A Touch Mortal

by Leah Clifford

  He opened his mouth, but when nothing came out she hopped off the bed, crossing the room to him. Az stared at her, not sure what to say.

  “Did Gabe put you up to this?” she asked. She rolled her eyes as her fingers traced one of the feathers. “He’s that pissed that I kicked his ass in skeeball? I never figured you two for pranking types. Though this is beyond awesome.” She gave a joint of his left wing a hard squeeze. Az grimaced, knowing she felt the bones grinding. “Jesus. These things are, like, movie prop worthy.”

  She rounded his shoulder for a better look at his back and he knew it was over.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “You have holes in your back!”

  He nodded slowly. “The wings tuck in. Most times a sweatshirt is enough to hide them.”

  His anatomy had been rearranged, concave scoops on either side of a spine lined in muscles, where the wings attached inside. A thin layer of skin hid blood and bone along his rib cage.

  “Wings?” She took a step away, her voice shaking. “You were hiding wings?”

  “It’s not exactly something that goes in a personal ad, Eden. Enjoys long walks on the beach and sarcastic girls. Bird fetish a plus. Can I put them away now?” he whispered, his head hung low. When she didn’t answer, he contracted his shoulders, then folded the wings back in and grabbed for his shirt in a single motion. He put it on as he dropped onto the bed, and glanced up at her.

  “This is seriously happening, isn’t it?” Her eyes were wide, her head cocked as it finally hit her. Her face paled when he moved toward her. “Don’t come any closer!” He froze, but she stepped back anyway.

  “Eden, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  “Is that, like, an angel rule or something?” she asked, her breaths coming faster.

  Az winced. “No, it’s a boyfriend rule. Not all angels are good.”

  “Neither are all boyfriends.”

  “I used to be the good kind. Of angel,” he clarified. “Bound, like Gabriel. I got in trouble. The wings, they’re like probation.” He forced himself to stop the ramble and met her eyes.

  “Gabe too?” She took a shuddering breath, shaking her head. “No. No, I’ve seen Gabe with his shirt off. I’ve gone swimming with him.”

  Az nodded. “The Bound don’t have wings. Neither do the Fallen.” So Fall. Lose the wings and you’ll look normal enough for her to love you. Az squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, make them stop. The Fallen aren’t punished for love.

  He swallowed hard, lowering his hand to his pocket. “I understand. If you don’t love me anymore.” Look how worthless you are. He didn’t want to call Gabriel, not while he was at Kristen’s, but if it got any worse there would be no other choice.

  “I didn’t say that,” she said. She hadn’t left, hadn’t lost it. He forced his eyes open, concentrated on Eden, trying to gauge her reaction. Her expression still hovered somewhere between panic and disbelief, but she was holding her own. It didn’t guarantee she wouldn’t leave, but it was enough to push the darkest thoughts away.

  She stared at him for a long moment. “What’s green mean?”

  “Green?”

  “They’ve always been blue.” She lifted a finger to the corner of her eye. “If they go yellow when you’re scared, what’s green?”

  “Blue and yellow?” He tried out a smile. “Happy fear? Hope?”

  He watched as she struggled with herself before she slowly crossed the room. She sat on the bed with him, against the headboard, closer but still keeping her distance.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Does this change things?”

  She looked up at him, exasperated, drawing her knees to her chest. “Az, you’re telling me you’re an angel. This is either the most fucked-up day ever or I need to be locked in a psych ward. I’d say it changes things.”

  He scooted closer to her. “I meant…does it change us.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “You’ve had them the whole time, right?” He nodded, his heart in his throat as she seemed to consider. “Anything else you wanna get off your chest?”

  Az dropped his hands to hers. So much, he thought. “How are you okay with this?” he asked. It didn’t feel real. Her still being there.

  She pulled her hands away slowly. “I don’t know.” Her voice grew even quieter. “If I freak out and leave, I lose you. I don’t want that.” Her fingers found his again, entwining with them as their eyes met. “I want you. And if this is you, well…”

  He pulled her into his arms, the tension in his shoulders releasing as her arms wrapped around him. “I love you so much.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Ivy grew thick across the back of the house, the broken path across the yard lost under green tendrils. Gabriel didn’t bother hiding his presence, using his key to slip in the back door. It was an old servant’s entrance that opened to a narrow staircase. He didn’t turn on the light, his fingers finding the wall out of habit, using it to guide him.

  There was no sound in the stairway, nothing from the hall. One fluid movement took him into Kristen’s room. The door swung on well-oiled hinges, clicking quietly shut behind him.

  She didn’t look up when he entered, though he knew she was aware he’d arrived. He watched her for a moment, a long leg balanced on the edge of her vanity table as she painted her toenails a shade close to black. Finally, with a breath across the polish, she glanced up at the mirror, meeting his eyes through the reflection.

  “You haven’t been answering your phone,” she said, not turning to him. She capped the polish and dropped it into a drawer.

  “I came as soon as I could.”

  Kristen swiveled the chair toward him finally, her face indifferent. The quiver in her lip was so slight, he almost missed it.

  “Oh, Kristen,” he said quietly. He didn’t have to read her mind to guess her thoughts. “I should have called. Did you think I wasn’t coming?” She seemed to give in suddenly, forgetting the pedicure and hurrying across the floor to throw herself into his arms. He hugged her tight.

  “How’s my little black rain cloud?” he asked, pulling her back. The dress she wore was dirty, the antique fabric tattered and torn, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for Kristen. He’d half hoped that she’d been holding her own, even with her appearance. The room gave her away.

  On the top of the dresser were ten writing utensils. Lined up in a row, the pattern was simple enough, a pencil higher than the blue felt tip beside it, the marker after rising again, even with the pencil. Up, down, up, down across the polished wood. Iambic pentameter in pens. On her nightstand, the hair clips seemed random until he counted them. A row of five, of seven, of five again.

  “Kristen, haikus?” He cupped her chin in his hand. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You should have left a message! I would have come!” She started to speak but he shushed her, closing his eyes. He bowed his head, concentrating until he picked up her thoughts.

  At first, he only heard her fears…. came back this time but what if I’m too much of a burden and are the pencils straight think of something else so he doesn’t see how bad…A rush of poetry assaulted him, the lines and couplets screaming past his ears in stereo. He raised his hands to her shoulders, his eyes still shut tight.

  “Kristen,” he chided, then softened his tone. “You’re not a burden. Now let me fix it, okay?” He squeezed her shoulders. Under his fingers, she relaxed a bit, giving in. Every few weeks since he and Az found her, he wiped her mind clear. Saned her back to herself. It never held long; the roots of the disease had dug deep while she had been human. The residue of her schizophrenia slowly reclaimed her brain if left alone. He could only clean so much.

  A jumble of words and thoughts coated her brain like plaque, flaring knots of insanity wrapping tighter the longer he left the schizophrenia alone. He narrowed his focus, untangling the damaged threads of thought. He’d nearly finished when he came across the patch of static. They�
�d appeared suddenly last year, strands of white noise he couldn’t get rid of, as if they were operating on a different frequency. He’d thought at first that she was getting worse and the disease was progressing anyway, but they never spread.

  I should have been here, he thought. He swallowed, guilt tightening his throat, and pushed his own thoughts away. The volume skyrocketed, her mind opening to him, playing out like a song, the lines of static humming dully in the background.

  Steam poured from the crack of the door, though the shower had been off for ten minutes. Gabriel flipped though a magazine, the glossy pages sliding past unread.

  “You okay in there?” he called out. The door swung open in answer, the handle bouncing lightly against the wall. Kristen looked almost normal, save her sense of what passed for fashion. He eyed the black ball gown with distaste. “Look, I know you like to be different and all, but do you have to be so nineteen-forty-six debutante?”

  She ignored him, opening one of the dresser drawers, sweeping away the pens and markers. “Silly, really,” she said, turning to him. “Anyone with their wits about them would know Sharpies make for bad inspiration. No wonder I hardly wrote anything this week.”

  Gabriel tossed the magazine aside, pulling a pillow under his chin as he shifted to lie down on the bed. He ran the words through his head before saying them, trying to find the cadence to make them sound nonchalant. Of course, when he opened his mouth, they came out clipped and too quick. “I need to talk to you about where I was. Why you couldn’t get a hold of me.” The pause after was long enough to be theatrical. Kristen set the hairbrush down.

  She said his name, her voice unsure and faltering. Hidden between the syllables were the questions her pride wouldn’t allow her to ask. When she answered, though, all insecurities had dropped away.

  “Something serious?” The flash in her eyes dared him to attempt an excuse.

  “Az has a girl.” Kristen twisted to the mirror, pulling the brush through the tangled wreck of her hair.

  “Huh,” she mused to her reflection. “All this time I thought him celibate.” Gabriel shot her an impatient glare. “I hardly see how this is relevant to me.”

  “She’s Pathless,” he finished. “She’s one of your kind. Or will be.”

  She silently brushed blush over her cheekbones. “So Az thinks, what? She’ll go Sider and they’ll skip off into the sunset for fuck’s sake?” Kristen’s jaw tightened. She went back to the mirror, pulling her eyelid taut, smearing kohl liner with an expert hand.

  “This girl, Eden, she’s good for him. He’s doing better than he has in centuries. He’s hardly struggled against the Fall since he met her.” Gabriel closed his eyes, blotting out the distraction of the room, the collection of top hats shelved above the mirror. “I want you to take her in after she changes. Keep her safe until we figure things out.” He opened his eyes. A slow crescent chiseled its way onto Kristen’s lips.

  “We’re nearly immortal, Gabriel. You know that.” Her brown eyes already glittered from his unintentional slip. “Keep her safe from what, exactly?”

  Gabriel glanced away. “Luke.”

  “I do recall you mentioning how he enjoys ripping apart Az’s love life.” She lined her other eye and tossed the pencil back into the drawer. “Last one was straight down the middle, right?”

  “Really, Kristen?” Gabriel’s eyes flashed maroon and Kristen dropped her gaze, rummaging through her makeup drawer. “When she does go Sider, I want her in the best hands. Ones on the right side. You are the best hands, Kristen.”

  “Of course I am.” Kicking a foot up, she shoved off the vanity. The chair hurdled across the floor, past her wall of filing cabinets, carrying Kristen to where it collided against the bed. She leaned closer. “And the best,” she said, her words humming against his ear, “do not babysit.”

  She pulled back, giving the chair a lazy spin. The black taffeta of her dress bloomed around her, made her look almost innocent until she opened her mouth. “Dump her in Queens.”

  “With Madeline?” Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “Now you’re just being cruel.”

  Kristen’s hands plunged down into the folds of the dress, her head cocking incredulously. “And you’re being selfish. You’re asking me to put myself and every Sider in this house at risk in exchange for what, flattery?”

  “What risk?” Gabriel argued. “It’s not like he’ll be searching her out. Luke won’t even know she’s a Sider. All I’m asking is that you give her a place to stay, teach her what she needs to know.”

  Kristen tapped her finger against her lips.

  “Just as long as it takes for her to get a handle on how things work for your kind. Come on, Kristen. We both know Madeline’s loyalties tend toward the Fallen. I don’t know the others well enough to trust them with something this important to me. You’re the only one I trust.”

  She sighed dramatically, but a glint of satisfaction found its way to her eyes.

  Gabriel slid around her, standing, his head dipped in apology. “Maybe you’re right. I was wrong to think you’d be up to the challenge, what with all your Bronx minions to keep watch over.” It was all he could do to keep the smirk off his lips. Twisting the babysitting comment against her had her face nearly purple. “I know how much you hate doing things out of the kindness of your heart….” He trailed off, waiting.

  “It’s not that I don’t like to. It’s just there’s not much kindness in there. I save it for special occasions.” She dropped her foot over one of the armrests, letting it swing for a moment. “And what if the Fallen figure out she’s with Az? If they come after her here—”

  “Luke doesn’t know she’s going to be a Sider. Hopefully, he never will. Right now, he’s looking for a mortal, but Eden won’t be one much longer.”

  Kristen dropped her head back, staring at the ceiling. “This would be such an inconvenience.”

  Gabriel held his breath.

  Finally she lifted her head. “Well then, I suppose we have quite a bit of work ahead of us.” She smiled at his confusion. “Special occasions require a party.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Being Bound had its advantages. First off, faster travel options. Sometimes he pitied Az, having to take the subway when he wanted to get around.

  Gabriel materialized in the doorway of a closed shop he’d scouted out earlier, in a quiet neighborhood just down the street from the hotel he and Az had made home. The crowds had thinned. The prospect of a few minutes to himself was more than Gabriel could resist. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Az answered on the second ring.

  “It’s taken care of,” Gabriel said.

  “Already? You on your way back here?”

  “No. Think I’m gonna head down to the beach.”

  Boots scraped against the asphalt behind him. Gabriel fell silent, concentrating. Someone was there, walking in the road, instead of on the sidewalk. The sound traveled well in the stillness.

  “You there?” Az asked. Gabriel didn’t answer. Luke had worn the same style of boots, all zippers and buckles, long enough for Gabriel to recognize the distinctive sound.

  “Is she with you?” Gabriel whispered, trying to keep the urgency from his voice, avoiding Eden’s name in case he was overheard.

  “No, I walked her home half an hour ago. Why?”

  “Call her. Make sure she’s there. Do not come outside.” He snapped the phone shut without elaborating. “Spectacular,” he muttered.

  Luke made no effort to soften his steps. Gabriel did his part in return, slowing enough to allow him to catch up. It was best to get the little tête-à-tête over with.

  For a long minute, neither of them spoke, walking side by side. Finally, just before the street merged into the main road, Gabriel gave in, flashing him a glare.

  “Gabriel!” Luke cried, bursting into a grin so wide it gouged his cheekbones. “My my my! It’s been ages, hasn’t it? So tell me…” The grin fell away, his eyes reflecting maroon in the diffused glow of the streetl
ights. “What exactly brings you to the neighborhood?”

  Gabriel gave him a once-over. “Vacation.” In a dream world, Luke would have laughed and left it at that, the two of them just passing strangers in the night. Unfortunately, the Fallen were more nightmare than dream. From the look of him, Luke was still playing gigs in dingy bars. Still partial to the cheesy Jim Morrison look he had when Gabriel had seen him last. He’d even grown his hair out for the part, long black curls dangling below his collar.

  “And is this a working vacation?” Luke probed. He leaned against the railing of the boardwalk, his tight leather pants creaking as he adjusted his stance. They’d played the game hundreds of times. Luke would have his questions, knowing the Bound couldn’t lie. He lifted his jaw in the direction of the hotel. “If you have some free time, maybe I’ll stop by.” Gabriel’s heart sank at the satisfied smile. Luke never bluffed.

  The question now was how long he’d been onto them. What he had seen.

  “Are we done here?” Gabriel turned, heading back toward the hotel, not bothering to conceal his destination.

  “I really have been bad about keeping in touch,” Luke called after him. “I owe Az a visit, don’t I?”

  “Stay away from Az, Luke. I mean it.”

  “Still trying to save your lost little lamb?”

  Gabriel paused, turning back toward him. “He might not be ready yet, but one day he will be. He’ll use the wings. He’ll come home.”

  “I beg to differ. Which reminds me, tell him I approve of this latest girl. She’s quite pretty, don’t you think?” Luke pushed off the railing, covering the ground Gabriel had put between them in a lazy stroll and moving past. Just before he turned onto the quiet side street, Luke spun back. “She looks like a fighter. And they’re so much more fun to break.”

  Gabriel stumbled back to the hotel, the elevator ride passing in a blur. Az had been strong enough to keep from choosing a side so far, but if Luke got a hold of Eden, tortured her, it would be the catalyst to set off his Fall. Az opened the door before Gabriel could use his key.