A Touch Mortal

Chapter 32





She heard the screams through the door. Bloodcurdling, murderous screams, and for a second her hand froze and she couldn’t turn the knob. But then some part of her brain snapped back into place and she was inside, throwing open Jarrod’s door, Adam at her back.

Libby’s back was arched, Jarrod pushing down on each of her shoulders and still she was bucking off the mattress.

“Eden! Help me!” he screamed.

She ran, swinging herself around the edge of the bed by the post on the footboard and grabbed hold of the handcuffs already snapped around the strong metal rungs of the headboard. Jarrod grunted as he forced Libby’s arm up. Eden snapped the cuff around Libby’s wrist.

“You bitch!” Libby screamed, her hair streaming loose, flying as she thrashed back and forth. Eden ignored her, climbed over to help Adam force the second wrist up to where she could hook Libby’s other arm.

Eden yelped as the cuff locked, a jolt of pain bursting from her thigh. Libby’s teeth sunk deeper as Jarrod reached down, squeezing the sides of her clamped jaw until it was forced open.

“F*ck,” Eden groaned, limping to the doorway, rubbing the skin. The leather of her pants held a perfect dented impression of Libby’s teeth around the hole they’d torn clean through.

Adam backed slowly from the writhing prisoner, as if he expected her to rip the cuffs off and come at them.

“Let me see,” Adam said, dropping to get a better look at the wound. An angry tear settled into the corner of Eden’s eye. “She got you good,” he said, gingerly laying his fingertips against the edges of the hole in her ruined pants.

“Leave it. It’s nothing. When did she get like this?” Eden asked in disbelief.

“Ten minutes ago,” Jarrod said from the other side of the room, hovering close but out of range of Libby’s kicks. “Came out of nowhere.”

“I’ll f*cking kill all of you!” Libby screamed, wrenching her head back and forth, slamming her shoulder into the headboard, trying to break the bed apart. Jarrod picked a pillow up off the floor and slid it in, buffering her attack on the bed. Suddenly the evilness dropped out of her voice as her eyes found Eden. “Please let me go,” she sobbed. “I have to get rid of it! Don’t you understand how much it hurts?” The last few words were almost unrecognizable, her voice breaking into heaving gasps.

Jarrod’s eyes widened as her focus switched to him. “You’re just going to stand there and do nothing? They’re killing me, Jarrod. They’re killing us both, the two of them,” she cried, locking eyes on him. Jarrod’s face crumbled as he looked up at Eden, unsure.

“If it doesn’t get better in an hour, she’s gonna have to pass,” Eden said, hating herself just the same.

“Jarrod…,” Libby’s singsong call sounded out. She batted her eyelashes, streaks of mascara running down her blotchy face. “They’re against you, you know. Look at them, Jarrod. Don’t her lips look a little red? Like she’s been kissing him?” Libby threw her head back, cackling. With her hands in the cuffs, pulled up on either side of her, she looked like some demonic marionette. Suddenly her head snapped up and she froze, whispering, eyes lolling up to Jarrod. “If she blushes, you know I’m right!” She kicked her heels into the mattress with glee. Jarrod could do nothing but stare, mouth agape like the rest of them. “F*cking look at her, Jarrod!” she commanded.

And he did. As he turned, Eden felt the heat start, trace up her neck and then deepen as Libby let out another round of kicks and gibberish. Jarrod’s head cocked, watching Eden. Her head slowly started to shake a denial, but then she felt Adam’s hand on her shoulder.

“I toooooold you!” Libby shrieked.

“Shut up, Libby,” Jarrod said, his voice monotone. He pushed past them, not bothering to close the door. “Adam’s been after her forever. She was bound to give in sometime.”

On the bed, Libby’s head dropped as if someone had suddenly switched her off.

“Watch out for the green vomit,” Adam whispered. “Was I the only one waiting for her head to spin?”

“Not funny,” Eden said, pushing past him.

She came up behind Jarrod where he stood at the window. “We were going to tell you. This just happened. Like, minutes ago.” He sighed hard, turning on her.

“Would you f*cking get over yourself? You think I care what you and him do? I’m worried about her, Eden!”

“Oh,” she said, taking a step back. She watched him carefully, not sure if he’d given in to Touch or just gotten upset at Libby’s outburst. If the difference mattered.

“James wasn’t like this when he stopped spreading. Ever. I didn’t expect…” He paused as they both turned at the sound of footsteps. Adam slunk into Eden’s room, closing the door behind him to give them some privacy. “I just didn’t expect that,” Jarrod finished. “That was f*cked…up.”

“Yeah,” Eden said, but couldn’t find any follow-up words. No encouragement to offer. Maybe I should end this, she thought. Take off on my own. The Fallen would have to track her down, leave the others alone.

“She just turned on us,” he said, confusion in his voice. “It was like she wanted us fighting.”

“No, that wasn’t her, Jarrod.”

“It was some part of her,” he whispered.

“No. She probably picked up on me and Adam, and the Touch just twisted it,” she said. “That’s all it was. You can’t hold it against her. It’s only going to make it worse for you if you’re upset.”

He turned back to the window. She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Let it go, Jarrod.”

He nodded. She gave him a second, but when he didn’t say anything, she crossed the room to her own door, opening it.

Adam was on the bed. His eyes opened when he heard the door, finding her shadow in the darkness the covered windows cast.

“So you think you can just wander into my room whenever you feel like it now?” she asked, crawling onto the bed.

He smiled, letting his eyes drift closed again, as she straddled him. “You kissed me. I figured I had some power.”

“I took it back,” she reminded him. For just a moment—half—there was that image, long hair gliding across Az’s strong chest and then it was gone. She ran her fingers across the bare nape of her neck, the short strands tickling across her pinky.

“That’s not the kind of power I was talking about,” Adam said. He reached up, pulling her down into his arms. His lips wandered a broken trail down her neck to her collarbone. It almost felt treasonous, how easily her head leaned back in welcome, when Jarrod was probably still at the window, worried Libby wouldn’t get better. But she couldn’t help the butterflies, the way her fingers curled against Adam’s back.

“Your phone,” he whispered. Light blinked into the room as the display lit up.

“Ignore it,” she mumbled, wishing she’d turned the damn thing off, but Adam had already glanced at the flashing glow as her cell rattled against the nightstand.

Pulling back to pick it up and hand it to her he said, “Can’t. It’s Kristen.”

Eden sat up, flipping the phone open. “Yeah?” she asked, trying to concentrate, her brain not doing so well with the sudden topic change.

Adam wasn’t helping. He leaned in, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and kissing the line of her jaw.

“‘Never again would birds’ song be the same. And to do that to birds was why she came.’” Kristen’s voice was full of wonder.

“Frost,” Eden said. For a long time, they were both silent. Eden pulled the phone from her ear, sure the call had been dropped, but the counter on its face ticked off each second. “It’s Robert Frost, right?”

“You’re sending Siders Upstairs? Do you have any idea of the damage this will cause?” Kristen started.

Eden drew a breath, held it as she tried to think of some snappy comeback. Anything. “Gabe told you.”

“Actually, no. I talked to your boy.” For a moment Eden wasn’t sure who she was talking about as Adam’s hand wound its way down her leg.

“Az?” she said, bolting up. On her thigh, Adam’s hand froze.

“Yes, Az!” Kristen yelled, for once agitated enough to skip the games. “He’s worried about you, Eden. You’re playing a dangerous game, and I won’t be a pawn. You need to talk to him.”

“Really, Kristen? You’ve demoted yourself to being a secretary?” And there it was; the sarcasm coming easy, but too late. She could hear the pause as Kristen rolled her eyes.

“I prefer the term ‘administrative assistant,’ if you must know. And if that’s what it takes, then yes.”

Eden pushed a fist into the mattress, adjusting to slide her legs underneath her. Pain shot through her leg, the fabric of her pants pressing down on the bite. Adam sat up, crossing his legs, his eyes downcast.

“I’m not interested in anything he has to offer, least of all protection,” she said through gritted teeth.

“No, Eden. He…” There was a rustle on the other end of the line, a murmur of another voice. “He says Gabe wasn’t going to tell you everything…”—a scratch as Kristen slid the phone into her palm. Eden pressed until her ear stung, trying to catch the exchange in the background. “He says he has to tell you about…”

She barely made out the whisper of an argument and then, “Eden?”

His voice there, and hesitant, and full of remorse. Everything stopped. Her heart stalled in the silence as he waited for her to answer.

She tossed the phone away. It fell to the bedspread, propped up against Adam’s knee.

“Eden? Are you there?” Az’s voice was distorted, drifting unwelcome into her room, just enough to hear the confusion when he said, “I think she hung up?” before the screen went dark.

“The boy from the picture,” Adam said, taking his hand from her leg. Eden nodded slowly, unable to look away from the blackened screen, the V shape of her phone. When Adam shifted, it flopped over.

“I hung up on him,” she said, as if it had been a test of loyalty. But there was a nagging behind it. She hadn’t. Az had hung up on her when she hadn’t answered.

“I don’t understand,” Adam said. “I thought he was from before?”

“He is,” Eden whispered.

“No.” Adam hesitated, trying to put the pieces together. “You said he was the reason you…”

“He is,” Eden repeated. “And he was.” She tore her eyes from the phone, focused on Adam.

“He knows you’re a Sider? Eden, but he’s a mortal!” Confusion and horror fought for control of his features. “How does he even remember you?”

“No.” Eden’s shoulders fell. She shouldn’t have listened to Adam, should have never answered the phone. “He’s not human.” When Adam didn’t say anything, she went on. “He’s not a Sider, either.” Suddenly she wanted to spill it all, to tell Adam everything. “He’s an angel.”

“Angel,” Adam said, his voice going deadpan. “You meant…like what, Eden? Like literally? Wings and halos?”

A sad sound somewhere between laughing and crying surged out of her. “No halo,” she said. “Not anymore.”

She watched his face. The first twitches across his forehead when he realized she wasn’t joking. A half breath as if he was going to speak and stopped himself.

“You don’t believe me,” she said finally.

“No.” He hesitated. “Angels don’t exist. It’s impossible. There is no God.” His hand twisted into the cuff of his jeans.

“Why would you think that? We exist. It’s not exactly a far stretch.”

He shook his head, his face full of uncertainty. “There should have been answers. Instead there’s just bullshit. There is no Heaven. There’s no Hell unless this is it. And if it is, no one bothered to tell me, which is f*cked up.”

She held his gaze. “Is that why you killed yourself, Adam? To find answers?”

For a long time Adam said nothing, only stared at her. His eyes shone in the dim light. “So what? You think that’s a stupid reason?” She didn’t expect the anger in his voice. “You killed yourself over a guy, which is even stupider.” She winced. Adam closed his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just…That’s so…not you,” he said, changing the subject. “And then the angel thing? You can’t expect me to believe you.”

Finally she whispered, “Just go, Adam.” She couldn’t keep the defeat out of her voice. Telling him anything had been stupid. “Get out.”

Somewhere in the darkness between the bed and the door she heard him breathe deep, once. Twice. Go, she thought.

“If he’s an angel, prove it.” He found his way back to her, sat down, and reached over to turn on the light. Eden cringed, the sudden brightness stinging her eyes.

“Why?” She knew she could. Gabe didn’t have wings, but he had other ways of convincing. Gabe might be pissed at first, but having Adam’s trust would be worth it. Hell, maybe Gabe’s anger, the changing color of his eyes, would be enough.

“Because I want you to be telling the truth,” he said.

“And you don’t think I am.” She sat up, putting her elbows on her knees, her chin dropping into her palms.

“Yeah, and that part kinda makes me an a*shole, doesn’t it?” He laughed, a ghost of his normal self creeping in.

She gave him a small smile. “A bit.”

“So, you gonna get me a feather or something? Maybe a bell off Santa’s sleigh while you’re at it?”

“You’ve already seen one,” she said.

“An angel? The Az guy? When?”

“Not him. The guy I was talking to in Milton’s. Gabriel’s one of them.” She laughed at the incredulous look he gave her as he remembered. “He blends, doesn’t he? He was best friends with Az. Best friends with me. Before…” Adam waited, watching her, but she couldn’t bring herself to go on.

“Is there some deal with you and him?” he asked carefully. Eden kept the smile.

“Trust me, you have nothing to worry about from Gabe. I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting,” she said. Her eyes wandered to the phone. She wouldn’t call Kristen now, not while she knew Az was there, but in a few hours it should be safe. Gabe owed her this much. Kristen might know where Eden could surprise him with a visit of her own.