The Siders Box Set

by Leah Clifford

  “Stop!” she sobbed. Warmth spilled down her side.

  “Brief pain, then nothing,” he said as if to console her.

  “Gabriel will speak for me!” Blinking away tears, she grabbed for his wrist. “I’m his friend. Tell Gabe. I fixed everything,” she said. I’m mortal now.

  The hands on her froze, and she let her own fall away. They’d bring Gabe to her and he’d make the pain stop and it would be okay.

  Where’s Luke? she thought. He’d save her. She’d make a deal with him. Anything he wanted.

  “You dare ask Gabriel to speak against his own kind while you stay loyal to Lucifer?” She tried to lift her head, but the angel pressed down on her shoulder. “You’d brand Gabriel a traitor to lure him back to darkness? It will never be.”

  He shoved her hard. The back of Madeline’s head cracked against the wood stair. Her vision swam as the Bound angel drew back a hand.

  “Please,” she said.

  His fist plunged down.

  Chapter 15

  Gabriel walked down the street alone. He’d tried to ride the subway, hoping the constant swaying of the cars would settle him. But once he’d gone through the turnstile, dark thoughts from when he’d been Fallen surfaced, fragmented and out of focus. He couldn’t explain the cold sweat he’d gotten from standing on the platform. Before the train even pulled into the station, he decided to walk.

  He couldn’t bear to stay with the other Bound, knowing the Sider in the prisonlike room was there because of him. Gabe had heard screams, tried to tune them out, but what his ears had blocked out, his conscience kept loud.

  Don’t break, he’d begged Zach without saying a word. Don’t tell them where Eden is, if you know. When they finally decided Zach had given them all he knew, Gabe had taken off.

  He looked up to find he’d walked almost twelve avenue blocks and wound up in front of Milton’s. A sheet of plywood covered a window. The door was locked, the establishment closed. He rested his forehead against the iron gate over it for a beat and looked through the glass of the door. Inside, the tables had been tossed around, and a dark splotch of dried blood stained the entryway. Gabe turned away.

  He crossed the street and headed through the alley, drawing out his walk to Eden’s. Checking the apartment without her there to report back to the Bound should take some pressure off. Yet, even though it wasn’t a lie, he felt like a liar. The faint taste of sulfur hadn’t left him in almost a day.

  When he came out of the alley, a girl looked down at him from above. She’d sprawled out halfway up by the time he made it around the side of the stairs.

  “You a Sider?” He said it without thinking.

  “You need Touch?” she asked. Gabe hesitated only a second before nodding.

  Her braids bounced with each stair as she came down to meet him. “You pay me first, then I lose the protection,” she said, holding out a gloved hand. “Twenty. Unless you want to double up. That’s thirty.”

  Gabe reached into his pocket. “What is Touch exactly?” he said, without taking out the money. “How does it work?”

  She snapped her gum. “Magic.”

  “No, really,” he pressed.

  For the first time, the girl seemed to be sizing him up. She took a step back.

  “What’ll forty bucks get me?” he asked quickly, and just like he’d hoped, her eyes met his. The fear dropped away from her. Gabe eased closer. “There we go,” he whispered as the girl’s eyelids drooped, the connection taking. “Whose crew are you with?”

  “Madeline’s,” she slurred. A frown dug deep. “Madeline would want me to pass to you because you seem so sad.”

  Gabe flinched, almost broke eye contact, but stopped himself. “Were you on Touch before you became a Sider?” She didn’t answer. He gave the girl’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and forced himself to use the information she’d given him. “Did the Touch make you sad like me, and then you became a Sider?”

  “I was alive once,” she said. “I had so many things I wanted to do…. So many things and then it all kind of just…” She wiggled her gloved fingers in front of her and then splayed them. “Poof. And now there’s nothing. I have to get rid of Touch.” The vacant misery in her invaded him, gripped his bones like a parasite and dug in. He slammed his eyes shut, so unnerved he almost missed her whisper. “It has nowhere to go because I can’t use it.”

  Gabe snapped alert. “You can’t use it yourself,” he said. “All those things you were supposed to do . . .”

  On the stair, the girl seemed to be coming out from under the influence of his sway. “It’s twenty bucks for a dose,” she said, an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there seconds before.

  “Forget it,” Gabe said distractedly, tossing the cash he had in his pocket to her anyway. “Take this and get out of here. Don’t come back, understand?”

  “Hey!” she called after him, but he didn’t turn back.

  Mortals’ paths led them from one event to the next, their whole lives planned in branches of choices. And without paths, the Siders seemed paused. “And all that potential has to go somewhere,” Gabe said to himself. “That’s what Touch is.”

  A thought sparked in his mind. The Siders Eden had sent Upstairs had gone on passing Touch, passing potential to souls that shouldn’t have had any. The souls Upstairs then disappeared. They’re not disappearing, though, he realized. They’re reincarnating.

  “Holy shit,” he blurted.

  A disgusted sound just behind him broke through his stupor. “Such unbecoming language,” Raphael admonished.

  Gabriel stared at him, face blank. He saw me let the girl go, Gabe thought. I’m screwed. “Please, let me explain,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”

  “And what do I think?” Raphael asked. “What should I think? That you’re not acting like one of us? That you’re releasing Siders instead of ending them? An offense punishable, Gabriel.”

  Fear lanced through Gabe. He was so close to figuring it all out. Could feel it. “No. Don’t turn me in. Please,” he said, grabbing for Raphael.

  “There are others who have given up on you, Gabriel, but I refuse. Perhaps to a fault.” Gabe shook his head as if to reassure him, but Raphael went on. “You must end the death breather, Gabriel. The time has come.”

  I can’t.

  “You can,” Raphael said. “She’ll be weak when you get to her.”

  Gabe froze. “What did you do?”

  “Her injuries will be enough that she won’t escape you again.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Panic sped through him. They were hurting Eden, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist his promise with her weakened. But from what he’d seen at her apartment, even bruises had the potential to kill her. “Tell me where she is,” he demanded. When Raphael didn’t answer, Gabe took him by the shoulders. “I’ll be Damned if I don’t get to her in time.”

  Raphael nodded sadly. “Indeed you will. And that choice is yours, Gabriel. Choose wisely.”

  “I will! I will! Tell me where she is,” he begged. When Raphael rattled off the location, Gabriel’s heart sank. He’d never been to the alley Raphael named, so he couldn’t travel there instantly. Gabe drew up a mental map of lower Manhattan, searching for the closest place.

  The abandoned building. Eden was only a few blocks from where the Bound gathered.

  What the hell is she doing there? he thought, but it didn’t matter. From the building to that alley would be a two-minute run. I can save her.

  If I make it in time.

  Chapter 16

  Az didn’t look up when someone knocked on the door of his cell. Instead, his hand went under his thigh. Tucked there were the crumbled pieces of three keys. Though each was stronger than the last, the metal had still broken apart when he’d tried them in the lock.

  “You come to gloat? To tell me she’s dead?” he asked. “Or did Gabriel Fall?”

  “I’ve come to talk,” Michael said through the small barred window. “I’ve b
een made aware of certain theories you harbor.”

  The comments were vague. If any of the Bound were seriously debating Gabriel’s intentions, they weren’t speaking it aloud any more than necessary. Az didn’t look up. Though the connection couldn’t take unless he wanted it to, he wouldn’t be trapped by Michael a second time.

  “He has the strength to end her,” Michael said.

  “He’ll never forgive himself if he does.”

  “A fact which unfortunately bears more credence,” he said finally. “I do not wish Gabriel lost to me again. Not when I can save him pain. If he’s prevented from killing her until she dies on her own . . .”

  Careful to keep his expression empty, Az lifted his head. Michael gripped the bars of the window. Blood coated his fingers, ran in smears up his wrists.

  “What have you done?” Az whispered.

  “The Siders are being exterminated. Your death breather can’t go on without them,” Michael said.

  She’s still alive, Az thought. The blood on Michael’s hands proved others hadn’t been so lucky.

  “Death comes no matter what foolish sacrifices are made in her name. You would truly relinquish glory for the temporary pleasure of her, Azazel?”

  “She’s smart. She’ll escape. Survive.” Az didn’t waver. He met Michael’s gaze. “And she’s never been temporary to me.”

  Michael rotated his head slowly to the side, studying Az.

  “Just like Gabriel’s never been temporary to you,” Az said. The slight flinch from Michael was all he needed. Az stood. “He will never be the same after. You know it as much as I do. Don’t make Gabriel do this.”

  Michael’s grip tightened on the bars. “Yesterday, we snared a Sider who knew your precious death breather. Plucked thoughts of her from his head like grapes. We learned much before we gave him his peace.”

  “Who was it?” Az asked shakily. Jarrod’s face swam into his thoughts. It could have been anyone.

  “He made her beverages and gave her shelter. She and her two Siders hide within his walls. We’ll use her sickness to draw her out. Inexistence creeps nearer to her every moment.”

  Zach, Az realized. His shoulders slumped. The Bound had been at Milton’s. I’ll destroy them if they lay a finger on her. “If anyone ends Eden but Gabe—”

  “I tell you of what we know,” Michael said, cutting him off. “So that you may take my words to heart. Gabriel stays in the mortal realms for you, Azazel. He feels duty bound keep you from Falling fully.” Michael lowered his voice to a whisper. “Yet your death breather held you balanced while Gabriel was blackmarked, did it not? You don’t need him. I want him returned to glory.” Michael’s eyes danced with his fervor. “What is your love worth?” he said with a sneer. “You seek freedom; you desire your Eden? Then cut loose the ties binding Gabriel to the mortal realms.” He dropped his hands. “If you wish a chance to save her, the price is Gabriel. Is she worth it to you?”

  Az ran a hand through his curls. “I…”

  Rust red swirled in Michael’s irises. He stepped farther back into the hall as if he didn’t want Az to see. “How can you hesitate?” Michael pressed. “Choose to save her and give me back my Gabriel.”

  A tremor passed through Az. It felt like a trick. “What about what Gabe wants?”

  Michael went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “She’ll be attacked. Weakened. Once he’s close to her in that state, Gabriel won’t be able to resist the compulsion.”

  Az knew his irises must be crimson at the rage inside him. Let him see, he thought, but Michael showed no reaction. “Why are you doing this?”

  “They’re already luring her, Azazel. Moments until she sheds blood.”

  Az’s wings flared. Feathers scraped against the walls as they spread to fill the room. “Open the door, Michael,” he said.

  “A promise Upstairs is binding, even if you’re not Bound.”

  With a single pump of his wings, Az was across the room. He slammed his fists against the metal. “Open the door!”

  “You’re to convince Gabriel to return Home permanently,” Michael went on, urgency in his voice. “Swear it, Azazel, and freedom is yours. Stay silent, and she’ll be ash in moments.”

  “Gabriel will leave the mortal realms,” Az said, cautious. Curling his fingers around the bars, Az made his choice. “He’ll come back Upstairs. Permanently. You have my promise or my life.”

  Michael dug for a key as he spoke. “The rest of the Bound are slaughtering the Siders at a soiree in the Bronx,” he said. He held up a bloodstained hand. “Gabriel is too late to save them, but you can use the information to send him away. Break his compulsion long enough for you to escape with your death breather.”

  “It’s done? They killed the Siders there?” Az asked, his heart in his throat. “Kristen’s dead?”

  Michael looked nonplussed as the lock clicked. “Such an effort to tell them apart. The genocide is in progress.”

  He swung the door open.

  “How fast can those wings carry you, Azazel? Faster than fate?” Michael asked.

  A thousand curses rushed to his lips, but there wasn’t time. Az rushed past Michael and into the hall.

  From just behind him, he heard Michael’s whisper, a single word. “Fly.”

  Chapter 17

  The phone call had caught Eden off guard. She’d been expecting Madeline. But it was a Sider on the other end, one who’d sounded ragged and desperate, too scared to come to them. He’d given her somewhere to meet, an alley off a street in the Financial District. A short subway ride away.

  Every corner they came around, Jarrod stopped her and Sullivan, insisting on checking ahead. If the Bound spotted them, no amount of running would help this time.

  “Clear,” he said, keeping a few yards in front of them. They took a side street, then another before heading down the alley. The Sider had told her it hooked right in an L shape. He would meet them there. Halfway down, a single light shone to guide their way. Rats scurried without fear. The patters of their feet against plastic trash bags set Eden’s skin crawling.

  “Let’s hurry,” she said to Jarrod.

  Eden glanced back at Sullivan and noticed her clutching her stomach. When she realized Eden was watching, she dropped her hand and gave her head the slightest shake, a silent plea in her eyes.

  A good twenty feet in front of them, Jarrod looked back as he went around the corner. Eden waited until he was definitely out of earshot before she spun on Sullivan.

  “How long?” Eden demanded. She grabbed Sullivan’s hand and twisted it over, but even in the creases, the palms were free of ashes.

  “It’s just a stomachache. So far.” Sullivan’s skin looked clammy, almost green. She hissed through clenched teeth.

  “What’s it feel like? Stabbing?” Eden asked. She glanced down the alley to be sure Jarrod hadn’t ventured back. “How long, Sullivan?”

  “Yesterday, I promise. That’s it.”

  Eden squeezed her shoulder gently. She knew all too well the agony Sullivan was going through. “It’ll pass. Give it a second.”

  Hugging her stomach, Sullivan doubled over. “I have to tell him,” she whispered. “I just don’t know how.”

  “Don’t panic.” Eden rubbed Sullivan’s palm again. “We’ll tell him after we’re done here. You’ve got at least a few days, though. The pains won’t get much worse unless you’re injured.”

  A crunch of footsteps echoed through the alley. Two figures passed under the dim light ahead of them, but neither was Jarrod.

  Sullivan straightened. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Eden said. Something was wrong. She spotted a fist-sized chunk of asphalt against the wall. Toeing it, she said Sullivan’s name and drew her attention to it. Eden shuffled forward until the broken asphalt was behind her.

  “Eden?” Sullivan’s whisper was cautious.

  Eden had been alone in the alley at the apartment nearly every day, brought Siders she didn’t know into it for m
onths without feeling any danger. Staring at the guys creeping toward her, something insider her shifted. They’re not Bound, she thought. But are they Fallen?

  The two guys stopped just in front of Eden and Sullivan. Eden met their steely gazes and one of them sneered, skin crinkling around predatory eyes. The reaction wasn’t what she was used to. Usually the Siders who found her seemed grateful, or afraid, or desperate. On the phone, his voice had broken.

  She waited, but neither said a word. She fought the urge to avert her eyes, knowing it would make her look weaker.

  One of the guys was tall and reeked of trouble, from his baggy jeans to the tattoos decorating the visible skin of his neck and knuckles. A cliché street thug. The other was younger and looked naïve enough to seem out of place. Almost timid.

  Until he opened his mouth. “So you’re the little girl with the good shit? They say you’re picky about who you give it to.”

  Eden froze.

  “You’re not gonna be picky with me, are you?” he asked.

  They weren’t Siders. Or angels. They were junkies, the way Sullivan used to be. Eden curled her hands into fists and shoved them into her pockets, grateful for her gloves. She couldn’t afford to give up any Touch. In her peripheral vision, she saw Sullivan bend down to pick up the asphalt, hiding it behind her back.

  Eden shrugged her shoulders, trying to keep the attention on her. “You mislead me on the phone.”

  The tattooed one laughed, but the younger one silenced him with a punch to the shoulder.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to keep her voice even and nonchalant. “We’re not selling. It’s not—”

  The younger one leaped at her.

  “Jarrod!” Sullivan screamed.

  Fingers dug into Eden’s cheeks.

  “Give me the fucking Touch,” he snarled. Droplets of spit dotted her face. “I was told exactly where to find you. I don’t have time for your games, bitch!”

  “I don’t have any to give.” She tasted blood as his grip ground the inside of her cheek against her teeth.