A Touch Mortal

Chapter 29





“She has got to be kidding.” Eden shook her head. Spikes of black metal formed a gate before her.

Wedging a boot into the horizontal bar welded halfway up the spears, she threw her leg over and cast a quick glance around as she scaled down the other side. Still alone.

The grounds of the cemetery sprawled farther than Eden could see. Plots, mausoleums, great statues of angels reaching for the heavens alongside those fallen in mourning. For a moment, a vision of Az and Gabe came to mind, carving a hollow ache before she could banish it. She concentrated on finding Kristen.

Eden considered her options. Kristen called her “raver from the West” on the phone. That made Kristen East by default.

Eden started walking.

The frigid air smelled almost metallic, but underneath she caught the scent of pressed flowers and clove, more memory than an actual fragrance. The smell of Kristen’s house. She’d know it anywhere.

She jumped at the sudden scrape of metal against stone. Get it together, Eden. You’re losing it. She cocked her ear, catching it again, and followed the sound to a mausoleum. The shattered lock dangled by its shackle. A yellow glow seeped from the edge of the partially open door. The carved marble above read wandir.

Four hundred acres and she’d only had to cover a quarter of a mile to find her. Kristen was playing nice tonight, the barb of curiosity hooked tight.

A candle sputtered as she entered the crypt, a plume of smoke wafting in her wake.

“‘And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor…’” Kristen pulled a lighter from her boot, flicked it to life, and relit the candle.

“Poe. How…melodramatic of you,” Eden said. “It’s good to see you, Kristen.”

The dress she wore had been longer at some point, the seam ragged where she’d sheared it off. Threads skittered across the pale skin above Kristen’s knees. It hung several sizes too big on her thin frame, but still managed to look right in all the places it should have been wrong. An antique belt of silver hugged her hips.

“Oh, Eden. Must we do the silly small talk? It’s not good for you to see me. It means you’re in some deep shit.” At her feet, the black silk that had shrouded the coffin lay crumpled on the cement. “Help me lift the lid,” Kristen commanded.

Eden tucked herself under the lip of the coffin, the wood drilling into her shoulder. “Shopping going well?” she grunted. With an added thrust from Kristen, the lid slammed open against ancient hinges. The fatigued metal cracked, and the lid banged against the floor. Eden cringed, glancing toward the door.

“Quite well, actually,” Kristen said, pushing up the velvet sleeves of her dress. “No one will bother us here. I’ve made sure of it.”

“What do you mean you’ve made sure of it?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised.” Kristen took up the pillar candle, illuminating the contents of the casket. “I know full well you don’t travel without your sad excuse for an entourage.” She turned when Eden stayed silent, studying her. “You are alone. How naïve of you.”

“You think so?” Eden asked, leaning against the crumbling mortar of the wall, hoping to look unfazed. “Maybe I’m just one for keeping my word.”

“Look at you! All business and attitude. Well done.” Kristen laughed, the sound echoing wickedly through the small chamber. “May I?” she asked, curtseying dramatically. As she dipped, she lifted the frayed fabric of her dress, kicking up a leg like a burlesque dancer. She balanced the heel of her black boot on the edge of the coffin’s platform. Above where the leather ended mid-calf, an exposed knee peeked out.

Eden pulled at the neckline of her thermal hoodie, revealing her collarbone. Both girls reached forward, sliding a finger across the other’s bare skin. Their glamours faded.

Eden held her fingers out, marveling at the pale gray-green patches of rot, the skin puckering, holes open to the bone. Maybe the rave had helped. Another few days, though, and her levels would be right back up.

Strips of flesh hung from Kristen’s arm as she pulled it back, the bone underneath still white.

“You’ve been storing,” Eden observed. “Or stealing. Gearing up to torture some Screamers, Kristen?”

She shook her head, tsking. “Don’t judge. It makes your face all twisty. Not a good look for you.”

“Your sick idea of punishment is none of my concern,” Eden said, her voice cold. “Besides, it’s not like I have anything to fear.”

“And aren’t you just a little ball of contradictions tonight?” Kristen shook her head, a wave of dark hair swooping behind her shoulders as her glamour slipped back into place. “You have nothing to fear, yet you’re here. There must be a reason. Ready to spill it, Eden? Or are we going to babble quips back and forth all night? Were your boys simply not satisfying your need for intelligent conversation?”

“Nothing to fear from you,” Eden corrected. “But…” She paused, watching in morbid fascination as Kristen leaned into the coffin, pulling a half dozen rings from the skeleton’s fingers. Trying them on her own, she tossed aside the ones that hadn’t struck her fancy. The castoffs clattered into the shadows. “James,” Eden said.

“The little blond one?” Kristen leaned into the coffin again as if it was a bargain bin. The old bones rattled as she shook the dress free of its previous owner. Her face lit up. “Purple!” she sang triumphantly, handing the dress to Eden. “I was so over the black thing this week too! How fortuitous!” She dove again, legs kicking up behind her as she dug deeper. Vaulting back onto the floor, her hands held up the prize, a flapper-style skullcap. How appropriate, Eden thought.

Dust dulled the strands swooping out from below the beaded fabric as Kristen adjusted the hat. She held her hand in front of the candle again, admiring her new rings for a moment before stripping one away and tossing it to Eden. Rubies glittered in the air.

Eden caught the jewelry, faintly repulsed as she slipped it over her knuckle. It clanked against the trio of silver bands already there, settling just below the joint of her middle finger. She held the hand up for Kristen to see.

“Approved,” Kristen said, nodding. “Death looks good on you.”

“Yeah,” Eden mumbled, the memory of James’s scattering ashes a fresh wound, slicing through the weak scab the day had formed. “Enough dress up,” she said, tucking her hand into her pocket. “We have business to attend to.”

“About the boy? You’re just angry you didn’t get to use your voodoo breath on him.”

Eden clenched her jaw. She tossed the dress over her shoulder, freeing her hands.

Kristen only smiled. “Quell the rage, lovey. Tell me what happened to James.”

Eden gave her an abridged version of how they’d found him. “Last I heard, I was the only one killing Siders. That is, unless you have news you conveniently forgot to pass along?” she finished.

“Eden,” Kristen chided, sounding hurt. “Do you know how rare it is for me to find someone I consider an equal? In another life we might have been at the mall together, glaring at those bitches who take up all the tables in the food court and never f*cking eat. As it is, you seem to have enough on your plate.”

“You know something,” Eden accused.

“There’ve been rumblings lately with your name in them. Not the territories. I think everyone’s pretty well settled for now. But you have an enemy.” Kristen stared at her for a long moment.

“The Fallen?” Eden asked, losing patience. She yanked the dress from where it hung over her shoulder, balling the material.

Finally Kristen spoke, her voice solemn. “‘And devils also came out of many, crying out—’”

“Don’t have time for this, Kristen,” Eden interrupted, giving away her frustration. “Was it the Fallen or not?” Tapping a finger against her cheek, Kristen waited for Eden’s response over the wood she leaned her elbows on. “Who? Tennyson? Yeats? I have no clue.”

Kristen twirled a lock of brown around her finger, her gems dancing in the candlelight. “Actually, it’s from the Bible.”

“Who’s the enemy, Kristen?”

“Of course it’s the Fallen. Who else would it be?” She reached into her boot and slid out a clove cigarette as she got to her feet. Sauntering across the room, she lit it on the candle flame before returning to Eden. She slid down the wall, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “You and I have our alliance. We share information, help each other when necessary. Such things aren’t just arranged between Siders,” she said slowly. “You know how close I am to Gabriel. Rumor is, Madeline has chosen not to follow my shining example after all. And Madeline was tiring of lost numbers due to your…gift. Perhaps she finally grew frustrated enough to tattle on you.”

Eden’s eyes widened. “Madeline told the Fallen where to find me.” Kristen nodded. “You never told me the Fallen can kill Siders.”

Kristen shrugged, but Eden caught the uneasiness in her eyes. “It’s news to me if they can. Have you spoken to him about what’s going on?” she asked, not needing to say the name.

Eden winced. “Why would I?”

“I saw him,” Kristen said carefully, gauging Eden’s reaction. “This would be a few weeks ago. Shall I continue?” Eden nodded, her head feeling full and slow. Even a passing mention of Az and her whole world seemed to shift off its axis. “At first I thought he was one of the living, huddled down in a doorway against the cold the way he was. I was going to give him Touch. But then he lifted his head and I saw those eyes.” Kristen took a hit, exhaling a cloud.

“Go on,” Eden whispered.

“He looks like shit, Eden. I didn’t even recognize him. He’s going through some sort of Goth phase. All those beautiful curls straightened and dyed black.” She paused, ashing into a silver vase that might once have held flowers.

Eden couldn’t picture this new version of him, so far from the soft brown curls and clear blue eyes. The Az she had known.

“And how’s Gabe?” Eden tried to keep her voice neutral, but it came out strained, cracking.

“He’s checking in on you,” Kristen said. “They both are.”

Eden looked up in surprise. “You’re wrong,” she said.

Kristen nodded slowly, drawing out the details in that excruciating way she had of speaking, her flair for the dramatic coloring her speech. “I could be. But I was standing there, looking into those crystal blues of his, and there was a sudden urge to update Az on the latest gossip. And most of what popped into my head was Eden-centric. Not exactly my favorite topic. You can imagine my shock.” She snubbed out what was left of the clove, the sweet smoke drifting, lingering. “Listen, I understand your burning hatred of all things angelic, but I’m not who you should have come to. You know that.”

Kristen snatched the purple atrocity from Eden as she passed, heading for the exit.

“Can I count on our alliance?” Eden asked, following her out through the door. “If it’s needed, of course.”

Kristen spun on her with a snort of disbelief. “Against the Fallen? Not a chance. Our agreement concerned only Sider issues. You understand.”

Before them, the path forked. “If you hear anything…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Kristen said. “Eden, were I you, I’d make sure my crew was ready. Blame Madeline, blame me if need be, but have them store Touch. They’ll need it to heal. Most likely, they’ll need it to help you heal, because if Downstairs gets a hold of you…” Kristen trailed off, staring up into the cloudless sky, the stars, as if hoping to catch sight of something beyond them. “If the Fallen are sniffing around, this is bound to be more than a passing storm.”