“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—”
“What do you mean killing James? When?” Gabe’s face paled. “How?”
“Yesterday,” she said, caught off guard. “The Fallen.” She paused. “Right?”
“It’s important that you listen to me, Eden, even if you hate me, just listen, okay?” She nodded, his panic seeping into her. “The Fallen can’t kill Siders. Even if the Bound did know about the Siders, they shouldn’t be able to either. You need to stop drawing attention until I figure out what can.” He shifted, climbing out of the booth. Eden followed his lead.
“You have to call Az,” he said. “You know how he feels about you. He’ll protect you better than anyone else could. And if something happens to me, he’ll need you to get him through without a Fall.”
Her head started a slow shake, building until she finally met his eyes. “No. He’s not my responsibility. I’m over him.”
“You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “Don’t be so stubborn! This is your excuse to call him. Use those feminine wiles to get back what you need”—he cast a quick glance at the door and stepped away from her—“instead of luring in boys who will never measure up. I trust you, and I trust you’re smart enough to swallow your pride and do what’s best. They’ll protect you for now, but soon I’m afraid it won’t be enough.” He was looking over her shoulder.
Eden turned, following his gaze. Adam stood near the door, kicking the snow off his boots as he scanned the room, searching for her.
Gabe grabbed her close again. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate. I’ll be in touch, okay?” He made his way through the maze of low tables and couches. Adam watched him cross the room. Gabe kept his eyes down as he passed. Walking out the door and down the sidewalk, he didn’t look back.
“Who was that?” Adam asked, jerking his chin toward the door.
“No one you need to worry about,” she answered, spinning around to throw an arm around his neck. Pulling him close, she kissed him deep and hard. He groaned as a bit of her Touch passed into him, but she only pressed harder, stealing it back. Fuck Gabe, she thought. Az had his chance.
CHAPTER 32
She heard the screams through the door. Bloodcurdling, murderous screams, and for a second her hand froze and she couldn’t turn the knob. But then some part of her brain snapped back into place and she was inside, throwing open Jarrod’s door, Adam at her back.
Libby’s back was arched, Jarrod pushing down on each of her shoulders and still she was bucking off the mattress.
“Eden! Help me!” he screamed.
She ran, swinging herself around the edge of the bed by the post on the footboard and grabbed hold of the handcuffs already snapped around the strong metal rungs of the headboard. Jarrod grunted as he forced Libby’s arm up. Eden snapped the cuff around Libby’s wrist.
“You bitch!” Libby screamed, her hair streaming loose, flying as she thrashed back and forth. Eden ignored her, climbed over to help Adam force the second wrist up to where she could hook Libby’s other arm.
Eden yelped as the cuff locked, a jolt of pain bursting from her thigh. Libby’s teeth sunk deeper as Jarrod reached down, squeezing the sides of her clamped jaw until it was forced open.
“Fuck,” Eden groaned, limping to the doorway, rubbing the skin. The leather of her pants held a perfect dented impression of Libby’s teeth around the hole they’d torn clean through.
Adam backed slowly from the writhing prisoner, as if he expected her to rip the cuffs off and come at them.
“Let me see,” Adam said, dropping to get a better look at the wound. An angry tear settled into the corner of Eden’s eye. “She got you good,” he said, gingerly laying his fingertips against the edges of the hole in her ruined pants.
“Leave it. It’s nothing. When did she get like this?” Eden asked in disbelief.
“Ten minutes ago,” Jarrod said from the other side of the room, hovering close but out of range of Libby’s kicks. “Came out of nowhere.”
“I’ll fucking kill all of you!” Libby screamed, wrenching her head back and forth, slamming her shoulder into the headboard, trying to break the bed apart. Jarrod picked a pillow up off the floor and slid it in, buffering her attack on the bed. Suddenly the evilness dropped out of her voice as her eyes found Eden. “Please let me go,” she sobbed. “I have to get rid of it! Don’t you understand how much it hurts?” The last few words were almost unrecognizable, her voice breaking into heaving gasps.
Jarrod’s eyes widened a
s her focus switched to him. “You’re just going to stand there and do nothing? They’re killing me, Jarrod. They’re killing us both, the two of them,” she cried, locking eyes on him. Jarrod’s face crumbled as he looked up at Eden, unsure.
“If it doesn’t get better in an hour, she’s gonna have to pass,” Eden said, hating herself just the same.
“Jarrod…,” Libby’s singsong call sounded out. She batted her eyelashes, streaks of mascara running down her blotchy face. “They’re against you, you know. Look at them, Jarrod. Don’t her lips look a little red? Like she’s been kissing him?” Libby threw her head back, cackling. With her hands in the cuffs, pulled up on either side of her, she looked like some demonic marionette. Suddenly her head snapped up and she froze, whispering, eyes lolling up to Jarrod. “If she blushes, you know I’m right!” She kicked her heels into the mattress with glee. Jarrod could do nothing but stare, mouth agape like the rest of them. “Fucking look at her, Jarrod!” she commanded.
And he did. As he turned, Eden felt the heat start, trace up her neck and then deepen as Libby let out another round of kicks and gibberish. Jarrod’s head cocked, watching Eden. Her head slowly started to shake a denial, but then she felt Adam’s hand on her shoulder.
“I toooooold you!” Libby shrieked.
“Shut up, Libby,” Jarrod said, his voice monotone. He pushed past them, not bothering to close the door. “Adam’s been after her forever. She was bound to give in sometime.”
On the bed, Libby’s head dropped as if someone had suddenly switched her off.
“Watch out for the green vomit,” Adam whispered. “Was I the only one waiting for her head to spin?”
“Not funny,” Eden said, pushing past him.
She came up behind Jarrod where he stood at the window. “We were going to tell you. This just happened. Like, minutes ago.” He sighed hard, turning on her.
“Would you fucking get over yourself? You think I care what you and him do? I’m worried about her, Eden!”
“Oh,” she said, taking a step back. She watched him carefully, not sure if he’d given in to Touch or just gotten upset at Libby’s outburst. If the difference mattered.
“James wasn’t like this when he stopped spreading. Ever. I didn’t expect…” He paused as they both turned at the sound of footsteps. Adam slunk into Eden’s room, closing the door behind him to give them some privacy. “I just didn’t expect that,” Jarrod finished. “That was fucked…up.”
“Yeah,” Eden said, but couldn’t find any follow-up words. No encouragement to offer. Maybe I should end this, she thought. Take off on my own. The Fallen would have to track her down, leave the others alone.
“She just turned on us,” he said, confusion in his voice. “It was like she wanted us fighting.”
“No, that wasn’t her, Jarrod.”
“It was some part of her,” he whispered.
“No. She probably picked up on me and Adam, and the Touch just twisted it,” she said. “That’s all it was. You can’t hold it against her. It’s only going to make it worse for you if you’re upset.”
He turned back to the window. She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Let it go, Jarrod.”
He nodded. She gave him a second, but when he didn’t say anything, she crossed the room to her own door, opening it.
Adam was on the bed. His eyes opened when he heard the door, finding her shadow in the darkness the covered windows cast.
“So you think you can just wander into my room whenever you feel like it now?” she asked, crawling onto the bed.
He smiled, letting his eyes drift closed again, as she straddled him. “You kissed me. I figured I had some power.”
“I took it back,” she reminded him. For just a moment—half—there was that image, long hair gliding across Az’s strong chest and then it was gone. She ran her fingers across the bare nape of her neck, the short strands tickling across her pinky.
“That’s not the kind of power I was talking about,” Adam said. He reached up, pulling her down into his arms. His lips wandered a broken trail down her neck to her collarbone. It almost felt treasonous, how easily her head leaned back in welcome, when Jarrod was probably still at the window, worried Libby wouldn’t get better. But she couldn’t help the butterflies, the way her fingers curled against Adam’s back.
“Your phone,” he whispered. Light blinked into the room as the display lit up.
“Ignore it,” she mumbled, wishing she’d turned the damn thing off, but Adam had already glanced at the flashing glow as her cell rattled against the nightstand.
Pulling back to pick it up and hand it to her he said, “Can’t. It’s Kristen.”
Eden sat up, flipping the phone open. “Yeah?” she asked, trying to concentrate, her brain not doing so well with the sudden topic change.
Adam wasn’t helping. He leaned in, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and kissing the line of her jaw.
“‘Never again would birds’ song be the same. And to do that to birds was why she came.’” Kristen’s voice was full of wonder.
“Frost,” Eden said. For a long time, they were both silent. Eden pulled the phone from her ear, sure the call had been dropped, but the counter on its face ticked off each second. “It’s Robert Frost, right?”
“You’re sending Siders Upstairs? Do you have any idea of the damage this will cause?” Kristen started.
Eden drew a breath, held it as she tried to think of some snappy comeback. Anything. “Gabe told you.”
“Actually, no. I talked to your boy.” For a moment Eden wasn’t sure who she was talking about as Adam’s hand wound its way down her leg.
“Az?” she said, bolting up. On her thigh, Adam’s hand froze.
“Yes, Az!” Kristen yelled, for once agitated enough to skip the games. “He’s worried about you, Eden. You’re playing a dangerous game, and I won’t be a pawn. You need to talk to him.”
“Really, Kristen? You’ve demoted yourself to being a secretary?” And there it was; the sarcasm coming easy, but too late. She could hear the pause as Kristen rolled her eyes.
“I prefer the term ‘administrative assistant,’ if you must know. And if that’s what it takes, then yes.”
Eden pushed a fist into the mattress, adjusting to slide her legs underneath her. Pain shot through her leg, the fabric of her pants pressing down on the bite. Adam sat up, crossing his legs, his eyes downcast.
“I’m not interested in anything he has to offer, least of all protection,” she said through gritted teeth.
“No, Eden. He…” There was a rustle on the other end of the line, a murmur of another voice. “He says Gabe wasn’t going to tell you everything…”—a scratch as Kristen slid the phone into her palm. Eden pressed until her ear stung, trying to catch the exchange in the background. “He says he has to tell you about…”
She barely made out the whisper of an argument and then, “Eden?”
His voice there, and hesitant, and full of remorse. Everything stopped. Her heart stalled in the silence as he waited for her to answer.
She tossed the phone away. It fell to the bedspread, propped up against Adam’s knee.
“Eden? Are you there?” Az’s voice was distorted, drifting unwelcome into her room, just enough to hear the confusion when he said, “I think she hung up?” before the screen went dark.
“The boy from the picture,” Adam said, taking his hand from her leg. Eden nodded slowly, unable to look away from the blackened screen, the V shape of her phone. When Adam shifted, it flopped over.
“I hung up on him,” she said, as if it had been a test of loyalty. But there was a nagging behind it. She hadn’t. Az had hung up on her when she hadn’t answered.
“I don’t understand,” Adam said. “I thought he was from before?”
“He is,” Eden whispered.
“No.” Adam hesitated, trying to put the pieces together. “You said he was the reason you…”
“He is,” Eden rep
eated. “And he was.” She tore her eyes from the phone, focused on Adam.
“He knows you’re a Sider? Eden, but he’s a mortal!” Confusion and horror fought for control of his features. “How does he even remember you?”
“No.” Eden’s shoulders fell. She shouldn’t have listened to Adam, should have never answered the phone. “He’s not human.” When Adam didn’t say anything, she went on. “He’s not a Sider, either.” Suddenly she wanted to spill it all, to tell Adam everything. “He’s an angel.”
“Angel,” Adam said, his voice going deadpan. “You meant…like what, Eden? Like literally? Wings and halos?”
A sad sound somewhere between laughing and crying surged out of her. “No halo,” she said. “Not anymore.”
She watched his face. The first twitches across his forehead when he realized she wasn’t joking. A half breath as if he was going to speak and stopped himself.
“You don’t believe me,” she said finally.
“No.” He hesitated. “Angels don’t exist. It’s impossible. There is no God.” His hand twisted into the cuff of his jeans.
“Why would you think that? We exist. It’s not exactly a far stretch.”
He shook his head, his face full of uncertainty. “There should have been answers. Instead there’s just bullshit. There is no Heaven. There’s no Hell unless this is it. And if it is, no one bothered to tell me, which is fucked up.”
She held his gaze. “Is that why you killed yourself, Adam? To find answers?”
For a long time Adam said nothing, only stared at her. His eyes shone in the dim light. “So what? You think that’s a stupid reason?” She didn’t expect the anger in his voice. “You killed yourself over a guy, which is even stupider.” She winced. Adam closed his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just…That’s so…not you,” he said, changing the subject. “And then the angel thing? You can’t expect me to believe you.”
A Touch Mortal Page 18