A Touch Menacing (46 page)

“Thank you,” Rachel said.

Jarrod bent over, resting his elbows on his knees. The Touch she’d passed him was still settling. He could feel it, slithering through him. Already he was itching to pass it off to any mortal they found, but he had to hold on, save it in case one of the girls needed it. Which meant he had to keep his head clear. No dark thoughts.

When he stood up again, Sullivan was next to him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worried.

“Too much Touch makes any of us sick, crazy. You and Eden can hold much more than I can.” Even as he said it, a wave of pain washed through his abdomen. He clenched his teeth until it passed. “When Eden used to dose me, I’d pass it off to the mortals pretty quick so it didn’t affect me.”

“But now you’re keeping it for us, in case we get hurt?” she asked quietly.

He gave her a quick nod. “Can Rachel dose Sullivan again?” he called out to Eden.

Rachel seemed more animated, coming around with each dose she gave. If it was true—if she
could
make Siders mortal again—Eden and Sullivan would have to stay with her, drain her of the Touch she accumulated with every Sider she took out. And if they were getting massive doses of Touch from Rachel, they wouldn’t need to take out Siders.

Kristen sidled up to her. “I’m first.” She glared back at the look of uncertainty Eden gave her. “Do you have any idea how much time I’ve put into training myself to store? After you two, I’m the most capable person in this group to help her.”

“We need to find out how to get the Siders to come to her,” Eden said as Rachel dosed Kristen. She turned to Jackson. “Or better yet, we can have her go to them. Stay on the move.”

Suddenly, Kristen’s whole face shifted, going pale. Jarrod turned just in time to see someone with an odd, loping gait walk the last few feet of the cross street they stood on and disappear behind the edge of the apartment building.

“He was in my yard.” Venom filled Kristen’s voice. “I saw him last night,” she said, stepping forward. “I’ll kill him for what he’s done.”

Az grabbed for her arm. “Are you crazy? We go. Now,” he said as he snagged her. “Do not run unless they see us.”

“Shit,” Jarrod whispered, knowing it was probably too late already to make an escape. The Bound were like roaches; spotting one meant they’d already infested a place. His eyes skipped around, taking in roofs and fire escapes and cars parked on the side of the street. They could be anywhere. Beside him, he heard Sullivan’s frightened breaths.

Eden wasn’t bothering being inconspicuous. She slowly walked backward. “Az, stick close to Rachel. They can’t get to her.”

“Understood,” he said as he moved to the girl’s side. “If we get split up—”

A foot slammed into Jarrod’s chest. He flew back as the angel finished materializing, and landed hard. He rolled out of the way just as a fist plunged into the gravelly snow.

Even before he finished the roll and was back on his feet, he focused on the blur of Eden’s black coat. Still alive. Another Bound popped into existence beside him. He threw a punch and heard the thing’s nose crunch under his knuckles.

“Az, get Rachel!” he called, praying. Jarrod took the split second to glance around. Their group had scattered. Four Bound—including the one he’d punched—had Az and Kristen flanked, backing them slowly toward a chain-link fence.

Rachel ran for him instead of Az. “Who are they?” she gasped beside him.

“Angels,” he answered distractedly. Where was Sullivan? He swept across the scene again. Panic surged into him. Where the hell was Eden?

At the fence, Kristen drew something out of her boot. She dropped a sheath and brandished a curved blade. It glinted evilly in the winter sun. “No closer,” she commanded.

A gasp rippled through the Bound.
A knife?
Jarrod wondered. He’d let her get close to Eden and never thought she’d been armed. He expected the Bound to laugh. One eased closer. Jarrod watched, torn between getting Rachel out of there and staying to help.
Would the Bound hurt Az?
he wondered, knowing even as he thought it that they would. He was half Fallen. To them he was nothing. And he was with the Siders.

For the moment, it looked like the angels were trained on Kristen, or, more accurately, the knife. She held it in front of her with both hands on the hilt.

One of the Bound made a horrible metallic sound. “You struggle valiantly but in vain. Weapons mean nothing in weak hands.”

She carved the blade through the air, stopping it near the angel’s neck. “Don’t,” she warned, “call me weak.”

The angels stumbled back a step.

“Who would give such a weapon to you?” Another step back. Whatever the knife was, it had them ready to run.

“Lucifer,” Kristen snarled. “You will leave me and my friends. If any of you harm us, it’s his wrath you’ll have to fear!”

A murmur of dissent went through them. Even Jarrod couldn’t look away. A blade forged in Hell. The only thing that could kill one of the Bound. Kristen’s hair swirled around her in the breeze, wild, her eyes flashing. She looked badass. She looked terrifying.

One of the angels winked out of existence.

Then two more.

“We are many,” the last growled. He backed slowly away. “Your kind dims.”

And then he, too, was gone.

“Kristen!” Az shouted. “Do you even know what the fuck you’re holding?”

“Angel antidote.” Kristen waved the blade from side to side like it was a toy. “Handy!”

Az stared at it like it was a snake. “Luke wouldn’t trust you with it. Did you steal it from him?”

She stilled. “Why wouldn’t he trust me?”

Az didn’t answer. “Jarrod, where’s Eden?” he asked carefully.

No.
Jarrod whipped around, scanning the alley, praying Eden and Sullivan would be climbing out from behind a Dumpster or in an alcove.

“Jackson’s gone, too. And your girl,” Kristen said.

A whoosh of air swirled beside Jarrod. He heard the pop of one of the Bound coming back and ducked instinctively. Arms appeared around Rachel’s middle. She looked down in surprise.

The angel zoomed backward down the street before Rachel could even scream, her shoes skipping across the pavement. One came off, tumbled to the side as she whipped around a corner out of sight. Jarrod took off after, though it was hopeless. There was no way he was going to be able to keep pace, let alone catch up. He got to the first street but hesitated in the crosswalk. Az and Kristen dashed up behind him.
Don’t panic, think,
he commanded himself.

A scream drifted through the air. Everyone froze. Distorted, carried by the wind, it was still full of agony.

“No,” Az whispered. He took off after the source, not waiting, not looking back. Like Jarrod, the second he’d heard it, he knew who it belonged to.

Eden.

CHAPTER 26

I
made the Siders?
Gabe thought. That was impossible. There was no way he could have caused something so catastrophic, so horrifying, without knowing it. “You’re lying,” Gabe said. He tried again to read Annalise’s thoughts. Again, she blocked him effortlessly. “Who are you?”

Her eyes bored into his. “You’re not going to jump, are you?” she said. Gabe shook his head, not understanding. “That’s what you said to me. ‘You’re not going to jump, are you?’ Do you remember me now? I’d gone to the park, overlooking the river, and—”

“The concrete pilings,” Gabriel whispered. He pushed his fists down into the couch cushions. Suddenly, he remembered. How long ago was it? Five years? Six? It had been sunset, the sky oscillating with oranges and reds, and from the west a storm was rolling in. He’d been restless, and wanted to go to the park, just to get outside. Az hadn’t, but Gabe had convinced him. Thunder was rumbling in the distance when they got there, but he hadn’t wanted to give Az the satisfaction of leaving so soon. Finally, Gabe had gotten tired of his friend’s sulking and told him to go home.

He’d gone on alone. The gravel path had split, one branch straight, the other curving around to the waterfront. He’d been about to go the shorter way when he’d seen her red tank top bobbing ten feet higher than a person could walk. She was up on the concrete pilings there to keep bikers from taking the curve too sharp and plunging over the cliff. She’d been balanced, the wind in her hair, staring out at the water.

“I used to go there all the time to watch the storms roll in. I could see everything. The water, the bridges, the city.” She fell silent.

“You made me nervous so close to the edge,” Gabe said.

“It wasn’t supposed to rain, but clouds and the sunset and it was so perfect. I couldn’t remember a better day. And I turned around and you were behind me.”

Gabe’d caught her thoughts, seen the excited shine coating them. He remembered the moment her happiness had hit him, so overwhelming he’d felt drunk off it. Her mind, singing and blissful. When she’d faced the water again, he’d made his way back to the main path. He searched his memory for more, but there was nothing.

“How did that make you a Sider?” Erin asked.

Annalise’s eyes were wet. “I heard someone else coming. I turned, but I caught my lace and tripped.” She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “I hit my head when I landed and must have blacked out for a second. When I came to, a boy had his arm around me, starting to lift me up.”

“Az?” Gabe guessed, but Annalise didn’t acknowledge him.

“For a minute, I was worried about how hard I’d hit my head, because he looked so much like you,” she said, looking at Donavan. “You were supposed to meet me that day. Those pilings were our spot.”

Donavan shook his head. “But when I met you, you were already a Sider,” he said. “We met at that same park. Walking on the path.” Gabe watched as Donavan pieced it all together. When he spoke again, his voice was measured. “You came up to
me
the day we met. You knew me? So I . . . forgot you when you went Sider?”

Annalise took his hand. “You never could remember why you loved that park so much,” she said.

“Jesus Christ, Annie,” he said, ripping away from her. Her hand hung in the empty air. “If I knew you when we were mortal, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because Az wasn’t the last one to show up! And I never wanted
him
”—she spat the word—“to know you existed. And I never wanted to have to talk about what happened next.”

So focused on Donavan, Annalise let a few snapshots of memory slip through to Gabe. Az helping her to her feet. His back as he rounded the corner. Another angel approaching once he’d gone. And Gabriel saw that angel’s face.

“No,” Gabriel whispered, and Annalise’s attention snapped to him, her thoughts garbling once more, but it was too late. “What did he do to you?”

She shuddered. To his surprise, at seeing her upset Donavan seemed to forget his own anger and sat back down, putting his arm around her shoulder. “He thought I was with Az,” she said. “He told me he needed to check my pupils, since I’d hit my head. I assumed he was a doctor, but when I looked into his eyes . . . Well.”

Gabe made himself sit still and wait for her to continue despite the sudden rage flooding through him.

“When I woke up, we weren’t in the park anymore and he was babbling. Things I didn’t understand about paths and love and how I didn’t have to be afraid. That Az and I could be together forever.” Her voice dropped. “I kept trying to tell him I didn’t know who he was talking about, but he’d seen us together right after I fell. And he had my memories of Donavan. He thought I was confused from hitting my head, or that Az lied to me about his name, or . . . something.”

Annalise picked at a thread on her pants. Then she opened her mind to Gabe.

A barrage of fragmented memories slammed into him.
Kept me in a room—locked—promised not to tell anyone what he’d done—“keep Az from Falling”—and then we could all have what we wanted—
“He told me that he would fix me,” she said aloud. “I felt like I was going out of my skin. Every day it got worse, this feeling building inside me, and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. And I took a sheet from the bed and—”

“Stop,” Gabe said, his head hanging low. “That’s enough.”

Donavan rubbed his hand up and down Annalise’s arm, his thoughts stricken.

“I woke up on the floor,” she said, finally. “I thought I’d failed.” She stared ahead, focused somewhere far beyond the room they sat in now. “The door was open and so I ran. I ran home.”

She didn’t say any more. They all knew what happened, how without a path, any life the Siders had led as mortals was as if it had never existed. They were forgotten.

Donavan brought his hand up to her head, stroking her hair. “And me?”

Annalise sniffed. “I thought it would be okay if we just started over. I wasn’t sure what I was, only that I was different. I thought maybe you could still love me. Every time we touched—I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing to you,” she got out before she burst into tears.

Donavan pulled her against him. “Is that enough?” he asked Gabe, an edge to his voice.

“Why me?” Erin asked as Annalise lifted her head from Donavan’s shoulder. “I met Madeline shopping. Did you send her after me? Did I know you?”