A Touch Mortal

Chapter 42





Hours later, but before the black sky had begun to brighten to its normal grimy yellow, Eden slipped out of her room. Creeping into the living room, she passed a shrouded body under a blanket on the couch and the crown of Gabe’s curls snuggled into the pillow on the floor. She concentrated on her feet, avoiding every creak in the floorboards. A movement near the door startled her and she misstepped. Beneath her socks, the wood gave an angry pop.

“You’re up early.” Jarrod balanced on one foot, his hand thrown against the door as he slid a sneaker on.

“I’m not. I never slept.”

He tilted his head. “You okay?”

Eden shrugged. “Lot on my mind. I’m fine.”

Jarrod seemed to take her at her word. “I was gonna go for a walk. Get some air,” he whispered. He thrust his chin out toward the two sleeping forms. “They make it smell weird in here. Gives me a headache.”

She nodded. “Like snow or something.”

He stopped, staring at her. “Kind of, actually.”

She tucked her hands into the pocket at the front of her hoodie. Jarrod considered her for a second as he grabbed his jacket up from the floor.

“Wanna come?”



Once they were outside, Eden noticed the subtle difference. She took in the city air, the scents of exhaust and crisp steps and rushed caffeine. Jarrod had been right about the apartment. Outside, though, even beneath the city air, she could still smell Az on her. Eden shivered.

Jarrod kept his eyes down, kicked a tattered shred of newspaper. It caught on his shoe, slid and hung on the laces as if it wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. He used his other foot to scrape it free.

“So, you’re kinda screwed with the whole Adam and Az thing, huh?” There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his voice. Count on Jarrod to cut through, she thought. “You and Az have some pretty thick history.” It wasn’t a question.

“You could say that.”

“So where’s that leave Adam?”

Eden slowed her steps, but Jarrod matched them. Finally she said, “Better off than you’d think.” Jarrod nodded, as if her answer had made perfect sense.

“He’s my friend. But you need to do what’s right for you.” He stopped, his eyes drawing her in. “You know I’ve got your back no matter what happens with that, right?”

Eden didn’t answer.

Instead of heading toward Milton’s they took a left. Her eyes strayed to the doorway where they’d found James as they passed.

Empty. No crime scene tape, no flowers. Not for a death that hadn’t registered to the mortals.

They should have done something. Marked the spot. Later, maybe, they could come back. Put up some flowers or something. She glanced at Jarrod, wondering if he felt the same, but his face was twisted away. He couldn’t even look.

Eden toed at the frozen ground. She wished they had gone the other way, toward Milton’s. They walked on in silence.

She thought of things she should have been asking him, like what was going on with him and Libby, and if he was holding up against the Touch. For a second she even considered telling him what she suspected about Az. But that would require telling him how she’d found out.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally. She didn’t answer, because she wasn’t about to deny it. “How long are they staying? Until they think you’re safe, right?”

She nodded.

“They don’t think we can do the job, huh?” There was a heavy silence before he spoke. “What do you think?” he asked.

She was tempted to just shrug again, but forced herself to answer, to actually think about it herself. “I don’t know. The bad guys searching me out. The good guys swooping in to the rescue.” She flexed her bare fingers and thrust them into her pockets, twisted her hands against the lining. “Something doesn’t sit right with me.”

He waited, scratching a fingernail across his zipper. “You think Az and Gabe aren’t telling you everything?”

“Jarrod, every Sider who’s made it to our stairs had our address. You can’t tell me the Fallen wouldn’t have been able to find it out.”

Jarrod stopped. “Jesus. I never thought about that.”

She nodded, lost in thought. “I think the Fallen knew where I was the whole time. I don’t think they want me dead.” Jarrod’s eyes widened but she went on. “What if I didn’t kill myself? What if that’s why I’m different?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” He tucked his arms into the space next to his chest to keep them warm. They were almost around the block, heading back through the alley.

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

Jarrod stopped at the base of their stairs. “Eden, you wouldn’t have said anything if it was just a feeling. And that came out of nowhere. What’s going on? Adam said you don’t remember what happened when you died.”

“I remember some.” Eden sighed, zipping her jacket tight against her neck. She had only climbed one stair, barely opened her mouth when her ring tone sounded. The number didn’t look familiar, but she snapped it open anyway.

“Told any good stories lately?” the caller asked.

Eden gripped the phone tight enough that she heard the chime of the speakerphone come on.

“Hang on a sec,” she told Luke, pressing the Speaker button again to shut it off. Jarrod dropped down two stairs. “It’ll be a minute,” she told him.

Jarrod was already shaking his head. “Not leaving you alone out here. I’ll wait up by the door if you need privacy or something.”

“Go!” she said. He stepped backward once, raising a few inches.

“Eden.”

“We’re not done talking, I promise. But I need to take this.”

She descended to the sidewalk and crossed the street. Behind her, the door slammed.

“I figured it would take you quite a bit longer to shake him,” Luke said.

“Where are you?” Her eyes ricocheted across the parked cars, sidewalks. “What do you want?” she asked.

“Through your alley. I’ll meet you on the other side, doorway of the cabaret. Walk my way, but don’t stop. I’ll follow you.” He hung up before she could answer.