Running her fingers along the edge of the roof, she scraped up a handful of pebbles, a few loose nuggets of tar paper. She tossed them over, one by one.
“You said you were sure.” He took another step forward, wiped his palms on his jeans. “You said you were okay.” Her shoulders twitched, but Sullivan didn’t answer. “I thought you wanted—”
“I did. What better way to go out, right?” He stayed to the left, finally got close enough to get a look at her face. She wasn’t smiling or crying anymore. Nothing. Simply staring off into space, throwing those tiny rocks over.
“Sullivan, this is just the Touch. You know that, right? All you have to do is reach back and grab my hand. We’ll get through it, and it’ll be over soon.”
“Over soon,” she repeated, her eyes glazed and far off. A chill crept across his neck. Her fingers dropped to the metal lip running around the edge of the roof, gripping it tight. “Or we could get it over now.”
He took a rush of six or seven steps until he was within ten feet of her. Ten feet to Sullivan. Ten feet to the edge. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t move.
He sunk slowly to the tar, his chest tightening. The smell hit him, chemicals and dirt and blood. No. He took a deep breath. Not blood. That’s over. He swallowed hard, his mouth so dry his throat felt like sandpaper. Jarrod started to crawl. “Sullivan, talk to me. Look, this is not a road you want to go down.”
She shifted, scraped her feet back over the lip. A draft surged up the side of the building and crested, lifting her hair along with it. She turned toward him, just out of his reach as she stood up. Her eyes were wild. “How would you know?”
“Because I did it,” he yelled. “And it didn’t make anything better. It didn’t solve a fucking thing. I lucked out and I got a second chance. But you won’t, Sullivan.” His voice broke. “You won’t.”
“I can’t go back there.” He could barely hear her. “I can’t let him find me.”
“Back to Vaughn?” he asked carefully, and Sullivan nodded. “Please, take two steps forward. We can talk. I don’t want you to fall.”
Her lips parted, twitched at the corners. “I came up here to jump, Jarrod. You do get that, right?”
“No, I totally got that part. Message received loud and clear.” He sucked a hard breath, rose onto his knees. “It’d be really awesome if you clue me in on the why.”
“Vaughn won’t let me go. I can run and run. He always finds me.” She nodded, almost to herself. “But not this time. This time I have a solid plan.”
“No, you have a shitty plan.” He crawled another two feet. “Very bad plan.”
Everything that should have been solid felt wobbly, but he managed to get one foot underneath him, trying to stand, before he froze again.
“Sullivan, look at me.” He shifted, closing his eyes as he held out his hand, but forcing them open again. He was nowhere near the edge and still he felt like any movement would send him over. “Whatever he did to you… Look, I know we just met, so my promises don’t mean a thing to you, but if you give me a chance, you have my word I’ll help you.” He lowered his voice. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, hardly even touched her lips really. Her laugh lurched out, a humorless, lonely thing. “I let them touch me, Jarrod. I wanted them to.” Her lip quivered. “But they wouldn’t stop.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “They’d sneak up behind me and brush my shoulder. The back of my neck. My face while I was sleeping. Any skin. When they gave me too much… Vaughn… He’d lock me in a room and—”
“You want to quit? Is that it?” Jarrod slid his other foot underneath him, stood, his hands splayed.
Sullivan stared down over the edge. “They wouldn’t stop touching me,” she whispered. “And now I can’t stop wanting more.”
“Sullivan, look at me.” She shook her head as she brought a hand up to her mouth. “That’s over, okay?” Jarrod said. “Eden, she’s my roommate; she can help you quit. She’s badass. You have my word: you’re not going anywhere you don’t want to go.”
“That’s a slippery promise,” she whispered as her gaze slid over her shoulder to the parking lot below. She seemed to teeter, and the dizzy rush of fear exploded through him again.
“There is no reason for you not to come inside with me.”
“What does it matter?” She kicked, sent a spray of detritus scattering into the empty air inches from her. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t know!” he yelled. “But until now this has been the best night I’ve had in a long time!” He stalled out, the words falling away.
She shook her head, staring off toward the horizon. “Only because of Touch. I’m fun when I’m on it. Without it I’m no one special.”
“You’re lying,” he said. She turned toward him, a flicker flashing through her eyes at the challenge. “I know this isn’t the time for pickup lines, but if your options are kill yourself or hang out with me, it would be a serious blow to my ego to not get picked.”
She looked down at her feet, up at him.
“One step,” he said. She took it, and he let out a half breath in relief. “One more, Sullivan.”
Her hand hit his. She dropped against him.
Now, with her next to him, everything suddenly hazed over. Like a terrible trick, the adrenaline seemed to drain out of him.
Jarrod licked his lips. “Listen, I know this is incredibly messed up and ironic considering, but I need you to help me. I have to get inside. Now. I’m gonna freak out in, like, five seconds.” A memory slashed through his head. Wind whistling past his ears, the fall, so far, Eden’s face above him getting smaller.
Sullivan’s arm wrapped around him. “Jarrod?”
“Get me off the roof.” He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. “Just get me off the roof.”
She hauled him to the door, grabbed for the handle, and pulled him through. He sucked in a lungful of air, pressing against the wall, sliding down it to the floor, his eyes shut.
“Jarrod?” He heard her fear but couldn’t get his mouth to work to say anything to set her at ease.
“I don’t do roofs.” His voice cracked, and he felt his face grow hot. “I need a second.”
Her fingers ran through his hair, front to back, the motion soothing. He concentrated on the feel of her touch.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her fingers stilling in his hair.
He opened his eyes. She stared at the wall across from them. A muscle near her jaw twitched, a frown digging in, taking hold.
“This, right here?” He pointed at the closed door. “This is your rock bottom. From here on there’s nowhere to go but up.” He stood and took her hand. The last minutes had broken apart any doubts he’d had about trusting her. “We’ll go see Eden in the morning, okay?”
CHAPTER 17
Gabe winced, though the light in the hallway wasn’t bright. He felt drunk or drugged or both, uncertain whose door he was propped up against until he pulled away and saw the brass letter nailed above him.
He sighed in relief. His mouth was sour, his head pounding, but the door he rested against was his own. The only problem was him being on the wrong side of it.
Another blackout.
“Oh, head, you are not happy with me,” he grumbled, staggering to his feet. He leaned against the doorframe and waited for the world to steady. He flexed his hands, rolling his wrists in a circle to check for sore muscles. None. He checked his fingernails. No dried blood. Okay, so you didn’t fight anyone.
His hand shook as he reached into his coat pocket for his key. When he took it out, a business card tumbled to the floor. As he slid his key into the dead bolt, he looked down.
HIVE
the card read, glossy yellow letters against a black background.
COME CATCH A BUZZ!
Gabe bent slowly to pick it up, ignoring the pain in his skull. There was a number, an address on Staten Island. The name held no meaning for him. Had he been there last night
? Was he supposed to go there? He flipped the card over. A message was scrawled on the back.
A favor for the angel on everyone’s naughty list. Watch and learn. Hurry. We’re losing them.
Underneath it, a perfect lipstick print of a pink kiss.
Dull dread coursed through him. He stared at the card. Someone knew him, had found him and gotten close enough to leave the card with him. Or had he taken it himself? A fierce urge ripped through him. Protective. Az. Losing Az? But the card had said “them.” Who else?
He closed his eyes, trying to force the memories back. Who had given him the card? The demons … the mortal boy’s death. He’d thrown up on the subway stairs and then—
Beats. Thumping bass and lights. A voice, female, familiar, yelling into his ear above the music. “Another mortal path to check … forget all about me in the morning, baby.” Snippets of conversation. And then part of his own answer. “—would never forget!” Her laugh, a flash of white teeth, pink lips pulling back in a smile. “You’re not ready yet. Open your mouth.” Bitterness on his tongue. A dissolving pill. “That’ll help you get there,” she whispered. Her lips hit his cheek. “In and out.” Her voice, concerned. “In and out,” he promised.
His fingers rose to his cheek, the skin there oily with old lipstick. He let out a frustrated yell, slammed his knuckles against the door. “Come on! Remember!” he screamed, gripping the doorframe. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Come on.”
Nothing. The memory was gone again.
He stormed out of the apartment building, yanking his hood up as he covered the block to the subway entrance. He’d go to this Hive place. Someone had to have seen him last night. A bartender would know something. A bouncer. He’d make them talk.
Gabe hopped the turnstile and jogged. Wind stirred through the tunnel as the train screeched into the station. The few people on the platform pressed forward. He fought his way to a seat at the back of the car, pulling his hood down over his eyes.
Someone fell into the seat beside him.
His eyes flicked over. No. He froze, his breath choking off. He fought the urge to look, the need to see her, turned toward the window.
Her. Kristen. Memories flashed through him. Feelings of friendship rose bile in his throat. He ground his teeth, already feeling himself losing control.
Could she have given you the card?
Her gloved hand gripped his arm.
He jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”
“My God, it’s true.” She leaned forward, trying to get a look at his face, but he kept his head down. “What have they done to you, Gabriel?”
One stop and he could make a run for it. Before he did something terrible. “That’s not my name.”
It was true. He wasn’t Gabriel, not anymore. And if she hadn’t known that, Kristen hadn’t been the one to leave him the card. Her voice didn’t match the one in his memory.
“It was once. It will be again.” She didn’t give up, scooting closer, pinning him tighter against the wall as he shrank from her. Already he felt the ice inside, shifting, gathering.
He threw back the hood. “Get off at the next stop.” His hand shot out, and he squeezed her wrist hard enough that he felt her bones grinding. Before he could push it away, a smile crossed his lips at the fear in her eyes. “Get up. Get away from me. To the other door.” Soon he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself. “Please,” he whispered. His gut twisted as she shook her head.
“I’m not leaving. We’ll find a way to fix this, Gabriel. You helped me for years. Let me help you.” He winced.
“You shouldn’t have come.” His grip tightened, and she hissed.
“You’re hurting me!”
He met her eyes. Let her see the malice in his. “I know.”
He could almost feel the satisfied pop of capillaries bursting under his fingers. She yanked back, but he didn’t break his hold. Defiance kept the pain from her face. Her eyes had lost their look of fear. How long would it take to break her? A thrill skittered through him.
“You want to hurt me, fine, but I’m not leaving without you. Talk to me. Tell me what happened, and we’ll figure out how to save you.”
A memory tickled at the back of his mind. His hands against her temples, the sound of static. He broke eye contact, shaking the image away. “No. Leave me.”
“They told me you…” She winced, her eyes flicking down to her arm. He didn’t loosen his grip. Kristen glanced around the half-full car and lowered her voice to a whisper even he could barely hear above the clacking of the train. “There was an accident, right? And someone was killed?”
“Accident? Is that what you think? Is that what your mysterious ‘they’ told you?” He laughed, unabashed. “Did ‘they’ tell you who I killed? What I did?”
She gave her head a pathetic little shake. For the first time she seemed to be realizing he wasn’t the sweet innocent Gabriel she’d known. The one eager to cater to her whims. A pissant. A little flare of rage ignited inside him. No. Control.
He let go of her arm, held his hands out, marveling over them. “She struggled for her life, even though she should already have been dead. I didn’t even choke her.” He whispered, his hands tightening into fists. “Just held her under until the last bubbles broke from her lungs. Not a mark on her.”
She stared at him in silence, sad doe eyes. He wondered what sound they would make when he plucked them from her pretty head. “You need to leave.” Gabe shuddered. “Now.”
Her voice barely reached him. “You’re not capable of murdering someone, Gabriel. I know you.”
“Apparently not so well. I lied to you about it for months, and you never had a clue. You think I don’t know why you’re really here?” His fingers stiffened, cold. So cold. He had to get rid of her before it was too late. “You still want to let me inside your head?” He ran a finger against her temple. “Do you know how easy it would be to break you?”
She looked numb. “I’m already broken. You fix me.”
“Oh you sweet nothing,” he murmured. “I’m begging you. Leave before I do something.”
“You haven’t yet. You won’t. I trust you.”
He fought for control, thought he heard her call his name. Their eyes met. The connection took. The ice let loose, rolling through him.
Her mind spiraled open, coming undone in delicate tendrils. They drifted around him, through him. So many thin lines, knitting and knotting and choking out her sanity. Her gaze was dead, brown eyes unblinking. He had to make sure she didn’t come back, knew there was no saving him.
He dug deep, not healing, stumbled across what had seemed white patches in the static, ones he couldn’t see into when he was Bound. He’d been hoping for something he could use against her.
He couldn’t have dreamed of better.
“I helped you and you were fucking around with Luke?” He sounded more vicious than he expected, wondered for a brief moment if there was actual feeling behind the words. “You used me to fix yourself and when I wasn’t at your beck and call, you went to the one bastard I tried to keep you safe from.”
A sob shuddered through her, but no tears fell. “It was a mistake. I ended it a year ago.”
“Then how did you find me here, Kristen?” He leaned closer and she flinched.
“I…”
Do it. Cast her away. Permanently. “I murdered Eden and I wasn’t even Fallen.”
“What?” she whispered. One word, brimming over with enough pain to keep him stable, give him time to save her.
“Imagine what I’m capable of now,” he continued. “Get out of my sight. If I see you again, I won’t hold back.”
The train shuddered into the station. Kristen stood, locked eyes with him as she staggered backward, out onto the platform, her head shaking slowly. And then she was gone.
Gabe doubled over on the seat, dropping against the cold metal wall of the car. Sweat broke across his brow. For a moment he thought he’d get sick from the loss and guilt rolling over hi
m. Not his. No, they had to have been remnants left behind by Kristen.
The only thing he could do to help her was to send her away. He’d done it. Held his ground. Didn’t hurt her. Pride swelled inside him until he remembered the look in her eyes.
The pain.
“Doesn’t matter,” he assured himself. The important thing was that she was okay, holding her own. Still strong.
CHAPTER 18
Sullivan hadn’t said much. They walked fast, covering the ground between her hotel and the apartment in fifteen minutes. He kept wanting to ask her if she was all right, but it seemed sort of stupid. She’d almost jumped off a building.
He glanced down at her, trying to think of something to say, and settled for putting his arm around her. For a second she tensed and he thought she’d shrug it off, but she didn’t. He could feel her shaking, even through his thick coat.
A two-block straight shot and they’d be at the apartment. He’d been cautious, taken a few extra turns when he’d noticed a guy walking their same way for more than a block, not wanting to ask her what Vaughn looked like and scare her. Definitely not wanting to run into the Bound, but unsure what any of them looked like. The Fallen hadn’t bothered them since the roof, minus the few boxes that had come for Eden.
No one seemed to have followed them.
He glanced at Sullivan again, watching her face. He’d seen glints of things in her last night, determination and adventurousness that he envied. The Touch had brought them out, but if she didn’t kick the habit, it would also be what killed them off. She’d been so close to going over the edge last night. What if he hadn’t woken up?
She looked up and caught him staring. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, cold enough to break the mood.
“Like what?”
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