A Touch Menacing

by Leah Clifford

  “Of course.” She bent to take the sheathed knife from her boot and hand it over, but he stopped her.

  “Leave it,” he said. “You’ll need it again.”

  Luke took a single stride and drew his hand over Jarrod’s coat near his waist, up his chest to his shoulder, across his neck. Jarrod tried to wipe the startled expression from his face. “Disembowelment,” Luke said. “Sever the neck. Go for arteries. To kill a Bound, you need them to bleed out faster than they can heal.”

  “They just . . . bleed to death?” Jarrod asked, not quite believing. It was too easy. He glanced around them, suddenly conscious of being overheard. The cold kept the park from teeming with people, but a few still glanced at Luke with unsure expressions.

  Oblivious or uninterested, Luke tapped a finger against his neck, his wrists, under his arms, near where his leg met his hip. Jarrod got a quick glimpse of a low-slung belt and a long knife holstered at Luke’s waist, hidden under his coat. “Ex sanguis,” Luke went on. “Religion is obsessed with blood. Someone was trying to give you guys clues, just in case. Those assholes Upstairs needed a checks and balances system, so it got written into your holy code.” He paused. “But it’s not quite so easy. These blades are special. Sins melted into the metal as they were forged in hellfire. A wound from one of these weapons takes the Bound much longer to heal from.”

  “Are the Bound close?” Jarrod asked. Already the itch to fight twitched in his muscles. “Where’re our weapons?”

  “We don’t get weapons,” Az said quietly. Jarrod had almost forgotten he was there. “Yet. What are you offering, Lucifer?”

  Luke put an arm around Kristen. He lowered to her ear and whispered. She eased against him, her brow furrowed. “I offer Kristen up as trust,” Luke said. “In exchange, of course, for Eden. Are we agreed?”

  “Kristen’s not good enough,” Az said. Jarrod watched the surprise and confusion cross her face, but Az went on. “Offer me Sullivan, too.”

  “What?” Jarrod demanded. He couldn’t help the desperation in his voice, didn’t understand what was going on.

  Tapping his fingers against his lips, Luke stared off into the sky as if deep in thought. “Done. I offer up Sullivan as trust, if,” Luke said, and pointed to Jarrod, “he offers Sullivan to me. Otherwise, we’re done here.” He picked up the guitar again. “Az, if you’d be so kind as to explain it to him.”

  He strummed on the guitar, singing softly as he wandered far enough to give them a chance to talk.

  “Az, what is this?” Jarrod asked.

  Az blew out a breath. “Did you trust him, standing next to you with that knife?”

  “Of course not,” Jarrod said, annoyed. They were wasting time. The girls could be dying.

  “At times, the Bound and Fallen have had to work together, so a failsafe had to be invented. We need to concentrate on fighting our enemy, not each other.” Az tucked his hands in his pockets, not looking at him. “If I turn on Luke, Eden will belong to him. Soul, body, everything.”

  Jarrod balked. “Jesus, Az! She’s not yours to offer up like some prize. How could you do that to her?”

  “I couldn’t. That’s the point.” Az tilted his head at Luke, who’d turned at the end of the row of benches and begun to head slowly back toward them. “I will not cross Luke. And Luke won’t cross me because he doesn’t want to lose Kristen.”

  “Are you kidding me? He’d turn on her in a second.”

  Kristen glared. To his surprise, though, she didn’t debate it.

  “Which is why I asked for Sullivan. If Luke can’t lay a hand on her, it hurts him where it counts.” Az paused, met his eye. “It’s also why he wants you to offer Sullivan. Luke has our weapons, Jarrod. He’s the only way we can get past the Bound. And if he can’t trust you and he walks away . . .”

  Jarrod swallowed, feeling suddenly sick. It made an entirely fucked-up kind of sense. He would never go against Luke if Sullivan was on the line.

  When Luke reached them, he bent down in front of his closed guitar case, the tip cup still on top, and balanced the instrument on one knee. “Well?” he said, his hands resting on the lid. He seemed amused by Jarrod’s hesitation, the nod he finally gave. “Out loud, please?”

  “I offer up—I offer up Sullivan as trust,” Jarrod said, watching Luke for an indication he’d said everything right.

  “Now, you get your weapon.” Luke laid back the lid. The cup of change spilled into the snow, abandoned. Inside the case were three small backpacks. He handed one to each of them, looking around them at the smattering of mortals. “Keep them in the bags until we get inside the building,” he said. “Az, you have two in yours.”

  Luke took a step toward Jarrod and studied him for a long second. “You follow my lead,” he said. “You listen to me, without question. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” Jarrod answered, his tone sharp.

  Luke’s attention shifted to Az, then Kristen. “I don’t want you to be surprised,” he said. “Gabriel’s inside. Went in about ten minutes ago. He wasn’t exactly acting like the others were enemies.”

  Luke looked up, and the Walk sign cycled through. He led them across the street. Az followed close behind.

  A moment later, Luke looked back, the glance timed for the moment Kristen would be in the middle of the street, most exposed. He didn’t so much as look at Jarrod a few strides behind her. He really is watching out for her.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jarrod whispered.

  Luke slowed to a stroll, heading them into a covered alley. He grabbed Jarrod by the arm and lowered his voice. “You’re first. Climb the scaffolding. Fourth window’s broken out. Be quick and silent.”

  Jarrod climbed.

  “Faster,” Luke said behind him. Jarrod slithered through the hole, holding on to the frame of the window, and then dropped to the floor. His feet barely hit before Luke was through. While Kristen poked her head in, Jarrod looked around. The sun had started to set, but plenty of light streamed in from the hallway. The room they were in was small. Old wooden office furniture molded to one side, wet from the leaking ceiling. The floor bowed uneasily underfoot with each step.

  “Keep coming,” Luke said. Jarrod turned back just in time to see Kristen slide through. When she dropped, Luke caught her waist. The ferocity in his gaze made Jarrod nervous.

  “Do something for me?” Luke said to her. She tilted her head to look up at him, and he brushed her lip with his thumb.

  Then his mouth pressed against hers.

  Kristen ripped out of the kiss even as Luke doubled over and dropped to his knees. “Damn it all,” she managed as she fell to him. “What have you done.”

  Neither of them seemed to notice Az climbing in, his shirt gone, first one wing and then the next stretching wide. They buffered the eight-foot fall. “Tell me she didn’t just pass him Touch.”

  Luke’s shoulders and back heaved. A deep growl rumbled low in his chest, animalistic. Tiny hairs on the back of Jarrod’s neck stood up. Unconsciously, he took a step away. Az grabbed frantically for the backpack he’d tossed in before him. He tore the zipper open and pulled out one of the two blades inside and threw aside the sheath.

  From behind Jarrod came a pop as the air fluctuated. He tensed to run just as the Bound angel formed, but Luke vaulted up and over him, knife already drawn. He swung it in a hard upward arc, spilling intestines. A second slice nearly severed the angel’s head.

  “Get back!” Az yelled. At first Jarrod thought Az was talking about the angel. Then he heard the wet chop of metal on skin, saw Luke on his knees, slamming the knife down into the pulp of what was left of the angel.

  “Oh my God.” Jarrod couldn’t look away.

  With one last dramatic stab, Luke dropped his arms, his gasps the only sound to break the stunned silence. Without a word, he wiped the blade against his pant leg and tucked it back into the sheath.

  Kristen was sprawled on the floor as if she’d been pushed out of the way. Her hair was falling out of her
ponytail, strands hanging limp around her face. A discarded backpack and sheath lay beside her, a knife clenched in her hand. “Jesus.”

  Her whisper brought a sneer from Luke. “Am I frightening enough for you?” he snarled, crawling toward her.

  Jarrod didn’t dare move. Az was frozen a few feet to his left. Only Kristen reacted, ignoring Luke as she set her knife on the floor beside her. She snapped the elastic band from her hair and held it between her lips. “Of course I’m frightened of you,” she mumbled as she gathered her hair back up, then looped the band around it. It was almost as if she wanted Luke to believe she didn’t see him as a threat, though her words were a direct contradiction. She was standing her ground without challenging him. “You’re a psychopathic Fallen with a machete. You’re doped up on Touch. And,” she said, licking her thumb as he reached her, “you’ve got blood on your lips.” She smeared away the crimson.

  Jarrod readjusted the weapon in his hand, staring at her in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “One less Bound we have to fight later, no?” Kristen’s smile was sly, her focus still on Luke. “Though kissing me probably wasn’t the best choice. Try to rein it in. We don’t have time for another hack job.”

  Horror washed over Jarrod, but then for just a split second, he saw something else in her. Revulsion. Terror, gone as soon as it came. Kristen’s bravado was breaking.

  “I knew him. He was my friend,” Az said quietly, and then seemed to shake it off. “A long time ago.”

  “And now he’s mush,” Kristen said, jerking around to him as she stood. “Can you do what Luke did? Can you kill for Eden? Because you can’t hover in the middle anymore, Az. Are you with us or them?”

  Az stared down at what was left of the angel’s face.

  Finally, Jarrod reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

  Luke got to his feet and rubbed a sleeve across his forehead. “If you’re all ready, we need to move this along.” He ran a finger down Kristen’s cheek. “I’m feeling quite violent.”

  CHAPTER 29

  She has to be alive. Jarrod’s lungs burned as their group raced through the icy streets. We’re going to get to them in time.

  Unless Luke hadn’t found them at all.

  Jarrod’s heart hammered in his chest. It could be a trap. Even if Luke had something to gain by helping them, he didn’t have anything to lose by betraying them, turning them over to the Bound for what he really wanted. Sullivan.

  They headed down Broadway, following Luke’s directions.

  “Hold up,” Az panted behind him as they cut through City Hall Park. “He’s there.”

  Sitting on the bottom lip of a fountain, Luke strummed on his guitar. A thin stream of pedestrians decked out in suits and dresses wandered past, occasionally dropping coins into a cup set on his guitar case. The fountain was gilded in gold and dry except for the snow filling it. A wrought-iron cross topped it. On either side of him, flames danced inside antique-looking lamps. Luke set the instrument aside as they approached.

  His gaze skimmed over Az, paused on Kristen, and finally, stopped on Jarrod. A cruel smile curved Luke’s lips. “Looks like your girlfriend got herself into quite the bloody mess again.”

  Rage ran raw through Jarrod’s veins, but Az clamped down on his shoulder. “Yeah,” Jarrod said slowly, his voice cold and controlled as he flicked his eyes in Kristen’s direction. “Isn’t that just the craziest?”

  Luke’s grin may have widened at the careful reply, but his eyes swore murder at the barely veiled insult of Kristen. “Do you need to be taught another lesson?” Luke asked lightly.

  Do you need to be thrown off another roof? Jarrod’s mouth opened, the comeback forming. If you say it, he’ll walk away, he thought. And Sullivan will be as good as gone. Jarrod lowered his head without saying a word.

  He didn’t have to be looking at Luke to hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Wonderful. Now that we have the alpha male bullshit out of the way, let’s get down to the matter at hand. Kristen, you still have what I gave you?”

  “Of course.” She bent to take the sheathed knife from her boot and hand it over, but he stopped her.

  “Leave it,” he said. “You’ll need it again.”

  Luke took a single stride and drew his hand over Jarrod’s coat near his waist, up his chest to his shoulder, across his neck. Jarrod tried to wipe the startled expression from his face. “Disembowelment,” Luke said. “Sever the neck. Go for arteries. To kill a Bound, you need them to bleed out faster than they can heal.”

  “They just . . . bleed to death?” Jarrod asked, not quite believing. It was too easy. He glanced around them, suddenly conscious of being overheard. The cold kept the park from teeming with people, but a few still glanced at Luke with unsure expressions.

  Oblivious or uninterested, Luke tapped a finger against his neck, his wrists, under his arms, near where his leg met his hip. Jarrod got a quick glimpse of a low-slung belt and a long knife holstered at Luke’s waist, hidden under his coat. “Ex sanguis,” Luke went on. “Religion is obsessed with blood. Someone was trying to give you guys clues, just in case. Those assholes Upstairs needed a checks and balances system, so it got written into your holy code.” He paused. “But it’s not quite so easy. These blades are special. Sins melted into the metal as they were forged in hellfire. A wound from one of these weapons takes the Bound much longer to heal from.”

  “Are the Bound close?” Jarrod asked. Already the itch to fight twitched in his muscles. “Where’re our weapons?”

  “We don’t get weapons,” Az said quietly. Jarrod had almost forgotten he was there. “Yet. What are you offering, Lucifer?”

  Luke put an arm around Kristen. He lowered to her ear and whispered. She eased against him, her brow furrowed. “I offer Kristen up as trust,” Luke said. “In exchange, of course, for Eden. Are we agreed?”

  “Kristen’s not good enough,” Az said. Jarrod watched the surprise and confusion cross her face, but Az went on. “Offer me Sullivan, too.”

  “What?” Jarrod demanded. He couldn’t help the desperation in his voice, didn’t understand what was going on.

  Tapping his fingers against his lips, Luke stared off into the sky as if deep in thought. “Done. I offer up Sullivan as trust, if,” Luke said, and pointed to Jarrod, “he offers Sullivan to me. Otherwise, we’re done here.” He picked up the guitar again. “Az, if you’d be so kind as to explain it to him.”

  He strummed on the guitar, singing softly as he wandered far enough to give them a chance to talk.

  “Az, what is this?” Jarrod asked.

  Az blew out a breath. “Did you trust him, standing next to you with that knife?”

  “Of course not,” Jarrod said, annoyed. They were wasting time. The girls could be dying.

  “At times, the Bound and Fallen have had to work together, so a failsafe had to be invented. We need to concentrate on fighting our enemy, not each other.” Az tucked his hands in his pockets, not looking at him. “If I turn on Luke, Eden will belong to him. Soul, body, everything.”

  Jarrod balked. “Jesus, Az! She’s not yours to offer up like some prize. How could you do that to her?”

  “I couldn’t. That’s the point.” Az tilted his head at Luke, who’d turned at the end of the row of benches and begun to head slowly back toward them. “I will not cross Luke. And Luke won’t cross me because he doesn’t want to lose Kristen.”

  “Are you kidding me? He’d turn on her in a second.”

  Kristen glared. To his surprise, though, she didn’t debate it.

  “Which is why I asked for Sullivan. If Luke can’t lay a hand on her, it hurts him where it counts.” Az paused, met his eye. “It’s also why he wants you to offer Sullivan. Luke has our weapons, Jarrod. He’s the only way we can get past the Bound. And if he can’t trust you and he walks away . . .”

  Jarrod swallowed, feeling suddenly sick. It made an entirely fucked-up kind of sense. He would never go against Luke if Sullivan wa
s on the line.

  When Luke reached them, he bent down in front of his closed guitar case, the tip cup still on top, and balanced the instrument on one knee. “Well?” he said, his hands resting on the lid. He seemed amused by Jarrod’s hesitation, the nod he finally gave. “Out loud, please?”

  “I offer up—I offer up Sullivan as trust,” Jarrod said, watching Luke for an indication he’d said everything right.

  “Now, you get your weapon.” Luke laid back the lid. The cup of change spilled into the snow, abandoned. Inside the case were three small backpacks. He handed one to each of them, looking around them at the smattering of mortals. “Keep them in the bags until we get inside the building,” he said. “Az, you have two in yours.”

  Luke took a step toward Jarrod and studied him for a long second. “You follow my lead,” he said. “You listen to me, without question. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” Jarrod answered, his tone sharp.

  Luke’s attention shifted to Az, then Kristen. “I don’t want you to be surprised,” he said. “Gabriel’s inside. Went in about ten minutes ago. He wasn’t exactly acting like the others were enemies.”

  Luke looked up, and the Walk sign cycled through. He led them across the street. Az followed close behind.

  A moment later, Luke looked back, the glance timed for the moment Kristen would be in the middle of the street, most exposed. He didn’t so much as look at Jarrod a few strides behind her. He really is watching out for her.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jarrod whispered.

  Luke slowed to a stroll, heading them into a covered alley. He grabbed Jarrod by the arm and lowered his voice. “You’re first. Climb the scaffolding. Fourth window’s broken out. Be quick and silent.”

  Jarrod climbed.

  “Faster,” Luke said behind him. Jarrod slithered through the hole, holding on to the frame of the window, and then dropped to the floor. His feet barely hit before Luke was through. While Kristen poked her head in, Jarrod looked around. The sun had started to set, but plenty of light streamed in from the hallway. The room they were in was small. Old wooden office furniture molded to one side, wet from the leaking ceiling. The floor bowed uneasily underfoot with each step.