searching out everyone we can to fight the Bound, and all the while Eden’s killing them off one by one. That makes her an enemy.” Kristen softened her voice, leaning against the stone crypt. “It’s not that I hate her, Madeline; I just don’t want her close again. Because eventually?” she said. “Something unpleasant is going to have to be done about Eden.”

  CHAPTER 6

  The hem of Kristen’s black dress tickled against her calves in the breeze. At the head of the grave, a preacher quoted a passage from the Bible while the crowd sobbed softly into handkerchiefs. Gears creaked against the cold as the coffin lowered. “Ashes to ashes,” the preacher went on, “and dust to dust.”

  “May God rest his soul,” Kristen said, and tossed a handful of dirt into the hole.

  Her house had been chaos. Decorations and rearranging furniture and finalizing the preparations and it wouldn’t stop until the conclusion of tomorrow’s ball. She’d needed space. She’d needed air. She found herself in the cemetery, standing in quiet repose at a stranger’s funeral. From the turnout, the man had led a good life, died old and loved.

  All the things you’ll never be, her brain spat. You were happy with Luke. Safe and sane. And now the Bound are coming for you. Gabe will abandon you again. What then?

  Kristen cut off the thought. No regrets, she reminded herself. She’d made a promise. No longer would she blame herself for giving in to Luke’s lies, for believing him capable of caring about her. She would bear no guilt over choosing him when her Second, Sebastian, had come for her. No guilt over abandoning her Siders. No guilt over mistakes.

  She concentrated, picturing the inside of the coffin, mentally locking her lingering feelings for Luke inside. Soon they’d be buried, gone. Another woman stepped forward. Another scattered handful of dirt.

  You miss him. The wind whisked through Kristen’s hair, tangled the strands into snarls. You were stronger with him.

  A small boy crept to the edge and dropped in a rose.

  On the antennas of the cars in the funeral procession, flags snapped in the wind. The crowd thinned.

  A man gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said.

  She nodded gratefully. “It’s better this way,” she said. It wasn’t until his confused frown that she realized what she’d said. “With no more suffering,” she added.

  Her voice was embarrassingly loud, but she liked how strong it came out.

  You were hardly suffering. Luke gave you everything you could ever want. He considered you an equal.

  “Then why did he betray me?” she whispered as the man walked to his car, leaving her alone.

  Kristen kept her eyes open until the air dried them. She hadn’t shed a single tear for Luke, for what they’d had, for what could have been.

  Still could be, a stubborn voice persisted. It wasn’t a delusion, as much as she wished it were. The thoughts were hers.

  Somehow that made everything worse.

  A handful of dirt flew over her shoulder, hit the coffin, and skittered off the lid.

  Kristen whipped around to see Madeline brushing off her palms. “Friend of yours?” she asked.

  “How did you find me here?” Kristen demanded. She’d told no one, not even Sebastian, where she was going. “Did you have me followed?”

  Madeline gave her a Cheshire cat grin and batted her lashes innocently. “You think I’d know by now to call before popping up unannounced! You never were one for surprises.”

  In Kristen’s early days as a Sider, when Gabriel had found her ravaged by her schizophrenia and squatting in a funerary chapel, Kristen had thought she was mad with her need to touch others. After healing her as best he could, Gabriel, who’d been observing Madeline from a distance, had brought them together. The years since had seen herself and Madeline somewhere between friends and adversaries but never outright enemies. Despite their differing loyalties to Upstairs and Down, she respected Madeline. She’d thought Madeline did the same. She’s been watching me, Kristen realized. The idea of Madeline’s spies catching a glimpse of her when she’d been weak sickened her.

  Madeline fiddled with a garish earring, the stone an impressive fake, but far too large to be real. The green only intensified her eyes—deep, wet forest colors. “Can we take a walk?” she asked. “We have a problem.”

  They strolled away from the open grave, threading through the tombstones and crypts. “This is far enough,” Kristen said, stopping between two crypts, out of sight of any stragglers left in the cemetery.

  Madeline gradually slowed. “So I told my Siders about the angels. I held this big dramatic thing,” she said with a flourish of her hand. “Called everyone in and told them about the Fallen and the Bound.”

  “They took it badly?” Kristen guessed. Her own Siders had reacted with stunned surprise, though honestly they’d handled it better than she expected. All things considered, she wasn’t sure why it should be such a stretch for a room full of immortals to believe angels existed. Of course, telling them those angels wanted them exterminated was a different story.

  “Not exactly,” Madeline said. “They did pretty well with the whole holy war issue. The problem is . . .” She trailed off for a moment before she rocked uncomfortably, snow crunching under her high-heeled boots. “Look, I don’t want to piss you off, but here’s the deal. They aren’t happy about being”—Madeline raised her hands in air quotes—“paraded around in front of the enemy.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You know I didn’t invite Gabriel. He wouldn’t harm them anyway!”

  “You can’t guarantee that. But they weren’t talking about Gabriel.” Madeline mirrored her frown. “They were talking about you.”

  “Me?” Kristen scoffed. A cloud of breath hovered in the air between them as the words sunk in, her anger slowly replaced with confusion.

  “They started asking questions—how I knew about the Bound and how I knew we were being targeted—so I tried to explain that you were close with Gabriel, but all they seemed to hear was you’re on the side of those that want to kill us.” She stared off into space for a moment, her brow wrinkled in thought. Finally, she shrugged. “They’re scared, Kristen. Can you blame them?”

  This is how it starts, Kristen thought. She twirled a ring around her middle finger, her nail clicking against the stones. She’ll draw the others away, turn them against me. When Kristen spoke, her voice didn’t have the bite she’d wanted. “You threw me under the bus.”

  “I told them what I thought they could handle. They need time.”

  Her head snapped up. “You could have mentioned I’m not the only one close to Gabriel. And we don’t have time,” she said, fighting to keep her emotions in check. “Everything is already in place. Erin’s coming from Staten Island. She agreed to a truce with Vaughn, if we can find him.”

  Erin had left her territory in Manhattan when she heard Vaughn was selling Touch to mortals and had torn down the whole operation. If Vaughn and Erin were able to set aside their differences, they understood the direness of the situation. And yet here Madeline stood, calm and collected, prattling on about how her Siders weren’t coming.

  “I made sure Vaughn knows about the ball,” Madeline said. Kristen shot her a look, but Madeline didn’t clarify how she knew where to find him. She didn’t need to. Her spies had apparently been busy as of late. “None of us are enemies now, right?” Madeline’s grin didn’t exactly set Kristen at ease. “Stop being paranoid.”

  Kristen glared. “Stop being paranoid? Tell that to your crew!” Her fa
ce flushed in anger. “You’re in charge of them. Demand they come!” She twirled away just long enough to regain her composure. When she turned back, she made sure her voice was steady before she spoke. “Madeline, if we can’t get everyone to work together, the Bound are going to trounce us.” At her waist, she laced and unlaced her fingers. The vulnerability she felt sickened her. Even worse, she knew Madeline picked up on it.

  “Kristen, my God, you’re a wreck!” she said, her voice brimming with sympathy. “Relax! I got them to compromise.”

  “What?” she managed.

  “You didn’t think we were going to pull out?” Madeline smiled reassuringly.

  “What else was I supposed to think?” Kristen said through gritted teeth.

  Madeline’s eyes sparkled nearly as brightly as her earrings. “Someone had the rather brilliant idea of asking you to make it a masked ball. That way, everyone’s anonymous. My Siders will be satisfied, and I’m sure Vaughn’s group wouldn’t be opposed to concealing their identities.” She dug a heel into the graveled walk. “Thoughts?”

  Kristen tried to keep her relief from showing. “Masks? That’s it?” Madeline nodded. “Well,” she said carefully. “Can you pass along word to Vaughn? I’ll tell Erin.”

  For just a split second, Madeline glanced away.

  “Is there something else?” Kristen asked.

  “Kristen, I talked to . . .” She pressed her mouth into a hard line, then gave her head a shake as if talking herself out of whatever she’d been about to say. “Vaughn and Erin are covered. What about Eden?”

  “No,” Kristen said instantly, and started back toward the entrance of the cemetery. “Absolutely not.”

  “Can you please for once not act like a child?” Madeline said, throwing her hands into the air. “Look, Eden didn’t exactly beg Gabe to kill her. She didn’t ask for this any more than we did.”

  Kristen kept her voice low, a quiet threat. “Listen to me very carefully. Without that girl, Gabe never would have Fallen in the first place. The Bound wouldn’t be after us. And I—” would never have gone to Luke, she thought, part of her wondering if it would have been better that way, another not wanting to know. “I won’t have Eden and her pathetic minion dragging us down. That’s final.”

  Madeline sighed. “Without us, she’s on her own. And she’s already lost Az, Kristen. We could use her—”

  “What about what I lost?” Kristen shouted. A flock of blackbirds flapped out of a nearby tree, cawing their displeasure.

  Madeline’s gaze followed the birds as they flew over a frozen pond and settled again on the peaked roof of a small mausoleum.

  “Let it go.” Kristen’s voice was flat. “She ruins everything she touches.”

  “We all do,” Madeline said quietly. “Kristen, she called me. Just before I got here. She’s sick, and on the run.” Madeline tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. “Her apartment wasn’t safe. She needs Touch to survive, and now she has no way to find Siders.”

  “If she’s that weak, she’s a liability anyway.” Kristen felt her dress snag on the rough edge of a gravestone.

  Madeline grabbed her shoulder. “Would you stop punishing the girl just because you’re not Gabriel’s special little princess anymore! Get. Over. It.”

  “So I’m supposed to what?” Kristen spat, her cheeks burning. “Have her kill Sebastian so she feels better? Or maybe you can offer up Jackson?”

  At the mention of her own Second, Madeline’s glare grew cold.

  “And when she needs another Sider in a day? And then another? We’re searching out everyone we can to fight the Bound, and all the while Eden’s killing them off one by one. That makes her an enemy.” Kristen softened her voice, leaning against the stone crypt. “It’s not that I hate her, Madeline; I just don’t want her close again. Because eventually?” she said. “Something unpleasant is going to have to be done about Eden.”

  CHAPTER 7

  When Eden licked her lips, she tasted ash. The outburst with Gabe earlier had cost her, and she’d already burned through the little Touch Jarrod had passed her. Each inhale of cold air only made her lungs worse.

  “This is stupid,” Jarrod mumbled, but it was halfhearted. They’d been out of the apartment since just after Gabriel bolted, unwilling to risk the Bound showing up. When they’d left, there’d been no Siders on the stairs, no time to wait. She, Jarrod, and Sullivan had kept on the move, loitering in shops only long enough to get warm. Eventually, Eden had needed Sullivan’s help to walk.

  Now, grit caked Eden’s palms and nail beds. She could smell the cinders on her cheeks, the ashes flaking from her hair. Slowly, she removed her scarf. “How bad?”

  Sullivan winced, swiping at Eden’s cheek before she licked her thumb and wiped harder. The skin there felt tight, fragile and falling apart. “God, you look like death warmed over,” Sullivan whispered.

  A well-timed shiver shook through Eden. She managed a weak chuckle. “Not so warm.”

  Jarrod studied her face, concerned. “Just a few more minutes, Eden.”

  “I’m hanging in there,” she wheezed. A cough tickled her windpipe, but she swallowed it down despite the taste in the back of her throat.

  Jarrod took her elbow, Sullivan on the other side. “I really don’t like this, though,” he said.

  “I don’t like it either,” Eden said. Earlier, Madeline had agreed to help them, to meet her. Half an hour ago, Eden had gotten a text from her abruptly retracting the offer. When Eden asked for a reason, there’d been no response. Kristen hadn’t answered her calls. She had no number for Erin, or Vaughn, though she couldn’t imagine calling him.

  Eden scanned the pedestrians walking on either side of the street, the rooftops above them. Coming back to the apartment after Gabe’s warning was foolish, stupid, but she had no choice. Without a Sider, she’d crumble to ash. “If there’s anyone on the stairs,” she said, trying to reassure Jarrod and Sullivan, “I’ll take them quick and we’ll head to Milton’s. Maybe there’s a chance Zach can help us. We at least need to warn him.”

  “And he should know how to find some other Siders in the area,” Jarrod said.

  Eden squeezed Jarrod’s shoulder hard as a sharp knife of pain stabbed through her. Just as they reached the alley, her legs wobbled. She fought to stay on her feet. Jarrod hitched her up. “You’ve gotta walk, Eden.”

  “It hurts so bad,” she panted. Agony blurred her vision. The stairs were so close. If she could just rest for a bit, she knew she could make it. “Stop. Just for a second.”

  Before she knew what was happening, Jarrod had set her down and taken off. Sullivan called his name and he twisted around as he ran. “Stay with her,” he demanded.

  Eden curled up, not caring about the dirty slush she lay in. “If I don’t . . . Take care of Jarrod, okay?” she begged Sullivan.

  “Jesus, Academy Award, he’s already on his way back.” The sarcasm nearly hid the fear in Sullivan’s voice. “You’re not gonna die in the next ten seconds.”

  Eden swiped the gathering ashes from her eyes, didn’t believe it until she saw four blurred shapes hurrying toward her. Jarrod dropped down beside her, lifted her until she was sitting. “Ready?” he asked, panting.

  The first Sider, a girl, came forward, close. Eden let out a strangled exhale and the girl disintegrated into ash, settling on the dirty drifts of snow.

  A tingle spread over Eden’s cheekbones and tickled down her windpipe as her body used the Touch to heal. She laid her head back against Jarrod’s shoulder in relief. Her skin buzzed, electric. She didn’t have to look at her hands to know the gray on her fingers would be gone, if only for a little while.

  Sullivan stared at her in wonder. “You look much better,” she said.

  “We cut it a little too close that time,” Jarrod said as he moved out from behind Eden.

  Eden dragged the sleeve of her coat over her face. When she looked up, her vision had cleared, though her eyes were still irritated. “I need an
other,” she said.

  There were two guys left. One stepped forward. The closer he got, the more she could see the heaviness of the Touch he carried. How much he wanted to be free of it. More importantly, he hadn’t been passing.

  “Wait. You,” she said to the other Sider as she struggled to her feet. “Have a phone?” He nodded uncertainly. She took it from him and programmed her number in. Instead of a name, she hit the asterisk and handed it back. “Tell everyone you know to spread the word that the Siders are under attack. For protection, they should head to one of the territory leaders. Anyone who needs me, you give my number. I’ll be on the move so they won’t find me here. Have them call and I’ll meet them.” She pointed to the head of the alley, hoping her urgency would be enough for him to take her seriously. “Spread the word today and you can call me tomorrow.”

  He gaped at her, holding the phone. “Under attack by who?”

  “Get your ass out of my alley,” she snapped. She watched him walk away before she turned back to the Sider left behind.

  “Hurry, Eden,” Jarrod said from a few yards away. Tension stiffened his stance, as he surveyed from one end of the alley to the other. Sullivan moved from her side to join him.

  The Sider in front of her watched in a mixture of reverence and respect. He held out a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. She shoved it into her pocket without thinking.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Eden started, her voice low enough not to carry beyond the two of them. She slid closer to him, her feet moving almost on their own. When she took in his Touch, it would make everything so much better. “You’re gonna keep spreading your Touch Upstairs, okay?” She didn’t know if he’d heard about the angels, if he’d remember any of this. “And when they catch you,” Eden went on, squeezing his cheeks, “you tell them to send me Az. Got it? Send me Az or I won’t stop.” She probably looked like a raving lunatic, but didn’t care. The boy breathed faster. She grabbed the collar of his coat. Pure need coursed through her veins.

 

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