A Touch Morbid

by Leah Clifford

  She wasn’t a stranger.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” He shot a quick glance up. Parking lot. Full. He stood between two cars parked nose first against a brick wall, the boy on the ground in front of him. The girl blocked his escape. He fought the urge to knock her aside and flee.

  “My, my, lover!” Her eyes dropped to the curled body at his feet. No, it wasn’t a body; the boy was still breathing. Barely. “I let you out of my sight for two minutes.” She clucked her tongue, disapprovingly.

  Gabe grabbed the hood of a car to steady himself. Everything blurred, the strength running out of his legs. “I’m not your lover.”

  “Good,” she purred. “That’s a good start, Gabe. So who am I?”

  He lifted his head, shaking it, his eyes squinted in uncertainty. “I don’t… I don’t know.” A name clicked across his brain, but it wasn’t hers. “Az?” His voice came out high and pleading. “Is Az here?”

  She shook her head slowly, her eyes full of pity. “Let’s talk about the Sider, Gabe. What did he say? He made you angry.”

  He spun, gravel grinding under his boots, staring down at the boy. He opened his mouth to say there was nothing, but then a ghost of a hazy memory drifted to him. “He came here because it’s where they always come to sell.” He winced. “Touch. He was selling Touch. The mortals. They’re getting addicted?” He looked up at her for confirmation.

  She nodded approvingly. “More, Gabe. We know those things. You were Downstairs, checking on their paths. Do you remember if you found any of the mortals’ paths, Gabe?” A note of desperation crept into her voice, though he knew she didn’t want him to hear it. She needed to know what was happening to the mortals who were addicted. Needed him to find out.

  “Their paths, they’re … broken … and I couldn’t find them sometimes. I couldn’t stay long enough.” His voice fell to a whisper as he began to remember more. “In and out. You always say in and out. I had to hurry.”

  The scent of sulfur overwhelmed him. He gagged, dry heaving, and dropped his elbows to his knees. Flashes of memories crowded his head. “Downstairs. The Siders were all in cages.” The girl moved closer, put a hand on his back to comfort him. “Don’t.” He brushed her away. “You shouldn’t be so trusting. I’m Fallen, Madeline.”

  He shot straight. Madeline. She was a Sider. He had known her Before, almost as long as Kristen. When he was different, when everything was so different. A mix of sorrow and terror brought tears to his eyes, everything flooding into him at once.

  “Please. Please, I want to go Home.” His cry was sudden, ripped through him.

  Madeline blinked hard. “When you knew you were going to Fall, that you weren’t going to be able to resist much longer, you wrote me a letter. Do you remember? You told me the things you couldn’t say out loud.”

  They were coming to him, fast and clear. He nodded.

  “You told me that if you were going to Fall, you wanted to help us figure out what was going on, that I should have you go Downstairs. Spy.”

  Gabe gasped, her words calling up bits of memory. “Luke tricked the Siders. He has them in cages, and they can’t pass Touch. They’re going mad! All of them except… One. She’s sick, though. Something’s wrong with her.” He shook his head, trying to focus. “She’s falling apart.” His head snapped up. “Eden. My God, you have to tell Az it’s going to happen to Eden!”

  “You told me about this, Gabe.” Madeline squeezed his hand. “I’m trying to help Eden. I promise.”

  “It’s so hard to concentrate.” Gabe felt like he was being ripped in two. Dark thoughts bubbled below his consciousness. Pressure building like a steam valve. “Cold,” he whispered.

  Madeline skidded back from him, suddenly cautious, digging in her pocket. “Give me just a second,” she said as she pulled out a small orange bottle. She uncapped it and shook out the contents. “We’re out of time. Here.”

  She held out her hand, palm up. In the center rested a tiny white tablet. “Put it under your tongue.”

  “You’re drugging me?” His confusion lasted only a second. “You’re the one giving me the blackouts?” She dares cross you? Rage crackled through him.

  He slid closer to her, around her, until she was the one cornered against the bricks. Doesn’t she realize what a helpless thing she is?

  “Gabe, take the pill!”

  He could smell the sudden fear on her skin, in the air. It fed his need, urged him on. He crept nearer. “You think I’m your puppet? That I’ll do your bidding?”

  She turned her face from him, wincing as he pressed her against the wall. “Gabe, stop. You had a note that brought you here. I wrote it.”

  His irritation blazed. He ached for her screams, to feel her struggle against him. She didn’t react, held perfectly still. Why wasn’t she fighting? He walked his fingers slowly across her throat, the tips sliding over the side of her neck. Squeeze.

  “And before that, there was a note you wrote,” she said, her voice quivering. Her pulse jackhammered under his thumb. “It told you to remember what Az said.” He felt a twinge of hesitation but ignored it, curled his hand around her neck. “What did Az say?” she screamed.

  “‘Trust only Madeline.’” The words left his lips instantly.

  Gabe froze. A memory lurched to the surface, his hand aching as he scrawled the words over and over, imbedding them in his mind while he was still Bound. He would be too dangerous to be near Az, and Eden would be with Az. Kristen would be devastated, angry. But Madeline could be trusted. She’d gleaned enough experience through Luke to know how to work the Fallen. Never run when they see you as prey. Words he’d written in the letter.

  He realized his hand was still on Madeline’s neck and dropped it, embarrassed.

  She shuddered in a relieved breath. “‘Trust Madeline.’” She held out her hand again. “And I am Madeline. And I’m telling you to take this. Now.” She pinched the tablet between her fingertips, gave it to him. “Under your tongue, Gabe. You have to trust me.”

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head, the color starting to return to her cheeks. “I don’t know. But they’re from you. They came with the letter. You said you used to be able to catch thoughts when you were Bound. You didn’t know if the Fallen could, too, and we can’t let them find out what you’re looking for. The pill fades you in and out so you don’t remember me. Don’t remember being Downstairs. What you’ve learned.”

  He stared down at the pill.

  “It also helps keep you from being violent, Gabe. Please take it.” She swallowed. “You didn’t used to want to hurt anyone. Don’t you feel that way still? Even a little?”

  “No,” he managed. But he wanted to. He lifted his tongue, nestled the pill underneath. Bitterness flooded his mouth, and he winced.

  “It tastes terrible but dissolves almost instantly.” She edged past him, leery, as they walked out from between the cars. “Which means it works fast.” He looked back, at the boy he’d been choking. “He’s a Sider,” she said. “Better that you hurt him than a mortal. He’ll heal in a few hours.”

  “How long have we been doing this? What am I looking for?” he asked, following her.

  “Originally you were supposed to gather whatever info you could, but then you started talking about Luke holding the Siders captive. We started hearing about mortals being addicted, so you’ve been looking into what happens with their paths. I only get pieces from you. It’s not ideal, but it’s what we have.” She pulled her coat tighter around her.

  “Madeline…”

  She held up, trusting him enough to wait for him to catch up and stand beside her.

  “How are they? Az? Eden?” Even their names shot a pang through him.

  She paused as if debating telling him, and he knew it wouldn’t be good. “Az is struggling,” she said finally. “I’m worried about him. Especially if you’re right about what’s happening to Eden.”

  “What’s happening to Eden?” he asked.

/>   She laughed, the sound breaking across the parking lot like shattered glass, though her lips hadn’t moved. No, he realized. Someone had thrown a bottle. His brain felt numb, confused.

  “She’s being stubborn.” Madeline’s voice was strange, echoing and distant.

  Everything blurred, dim and unsteady. Fingers wrapped around bars. Dirty blond hair. Ashes. So many ashes. He blinked and felt leather against his cheek, a seat. The hum of tires. He moaned and raised his head.

  A hand at his waist helped him along. He stumbled up a set of stairs.

  “Almost there,” Madeline soothed him. “You’re home, Gabe.”

  Blackness.

  CHAPTER 23

  The leather of the couch creaked under Kristen as she shifted and opened her eyes. She felt strange, alert, and clearheaded. The typical moment of confusion between sleep and consciousness, when she realized she wasn’t in her own bed, never came. She knew exactly where she was. Truth be told, she felt better rested than she had in a month. Perhaps because every second was no longer a battle to hold herself together, to pretend she was all right. She stretched, swallowing. Her throat felt raw and dry.

  She could see her phone on the coffee table, on silent but the screen aglow with missed messages. Reaching out, she snapped it up as quietly as she could. Her heart sank. Fifteen texts from Sebastian.

  “Damn it,” she whispered. Her anxiety flared back full force. She held the phone in her hand, her fingers paused above the keys. What to say? My apologies for worrying you. I felt it best to take a few days by myself. Please attend to everyone as you see fit.

  She hit Send, wondering how he’d react. It was the first time she’d done anything like this, taken off and left him in complete control. What if he thought she was in danger, came looking for her? Shame rolled through her.

  “I had no choice,” she murmured.

  “You keep saying that.” She startled. Luke stood behind her. “Last night, you were talking in your sleep. Begging for forgiveness.” He ran a hand through his curls, rubbed an eye sleepily. “It was rather pathetic, to be honest.”

  “Almost as pathetic as you creeping close enough to hear me.” She threw the blanket off and then paused. When she’d fallen asleep, there’d been nothing over her.

  Luke ran a hand on the back of his neck. “You were screaming, Kristen. I barely slept.”

  “I’m sure I wasn’t screaming,” she snapped, but the hoarseness of her throat betrayed her. Her voice softened with embarrassment. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Luke strolled into the kitchen. “Now how much sense would it make to shut you up when you were spilling so many lovely secrets?”

  Kristen’s heart stalled. “Such as?”

  He glanced over the island counter and caught sight of her face. “Gibberish, mostly. Apparently you keep your secrets even in your sleep.” He grabbed a Tupperware container full of cereal down from the cabinet. “I know you don’t have to eat, but would you join me for breakfast?”

  She wanted to tell him no, to stride out the door and never see him again. For the first time she wondered if Luke had planned all along to give her the information she needed to find Gabriel. Because after seeing him on the train, the cruelty in his eyes, she knew there was nothing she could do for him. That at least for the time being, Luke was the only one she could turn to.

  “That would be fine.” Leaning against a wall in the kitchen, she rubbed her arms. She shivered without the warmth of the comforter. “Is it always so cold in here?” she asked.

  He glanced around the room, surprised, and then shrugged. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I guess it’s not cold to me. We can turn up the heat if you’d like, but I doubt it’ll do much good.”

  The wording gave Kristen pause. “Why wouldn’t it do any good?”

  “It’s an older building. The penthouse has a wonderful view of the city, but it’s drafty.” Luke took two bowls from the cabinet, spoons from a drawer. “I’d say I’m surprised you didn’t notice the other times you were here but things were a bit … hotter … then.”

  He winked before going back to pouring the cereal into bowls.

  “Is that Lucky Charms?” Kristen didn’t hide her amusement.

  He rolled his eyes. “My one weakness, aside from you.”

  “Laying it on a bit thick, no?” She grabbed one bowl and poured in milk while shaking her head. “Big, bad Lucifer eating marshmallow cereal. That just makes my morning.”

  He spooned a mouthful, chewing thoughtfully. “If it really takes so little to make you happy, my surprise will short-circuit you.”

  Kristen’s spoon froze midway to her mouth, her hackles raising. “What do you mean? What surprise?”

  Luke looked pleased with himself as he dug into the bowl again. “It’s in my room.”

  “Do girls fall for that?” Kristen asked, unamused.

  He met her eyes with a knowing grin that made her despise herself for asking. “You did once,” he reminded her. He laughed when she huffed. “Oh, relax. I said it’s in the room, not under the covers.”

  She abandoned her bowl on the counter. Halfway down the hall, she glanced back at Luke, but he only shooed her forward. The door was open, the room beyond it immaculately clean. Luke kept the room stripped of everything but the essentials, and looking like it’d been taken directly from an edgy decorating magazine. Maroon walls, white accents, the bed with its elegantly spindled headboard and black sheets. She didn’t want to think of the other girls he’d no doubt brought there.

  “I don’t see anything,” Kristen said.

  She walked all the way into the room. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirrored double doors of the closet. The wild eyes that always greeted her in the mirror at home were not the ones looking back at her from Luke’s mirrors. These eyes were focused and a bit amused. The smile faded from Kristen’s face and the reflection stared back, solemn. Her dress was wrinkled, but for being slept in, wasn’t bad. Her hair was still the typical unruly mess.

  “‘While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies,’” Kristen murmured to herself. She finger combed it into submission.

  “‘My happiness,’” Luke said from behind her, coming closer, “‘bites the plum of your mouth.’”

  Kristen raised an eyebrow. “You know Neruda?”

  Instead of answering, he let his fingers slip across her collarbones, through the shallow cleft between them, down, lingering. Luke met her eyes in the mirror. “‘I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.’”

  She groaned as a blush broke across her face. “What, pollinate them?”

  “No,” Luke said, and tripped the switch that slid the mirror to the side and opened the walk-in closet. “Drape them in beauty.”

  Her breath caught. Gowns, sundresses, cocktail dresses, velvets and lace, some flowing, some tight, every color of the rainbow. She ran her fingers over dress after dress, astounded. With effort, she forced the wonder from her voice. “You think I can be bought with pretty things?”

  Luke chuffed in disbelief before she turned her attention back to the dresses. “You’re a black hole of a girl, Kristen,” he snapped.

  “And to think,” she said. “Most guys would have kept on with the poetry.”

  “Most guys aren’t worthy of you. I am. And you are worthy of me. You see my gifts for what they are. You’re a challenge.” He twisted her to face him. “I won’t insult you with bribery again.”

  Her exasperated sigh brimmed with enough sarcasm to be sure he caught it. “I’m keeping the dresses,” she said, and a laugh burst out of him.

  One of his hands slid from her shoulder, down her waist to her hip. He curled it around her back and dipped her as if they were slow dancing. She fell back, trusting his strong grip to hold her without thinking. When he tightened his arm to bring her up again, she found herself pressed against him, staring into his eyes.

  His tongue slid slowly across his lips. “My little black hole,” he sa
id, leaning his head nearer to her. “Pulling me in.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Eden bolted up, a scream halfway up her throat before she cut it off. Someone grabbed her hand. She yanked away, couldn’t see anything in the dark, frantically fumbling on the nightstand trying to find the lamp.

  “Hey, it’s okay! It’s me!” Az said as she clicked on the light. He yanked her thick drapes open, letting in the morning light.

  She sucked air in, trying to catch her breath, get her bearings. Having Az beside her was enough to slow her heart, take the edge off her panic.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and fell back, raising the covers up and curling into a ball.

  “Nightmare?” he asked. She didn’t answer. “It sounded like a bad one. I heard you from the couch.”

  He dropped his hand onto her shoulder. The blanket shifted as she unwrapped herself, reaching behind her for his hand. “Don’t leave, okay? Please?”

  She pulled his arm around her. His fingers twisted around hers as he curled close.

  “What was it about?” he asked. She pulled his hand to her stomach.

  “I thought it was snowing.” She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue still felt dry and gritty, like it’d been in the dream. “We were on the roof again and… I thought it was snowing, but it was ashes. Everywhere. And then they had you.” Her breath hitched, and she felt his lips press against her shoulder. “The Fallen. The Bound. Both of them. They were fighting over you.” She squeezed his hand. He’s here, she thought. He’s okay. The unease clung to her anyway. “And you were… God, I don’t think I’ll ever get the sound out of my head.” She couldn’t say it.

  “What sound, Eden?”

  She fought to keep the tears from spilling over. “The way you screamed when they ripped you apart. And I tried to scream, too, but nothing came out. Only ashes.”