A Touch Mortal

by Leah Clifford

  “What the hell?” She fumbled in the dim light, her fingers clawing up the base of a lamp, clicking it on. The brightness made her wince. “Hello?” she called, forcing her eyes open. A glance was enough to tell her the room was empty. She wasn’t in her bed, not in the hotel; the room wasn’t one she recognized.

  Somewhere in another part of the house, voices drifted, strange music, the sounds of a party.

  The room wasn’t large, only the bed and a dresser. A mirror above it. She caught her reflection. Even the dark circles under her eyes were puffy, eyelids an angry swollen pink from crying. Az’s face crashed through her thoughts, the desperation on it as he fell. She closed her eyes, but the image only intensified.

  Her chest tightened. Everything inside her felt ripped out, raw. She tried to remember. Az. The hotel. She’d been on the beach, standing on the shore. Endless water. She forced her eyes open and threw off the covers. The air hit her clothes, the damp fabric already taking on a chill. Her hair hung in nearly dried clumps.

  “Gabe?” No one answered. She dropped her bare feet to the floor, scanned for her shoes. On the back of the closet door hung a ball gown, the black fabric standing out several feet. Her own shoes were nowhere, but tucked against the wall beside the dress rested a pair of black heels. An envelope rested carefully across the ankle straps. Eden crossed the room.

  Inside was a note, the words written in delicate calligraphy.

  Please join the festivities at your earliest convenience. Proper dress has been provided convenience. Proper dress has been provided.

  It was unsigned.

  The handwriting wasn’t Gabe’s, but he had to be downstairs. Eden stared down at the shoes. They seemed to be her size, or at least close. She eyed the dress wearily. Why did he bring me here? she wondered. Maybe it was a memorial. He must have thought I’d want to come. Being around people was the last thing she wanted. She’d find him and force him to take her back to the hotel. She couldn’t deal with going home.

  Eden’s feet slid perfectly into the shoes. Even with her own clothes damp and cold, she wasn’t about to throw on the dress.

  She ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair, suddenly overeager to be downstairs, to find Gabe.

  When she opened the door, the hallway beyond was dark, just enough light to find her way down it, the sweet serenade drawing her on.

  It was an old house; she could tell by the pinched walls, the way they seemed to close her in. Ahead, a swath of light cut around a corner. She drew her shoulders up, quickening her step.

  The banister began long before the slow wind of the staircase. Through the spindles, she could see a sea of black tuxedos, coattails twirling when the music demanded. Dozens of guys danced in a pattern straight out of seventeenth-century France. They ducked suddenly, hands clapping out a rhythm.

  The room below seemed to take up half of the first floor. It looked like something out of a sideshow where a person paid a nickel to see dead babies in jars. Sure enough, surrounded by candles housed in blackened goblets, there was a jar on the mantle. A sunken lump of black rested at the bottom. Eden forced her eyes away.

  The music swelled and she made out a swirl of color, then another. Gowns twirled through tunnels made of human arms. The song ended in the long draw of a bow against strings, holding the note until the dancers bowed and dispersed.

  Idle chatter drowned out the final strains of the music as everyone made their way to folding chairs set up against the walls. Hundreds of candles dripped lazily onto whatever surface they had been placed on, complementing the soft light from a chandelier. One of the rare girls mingled, spending a few seconds with each group before making her way to the next, her crimson dress like a beacon in the crowd of black suits.

  Eden watched, enraptured, until she managed to pull her eyes away, searching the crowd for Gabe. There were too many guys to find him, the masses blending together. She had no choice but to go down among them. She stood and made her way to the staircase.

  At the first landing, a young blond boy leaned against the railing, his elbows cocked back. He pulled his hands in as she made her way down, the white gloved fingers wrapping around the banister.

  She hesitated when she reached him, only because his mouth opened as if he were going to say something. She waited, neither of them moving.

  “Um,” she started.

  She wracked her brain, but there didn’t seem to be a protocol for waking up in a strange bedroom only to find fucking Versailles come to life downstairs. She wondered if perhaps it was a memorial for Az. She hadn’t met any of his other friends. Maybe that was why Gabe had brought her? But hours after he died? A sudden feeling of disorientation overwhelmed her. Had it only been hours? How long had she slept? And why the hell are they all wearing gloves?

  When she turned back to the kid to ask, he was holding his elbow out to her.

  “Kristen’s been delayed.” He thrust the elbow out again. He couldn’t have been more than twelve, thirteen tops. His eyes were unnerving. Desperate.

  “Who?” Eden asked. She took a step back, but he only moved closer. “Thanks, but I’m looking for a friend.”

  He glanced behind her, eyes darting though his head barely moved. He hooked her arm, no longer waiting for her permission. His tone morphed into an urgent whisper. “Go! Before she sees that you’re up.”

  “Cameron.” The voice came from far beyond him, somewhere in the darkness of the huge house. The boy’s shoulders clenched up, his feet stopping dead. He didn’t look back. “It is Cameron, right?” the voice asked sweetly. He squeezed his eyes shut, nodded his head. Eden spun, her arm still latched around his, pulling him with her. “Exactly what advice were you passing on to her, Cameron?”

  A hand was wrapped around the ball of the newel post. Perfectly manicured nails scratched lightly against the wood. A ball gown swept around her feet as she rounded the post. The deep green of the gown matched eyes sparkling with malice. Her bun of red hair only set them off further.

  “Look, I’m not sure…” How I woke up here, if you are all in a cult, if the police will find pieces of me buried in the backyard. Eden started again. “I’m looking for my friend.”

  The girl never turned to Eden, never even acknowledged she was there. Her attention stayed on Cameron. His arm clutched tighter around Eden’s.

  “Kristen told me to stop her before she got downstairs….” Ball Gown held up a finger, silencing him. A sad smile dug into the corners of her mouth as she began to take the stairs, dropping step by step.

  “You’re avoiding the question, Cameron.”

  “I’m sorry, Madeline.” His voice disintegrated into a terrified whine. “Please don’t tell Kristen.”

  Eden stepped forward, between her and Cameron. At Eden’s back, the kid shivered.

  “Hey, listen. Madeline, is it? It’s fine, really. I need to find—”

  There was a yank at her arm, a thudding up the stairs as the boy broke into a run. Eden tried to watch where he went over Madeline’s shoulder, but the glare called her attention back.

  “I was speaking.” Her face pinched, as if she couldn’t quite believe Eden dared to address her. “And you interrupted me.”

  Eden was ready to spit out some form of “sorry” until she remembered the terrified look on the kid’s face. Anticipation surged into Madeline’s eyes. Clearly an apology wasn’t the way to go. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Excuse me.” She tried to brush past, but Madeline blocked her path.

  The girl finally smiled. “So you’re Kristen’s new recruit? You can follow me. I’m sure she’ll be along shortly.” She spun away, the heavy material of her dress swishing with her every step.

  After a second of hesitation, Eden followed her down the stairs into the crowd, to the back of the room. Madeline, wearing a friendly grin, took a seat on an antique settee.

  “Sit!” Madeline said, her finger twisting the flame-red strands that had come loose from her bun. The gloves she wore matched her gow
n. What the hell’s with the gloves? Eden wondered again as Madeline patted the empty space beside her. “So, how are you holding up? The first few days are awful, but it gets better.”

  Eden choked back a breath, unprepared. He’s really gone. Her eyes welled up. So it was some kind of memorial. “I’m…it was unexpected.” For some reason the comment brought an appreciative chuckle from the other girl.

  “How could you have known?” Her smile faded before she caught it, pinned her cheeks back with renewed vigor. Her eyes jolted to the stairs and back, almost too quick to catch. “Well, you must be special. Kristen brought out the good china for your little shindig,” she prodded, flicking a hand to the stenciled teacup beside her. She lifted it, took a slow sip as she gave Eden a once-over. “Though I have no idea how you got past her wearing that attire.”

  “This isn’t my ‘shindig.’” Eden didn’t bother to dull the frustration from her voice. “Listen, I lost my boyfriend tonight, so I could honestly care less what you think about my—”

  “Boyfriend?” The statement clearly caught Madeline off guard. “I can guarantee your boyfriend’s not here.”

  Eden’s stomach twisted. “Lost as in he’s dead. Gabe must have brought me here after Az—”

  “Az?” she interrupted. “And Gabriel?”

  Eden hesitated. None of this made sense. “This is a memorial for Az, right? It’s the only reason Gabe would—”

  Madeline’s face paled, the only color surviving in two perfect swipes of rouge across her cheeks. “Are you saying Az is dead?” The teacup sloshed in her shaking hand, splashing onto the floral material of the cushion between them.

  Eden let out a slow breath. “There was an accident,” she said quietly. Madeline hadn’t known.

  The gathering wasn’t a memorial. Her eyes skirted the room for Gabe again, but didn’t find him. What if he didn’t bring me? She tried again to remember. She’d been on the beach, alone. Gabe had been worried about the Fallen. You don’t know what they look like. Dread trickled into her as she turned back to Madeline. “Why am I here?” she asked.

  In her peripheral vision she saw a figure break from the crowd. Her gaze shot up as a red-gowned girl barreled toward them, long brown hair streaming down her back, eyes brimming with madness.

  “That piece of furniture you’ve just ruined is older than you could ever hope to become,” she screeched, snatching the cup away. She slammed it down, the rest of the tea dripping off the end table onto the carpet.

  “Kristen!” Madeline yelled. The room around them stopped. Eden turned, meeting dozens of eyes now locked on their corner. Madeline thrust a finger into Eden’s face. She dropped her voice to an accusatory hiss too low to be heard by any but the three of them. “She seems to think Az is dead. Care to clarify why I wasn’t told?”

  “Possibly because you don’t need to know everything.” She spun on Eden. “Who told you to talk to Madeline? You were supposed to stay with Cameron to avoid this very thing.” Kristen let loose a squeal of frustration, slamming her foot down. “You’re ruining everything! And after the energy I’ve expended to make you feel welcome?”

  “Welcome her?” Madeline sneered. “Kristen, there are more important things than one of your hideous debut parties! What happened to Az?”

  Kristen’s jaw dropped, brown eyes filling with rage. “My parties are not hideous!”

  The crowd parted again to let a guy through. He stepped in front of Kristen, his face eerily calm as his eyes locked on Madeline, his hand clamping onto her shoulder.

  “You’re only scaring the poor girl, Madeline.” His voice was a warning. “Kristen, perhaps we should call it a night?” It wasn’t a command, the end lifted in a question. Kristen nodded.

  “Gentlemen and ladies,” he yelled, his voice booming. “The evening has come to an end.” The effect was instant, the room splitting in two. Half the dancers retreated up the staircase, down the left wing, the opposite direction Eden had come from earlier. The others stood frozen, as if awaiting command.

  “Go home, Madeline,” the guy said. She glared at him, shrugging off the hand at her shoulder.

  “I think that’s a fucking brilliant idea, Sebastian.” Madeline flicked her hand toward the door and the dozen leftover teenagers trudged out silently.

  “Madeline.” Kristen’s voice dropped, her eyes steely. “You will not whisper a word of this. Are we clear?”

  “Az’s girlfriend a Sider?” Madeline threw a hand on her hip. “Keeping that secret is going to cost you.” Eden stared. Who the hell were these people?

  Kristen sighed. “I am aware of that.”

  “I’ll call you with my price.” Madeline smiled with satisfaction and headed out the door.

  “And now…,” Sebastian trailed off, his chin jutting Eden’s way.

  “I know that, Sebastian,” Kristen ground out before turning to Eden. “Would you follow me?” She wandered across the floor, kicking a streamer out of the way. Eden took a few steps before she stopped, hesitating between the staircase and the front door. Sebastian leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest. His stance didn’t exactly scream “you’re free to go.”

  “I’m not going up there. Where’s Gabe?” Eden asked. “And what the hell is a Sider?”

  Kristen had made it halfway up the staircase. She groaned when Eden spoke, throwing her head back in frustration. “Could you please just follow me?”

  “I want to go home.” The whole night had been one mind-fuck after another.

  Kristen dropped back down half a dozen steps. When she spoke, her words were slow and short, patronizing. “It’s been a disaster of an evening. I am using the very last of my patience to show you back to your room, after which I’ll be tracking down Cameron to ensure his failure has a fitting consequence.”

  “My room?” Eden stepped back once, toward the door.

  Kristen swept up the rest of the stairs, coming to a stop at the top. “Gabriel left you in my care. Perhaps you’ll follow me for his sake?”

  “Where is he?” She couldn’t keep the shaking from her voice.

  “He was concerned about your safety while he addressed some…” She met Eden’s eye. “Issues that came up tonight.”

  “Then give me a phone. I’m not staying here. I need to call home for a ride.” She knew it wasn’t likely anyone would answer, didn’t care. She’d fake the phone call and get the hell out. “My mom has to be freaking out,” she added. “She’s probably filed a missing person’s report by now.”

  Kristen leaned against the banister, watching her in silence. “I doubt that very much.”

  Then she spun, heading down the hall, ending the conversation, leaving Eden little choice but to follow.

  The first few doors on either side of the hall had been closed, light glowing from under the cracks beneath them. Beyond those few, though, they were all open and dark. Kristen finally reached into one, flipping the switch. Eden slowed her steps, leery. She watched Kristen for a moment from the threshold before she sat on the edge of the bed. Kristen closed the door, leaned against it.

  “If I could just call Gabe,” Eden started, but Kristen waved her into silence. She ignored her. “You’re a friend of his?”

  Kristen ran a finger down the door, tapping her nail against the knob. “One might say that.” Her tone suggested something more.

  Eden raised an eyebrow at the insinuation. “Then clearly you don’t know him that well.”

  Kristen threw her head back as she laughed. “Really now? Isn’t it possible that you don’t know him as well as you thought?”

  The air seemed to leave her lungs. Everything she’d known had been twisted around tonight.

  Kristen rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Eden, you’re such an open book. I can actually see you puzzling it out.” Her voice rose an octave, mocking. “‘This girl I’ve just met told me he was lying so he must be.’” Her face went hard. “Gabe is your friend. Try to show some fucking loyalty, hmm?”

  Eden�
��s mouth dropped open in shock. “Who are you?”

  “Where were you tonight, Eden? Before you woke up here.”

  “After Az…” The words thickened in her throat with the memory of Az’s face as he fell, his body lying broken on the pavement.

  Kristen nodded, her face almost sympathetic. “Go on.”

  “I was on the beach,” she stuttered.

  “In the water or out?”

  “In.” Her brow furrowed. Why was it so fuzzy? “I was standing, in the water.” She hesitated. “I was standing in the water and…then nothing. I woke up here.” Kristen slid off one glove in a deliberate sweeping gesture before turning her attention back to Eden.

  “All right, my little blank slate, let’s just dive in, shall we?” The gloved hand shot forward suddenly, grabbing Eden’s wrist.

  “Let go!” Eden jerked, but Kristen held tight. “What are you doing?”

  Kristen’s grin spread. She dragged Eden’s hand closer, until it hovered just above the ribbed corset of her dress.

  “You’re lying about the beach.” Kristen sneered as she yanked. “Everyone remembers their death.”

  Eden’s fingertips hit Kristen’s collarbone.

  The skin slid loose from Kristen’s face, down her cheeks. Eden couldn’t tear her hand away. Couldn’t move. One of Kristen’s eye sockets went hollow, the bone behind yellowed. What was left of her lips ripped apart as her smile widened.

  Eden wanted to scream, but nothing would come out.

  “Not even a shriek?” The features slid back to where they belonged, the pert nose seeming to form out of nowhere. There was no blood, everything back to normal. “Do not puke on my rug,” she said before releasing Eden’s hand. It hung there in the air, shaking.

  I’m hallucinating, she thought. It was the only explanation. Her mind clamped onto the idea, though her body hadn’t caught up, her mouth opening and closing like a dying carp. Stress. Grief. Or they drugged me. The excuses explained everything away in a dainty little package.

  “Would you like to know what happened on the beach, Eden?” Kristen snapped. She stepped closer even as Eden shrunk from her. “The idea of living a life without Az was just too much for your pretty little head. You stood in that water, and you couldn’t stand the thought of going on. You gave up.”