“Don’t die!” He yanked the gloves off, no longer caring about passing her Touch. His hands fluttered over her cheeks, her hair and finally grabbed her hand, the fingers slick in his. He met her eyes, didn’t look away even as life faded from her, her eyelids falling to half-mast.
“Sullivan,” he whispered. He shifted her onto his lap, pulled her against him. In the dark night, the snow fell. Jarrod dropped his face against her chest, his cheek coated in the sticky gore that covered them both. Far off, he heard Luke laughing in the empty park.
Jarrod felt nothing. The sun was rising. His hand was frozen in hers somewhere under the foot of new fallen snow, deep enough that it had hidden the blood. His breaths were slow, even. A shadow crossed in front of him, but Jarrod didn’t look up. Let them find him—angel, mortal, Sider. He didn’t care.
The shadow moved again. No one was yelling, no frantic phone calls to the police.
“Don’t touch her,” Jarrod said.
“I won’t.”
Jarrod raised his head slowly, his neck creaking. “Gabe,” he said. Jarrod stared down at Sullivan’s face, the only part of her he’d kept free of snow. “Luke. Luke, he…we were walking and he came out of nowhere and he...”
Gabe gripped his shoulder. “Jarrod, you have to let go of her, okay?”
He shook his head fiercely. “No. She’s…I just…”
“It’s been hours, Jarrod. I brought a blanket, and we’re going to wrap her in it and I’m going to carry her for you. We’re going to take care of her together, okay?”
Gabe knelt and began to brush the snow away.
“I said don’t touch her,” Jarrod snapped twisting away from him.
“We need to get her warm.” Gabe moved down to uncover her legs. “Before she wakes up.”
Jarrod’s mouth opened, his breath stalling. “Wakes up?” he finally forced out.
Gabe nodded.
“No, that’s impossible.” Jarrod threw the snow off her, his fingers finding her neck, the skin there firm beneath his hands. He turned back to Gabe. “How?”
“Touch.” Gabe dropped beside them, the snow blooming red where his knees pressed into the frozen layer of blood. “She did too much. It ate away her path.”
Pathless. But that would mean… Jarrod gave a half cry and grabbed for Sullivan’s hand. “Is she one of us?”
The fingers in his squeezed.
Sullivan took a breath.
Chapter 1
Everything hurt.
Eden clenched her teeth as the ache in her gut sharpened to a knifepoint. One more minute, she promised herself as the pains worsened. She grabbed the edge of her closet door and used it to keep herself standing.
A week ago, Az had found out the reason she was sick was that she wasn’t taking out Siders. That without using her strange ability to kill the Siders and absorb their Touch, she would turn to ash. And now Az is gone, she thought. And you’re still crumbling from the inside out.
A stubborn tear dripped down her cheek and hung from her chin. When it dropped and soaked into her sleeve, the ring of gray residue left behind proved to her how badly she needed to take out a Sider.
Her whole body seized with pain. “It’ll stop,” she croaked, knowing the worst part was coming. She wrung the bottom of her shirt, fighting not to cry out. The ache spread. A few seconds and it’ll be—
Gone. Eden let loose a sigh so full of relief it trailed off into a whimper. Exhaustion and fading adrenaline buzzed through her brain.
After a few moments, she figured this bout was over. On wobbling legs, she moved around the nightstand and parted the thick curtains hanging in front of her window. From what she could see, the alley to Milton’s was nearly impassible with drifts of ice and snow. They hadn’t been going out to the coffee shop anyway, since Jarrod had quit his job there. With both the Bound and the Fallen angels after them now, a job was too dangerous. Yet every day they stayed in their apartment, the danger still grew. The Bound would find them. Slaughter them, if they could. They had to move—she, Jarrod, and Sullivan had to run.
“Soon. Today,” Eden promised, just as she had yesterday. Her exhale clouded the glass.
She smeared the fog as she spun away. Things will seem better after coffee, she thought, heading out of her room toward the kitchen. At least coffee would warm her bones, help her think. Halfway across the living room, she heard a soft tap from the apartment door.
Eden stopped dead.
They’re already here, she thought. It’s too late. She stared at the door.
The hallway stayed silent. Great, now I’m hearing things. Even as she moved again toward the kitchen, three gentle taps sounded from the door. Eden changed direction, creeping closer. Obviously, whoever was knocking had gotten in the building’s security door. The weak chain lock and dead bolt on their own door were enough to keep out a mortal looking for Touch, or a Sider searching for Eden, but if it was an angel out there…. She thought about calling for Jarrod, but then whoever was outside would hear her.
As she took a step toward Jarrod’s room, a voice called. “Eden. It’s Gabriel.”
Eden sagged. The last time she’d seen Gabriel, he’d shown up cradling a blood-soaked and blue-lipped Sullivan, set her down on the couch, and left without a word. A week ago. His appearance had been how she’d known that Az was really gone. Since that night, there hadn’t been a word from him. And Az would never be allowed to come back to her.
It took a few seconds before she collected herself enough to click the dead bolt. She undid the chain and swung open the door. Beyond it, Gabriel shifted uncomfortably, staring at his shoes. Part of her was surprised to find it really was him out there. Snow had melted into a puddle around him, enough that she wondered how long he’d been out there before he knocked. Had he been waiting to sense her thoughts leaving her bedroom?
His hazel eyes, dead and dull, skirted over her face before dropping again to the floor. With his head dipped forward, the hood of his jacket obscured his blond curls and his high cheekbones. There was no disarming smile to set her at ease. She missed the old Gabe.
Gabriel teased the edge of the puddle with his shoe, spreading it across the worn concrete floor. His gaze lifted and slipped slowly over her shoulder to the living room beyond. “Is Jarrod here?” he asked.
Eden blinked in surprise. “Is Jarrod here? That’s all you can think of to say?”
“I—” His voice broke.
Eden hesitated, for the first time wondering if it was guilt that had kept him away, and what had brought him now. It was Gabe who’d taken her life. Gabe who now stood before her, Bound again. And the Bound were her enemies. Her palms grew slick. It’s Gabe, her brain insisted. Still, she couldn’t help the urge to back away from him.
His irises darkened from hazel to blood red. “Not all of us want to be your enemy, Eden,” he said, his voice cold. “I am begging you not to make this harder on me than it needs to be.”
A flush—embarrassment more than anger—burned her cheeks. Whether he meant to or not, he’d read her mind and heard the truth.
Shame wrenched his voice into something hollow and haunted. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I try to stay out, but you can’t help what you feel and I can’t help hearing the broadcast.”
She couldn’t stop concentrating on his hands. The same hands that had held her under the waves. She had no memory of her actual death, though it wasn’t easy to shake away the gruesome imaginings. “It’s . . . okay,” she offered.
“No, it’s not.” Gabriel subtly moved his hands behind his back. “Pathless or not, I took your life. I made a terrible error in judgment.”
She stared at him. His words sounded like a recording, something memorized and spat back.
“Can I come in?” he asked. Only when she nodded did Gabriel slink past her into the apartment, as if it was holy ground and he didn’t belong. He stopped in the middle of the room, his back to her. “I’m so sorry about Az.”
The words hit her li
ke a sucker punch. “Some of your things are still here,” she said instead of responding. “I’m holding onto his until—well—if you want yours. . . .” She knew how silly it sounded, like Az would come back from Upstairs to claim a few pairs of jeans and some shirts.
As long as Gabriel had been Fallen, and she tied to him, the Siders Eden took out would have ended up Downstairs. Thinking that meant Luke would gain followers, she’d stopped sending Siders on. That’s when she’d gotten sick. To save her, Az had done what he’d once considered unthinkable—used his wings to go back Upstairs, become Bound again to clear Gabriel’s name. Now they knew more. The Siders Eden sent on weren’t harmless. They were a poison, and now saving herself meant unleashing a plague Upstairs. Everything Az sacrificed had been for nothing. All she had left were his things. His sweatshirt smelled like him, crisp and clean and a little like the air when snow was about to fall.
Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. “Eden.”
“It’s worse, you know,” she said quietly as she shut the door. “Than when I thought he was dead.” She stared at the back of Gabriel’s puffy parka. The hood dropped from his head. “We were supposed to be together and now he’s just missing. And there’s this hole, and I can’t seem to . . .I don’t. . . . ” She trailed off, locking her arms around herself. “I need him.” She didn’t care how stupid it sounded. “Tell me where to find him. How to get to him.”
“I can’t.”
“You have seen him, though?” She steeled herself. Now that he was Bound again, Gabe couldn’t lie. There’d be no sugarcoating. “Is he okay?”
Gabe flexed his fingers and then unzipped his jacket, glancing back at her before he sat on the couch. His cautiousness set her even further on edge.
“I’ll tell you what I can. It won’t be much.”
Once she’d sat down in the armchair, he began.
“Michael convinced the council of angels that time was of the essence, that they needed to hear Az’s testimony immediately because I was in danger of becoming unredeemable.” His tone didn’t change, stayed monotone and dead.
Eden had met Michael only once. The terrifying Bound angel had treated her like she was repulsive. He hadn’t treated Az any better.
“Az told them that you didn’t have a path, so you weren’t on record. That you weren’t mortal when I took your life. He told them I had been investigating the Siders and planned on reporting everything I knew.” Gabe fell silent, running his hands through his curls. “It was enough,” he said.
“I’m proud of him,” Eden said, surprised by the lack of bitterness in her voice. “He did the right thing.”
Gabe shrugged a shoulder. “Once they accepted his testimony, they brought me back Upstairs. When it was time for him to become one of us again, he. . . He’s not Bound.”
“What does that mean? He Fell?” Az wouldn’t stay away, she thought. Not by choice. The words stole her breath; her hands started to tremble. “Where is he now?”
He’s gone, she thought, and I didn’t know. “Did they—” she got out before everything inside her broke. Did they kill him? She couldn’t get the words past her lips, but with Gabriel, there was no need.
Gabe looked stricken. “No! Oh, sweetheart, it’s not that.”
She slumped, her sigh choking off in a cough. Concern filled Gabriel’s eyes.
Swiping the tears on her face, she snuck a look at her palm as she dropped it to her lap. The center was gray-black with ashes, her fingers inky. “Keep going,” she said. “Please.”
“He came Upstairs willingly,” Gabriel continued, “so they know he had true intent. They’re sure it’s only a matter of time before he gives in and agrees to become Bound again. They will wait.” His irises burned in turbulent swirls of color. “He’s in a cell.”
“You’re not just going to leave him there,” she said in disbelief. “Can you get to him?”
“I can’t, Eden.” His voice shook.
Gabe wanted her to know. Why? Why had he come to tell her this when he hadn’t shown his face until now?
You can’t help Az, she thought, but I can. Is that what you want, Gabe?
He winced as if tasting something terrible, and she knew he’d wanted to lie. Gabriel had grown used to being Fallen.
She got to her feet and strode across the room to the door, the idea of how she could get Az back beginning to take shape. She had to get down to the alley.
“Why the alley?” Gabriel asked as she yanked on one of her boots and zipped it up her calf. “What are you going to do? Your thoughts are scattered."
“Oh, come on, Gabe,” she snapped, pulling on the other boot. When she glanced up, Gabe was off the couch, circling around her. “If I can help Az, I’m doing it alone. There’s not a chance I’m bringing you down with me. Leave.”
At the demand, the air in the living room almost seemed to thicken. Gabriel’s shoulders pulled back, stiff with tension. “Look, you shouldn’t interfere with this,” he said. “It’s suicide!”
Eden smirked. “Not for me.”
I have the upper hand against the Bound, she realized. Siders she sent on stayed Siders, passing Touch Upstairs. It worked differently up there. Here, mortals were passed Touch and it only amped up what they were feeling, for good or bad. Upstairs—or Downstairs for that matter—once passed Touch the souls disappeared. Permanently.
Fine. If the Bound thought they could take Az, could hunt her friends, Eden would declare war. “They want to see what infecting their realms really looks like? I’ll show them.” She grabbed her coat as she opened the door, refusing to let her terror shake her resolve the way it shook her hands. “Tell them I’ll stop when they let Az go.”
“Eden, they already want you most of all. You can’t act against them,” Gabe said. “I can’t allow it.”
Clenching her jaw, she forced away the fear she knew must be so obvious to him before she turned back. “Luckily, I’m not asking your permission.”
“I’ll hurt you if I have to,” Gabriel said as he grabbed her arm. She looked down at his hand in surprise, pain radiating from the already forming bruise. “Step away from the door. Back toward the couch,” he commanded. Any resemblance to the gentle Gabe she remembered dissolved. “Now where the hell,” he said quietly, “is Jarrod?”
Chapter 2
Stretched out beside Sullivan, Jarrod couldn’t help the way his pulse skyrocketed as she sighed softly in her sleep and leaned into him. There was something different about having a girl fall asleep on his chest, head tucked against his shoulder, an arm draped across his stomach. Maybe it was just something about Sullivan.
He hadn’t planned on liking her as much as he did, uncertain what was happening between them. The newness of it made things feel like they could crumble apart at any moment.
Two weeks ago, she’d shown up at Milton’s while he was working. She’d been mortal then and addicted to Touch. His stomach churned at the memory of the night Luke took her life, of her blood soaking Jarrod’s legs, the gush and gurgle of her last breaths and his disbelief when, hours later, she took another.
As if on cue, Sullivan’s eyelashes fluttered. “Hey,” she murmured, stretching against him. Jarrod felt the brush of skin in every nerve, his body humming for her.
He tangled his fingers in her hair, moved slowly to give her warning. She held her breath as his mouth hit hers. A pulse of Touch surged through him, slid back into her. Another, stronger one, raised the hair on the back of his neck. Each drove a spike of need deeper into him. Sullivan grabbed his shoulder, squeezing. Lungs bursting, he tore himself away with a delayed gasp. “Sorry,” he said as he leaned back, biting his lip.
“You okay?” she asked, searching for any sign that he wasn’t.
He wanted to keep going, knew they had to be careful. Because Luke had killed Sullivan, she was tied to him, the same way Eden was tied to Gabriel. If they slipped up, and Sullivan exhaled at the same time Jarrod inhaled, he would wind up Downstairs in a cage. It had put a seriou
s damper on their make-outs.
When he didn’t answer, she touched his shoulder. He leaned closer, his tongue pressed to the top of his mouth, blocking his airway just in case. Sullivan’s kiss was barely a peck. When she pulled away, he saw the fear in her eyes.
“We’ll figure this all out,” he promised.
Sullivan nodded, then seemed to reconsider. “Everything’s so different. I mean, between two weeks ago and now. . . .” she said.
“It gets easier. Passing Touch, dosing. All of it,” he said, trying not to let her see he was distracted.
Outside his closed door, he heard movement. For a second, he was almost sure he heard voices as Sullivan rolled away from him. “I meant you and me,” she said.
“Hey.” He took her face in his hands. “We’ll figure that out, too,” he said before his attention turned back to the sounds coming from the living room.
A cry from Eden.
It’s the Bound, he thought. They found us. Jarrod vaulted up and over Sullivan. I knew I heard something! he chastised himself. I let my guard down. She’s in trouble.
The springs of the mattress creaked as Sullivan sat up. Jarrod turned to her, one finger over his lips for silence, the other pointing to the clothes she’d discarded last night. She moved to get dressed without questioning. He put his ear close to the keyhole. It took every ounce of resistance not to bolt through the door. He concentrated on any clues about how many were out there, if it was really the Bound, and then he recognized the voice yelling over Eden’s.
“What the hell?” Jarrod said as he swung the door open. Gabriel.
Gabriel, who’d found him and Sullivan in the park the night she’d been killed. Gabriel, who had gotten them back to the apartment. Who’d spied on Downstairs so that Madeline had known how to save Eden.
Gabriel, who now had Eden by the wrist.
“Bullshit I can’t leave!” she seethed. “If they won’t give him back to me, I’ll infect Upstairs with every Sider I can find!”
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