A Touch Menacing

by Leah Clifford

  Satisfied, she opened the door.

  They slipped quickly inside. On the floor, an unconscious slip of a girl laid with her arms folded across her chest. The girl almost looked like she was sleeping, but Madeline knew otherwise. “She’s out? For sure?”

  Jackson bit his thumbnail. “I injected them all about two hours ago.”

  Madeline nodded distractedly. In a room downstairs there were six other mortals, all on Touch but drugged to unconsciousness. Early on, Madeline had made the decision to clue her Siders in on what she and Jackson were attempting, making others like themselves, an army to fight the Bound. She’d left out a few details, namely her plans for this specific girl. Yesterday, Jackson had carried her upstairs, separating her from the others.

  “She’s been passed to how many times again?” Madeline whispered.

  Beside her, Jackson paced a tight circle. He stopped, staring down. “Thirty over the past three days,” he answered. Every one of the Queens Siders had given her Touch, most multiple times. “But only you and I have passed to her since yesterday.”

  “Jesus,” she whispered. She couldn’t take her eyes off the girl. “Okay, we need to do this.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want to give it another day? Wait until after the ball?” Jackson scratched absently at his arm. “I thought we were going to run this by Kristen first,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I’ll tell her about the attack, but earlier she basically told me something was going to have to be done about Eden before she took out any more Siders. How do you think Kristen would react if she knew what we’re going to do?”

  Madeline couldn’t risk being stopped when their plan had the potential to help them all so much. They’re going to torture Zach until they figure out how to destroy us, she thought.

  She pictured what Allison had described, Zach’s flying body shattering the front window of Milton’s. His blood seeping into the sidewalk. “I should call Erin. I have to tell her. About Zach.”

  Jackson stroked her face. “Then let’s do that instead.”

  On the floor, the girl shuddered.

  Madeline brushed away his hand and picked up a railroad spike of a syringe. “No. It’s time.”

  “I don’t like this.” Jackson sighed, and rubbed his palm over his shaved head.

  “Gabe said the paths were eroding because the mortals were getting too much Touch. Ergo, when she dies, she’ll be a Sider.” Madeline flicked the oversized syringe.

  “Yeah, but she’s not killing herself. This is murder, Mad. If it even works, and she does go Sider,” he said, “won’t she be like Eden? A death breather?”

  “I’m making her, the way Gabe made Eden,” she whispered, watching the bubbles rise up the tube. “When he was Bound, the Siders Eden killed went Upstairs. When he was Fallen, they went Down.” She trailed off as she crouched beside the girl and took her limp elbow. She felt Touch pass. Once more for good luck, she thought. “I’m going to do this and find out where hers go,” Madeline said as the needle popped through into the girl’s vein.

  She pushed the plunger.

  “Has anyone ever done this before?” His hand pressed against the small of her back as he helped her up. The touch reminded her of Luke at the jewelry store.

  She rolled her shoulder, pulling away. “Not that I know of,” she said.

  The girl bucked suddenly, startling them both. The whites of her eyes were visible through the thin crack between her eyelids. Her fingers clawed the floor in rigid swipes.

  “God, I can’t watch this,” Jackson said. Madeline heard him cross the room and close the door behind him.

  Madeline couldn’t look away. Some part of her wanted to drop down, tell the poor thing she would be all right. It was a very small part. A thin line of foamy spittle drooled from the girl onto the floor.

  “You’re going to save us,” Madeline promised, not sure if the words were meant for herself or the thrashing girl. This will work. A terrible thrill crackled through her as the girl stilled. This has to work. After a full minute, Madeline snapped up the limp wrist. There was no pulse. “Done and done,” she said as she stood.

  Her phone trilled in her pocket.

  She pulled it out as she backed away from the body, expecting any name but the one that showed up on her screen. “Eden? You’re alive!” She couldn’t help the shock in her voice. “How did you get out?”

  Eden’s voice was sharp. “Were you told before or after the Bound came to kill me? Took Zach?”

  Shit. Stupid mistake. “That’s not fair,” Madeline said. “If I’d known, I would have warned you. My sources told me a few minutes ago, no more.” She kept her tone even. “I would never cross you like that. Or Zach. He seems nice,” she added, covering.

  Eden let out a laugh full of disbelief. Does she know who Zach is? Madeline wondered.

  “So when’s the ball, Madeline?” Eden demanded. “You’re not leaving us on our own now that the Bound are attacking Siders in the open.”

  Madeline switched the phone to her other ear. Great, she thought. “Eden, you cannot show up there, do you understand me? You need to stay the hell away from Kristen.”

  “Why?” Eden asked.

  “Because she wants you dead,” Madeline said. “And right now, she thinks you are. The purpose of the ball is to gather as many Siders to her as possible. You kill Siders. I’d say the conflict’s pretty clear.”

  On the floor, the dead girl’s eyes were still open a slit. Crouching down, Madeline closed them. “I’ve got plans in motion. All I need is a little more time, and Kristen’s issues with you will be obsolete.” By morning, she thought. Then they would know for sure. For now, though, she had to be sure Eden was somewhere safe. “Where are you planning on staying?”

  “Hidden,” Eden answered instantly, and Madeline couldn’t help feeling a bit of hope for her.

  “Good girl,” she said. “Trust no one. Stay out of sight. The ball’s tomorrow night. I’ll call you when it’s over.”

  She hung up without waiting for a response. Now, all she had to do was wait. In a few hours, she and Jackson would know whether the first part of her plan had worked. If not, Madeline would be Googling the hell out of how to dispose of a body.

  CHAPTER 9

  Kristen strode down the hall, shoulders back, head high. She had told no one about the attack on Milton’s after Madeline’s call. Now, more than ever, the ball had to go on as planned.

  She halted at the top of the stairs and leaned against the railing. At her heels was a young Sider.

  With a flick of her hand, Kristen gestured to the room below. “Furniture will need to be moved to the outskirts, and I’d like speakers and refreshments set up to the right of the stairs. Lights strung across there,” she said, pointing up to the exposed beams of the ceiling. “Like stars. Don’t skimp.”

  She whipped around to find the Sider scribbling on a small pad of paper.

  “And what sort of music?” the girl asked.

  Music. Kristen’s brain lodged in a memory of fingers coursing over frets, gentle strumming. No. Lips against her skin. Luke’s fingers in her hair. Do not think about him. Her grip tightened on the banister. The timbre of Luke’s voice flooded her brain, dragged her under, and stole her breath. He’s not here.

  “Kristen?”

  “Let Sebastian choose the music.” Her voice came out weaker than she would have liked.

  “You don’t want to?” the girl asked.

  Kristen’s dress billowed around her as she closed the distance between them. “Did you in any way not understand,” she challenged, “or are you second-guessing my decisions?”

  “I wasn’t. I would never,” the girl stammered.

  “You would never second-guess?” An angry heat filled her chest, scorched away the last thoughts of Luke. “So I’m to gather you’re stupid?”

  “Kristen. Stop.” She startled at Sebastian’s sudden presence. The sharp sound of his voice unleashed her temper even before sh
e heard the next word. He had been at her side since before she’d become the leader of the Bronx two years ago. He knew better than to speak against her.

  “I won’t tolerate stupidity. Put her in the east wing.” She mocked the girl’s sharp intake. The east wing was where the Screamers were kept, locked in, and made to store their Touch until they went mad with it. “I want her suffering.”

  Sebastian looped his muscled arm for the girl to take, but instead of leading her away, he stood stock-still. “Perhaps that’s a bit rash?” When Kristen didn’t immediately answer, he turned, spinning the girl with him. “Go, Shanyn,” he said to her. “Stay out of sight today.”

  The girl was down the stairs before Kristen’s jaw even had a chance to drop. She shook her head in disbelief. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Your Second,” he said softly. “Though you’re treating me like your enemy.” Sebastian met her glare with sad brown eyes. “What are you so angry about?” he asked.

  “I’m not. I’m fi—”

  He held out his hand to cut her off. “You’re not fine,” he said loudly.

  She swiveled to survey the preparations below. The Siders down there were setting up decorations and candles along the mantel. They hadn’t looked up at Sebastian’s words.

  “My room,” she commanded. “Now.”

  When they were beyond prying ears in her bedroom, she closed her door. She kept her hand on the wood, trying to collect herself as he paced behind her back.

  She swallowed hard, unsure how to tell him about the attack at Milton’s. Eden and her Second were gone, along with Zach. “Sebastian, I . . .”

  “I shouldn’t have undermined your authority,” he said. “Especially after your absence.”

  The floorboards creaked as he shifted, giving away how uncomfortable the confrontation made him.

  “You can’t hurt our Siders, Kristen. To beat the Bound, we need strength and we need numbers. Losing either is unacceptable.” As she turned to face him, Sebastian took a deep breath and began again. “Is it your illness that has you acting this way?”

  Being in charge, he’d grown bold.

  She felt her face flush. “Cruelty isn’t a symptom.”

  Nothing would wipe away how she’d felt seeing Sebastian at Aerie, where he and Eden had come looking and found her with Luke. Eden had gone for insults and personal drama, but Sebastian . . . he had only wanted her safe, wanted her home. If he’d come alone, she just might have listened to him.

  She wondered if Luke would have let her go.

  Sebastian led the others to believe her absence was a planned event. As always, he seemed to know exactly when to give her space and when to push. They needed to trust each other. Secrets now could get them killed.

  “You’re afraid?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting a moment for her to contradict him, then plowed on. “Don’t be. Tomorrow, we have the ball. The others will come and—”

  “Gabriel said last week the other angels were close to figuring out a way to kill us. They may already have found one.” She licked her lips as she broke eye contact. “There was an attack today in Manhattan.”

  “Today? In broad daylight?” Sebastian balked. “On Eden’s crew?”

  Kristen nodded. “Eden, Jarrod, possibly another girl with them. And one other.” She wanted to be strong for him. “Zach.”

  His face fell. She barely heard his whispered curse.

  “No one is to leave the house,” she commanded. “Not together, not alone. Not at all. We need everyone here and ready to fight if necessary.” I need you safe. By my side, she thought but didn’t say. He had to know how important he was. How she leaned on him. “Are you all ri—”

  “Numbers don’t matter if we can’t kill our enemy. Why haven’t you asked Gabriel?” The coldness in his voice cut through her like ice.

  “What, how to kill the Bound?” She ran her fingers through the wild mess of her brown hair until she hit a snarl. “He would never tell me. What would the Siders do to me if I told the Bound some way to kill us?” she asked, exasperated.

  The rationalization didn’t give him pause. His brown eyes burned with anger. “Manipulate him. Guilt him into it.”

  She blinked at him in surprise. “He’s my friend!”

  “No. He’s one of them, Kristen, and from what you told me, he’s pretty desperate to remain so. You’d do well to remember he’s an enemy.”

  She shook her head, but it did nothing to stop her thoughts. Gabriel’s face on the train when he was Fallen, how he’d hurt her, his grip bruising her wrist. The black and blue marks had been nothing; remembering how he’d cast her aside cut deeper. Will he do it again, for the Bound this time? “Gabriel’s done more for me than—”

  “Past tense. Done,” Sebastian said before she could finish, stabbing a victorious finger in her face.

  “This conversation is over.” She turned away, couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to acknowledge the truth in his words. “Are we clear?”

  “Fine.” Sebastian crossed his arms. “What about Luke?”

  Heat rose slowly up her neck to her cheeks. “You just don’t stop, do you? I told you that was done.”

  “And I believe you. But would he tell you how to kill angels?”

  The idea took hold even as her anger slid away.

  “Kristen?” Sebastian prodded. “Would Luke tell you how to kill angels?”

  She shook her head, rattling the thought away. It didn’t matter. “Not anymore.” She’d denied Luke in front of Gabriel. He’d laced her up in his delicate puppet strings, left her feeling foolish and unraveled. It was over. “Lucifer isn’t exactly one to trust in an alliance anyway,” she said.

  Sebastian took a step toward her. “Are you sure? Our lives depend on it.” She glanced up at him.

  “I’ll do what I can.” Her voice was barely audible. After closing the door behind Sebastian, she stood lost in her thoughts.

  Luke’s dangerous. He used you. The voice in her head belonged to Gabriel. She wanted to listen. And yet, she’d seen the rage on Luke’s face when he realized she was leaving him. Angry after Gabriel had been Bound, when any Siders Eden killed off were back to infecting Upstairs, not Down. Why had Luke been so livid at her leaving if he’d already won his game?

  Her eyes slipped shut, the memory of the last night at Aerie replaying. Eden suffering, Gabriel Bound again, sanity. And Luke, beside her, the whisper in her ear. This is everything you wanted, he had said.

  But what had he wanted?

  She rolled a gaudy sapphire ring around her thumb, pondering. What would happen if she listened to Sebastian? She pictured herself showing up at Luke’s apartment unannounced. Even in her imagination, the smug smile that she knew he’d wear irked her. He’d cock his hip against the doorframe, maybe surprised to see her there, but maybe not. She wondered if he’d force her to say the things that her presence would tell him anyway: that she’d made a mistake, should have stayed. Missed him.

  Kristen sighed. There was only one reason she couldn’t go through with it.

  Luke would know it wasn’t a lie.

  CHAPTER 9

  Kristen strode down the hall, shoulders back, head high. She had told no one about the attack on Milton’s after Madeline’s call. Now, more than ever, the ball had to go on as planned.

  She halted at the top of the stairs and leaned against the railing. At her heels was a young Sider.

  With a flick of her hand, Kristen gestured to the room below. “Furniture will need to be moved to the outskirts, and I’d like speakers and refreshments set up to the right of the stairs. Lights strung across there,” she said, pointing up to the exposed beams of the ceiling. “Like stars. Don’t skimp.”

  She whipped around to find the Sider scribbling on a small pad of paper.

  “And what sort of music?” the girl asked.

  Music. Kristen’s brain lodged in a memory of fingers coursing over frets, gentle strumming. No. Lips against her skin. Luke’s fingers in he
r hair. Do not think about him. Her grip tightened on the banister. The timbre of Luke’s voice flooded her brain, dragged her under, and stole her breath. He’s not here.

  “Kristen?”

  “Let Sebastian choose the music.” Her voice came out weaker than she would have liked.

  “You don’t want to?” the girl asked.

  Kristen’s dress billowed around her as she closed the distance between them. “Did you in any way not understand,” she challenged, “or are you second-guessing my decisions?”

  “I wasn’t. I would never,” the girl stammered.

  “You would never second-guess?” An angry heat filled her chest, scorched away the last thoughts of Luke. “So I’m to gather you’re stupid?”

  “Kristen. Stop.” She startled at Sebastian’s sudden presence. The sharp sound of his voice unleashed her temper even before she heard the next word. He had been at her side since before she’d become the leader of the Bronx two years ago. He knew better than to speak against her.

  “I won’t tolerate stupidity. Put her in the east wing.” She mocked the girl’s sharp intake. The east wing was where the Screamers were kept, locked in, and made to store their Touch until they went mad with it. “I want her suffering.”

  Sebastian looped his muscled arm for the girl to take, but instead of leading her away, he stood stock-still. “Perhaps that’s a bit rash?” When Kristen didn’t immediately answer, he turned, spinning the girl with him. “Go, Shanyn,” he said to her. “Stay out of sight today.”

  The girl was down the stairs before Kristen’s jaw even had a chance to drop. She shook her head in disbelief. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Your Second,” he said softly. “Though you’re treating me like your enemy.” Sebastian met her glare with sad brown eyes. “What are you so angry about?” he asked.