The Siders Box Set

by Leah Clifford

  “Clearly you’ve given this some thought,” Madeline said, sounding impressed. “The problem is—” She hesitated for effect and Eden rolled her eyes. “Why would he be on the street if he could kill someone for their wallet and sleep in a cushy bed?”

  Eden exhaled an angry cloud. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “You don’t know the Fallen. They con, Eden. They steal and trick and deceive. They want for nothing.”

  “You said you heard there were complications, though.” Eden gave her a sidelong glance. “Gabe—”

  “Is one of the Fallen now. Stop pretending he’s not.” She shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her tailored jacket. “Besides,” she said, throwing a hand into the air to hail them a cab. “I’ll be damned if I’m traipsing into every cracked-out hovel in the city.”

  Eden ducked into an upscale restaurant, edging past the hostess with a gesture at an imaginary table in the far corner of the room. She scanned the patrons and mimicked every glare from the high-society bitches around her.

  After two hours of what felt a hell of a lot like aimless wandering through Soho, it was becoming clear that Madeline’s intel wasn’t as accurate as she’d made them out to be in the cab.

  Eden ignored snickers at her clothes as she completed her loop.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” the hostess snipped. Madeline stood beside her unbothered, fitting in flawlessly. Eden didn’t have the energy to work up a snarky reply.

  “Where to next?” Madeline asked before she opened the door and headed into the cold.

  Eden followed without answering. When she and Az went out searching, she could almost feel Gabe around each corner, just out of sight, the premonition strong enough to quicken her steps. But with Madeline, there was nothing.

  “He’s not here,” Eden said, defeated. “He’s not anywhere.” She eyed a small Thai place as they walked past, but the fight had gone out of her. She didn’t go in. She’d hoped. Really hoped this would be the time they’d find him.

  “Giving up so soon?”

  Eden’s head snapped up at the amusement in Madeline’s tone. A trickle of unease crept up her spine.

  “It’s starting to feel like a bit of a wild goose chase,” Eden said. She’d called Madeline, hoping she’d help her find Gabe, that the incentive of having Vaughn killed would push Madeline. But with the boredom, the half-hearted attempts at describing Gabe to doormen and waiters while Eden grilled for answers—it almost seemed as if Madeline weren’t really searching at all. “It’s starting to feel like you only wanted me away from the apartment.”

  Madeline raised an eyebrow at the accusation. But then the twinkle in her eye caught fire. A devilish grin spread across her face.

  “What did you do?” Eden demanded.

  Madeline shrugged innocently. “Nothing,” she said slowly, drawing out the word.

  Eden backed away from her down the sidewalk, stumbling as she bumped into people. Someone shoved her aside. She tugged the phone from her pocket with a shaking hand, only let her eyes flick away from Madeline’s long enough the cue up Az’s cell. “If you’ve hurt them, I’ll end you. I swear to God.”

  The smile dropped from Madeline’s face. “Has anyone ever told you that you have serious trust issues?” she shouted as she covered the space Eden had put between them. “Az and Jarrod are home, safe and sleeping.”

  Eden glanced up. “I have no reason to believe you.”

  Her thumb moved to hit send.

  “Wait.” Madeline lifted a finger. “How furious will Az be that you aren’t home?” She dug into her coat pocket, pulled out her own phone and handed it to Eden. “He’s fine. So is Jarrod.”

  On Madeline’s display was a list of text messages, the same one sent every fifteen minutes they’d been out. ‘Apt entrance clear. No lights.’

  “They’re safe and sleeping, Eden.” Madeline took the phone back gently.

  “You have someone watching?” Eden asked. Her voice wavered, angry and uncertain, knowing how easily Madeline could have had someone send her the texts. They meant nothing. Madeline nodded. “Is there some plan you know about? Is that why you’re having them… protected? And why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you wouldn’t see it as me being thoughtful.” She lifted a shoulder with a half-smile and then sighed when Eden didn’t react. “I was flattered when you asked me to help you look for Gabe and I didn’t want something to happen to your boys while you were gone. I know they mean a lot to you.”

  Eden ignored the attempt at buttering her up. “You’re not really looking for Gabe though. You’re going through the motions.”

  Madeline nodded slowly as if considering it, not answering. “You told me I had to find him before you’d help with Vaughn.” She turned to Eden. “I’m asking you to reconsider. Gabe’s not meant to be found.”

  “Not a chance,” Eden said instantly. She headed toward the subway entrance they’d passed a block ago. “I’m going home. Call off your goons.”

  “Stop!” Madeline said with a laugh. “You’re overreacting. Let me call you a cab. On me.” Madeline gave her a sad smile when she turned around, and then stepped to the curb, her arm raised. When the car pulled up, Madeline gave Eden’s address and handed over cash. “You make it very difficult to be your friend, Eden.”

  “I don’t need friends.” Eden ripped open the door of the cab and slid in. “One second,” she said to the driver before rolling down the window. “What were you going to say earlier today. Before Az got bad? You said Gabe wasn’t on a bloody rampage. How did you know that?”

  Madeline twirled the end of her scarf. “Luke told me,” she said simply.

  “You said ‘last time I saw him.’ It was Luke you were talking about right?”

  Madeline snorted. “No, I know exactly where Gabe is. I completely love gallivanting around the city with you so I figured I’d keep it to myself.” She shook her head. “Eden, not everyone’s out to get you.”

  Eden stared at her for a moment. “Az and I ran into one of the Bound,” Eden blurted. “He had that same angel look. You’ll know him if you see him.”

  Madeline’s smile tumbled from her cheeks. “That’s no good,” she said. “Was it after Az or you?”

  “Az,” Eden replied. “But it definitely knew what I was. Be careful.”

  Madeline gave a curt nod. “Thank you.”

  She tapped her hand against the roof of the cab. As it drove off, Eden couldn’t help but turn back, the second time today she’d seen Madeline from a rear window. Both times she’d been doing something decent to help. Still, Eden had a long way to go before she trusted her.

  Chapter 10

  Kristen felt her face flush and tossed the covers aside. Underneath, she wore yesterday’s dress. She’d come home without a word to anyone, curled up in bed and let the night slide by in unanswered attempts to call Gabe.

  The whispers had started an hour ago, minutes after Sebastian had popped his head in to check on her. She could hear the idle gossip, coming from the room next door. She stayed in bed, telling herself to ignore it, that they could have their talk. But as morning waned so did her patience, their words growing harsher, brazenly disrespectful.

  You know she's losing her mind, right? But really, nobody's surprised.

  Her attention rose to the air duct near the ceiling. She slid the chair out from where it sat in front of her vanity, dragged it against the wall and climbed onto the seat. Her fingers stretched for the lever that would shut the vent, cut off the metallic voices, their whispers invading her room.

  If they'd known she heard them, they'd be terrified of her wrath. Episode or not, it was still her home they stayed in, her they depended on for survival.

  But confronting them meant she’d have to address the rumors. Without sleep, her brain felt sluggish, too slow to come up with the lies she’d need.

  That she was fine. In control.

  Kristen slipped a finger behind the tiny lever, kn
ocking it forward to snap the vent shut.

  I heard she used to live in a cemetery. What a freak.

  Kristen froze. They couldn't know that. Couldn't.

  She stood on her tiptoes, bringing her ear closer to the vent. Only Gabe knew about her past. Or so she'd thought.

  I heard she has worse secrets. Kristen startled, confused as the voice dropped, darker and breathless. Ones about the bad angels.

  Her foot slid back in reflex. For a second her toes caught on the edge of the seat, pain searing through her foot. She slammed onto the ground and her elbow struck the hardwood, smarting. No. No. They couldn't know about Luke.

  She hobbled to the door, jerking it open. She'd burn confessions from their lips. The door to the next room was closed. She turned the knob.

  “You wicked little gossips!” she shrieked, her eyes flashing left to right. “You know nothing.”

  Silence slumped in every corner as if to mock her. The room held a bed, a dresser, a closet, opened and empty. Unoccupied.

  Or so it seemed. They were there, had to be there. She'd heard them.

  “You want to play games? We can play games.” She dropped to the floor, eyes sweeping under the bed. Nothing.

  She'll never find us. Her gaze snapped up. They were still in there. Shhh shh! a girl's voice hissed and the quiet fell thick as wet snow. Kristen could feel the heavy weight, building on her shoulders.

  “You will be so very sorry when I find you,” she promised. The pressure lifted a bit with her words. “Do you know what I do all day alone in my room? I plot your punishments. You're all so weak and disorganized. There's no order unless I give it to you.”

  A giggle erupted around her.

  Look at her. She looks like a crazy person.

  “I am not crazy.” Tears burned against her lashes and the laugh sounded again, this time from the hall. She glided out the door, cautious and silent. She needed to hear where they were. Find them. Break them into tiny pieces. Her eyes roamed the walls, trying to pinpoint a location.

  Where are we, Kristen. Why can't you find us? Don't you delight in a good game of hide and seek? the voice lilted, the teasing tone mocking her in an impression of her own.

  “You stop this. You stop this now!” They had to be in the ducts.

  Down the hall a door opened. Her hand shot up, pointing though she kept her eyes glued to the vents. “Get back into your room. This is none of your business.”

  The door closed quickly.

  “You see?” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper so they wouldn't be overheard. “That's control. I'm admired. I'm strong. I keep you all safe. Safe and free from the chaos and this is how you treat me?”

  Do you think we should tell her? one voice asked the other. She was closing in on them. She has to know. Kristen took a tentative step, her head rocked to the side.

  Could she really be that far gone?

  Well, the other voice answered. She lost her guardian angel. He carried her mind with him.

  “Don't listen,” Kristen whispered to herself. “Concentrate.”

  Look at her. She's ranting at the walls. Kristen's foot faltered, frozen midair. They were right. If Sebastian found her like this he’d think something was wrong. She thinks there are people in the vents. The smile faded from Kristen's lips. When the voice spoke again it didn't come from the vent. Not from the walls. Not down the hall.

  I think she figured out where we are, it whispered. Directly in her ear.

  Kristen ran.

  Chapter 11

  Eden stared, bleary-eyed, down at the package sitting in the hall, over the threshold of the open door to the apartment. Her name and address were scrawled across the plain brown paper, which couldn’t be right. She blinked to cast away the fog in her brain. She’d made into bed without waking Az or Jarrod last night, but the buzz of sneaking out of the apartment and then back in had robbed her of any hope of sleep. When she focused again, the package was still there.

  She shot a quick glance over her shoulder. Az was still in the kitchen. She could hear Jarrod’s shower running.

  A foot square box wasn’t the oddest thing to show up in her doorway, but it made the least sense. Eden and Jarrod didn’t normally get mail outside of the occasional junk pamphlets for Occupant. The only personally addressed mail went to the name on the lease—Adam.

  Eden’s eyes were on the package, but her thoughts stayed on Adam. He’d been her partner even before Jarrod had joined their group, been more than that before Az had come back into her life.

  “What’re you doing?” Az grabbed her shoulder, startling her. When she didn’t answer he moved forward, leaning against her, his presence bringing her comfort. She wasn’t prepared for the edge in his voice. “When did that get here?”

  “I heard a knock,” she said finally. “It was sitting here when I opened the door.”

  “Well,” Az teased, “that is typically how the mail gets delivered. Next step is to bring it inside. Advanced lessons include opening.”

  If she hadn’t known him better, the sarcasm would have been enough to have her discounting what seemed to be a tinge of fear in his tone. After last night with the Bound though, his overly carefree act wasn’t working. Something was off. Why’s he unnerved? He made a move to grab the box, but she beat him to it.

  “And who exactly would be mailing us anything?” she asked pointedly.

  “Kristen?” Az offered but another name took root in Eden’s mind.

  “Gabe.” Eden ripped off the brown paper and slit the tape with her fingernail. She pawed away the cardboard flap.

  Bits of shredded paper fell out. She thought about digging through but wasn’t exactly eager about sticking her hand into a mysterious box, contents unknown. Instead, she crossed the room and sat down on the couch.

  Az crossed his arms, standing beside her.

  Carefully, she overturned it onto the coffee table. She poked the tangled strands of newsprint aside. Her fingernail tinked against something glass. Nestled in the center of the mess of paper was a glass vial, capped at the top.

  She looked up at Az, uncertain.

  “Weird,” she said, lifting it up to the light. “Is that dirt?” Inside were chalky looking gray flakes, most of them disintegrated down to a fine powder that filled the tube halfway. Eden’s heart sped up. “Oh God, it’s ashes.”

  Az snatched the vial from her. He flipped over the dangling piece of brown paper with the address on it. “No return, but it’s not like we need it.” Eden raised an eyebrow, not following. “Luke’s way of saying hello. Making sure you remember him.”

  When Eden had taken out Siders, her breath had left them nothing more than ashes. Whoever had sent it knew what Eden could do. The question was intent. Was the package sent to taunt her, because she wouldn’t kill the Siders anymore? Was it some sort of threat?

  She took the tube from him, staring at it for a moment before she set it down on the table and wandered to the window. Her eyes fell to the street below, the bit of the front steps she could make out. “What if he made another like me? What if he’s proving he has someone killing Siders?”

  “Let him.”

  She sighed, going back to watching the Siders below. The one who’d confronted her when she and Az had left last night paced the sidewalk in front of her building. “I’m not helping the Fallen. If Luke made someone who will, they need to be stopped.”

  “So, you’ll find this Sider and kill them? All you’d be doing is sending them to the Basement. Instead of being tortured, the Fallen will reward them. Like a martyr. A saint.”

  At the window, Eden went still. “Is that what happened to Libby then?” she asked, quietly.

  She’d never thought about the Siders she’d killed still existing in any real sense, not with personalities or thoughts. She’d always pictured Upstairs as a place that absorbed you, took you in. The whole ‘white light’ and all. Now that she actually visualized it, the theory seemed childish, unreal.

  “Wha
t’s it like? Upstairs?”

  In the long pause before Az answered, the Sider below crossed the street in front of their apartment complex. Was he giving up on waiting for her? Going back from wherever he came from?

  “Complicated,” Az said.

  She raised an eyebrow, waiting him out until he finally spoke.

  “It’s a figment of your imagination. Upstairs. I can’t describe it to you.”

  “You can’t say it doesn’t exist. I mean, you’ve been there.” Her attention drifted back to the Sider. He leaned against the brick, one shoe kicked up behind him. Someone had joined him. They stood, too nonchalant to not be up to something.

  Az joined her at the window. “Think about what makes you happy.”

  You, she thought first, and then a dozen things sprang into her head. Stupid things like coffee and simple things like summer and laughing. The smell the kicked-up ocean gave off after a storm.

  “Now what would make Kristen happy?”

  The words stopped her thoughts. Her brain struggled to switch gears, flashing back to the crypts Kristen raided for her dresses and jewelry, the strange knickknacks, dried roses, and the small monkey in a jar of formaldehyde she displayed on her mantle. The sadistic way she ruled her Siders. Power made her happy. Power and …

  “Poetry?” Eden offered.

  “An eternity of poetry,” he said. Eden frowned at the thought. “That. Right there.” Az’s eyes sparkled. “You’d hate having to read poetry forever, but to Kristen it’d be paradise. Upstairs is the same place but tailored to each person. Slightly different.”

  “What was it like there for you?”

  She watched outside as the Sider’s hand shot forward, but it was gloved. He snagged something from the person standing beside him. His glove came off. Eden’s own hand touched the glass. She strained to see. The Sider slid his fingers against his companion’s as they passed, each heading off in opposite directions. Were they Vaughn’s Siders?

  “Empty.” Az’s voice startled her. She’d forgotten her question until he went on. “We were never told we could dream.” She turned in his arms. His pale blue eyes pierced her, drew her in. “Until I got down here, I never knew there could be more. And now that I know, I can never go back. That place is Hell to me.”