A Touch Menacing

by Leah Clifford

  “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 30

  Gabriel stuck to the shadows. He hadn’t seen Eden yet. The longer he stayed away from her, the better. He’d heard there were other Siders with her, but didn’t know who.

  “Have you seen Michael?” Gabriel inquired as he passed a cluster of Bound. A few pointed up, but no one was helpful enough to give a floor. Sunset cast orange hues through the glass atrium. Instead of heading into the stairwell he faded out, materializing on each floor until he heard Michael’s voice. In Gabriel’s ears, the dialect Michael fought so hard to keep pure only sounded strange and foreign. They’re losing me bit by bit. I’m not one of them. Again, that same thought, refusing to die.

  He forced himself to study the cracked plaster on the walls, the old lath board showing through. Two rooms down, he could see a light in the direction the voice was coming from. His stomach churned.

  Six angels lined the sides of a table with Michael at the head like some sort of high council. They were arguing when Michael spotted Gabriel on the threshold.

  The emotions tumbled across Michael’s face. “You’ve come back.”

  Gabriel fought not to react as six heads turned to stare. His eyes latched on to Michael’s, refusing to acknowledge the others. “I’ve come on my terms.”

  A rippled whisper passed through the room. Michael raised a hand for silence, bowing his head toward Gabriel a fraction of an inch, his smile hesitant. “Name them, sweet prince.”

  In that smile, Gabe saw their first kiss, a tentative peck Gabe had surprised himself by initiating. Just as it had then, his heart swelled with hope. Maybe he really will listen to me.

  Michael gave him a moment, waiting, before he swept the room with his eyes. “Leave us,” he demanded.

  “No!” Gabriel took a breath. “No, they need to hear this, too.”

  That same acquiescent nod. Anything you wish, it said.

  “The Siders,” Gabe said. “I want them released.”

  Michael’s face turned to stone. His world worked without shades of gray, only right and wrong. He was a zealot, unshakable in his beliefs. He would never change. Not even for me, Gabe thought. Which shouldn’t have hurt him.

  Inside Gabriel, everything went cold. The happy memories with Michael split open and spilled out what Gabriel hadn’t allowed himself to think of until now. Michael’s lips against his lips, those same lips against Gabe’s ear begging forgiveness after their last terrible fight. The shake started in Gabe’s hands, and then it was everywhere.

  “Their threat will cease. In such I trust. But what of your task, Gabriel?” he asked with false innocence. Michael leaned back casually, opened his mind enough for Gabe to catch one thought. By my side or beneath my sword, Gabriel. Without any warning, Michael was gone from the table and standing in front of him. “Shall I anticipate problems, or have you overcome your tremor of loyalty?” Michael said as he laid a hand on Gabriel’s cheek. He dragged a fingernail down his jaw, digging enough to take off a thin layer of skin.

  The air stung the trail where Michael had touched him. “My mind is settled,” Gabe said.

  “Well then . . .” The hand on Gabe’s shoulder clenched. “The death breather is being held on the seventh floor. Remedy your mistake now,” Michael said calmly.

  “I don’t know if I—” The fingers loosened and slipped from Gabe’s shoulder to his arm. Around him, the room was silent, the others watching. Not one interfered. More hovered near the doorway, drawn in by the raw emotion in the air. Still too few, Gabe thought, being sure to keep it scrambled. I need them all here. He raised his voice. “Spare them, Michael! Some part of you must know it’s the right thing to do.”

  Gabe gave no reasons, made no effort to back up his plea. The weakness of the argument clearly infuriated Michael. He leaned nearer to Gabe’s ear. “You are being an embarrassment. Executioner or executed,” he whispered before his voice grew loud enough for the others to hear. “We have not killed her because she awaits you. The other abomination we use to poison Downstairs. A third female is being evaluated.”

  The third must have been the Sider Az told him about at the
restaurant, the one who turned Madeline mortal.

  “And the boy?” Gabriel asked, but there was no need. In his heart he knew Jackson was dead. He couldn’t even do Madeline the justice of saving him. “Will no one stop this madness?” He met each set of eyes in the room. “These are practically children! They’re not demons! Let them go, and I promise you in time they’ll be no threat to the mortals.” The room swelled with Gabe’s frustration and Michael’s fury. More Bound gathered at the door.

  “What mars your judgment, Gabriel? How can you not see the evil in them? They pull mortals from their paths, rob them of their lives, their chance at everlasting love!”

  You hypocrite. He cloaked the thought without effort. Gabriel ripped his arm out of Michael’s grip and stumbled backward. His heel caught on an uneven board, and his tailbone screamed as he hit the floor, the wood buckling under his weight. Pain flared up his thigh and hip as he sunk into the hole, broken splinters ripping into his skin.

  Michael fell to his knees, his hand in Gabe’s. “Are you injured?”

  Without pausing, Michael helped him stand again. He gave his head a sad shake as if at a loss. “Gabriel, we’ve been patient,” he said, a timid glance skirting around to the others. “Take him to the Sider. He fulfills his promise or . . .”

  Rough hands drew him away as Michael trailed off. Gabriel swallowed his rage. You deserve everything coming to you, he thought.

  Earlier, Gabe had called the only person left who stood a chance at saving the Siders. He’d thought of Az, Jarrod, and Kristen waiting for him at the restaurant, of Eden and the rest in that one-room prison, trapped. Gabe had known the Bound wouldn’t give him another chance to walk away from Eden. And so he’d made the call to Luke.

  It had surprised him how quickly Luke had come up with a partial plan, almost as if he’d been expecting the call. Your role is small, Luke had told him. Tell me where the Bound are hiding out and, at the appointed time, create a diversion.

  There was a price, of course. Not trust or future favors. Instead, Luke had asked for something so simple, Gabe had known it must be a trick. And yet what choice had he but to agree? Only Luke knew the full details of the plot; the Bound wouldn’t be warned by any stray thoughts from the others.

  “Let me go!” Gabe yelled now, jerking violently enough to keep the attention of the cluster of angels surrounding him.

  Gabriel didn’t fight as they hauled him out of the room. He dragged his feet just enough to slow their progression for a few more seconds, and then gave in. He’d played his part and drawn the Bound away. Az and Jarrod should be hidden somewhere in the building by now.

  But as the Bound marched Gabe to the stairwell, a new fear took hold inside him.

  You can resist killing her, Gabe told himself as they walked him up the stairs to where they kept Eden. This can’t all be for nothing.

  CHAPTER 30

  Gabriel stuck to the shadows. He hadn’t seen Eden yet. The longer he stayed away from her, the better. He’d heard there were other Siders with her, but didn’t know who.

  “Have you seen Michael?” Gabriel inquired as he passed a cluster of Bound. A few pointed up, but no one was helpful enough to give a floor. Sunset cast orange hues through the glass atrium. Instead of heading into the stairwell he faded out, materializing on each floor until he heard Michael’s voice. In Gabriel’s ears, the dialect Michael fought so hard to keep pure only sounded strange and foreign. They’re losing me bit by bit. I’m not one of them. Again, that same thought, refusing to die.

  He forced himself to study the cracked plaster on the walls, the old lath board showing through. Two rooms down, he could see a light in the direction the voice was coming from. His stomach churned.

  Six angels lined the sides of a table with Michael at the head like some sort of high council. They were arguing when Michael spotted Gabriel on the threshold.

  The emotions tumbled across Michael’s face. “You’ve come back.”

  Gabriel fought not to react as six heads turned to stare. His eyes latched on to Michael’s, refusing to acknowledge the others. “I’ve come on my terms.”

  A rippled whisper passed through the room. Michael raised a hand for silence, bowing his head toward Gabriel a fraction of an inch, his smile hesitant. “Name them, sweet prince.”

  In that smile, Gabe saw their first kiss, a tentative peck Gabe had surprised himself by initiating. Just as it had then, his heart swelled with hope. Maybe he really will listen to me.

  Michael gave him a moment, waiting, before he swept the room with his eyes. “Leave us,” he demanded.

  “No!” Gabriel took a breath. “No, they need to hear this, too.”

  That same acquiescent nod. Anything you wish, it said.

  “The Siders,” Gabe said. “I want them released.”

  Michael’s face turned to stone. His world worked without shades of gray, only right and wrong. He was a zealot, unshakable in his beliefs. He would never change. Not even for me, Gabe thought. Which shouldn’t have hurt him.

  Inside Gabriel, everything went cold. The happy memories with Michael split open and spilled out what Gabriel hadn’t allowed himself to think of until now. Michael’s lips against his lips, those same lips against Gabe’s ear begging forgiveness after their last terrible fight. The shake started in Gabe’s hands, and then it was everywhere.

  “Their threat will cease. In such I trust. But what of your task, Gabriel?” he asked with false innocence. Michael leaned back casually, opened his mind enough for Gabe to catch one thought. By my side or beneath my sword, Gabriel. Without any warning, Michael was gone from the table and standing in front of him. “Shall I anticipate problems, or have you overcome your tremor of loyalty?” Michael said as he laid a hand on Gabriel’s cheek. He dragged a fingernail down his jaw, digging enough to take off a thin layer of skin.

  The air stung the trail where Michael had touched him. “My mind is settled,” Gabe said.

  “Well then . . .” The hand on Gabe’s shoulder clenched. “The death breather is being held on the seventh floor. Remedy your mistake now,” Michael said calmly.

  “I don’t know if I—” The fingers loosened and slipped from Gabe’s shoulder to his arm. Around him, the room was silent, the others watching. Not one interfered. More hovered near the doorway, drawn in by the raw emotion in the air. Still too few, Gabe thought, being sure to keep it scrambled. I need them all here. He raised his voice. “Spare them, Michael! Some part of you must know it’s the right thing to do.”

  Gabe gave no reasons, made no effort to back up his plea. The weakness of the argument clearly infuriated Michael. He leaned nearer to Gabe’s ear. “You are being an embarrassment. Executioner or executed,” he whispered before his voice grew loud enough for the others to hear. “We have not killed her because she awaits you. The other abomination we use to poison Downstairs. A third female is being evaluated.”

  The third must have been the Sider Az told him about at the restaurant, the one who turned Madeline mortal.

  “And the boy?” Gabriel asked, but there was no need. In his heart he knew Jackson was dead. He couldn’t even do Madeline the justice of saving him. “Will no one stop this madness?” He met each set of eyes in the room. “These are practically children! They’re not demons! Let them go, and I promise you in time they’ll be no threat to the mortals.” The room swelled with Gabe’s frustration and Michael’s fury. More Bound gathered at the door.

  “What mars your judgment, Gabriel? How can you not see the evil in them? They pull mortals from their paths, rob them of their lives, their chance at everlasting love!”

  You hypocrite. He cloaked the thought without effort. Gabriel ripped his arm out of Michael’s grip and stumbled backward. His heel caught on an uneven board, and his tailbone screamed as he hit the floor, the wood buckling under his weight. Pain flared up his thigh and hip as he sunk into the hole, broken splinters ripping into his skin.

  Michael fell to his knees, his hand in Gabe’
s. “Are you injured?”

  Without pausing, Michael helped him stand again. He gave his head a sad shake as if at a loss. “Gabriel, we’ve been patient,” he said, a timid glance skirting around to the others. “Take him to the Sider. He fulfills his promise or . . .”

  Rough hands drew him away as Michael trailed off. Gabriel swallowed his rage. You deserve everything coming to you, he thought.

  Earlier, Gabe had called the only person left who stood a chance at saving the Siders. He’d thought of Az, Jarrod, and Kristen waiting for him at the restaurant, of Eden and the rest in that one-room prison, trapped. Gabe had known the Bound wouldn’t give him another chance to walk away from Eden. And so he’d made the call to Luke.

  It had surprised him how quickly Luke had come up with a partial plan, almost as if he’d been expecting the call. Your role is small, Luke had told him. Tell me where the Bound are hiding out and, at the appointed time, create a diversion.

  There was a price, of course. Not trust or future favors. Instead, Luke had asked for something so simple, Gabe had known it must be a trick. And yet what choice had he but to agree? Only Luke knew the full details of the plot; the Bound wouldn’t be warned by any stray thoughts from the others.

  “Let me go!” Gabe yelled now, jerking violently enough to keep the attention of the cluster of angels surrounding him.

  Gabriel didn’t fight as they hauled him out of the room. He dragged his feet just enough to slow their progression for a few more seconds, and then gave in. He’d played his part and drawn the Bound away. Az and Jarrod should be hidden somewhere in the building by now.

  But as the Bound marched Gabe to the stairwell, a new fear took hold inside him.

  You can resist killing her, Gabe told himself as they walked him up the stairs to where they kept Eden. This can’t all be for nothing.