A Touch Mortal

Chapter 31





The sound stole into her room through the keyhole. She’d shoved an old T-shirt under the door, trying to block it out, but still Eden could hear the moaning. It seemed to come from everywhere.

The groan crescendoed into a scream. She turned up her stereo, pumping Dresden Dolls at top volume.

Eden had forgotten the look on Adam’s face when he’d told her about the Screamers. At Kristen’s she’d been kept separated from the rest of the Siders. She hadn’t seen a Screamer until the day she’d left, and then, only for the few moments it took to free them with her breath. Now she understood why Adam had been so unnerved. Libby was in agony.

The lyrics flooded Eden’s ears, her eyes closed, fingers tightening into fists on the bedspread. But behind her eyelids, all she could imagine was Jarrod, there by Libby’s side. He hadn’t left her for a moment the last three days.

She could picture his face; hearing the music pounding through her wall and hating her for it, for trying to block out what she’d chosen to put the three of them through.

Eden snapped the song off mid-chorus. Libby’s scream picked up where it’d been drowned out, wavering before the room beside hers went silent again.

Sighing, Eden opened her bedroom door. Adam lay on the couch, a pillow pressed around his head.

Things had gotten strange between them the last few days. She’d caught herself noticing the shadow that brought out the angles of his normally shaved jaw.

She plopped down on his stomach, felt the muscles tightening, his breath escaping in a sharp oof. He sat up, lifting his head over the edge of the couch to make sure the door to Jarrod’s room was still closed. Satisfied the coast was clear, he curled an arm around her. Whatever was happening, he’d stuck to their agreement that it wasn’t common knowledge. For that, Eden was grateful.

“How are you holding up?” she asked. Adam shrugged. Studying his face, she saw lines in his brow that hadn’t been there even the day before.

“Rough,” Adam whispered, not bothering to sugar-coat. At least that was one thing she could count on. “This helps,” he added, tightening his arm around her. She leaned against his chest, telling herself it was only in the interest of helping.

“You’re not affected at all?” he asked, some wistful tone behind the words. His voice strained. She looked up at him, and he put a finger to the corner of her eyelid, lifting it. “They’re so blue, Eden,” he whispered, leaning closer. “And cold…” She felt the shift as the Touch took hold, saw his own eyes glaze over. “Heartless…nothing for me in them.”

She tried to sit up, but his arm tightened, pinning her to him like a strap.

“Nothing there. There’s nothing,” he whispered to himself.

“Adam, no.”

He started to rock, his finger still holding her eyelid open. “We’re all going to die. They’re coming for you and we’re all going to die. But not with you. Alone. We’re all alone.” She felt a shiver deep inside as she twisted her head, squeezing her eyes shut, breaking the connection.

“Kristen. The night I called Kristen,” she said suddenly, leaning up to whisper in his ear, pressing her cheek against his. The clammy chill made her nauseous. “Remember it?” she asked, feeling a flutter of eyelashes as he closed his eyes, concentrating. “You said, ‘Try to say it now.’ Can you see it, Adam? Do you remember?” She felt him nod, the stubble of his cheek prickling. “You said, ‘Try to say it now.’ You said, ‘Tell me there’s nothing here.’ What did I say, Adam?” she asked, pulling away when his arm went limp. She took his face in her hands, watching his eyes, the deep burning brown.

“I can’t…” he mumbled.

“What did I say, Adam?” He blinked, a tear slipping from each eye, racing for his jaw.

“You didn’t say anything.” He opened his eyes again, focusing on her. “You didn’t say anything because you couldn’t.” The realization hit him, the Touch fading back into the background. “You couldn’t,” he repeated, the words coming out a heavy sigh as he leaned against her shivering. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around both of them.

She tried to keep herself from going rigid, the confession that she hadn’t been able to face before now leaving her vulnerable. There was something there. Something between them.

“Better?” she asked. He nodded, holding her close, his embrace tender again.

“I want to check on Jarrod and Libby. Will you be okay?” she asked, trying to shake away the image of violence. He nodded and she stood, helping him lie back down and tucking the blanket around him.

Walking across the room, she cast one last glance to Adam. What she felt wasn’t the raging fire it had been with Az. More of a slow burn, growing larger with each day that passed. Enough to warm her insides, but not consume her. Maybe that’s what love is supposed to be like? she thought. Her stomach fluttered as she knocked quietly on the door. There was a grunt from inside and she opened it slowly, preparing herself.

Jarrod was on the bed. Libby’s head was in his lap, her eyes closed. Her hair was free for the first time since Eden had known her, draped around her in a greasy tangled halo. Around her face, the strands clung to her wet skin.

Jarrod dipped a washcloth in a pot of water next to him, running it slowly across her forehead. Libby grimaced as the cloth slid down her cheek, across her neck.

“She looks better than I expected,” Eden said quietly, careful not to break the thin hold sleep had claimed.

“The first time is always the worst. But she’s strong. She’s holding her own.” He looked up at Eden and she saw the shadows there, darkness behind his gaze. He closed his eyes, wincing.

Eden moved to sit beside him but he held up a hand. “Just give me a minute,” he whispered. A tremor passed through him, Libby’s hair shuddering across the sweat-dampened pillow under her. Jarrod took two impossibly deep breaths, and whatever had threatened to take over was gone.

“I didn’t know how hard it would be for me to resist. My head’s all messed up. I don’t know what to believe. Adam told me what he heard through the walls when he lived at Kristen’s, but I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

“It’s been a few days. Shouldn’t be much longer. If you need to stop, I’ll understand,” she said, but he shook his head.

“I got this.” And there it was in his voice. That reassurance she’d been dying to hear from either of them.

Reaching over, he took up the washcloth again.

“You’re doing good, Jarrod,” she said, hoping the praise would help him, but meaning it just the same. He was coming through for her.

“Hey!” he said, stopping her at the door. “I’m sorry. About pushing you. Maybe we could talk about it, make things cool again?”

She wanted to say it back, but it would only lead to them talking about the Siders on the stairs again. Now wasn’t the time to be calling attention to anything that volatile. Eden nodded.

Adam was sitting up when she returned to him, what happened five minutes ago forgotten.

She reached over to the chair, picking up her coat from where she’d left it yesterday for the brief minutes she’d left the apartment.

“That time again?”

Eden pulled the jacket around her. “I need to get all I can.”



It was over in seconds. Eden rolled her shoulders, snapping a crick from her neck. Despite the uncomfortable ache in her bones from the Touch she’d absorbed from the four Siders on the stairs, she was determined to savor her few minutes away from the apartment.

She kept a cautious lookout as she made her way through the alley, exited, and crossed the street. The strong coffee smell greeted her as she entered Milton’s. Behind the counter, Zach leaned down to get her tray.

“Just for me today,” she said, stopping him.

He separated her cup from the others and set it on the counter. As he slid the tray off into the garbage, she heard a crackle of papers, a rush of liquid set free, the lids popping off when they hit. “Sorry for the waste.”

“No prob.” He shrugged and pointedly shifted his attention past her, off to where the booths were. “Not with the coffee.”

“What’s up?” she asked, stiffening. She hadn’t been paying attention. Now that she was, Zach looked damn near skittish.

“Two o’clock. Middle booth,” he said, his voice low as he picked up the bills she’d laid on the counter. He avoided her eyes, avoided looking at her at all as he punched buttons on the register. “Been waiting for you about an hour.”

Eden fought the urge to turn. Dark hair, a dress in anything but black, would be Kristen. Madeline would be easy enough with her fiery bun of red hair.

“Description?” she asked. She let out a fake laugh, pretending it was just a genial exchange of pleasantries with the local barista.

“Dude,” he said, and Eden mentally crossed off most of the list in surprise. “Early twenties. Knew what I was right away.”

“Sider?” she asked. Slowly Zach shook his head. Her heart hammered. She had no idea what any of the Fallen looked like. She risked a glance. “Jesus,” she gasped.

“You okay?” On the other side of the counter, Zach slipped off his latex gloves. “You need backup?”

“No, just…I wasn’t expecting him,” she said, not bothering with the change on the counter when she turned. She made her way down the aisle to Gabe’s table. Forcing a breath, she slowed her steps.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit,” she said, crossing her arms when she got to the booth.

He twisted a rope of napkin around his fingers, the paper fuzzy and broken down. On the table were half a dozen others, already shredded.

He raised his head. The look in his eyes sapped her sarcasm.

“Gabe? What’s wrong?” Her heart quickened, a thought of Az in trouble worming into her mind unbidden. She jerked toward the window, searching the street before she could stop herself.

“He’s not here,” Gabe said. “Sit. We need to talk.”

“Is…did he Fall? That’s why you’re here.” The strength ran out of her legs. She dropped into the booth. “You came to tell me.”

His shook his head. “Az isn’t Fallen.”

“Damn it, Gabe. I thought something had happened.” She flopped against the back of the booth. She glanced away, not wanting Gabe to see the relief overwhelm her. The strength of the feeling unnerved her.

“I didn’t mean…” Deep lines furrowed his brow as he started over. “It upsets me that you blame Az for all of this. He’s upset you don’t answer his calls. He’s lost without you.”

Her worry had tempered her anger, but now she gave in, her voice oozing malice. “Oh, he’s lost? He’s upset? Gee, Gabe. Maybe that’s how I felt after finding out I was dead. You know? After you abandoned me at Goths R Us. Then again, I’m not really open to an apology.”

“Sorry wouldn’t be enough, anyway. It wouldn’t even be a start,” he said, each word pained and slow. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Eden set her coffee down. “How exactly did you expect it to go? I take my time killing myself instead of being pushed into it and ignore the fact that you did nothing to stop it?”

“You’re right,” he murmured, as if in a trance. “I should have warned you. Not—” He jerked his head up suddenly, sucking a deep breath. “I can’t say…please understand. It’s fine as long as it’s never spoken.”

“As long as what is never spoken?!” She shot him eyes full of hate. “I don’t remember the beach after you left. What happened on the beach, Gabe?” she insisted.

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his, playing with the dozen rings on her fingers. “You happened. Everything changed the night we met you.”

“Yeah,” she snapped. “Things are a bit different for me, too.”

“Az isn’t meant to be with mortals. No angel is. Every girl finds her way back to her path. They leave him.”

“I wouldn’t have left him,” she said defensively.

“It’d been so long since he’d been happy. And he loved you, Eden. Really loved you. I had to know when you’d leave, have a plan to get him through without a Fall. I tried to check your path. We thought the Siders were pathless only after they died. If you hadn’t been with him, if he hadn’t fallen in love with you, we never would have known they were pathless as mortals.”

She drummed her nails on the tabletop. “Wonderful. Glad to be of service. Why are you here, Gabriel? What do you want?”

He glanced up. “Kristen sent a few of her Screamers your way. She gave me their names first. After they…had contact with you, I took a trip Upstairs.” She tilted her head, waiting for him to finish, her anger arrested. “They were there, Eden.”

“What do you mean they were there? Upstairs?” She scoffed. “Don’t be stupid, Gabe. They’re suicides. They can’t…”

He glanced around, lowering his voice. “Eden, sins or not, Siders shouldn’t be there at all. Mortals follow a path for a reason. We thought Siders were immortal because there’s nowhere for them to go. You put them back on the grid, Eden.” He raised his head, staring at her for a long second.

Her fingers stilled. A rebellious smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “So I give them a path?”

“This isn’t a good thing.” Gabe sounded exasperated. He reached across the table to entwine his hands in hers, squeezing them tight before she pulled away. “You’re putting souls where they don’t belong. There’ll be consequences when Upstairs finds out.”

“You haven’t told them yet?”

He glanced back out the window. “I didn’t count on being so…involved.”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Somehow she didn’t see Gabe coming out of this with a slap on the wrist. She tensed. “You said it out loud. Don’t they know now?”

“Luckily for the Bound, Upstairs is on a ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ kind of system. For us, sins need to be spoken. Punishment for lesser infractions needs proof. But every secret seems to burn its way out eventually.” He crossed his arms, drawing into himself as something about the thought exhausted him. “You’ve gotta be careful. You’re already being watched, sought out. And not just by us.”

“It’s a little late for a warning, isn’t it?” Her voice had taken on a hard edge. “Pretty f*cking unsubtle. But if killing James—”

“What do you mean killing James? When?” Gabe’s face paled. “How?”

“Yesterday,” she said, caught off guard. “The Fallen.” She paused. “Right?”

“It’s important that you listen to me, Eden, even if you hate me, just listen, okay?” She nodded, his panic seeping into her. “The Fallen can’t kill Siders. Even if the Bound did know about the Siders, they shouldn’t be able to either. You need to stop drawing attention until I figure out what can.” He shifted, climbing out of the booth. Eden followed his lead.

“You have to call Az,” he said. “You know how he feels about you. He’ll protect you better than anyone else could. And if something happens to me, he’ll need you to get him through without a Fall.”

Her head started a slow shake, building until she finally met his eyes. “No. He’s not my responsibility. I’m over him.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “Don’t be so stubborn! This is your excuse to call him. Use those feminine wiles to get back what you need”—he cast a quick glance at the door and stepped away from her—“instead of luring in boys who will never measure up. I trust you, and I trust you’re smart enough to swallow your pride and do what’s best. They’ll protect you for now, but soon I’m afraid it won’t be enough.” He was looking over her shoulder.

Eden turned, following his gaze. Adam stood near the door, kicking the snow off his boots as he scanned the room, searching for her.

Gabe grabbed her close again. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate. I’ll be in touch, okay?” He made his way through the maze of low tables and couches. Adam watched him cross the room. Gabe kept his eyes down as he passed. Walking out the door and down the sidewalk, he didn’t look back.

“Who was that?” Adam asked, jerking his chin toward the door.

“No one you need to worry about,” she answered, spinning around to throw an arm around his neck. Pulling him close, she kissed him deep and hard. He groaned as a bit of her Touch passed into him, but she only pressed harder, stealing it back. F*ck Gabe, she thought. Az had his chance.