“I run this realm when the end times come to the mortals. The end times come with the Pathless ones.”
“What, so the Siders are ending the world?” Jarrod said, and regretted it instantly. Michael’s attention shifted to him and revulsion overtook his face.
“Don’t even think about it, Michael.” Az jumped in front, shoving Jarrod back. He had a hand on Michael’s chest.
“I can bring you back to glory before we burn this world,” Michael whispered.
“You can’t kill the Siders.”
“We learn.” Michael laughed, a wicked, dead drone. “Even now we watch one.”
Az’s jaw clenched. “Stay the fuck away from Eden.”
Michael edged closer. “The first strains of death claim your whore.”
Az tipped forward, fists gripped tight at his sides. Jarrod tensed, expecting him to throw a punch at Michael, but suddenly Az’s face paled. “She’s not dying. She can’t.”
“Such emotion! Is it because you’ve witnessed the malady yourself? The truth burns your anger so bright.” The laugh came again, and Jarrod shivered. “You falter. Choose Upstairs, Azazel.”
“I choose to stay here.” Az’s voice was hard. Jarrod kept his eyes on him, didn’t want to look at the other one.
“Use the wings!” Michael spat, drawing closer to Az.
“Never!” Az bellowed. Crackling sparks shot between his lips.
A low electrical hiss drifted out of him.
Jarrod knew the sound. It was the same noise he’d heard at the apartment when Az’s eyes went all white, right before the chittering started. Az opened his mouth, eyes rolled up a quarter of the way. They didn’t look right, like he was possessed.
Michael’s eyes had blanked out like hard-boiled eggs, light shining from inside them until they glowed, the shine seeping from his nostrils, flickering across the curls hanging over his ears. Az jerked as if he tried to pull away and couldn’t. A bulge ran down his back, fabric ripping. The wings, Jarrod thought.
“No!” Jarrod yelled. “He’s not yours!” He leaped, knocking Az over. A jolt of electricity shot up Jarrod’s arm, slammed the air from his lungs.
Az broke the trance and pushed Jarrod away. “Door. Run. Go!”
Each word came out more desperate than the last. Jarrod ran straight into Sullivan and the three of them barreled out the door, yanking it closed behind them. Az tripped and plowed shoulder first into threadbare carpet covering the concrete floor of the building’s entrance. He rolled up to a sitting position with a hiss, holding his arm as he struggled to his feet.
Sullivan’s eyes were unfocused. Jarrod stood in front of her, but her gaze went right through him. He thought of the story of her reaction to Vaughn telling her about being a Sider. Completely catatonic, she’d said.
“Move,” Az demanded. He didn’t even bother talking to her, grabbed one of her hands and threw her over his hurt shoulder. “We gotta go.”
Az carried Sullivan down the street, took a side street and then another, twisting their route until they were only a few blocks away from home. “Call Eden. Tell her to meet us, door open.” He hoisted Sullivan’s deadweight, groaning as he adjusted her.
Jarrod took out his phone but didn’t put the call through. “Az, is something wrong with Eden?”
He spun to Jarrod. “Of course not. He was bluffing, trying to mess with my head. But look,” he said, his eyes downcast. “When we tell her what happened, we’re gonna leave that whole last part out, okay? She worries enough anyway.”
Jarrod didn’t look at him, kept walking. “Eden and I don’t do secrets.”
“And normally no secrets is great,” Az said, licking his lips. “But it’s not going to do her any good to be worrying about some stupid lies of Michael’s. Right?” He grabbed Jarrod’s arm, pulled him to a stop. “Right, Jarrod?” Az said again.
Sullivan gave a soft sob. Jarrod brushed her hair back from her clammy skin. Her lips moved in repetitive motions, eyes wide and unblinking. Jarrod leaned closer to hear. It took him a second to make out her whispers: “He was on fire inside his head. Inside his head. I saw God. I saw God in his eyes.”
Her lips were still going, but her voice faded away. Jarrod cast a glance behind them, but there was no sign of Michael.
“You should call Eden. Sullivan’s not doing good, Jarrod. And I wouldn’t get Eden all upset if you’re planning on showing up with her like this.”
“Right,” Jarrod whispered as he hit Send. Right before the call connected, it hit him. Why Az looked so worried. “Michael was just lying anyway.”
“Exactly,” Az said, his voice full of relief. He hoisted Sullivan against him.
Lying. Except lying wasn’t something the Bound could do.
CHAPTER 21
Behind Eden, in her bed, Sullivan lay flat. Her breaths had evened out from the erratic gasps she was making when Jarrod had first brought her in, but she wasn’t responding much. Eden could hear Jarrod’s murmurs to her, though they were too low for her to make out the actual words.
Eden stared out the window of her bedroom. The gloomy storm clouds had finally ditched their haul, tossing down fat, wet flakes for the past hour or so. She’d been watching them get slammed against the red brick of the building beside theirs, caught up in the draft.
Her breath steamed an oval, and she drew a sharp lightning bolt through the center. Michael. He’d been there at the apartment, terrifying enough that he’d fried Sullivan’s brain something fierce. But Jarrod is okay. Az is safe. She smeared away the fog on the window. Lucky, she thought. Incredibly lucky.
Mostly.
Twice Sullivan had called out and then faded back into that zombified state. Each time left Jarrod looking broken and sick.
She turned from the window. Jarrod stared down at Sullivan, the seconds ticking by, wasted. And then an idea broke across his face. Eden saw it, knew he’d thought of something but was second-guessing it.
“Whatever it is, you should try it. She’s not getting any better.”
He flicked his eyes to Eden and away, as if embarrassed.
She thought for sure he’d shake the girl, rattle her brains back into place. Instead, he ground one of his shoes against the other and slipped out of it, did the same with the second one. He folded the covers all the way down.
Sullivan balled up the second the air hit her. Jarrod didn’t hesitate, climbed onto the bed, over her. Eden couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the girl relax a bit.
“What’re you doing?” Eden asked, but he ignored her, closed his eyes.
“Sullivan, it’s Jarrod.” He scooted even closer and curled up against her back. “You’ve gotta snap out of this, okay? We’ve got…” He hesitated as if remembering Eden was in the room. His voice lowered. “It’s snowing. You should see how beautiful it is. You should open your eyes.”
For a long moment nothing happened, and then Sullivan uncurled a hand and reached behind her to find Jarrod’s gloved fingers. “His eyes were glowing,” she said softly.
Jarrod nodded against her shoulder.
“What was he?”
“An angel,” Jarrod answered. “The real kind.”
Eden took a silent step back toward the window, not wanting to startle her, letting them talk. She wondered how far Jarrod would push it, how much he would tell. Sullivan’s shoulders tensed up, but Jarrod’s hands were there a second later, massaging.
Eden waited to hear Sullivan argue it, but she didn’t, seemed to accept it as Eden watched, fascinated.
“Are you an angel, too?” Sullivan asked. “Is that what the Siders are?”
“No.”
Eden looked up at the sound of the door opening.
Az surveyed the scene from the threshold and crossed the room to Sullivan. “Hey! Back with us?”
Sullivan gave him a small smile. “Thank you for carrying me.”
She sat up and slid off the edge of the bed. Az offered a hand to help her up. “Think nothing of it.”<
br />
Suddenly she froze, her hand in his, held above her head. Her grin disintegrated. “You have no gloves. No gloves.”
“Shit,” Jarrod yelled even before he jumped off the bed. Az yanked away, giving her space.
Sullivan backed into the corner like a frightened animal. “Touching me. They were always touching me. Too much.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, sinking to the floor. Jarrod dropped beside her and grabbed her at the wrists with gloved hands.
“Sullivan, no. Look at me, okay?” She listened, focusing on him, but the low murmur of her words didn’t stop. “Hey!” he yelled.
She froze.
“Az can’t pass you Touch.”
“What?” she whispered.
“He can’t pass you Touch. He’s not like me and Eden.”
She sucked in a breath, drew up her knees as she looked at Az. “You’re like the glowing one, aren’t you?”
“Not entirely,” Az managed. He held out his hands as if it would be some reassurance.
Jarrod turned her head toward him. “You trust me, right?” She nodded. “I promise you Az won’t hurt you. He’s a good guy.” Jarrod perked up. “He’s got wings! Big ones.” He turned to Az. “Will you show her?”
“Jarrod!” Eden admonished. She glanced at Az to get his reaction. “Are you sure this is a good idea right now?”
Jarrod glanced at Sullivan, looked back to Az. “Sullivan’s almost as good at keeping secrets as I am.” Eden couldn’t understand the sudden tension between them. “Show her,” Jarrod said, a slight command in his tone.
Az pulled his shirt off, crumpled it in a tight ball, and stood there awkwardly. He hated the wings, kept them hidden most of the time, but she thought they were beautiful. He cleared his throat. His eyes were on Sullivan, gauging her reaction as he unwound the ace bandage from his chest. Eden waited, a little thrill of anticipation winding through her. Slowly, the tip of his right wing peeked out. The girl looked up at him in shock and slowly got to her feet.
“I mean, I thought knowing about Siders was messed up, but this is…” Sullivan stepped slowly forward, her hand held out. “Can I?”
Az let out an embarrassed laugh. “I guess so?”
And then she was touching them, touching the feathers on Az’s wing, the fear gone from her eyes. “That’s just crazy!” Sullivan said, turning excitedly to Jarrod.
When their eyes connected her smile widened, though she shied. “It’s not going to get me in trouble to say I still like my angels in the snow?”
Az shrugged and shot Eden a bemused look. She didn’t return it, watching as Jarrod’s lips skipped across Sullivan’s neck tentatively, up her jaw, and met her mouth. Jarrod and Sullivan shared a breath, lips pressed together in a way Eden would never feel with Az. If she ever dared, gave in, her kiss would be what drove him to Fall. Her lips would ruin him.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Eden managed as she pushed past them. She broke out into the hall.
“Is she okay?” she heard Sullivan ask.
Az answered. “Will you guys be all right?”
And she knew he was coming after her. She headed to the kitchen and threw herself into one of the chairs, blinking furiously. I’m not going to cry, she promised herself, lips pressed together in a tight frown.
“What’s wrong?” Az asked, rounding the corner into the kitchen. His shirt was still off, his abs movie star worthy, and he was gorgeous and special and hers, and before she knew what was happening the first of her tears had already fallen.
“I’m just tired.” She couldn’t look at him. She laid her forehead on the table so she wouldn’t have to.
“That’s it?” Az wrapped her up in his arms from behind and the touch of him, the smell of him, his skin against her, made it so much worse. A sob broke out of her.
“He kissed her. He could kiss her all the time if he wants!” she cried, wiping furiously at her face.
“What does it matter who he kisses?” Az asked.
“Because he can. He can kiss her. They can sleep in the same bed. She doesn’t have to worry about one wrong brush from her mouth while she sleeps taking him away.” She struck out, knocking the napkin holder off the table. It clattered into the living room, and she instantly felt childish for her outburst. “Most of the time I’m okay, I can deal with the trade-off. But sometimes I want you so bad it hurts,” she whispered.
His mouth found the nape of her neck, his lips soft on her skin, but it wasn’t enough.
“Don’t.”
He didn’t listen, unwrapping his arms from her, his kisses growing more desperate as he made his way down to her shoulder, across it. She gasped as he yanked her chair around to face him, slid himself on top of her lap, straddling her.
“Az, we can’t.”
He cupped his hand across the back of her head, his eyes solemn. He pulled her closer, kissed a slow line down her temple. Her breath caught when his tongue flicked across the hollow at the base of her neck. “Of course we can.”
She felt him smile against her skin.
“Is it about the danger?” he asked, transforming his voice into a sexy growl. “You’re afraid?”
He lifted his head slightly, and for a moment she was afraid. That her lips were too close to be safe.
“Stop it!” She pushed him hard enough that the chair almost tumbled over with the two of them in it. “Get off me.”
“Give me a second!” Az untangled himself from her, climbing off looking abashed. “What the hell, Eden?”
She knocked the chair back as she stood.
“I could kill you. One kiss.” She sounded out each word. “Without Gabe, I’ll be the reason you Fall. The Bound are here. Luke is here. How much longer before they find me? Take you away? The danger of it’s supposed to turn me on? Fuck off, Az.”
“Where’s this coming from?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“You keep acting like you’re fine without Gabe. I don’t know what’s worse, that you could abandon him so quickly or that you actually believe you’re gonna make it without him. You’re lying to me again. You promised you wouldn’t.” Her shoulders slumped. “Is this what you’re like without him?”
She looked up when he didn’t say anything. He stood stock-still, then broke and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. He filled it at the faucet and took a long draught. When he’d finished, he dropped his hands to the counter, leaning against it with his head down. “Gabe made his choices long before we ended up on that roof, Eden. They were his to make.”
She shook her head. “If I hadn’t kissed you that day, Luke wouldn’t have taken you, and Gabe wouldn’t have Fallen, and everything would be fine. You can’t make it without him, Az.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he said gently. He lifted a hand to her cheek. “Gabe can only do so much. I love you, Eden. It’s you who keeps me here, makes me want to stay. You.” Az moved his hands to her shoulders. “Don’t you get that? I’m trying to do what’s right by everyone, and it’s screwing everything up. Madeline was Gabe’s secret to keep. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
She didn’t answer.
“I was in a basement for hours before Luke took me up to the roof.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Eden broke in, but he didn’t stop.
“Every minute hurt worse and this voice in my ear, the whole time it kept whispering how easy it would be to Fall, how the pain would go away. Hour after hour,” he said, stroking her shoulder softly with each word. “But I wouldn’t listen. Because I knew no matter how much it hurt, it would hurt you more if I gave in.”
She sniffled.
“Gabe had nothing to do with me making it through that day, Eden. It was you. It’s still you. It’s always going to be you.” Her hand rested against his chest, his heart beating strong under her fingers. “If I made it through that day on the roof, I can make it through anything else. They can pressure me, they can try to sway me, but I’d never choose to leave you. Gabe knew tha
t. He’s counting on it.”
She traced his breastbone down. “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”
“Personally, I think we got the better deal.” Fingertips stole under the back of her shirt, followed either side of her spine up. His hands wandered from her shoulders to her chest and then her hips, teasing her closer. “Jarrod can’t touch Sullivan.”
Eden paused. He was right. She looked down at her hand on Az’s chest, the feel of his skin under her bare fingertips. She and Az could have contact all the time, constantly.
He tightened his grip on her, bending back to lift her off her feet, and twirled her in a slow circle. She giggled. It felt silly, laughing in the kitchen with her face all splotchy and tears still drying on her cheeks.
And then Az’s smile faded. The fingers that had explored her skin with such need were tentative as he touched her cheek.
“What is it?” she asked, not quite wanting to know, to let go of the moment.
“It’s nothing,” he said, moving his hand down, but she grabbed it. He wouldn’t look at her as she pulled it back up.
The tips of his fingers were flecked black.
CHAPTER 22
Cold night air. Gabe’s skin was slick so the chill felt good, almost sinful. In the distance, a drunken laugh rang out. From closer came a choked moan. Gabe’s hands cramped.
Fingers clawed at his, weakly.
Sweat coursed off him. Between his fingers, flesh. He squeezed tighter. A death at my hands. A dreamy smile drifted over his lips.
“Stop.” A hand touched his shoulder. “You need to stop.”
He winced. Shook his head. Can’t stop.
Everything fell away, foggy, and then…
Sudden awareness snapped through him. He gasped, yanked away from the boy’s neck, and stumbled.
“Oh fuck,” Gabe whispered. He watched horrified as the boy swayed, then dropped like a stone. His head hit against the building on the way down.
“Gabe?” He whipped around, panic seizing him. The girl behind him was a stranger. She interrupted. A petite little thing. Needs to be taught a lesson. He froze at the dark skitters threatening to overwhelm him, the punishments he’d dole out. She knows your name. She has to die. She knows your name.
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