A Touch Mortal

Chapter 51





It wasn’t Az.

Gabe. The whole time it had been Gabe.

Her eyes went first to Az, still in the chair, crossed over Libby and Jarrod, and finally settled on Gabe. His shoulders twitched, the skin there still rippling beneath the surface. But the sudden terror she felt had nothing to do with Gabe. Luke was looking at him. His eyes blazed.

He moved, cast a hand down toward Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe hadn’t noticed. His fingers dug into the black goo on the roof. She wanted to scream, to warn him, but nothing came. A frantic search of the roof and she saw no one had moved. Jarrod was the first to attack.

He wasn’t going for Luke.

Jarrod’s dive caught Libby around the shoulders, the momentum dragging her down practically onto Eden’s lap. Libby grunted in surprise as she crashed hard against the tar paper. A snap cut through the air, the arm she’d raised too late to catch herself bent unnaturally between wrist and elbow. Her scream was piercing, but not loud enough to blot out Jarrod’s shout.

“Do it, Eden!” he roared as he landed on top of Libby, rolling until he was behind her and yanking her arms back. He cringed as the slice on his chest pulled open, but he jutted his knee into her spine, thrusting her face out toward Eden. Libby’s eyes went wild as she tried to twist free. She knew exactly what Jarrod wanted done.

“Eden! Now!” Jarrod screamed.

Eden’s hand drew back, then rushed forward with more strength than she should have had. Her palm crushed into the base of Libby’s nose. A wet, disintegrating crunch let it carry further.

A shocked spurt of red choked out of Libby. Now she had no choice but to breathe through her mouth. Eden pounded another punch into Libby’s face for the hell of it. Her fingers dug into Libby’s flushed cheeks, sliding and tangling into her hair.

Catching hold, Eden squeezed her hands into fists, ignored the pop of detaching follicles as she dragged Libby’s face to hers. Jarrod glanced over her shoulder. He jerked in surprise.

“Eden, quick-like?” he pressed. A growl of rage that could only belong to Luke lanced through the air. He’d spotted them.

Concentrating, Eden held down Libby’s hands as Libby struggled against Jarrod’s grip. A breath out. Libby’s chin lifted with the next respiration. A cloud of condensation burst from Eden’s lips in the cold, swirling between them before the vapors were dragged down Libby’s throat.

Gray fringes veined across Libby’s forehead, wound up her neck to cloak her chin.

“Get away from her!” Luke screamed, his weight slamming Eden to the ground, crushing her shoulder into her collarbone. He scrambled off, her vision swimming before the world snapped back into focus.

From where she lay she could see Gabe, bloodied but rallying. All that was left of Libby was a greasy smear of gray. Luke tumbled into it, rolling onto Jarrod, clamoring over him in a scuttling half run across the roof. Eden’s brain spit out the first answer—They’d won! He was running away!—before her eyes jumped the ten feet ahead to where he was running.

Still in the chair, Az yanked against the ropes that tied his wrists, his palms pulling up. They made a rather pathetic shield as Luke hammered into him.

The chair had been rickety and half rotted, a last minute addition dragged up from one of the abandoned buildings nearby. It splintered under the weight of them when it hit the ground. Az’s arms flailed, the broken stakes that used to be the chair’s arms bound to his wrists.

Eden took off at a dead run, but Luke had Az in a choke hold. By the time she got close, he’d backed them near enough to the edge that Eden faltered and slowed. Loose gravel skittered as Gabe and Jarrod flanked her from behind.

Her breath caught, choking off, every muscle in her body cramping at once. Libby’s Touch was working its way into her.

Luke’s eyes burned crimson, intense enough to cauterize, darting between the three of them. Yanking Az with him, Luke slid back six inches until his boot heel ground against the concrete lip running around the roof. Only a foot high, it would be easy to stumble over. Or throw someone over.

“No,” Eden whispered. The memory of the fight on the balcony, of all the seconds she’d wasted as he’d gone over. The taste of bile slicked the inside of her cheeks. He was injured already. He wasn’t healing. She stared at Az, willing him to open his eyes as pain tore up her arms, across her chest. It was nothing compared to what Az must have felt. He made no effort to break free, didn’t claw at the crooked elbow at his neck. His eyes stayed closed. Eden wondered if he’d given up. Don’t Fall, she thought, desperately.

She’d tensed to take the first step toward them but paused when Gabe spoke.

“Why does he have Az?” Gabe whispered from behind her. She paused, confused before she focused again on Luke.

“How much more pain do you think he can take?” Luke asked. “And falls are painful, aren’t they, Gabe.” He tightened his hold on Az.

Az was finally trying to stand, his knees still half bent but holding him up, his head just below Luke’s chin. He gave his hands a weak shake. Below the cord, his fingers had purpled. The broken arms of the chair still dug into the flesh of his arms. He curled his fingers behind the curved balls, jutting out past his wrists like an extra appendage. Az opened his eyes, searching Eden out.

“Why are you fighting this, Eden?” Luke asked, but Eden couldn’t take her eyes from Az, his lips. They were moving, forming soundless words. “If Az Falls, you two can be together. I give you my word.” It almost looked as if Az was mimicking Luke, but the words didn’t quite match. She squinted.

Unconsciously, she took a step forward.

Luke shot a pointed finger up as she moved. “Don’t come any…!”

Az’s hand flashed, the balled end of the broken chair arm smashing Luke on the chin, his head flying back. Az raised his other arm and dropped through the loop of Luke’s loosened grip. He hit the ground with a hard oof, already crawling, even before his knees made contact.

Luke gave his head a rough shake, but there wasn’t enough time to recover before Jarrod crashed into him. They teetered on the ledge, a whirl of arms before Jarrod pushed his hands into Luke’s chest—the last momentum needed to topple them both over the edge.

“No!” Eden yelled. She leaped for Jarrod’s arm, barely caught it in time. His head snapped up, eyes panicked as his body hit the building. Her fingernails scraped his skin, his other hand whipping up, trying to catch her hand as her grip slipped down to his wrist. “Jarrod!” For a second she thought she had him, but his fingers slid through hers.

She tipped over the edge, one hand stretching into the empty air as he dropped. The other desperately swatted away the hands grasping her waist. A tangle of arms wrapped around it, pulling her back.

Ten stories below, the two bodies laid on the debris in a shattered heap.

“He’s moving,” Az said from beside her. Luke wriggled out from under Jarrod’s legs, flopping them off to the side.

“We gotta get down there. I gotta dose Jarrod. He’ll need more Touch to heal.” She winced, spasms cramping her abdomen. “I have to get rid of some too.”

Luke’s face snapped up. He reached for Jarrod’s face, yanking the jaw back and forth before Luke dropped his hand. The deadweight of Jarrod’s head smacked back against the ground.

Even from the roof she could make out the smile twisting Luke’s mouth.

“It’s a start,” he yelled up, his voice ricocheting between the buildings, the threat echoing in doubles. He rose slowly as if testing his limbs to make sure they still worked, then lifted Jarrod over his shoulder. “We’re not done, love,” he promised before he winced, an arm slung tight across his ribs. He only made it a few steps before he fell to his knees.

“You’re f*cking right we’re not done,” Eden yelled, her hands curled over the edge. She clambered to her feet. “Gabe! Come on! He’s headed out of the alley!” Gabe stared at her blankly, like she spoke something close to, but not quite, English.

“What are you waiting for! If he takes Jarrod, he’ll torture him!”

Gabe moved toward her. The look in his eyes shifted something inside her, her blood running cold. His head tipped to the left, the angle strange, almost avian.

Az stepped closer to her. “Careful. He’s not himself right now.”

“I don’t care what he did, Az.” She moved forward, shaking her hand free when Az grabbed for it. “Gabe, I forgive you. It doesn’t matter anymore. But we need to go get Jarrod now.” Eden bolted across the roof, down the rusted ladder, not waiting for Az with his wounded limp.

Luke hadn’t made it far. He kneeled half a dozen paces from where Jarrod leaned up against a wall. Eden kept an eye on Luke as she dropped down, leaned in to dose Jarrod with Touch.

“That should help. Give it a minute.” She squeezed his shoulders. “You okay?”

“Okay is a bit of a stretch. Not so tight.” She pulled back enough to catch his pained smile and settled for a death grip on his hands. “I was so right,” he said.

“About what?” Eden asked, confused.

“Skin and concrete. So don’t mix.” Jarrod grimaced.

“Don’t come any closer.” At Az’s voice, she looked up, her smile faltering. Luke swayed on his feet.

“What’re you gonna do?” he challenged, a bubble of blood popping from his mouth to coat his chin red.

“He couldn’t carry me,” Jarrod said. “He’s bluffing.”

Eden’s eyes flicked to Az. He hesitated. “You can barely stand. It’s over, Luke.”

Luke smeared his hand across his lips, fresh blood coloring the skin even as he wiped it clean. He gave a resigned nod.

“For now. Two out of three isn’t so bad.” He started to stumble away, holding himself up on the wall.

“Eden isn’t yours,” Az called after him.

Luke looked back. “Gabe made her. Her Siders go Downstairs now.”

Then he turned the corner. Eden shuddered. It was over. She felt Az’s arm at her waist, turned into his arms.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” she said, tucking her head onto his shoulder. He rubbed a hand down her back, ran the fingers of his other through her hair.

“Never.” He pulled back, gazing into her eyes. “I love you.”

She ached to kiss him, knew she couldn’t. “I love you too.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes. Is this all we’ll be able to have?

“Az,” she said quietly. “Was Luke right? About my Siders going Downstairs.”

She wasn’t sure he would answer, but he whispered, “I don’t know. I think he might be.” He wrapped his arms around her again. “We’ll make sure before you take any more Siders, okay?” Eden thought about Libby, crumbling into nothing. Too late, she thought.

Jarrod let out a long moan. She pulled out of Az’s arms, dropping down to him. “You all right?”

“Everything hurts,” he mumbled, his breaths sharp, erratic pulls for air. His skin was pale.

“Jarrod needs rest. Help me get him up.” Eden glanced past Az as they struggled to get Jarrod to his feet. “Where’s Gabriel?”

“He Fell, Eden.”

“I know that. But where is he now?”

Az wouldn’t look at her, shrugged a shoulder under Jarrod’s arm to take on more of his weight. When Az spoke, his voice came out quiet and broken.

“There is no Gabriel anymore.”