The Siders Box Set

by Leah Clifford

  “I never said that.” Sullivan blushed, unconsciously reaching for his hand. He didn’t pull away, but dropped his eyes, embarrassed. Eden didn’t need to know what they’d done last night. “It started that way.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure by now you two have made a real connection. But that,” Eden said, pointing at their hands. “Is way more complicated than you know.”

  Jarrod cocked his head, his anger flaring back.

  Next to him, Sullivan unlaced her fingers from his and crossed her arms near her waist. “Yeah, the whole him being dead thing does complicate the issue a bit.”

  Jarrod’s mouth opened but no sound came. He closed it again, turned to Eden. She stared at Sullivan in shock. Jarrod followed her line of vision back.

  A small, almost victorious smile tipped up the corners of Sullivan’s lips. “I saw Vaughn get shot at the club. Three times smack-dab in the chest. He tried to play it off like the bullets only grazed him until I saw the holes. After that, he had to explain things.”

  She knew. The words jumped around in his head. She knew and she’d known last night and hadn’t cared. “And you were, what, fine with him being…?” Jarrod faded off in disbelief.

  “What, dead? Of course not! I flipped. Complete catatonic freak out mode. But, I got over it.” She dropped her eyes. “I mean, I thought I was in love with him.” Her eyes darted to Jarrod, then away. “Before I left, I heard him talking about you, Eden, where you hung out, so I came here hoping he wouldn’t.”

  “What exactly do you want, Sullivan?” Eden asked.

  She swiped a few strands of black hair back from her face. “I didn’t know what I was getting mixed up in with Vaughn.” She glanced down. “With everything,” she added, quieter. “On the way over here, Jarrod said something about being able to quit.” She took a slow breath. “If I did want to quit Touch,” she said as she looked up at Eden, “would you be able to help me?”

  For almost a full minute, no one spoke. Eden stared at Sullivan, her face unreadable.

  “Jarrod,” Eden said finally. “Living room.”

  They headed in that direction, found Az sitting on the couch. Jarrod wondered why he hadn’t come into the kitchen with them. Maybe he was worried the fighting would set him off. The look he gave Jarrod wasn’t exactly friendly. Eden walked them past him, heading to Jarrod’s room. He closed the door behind them, but Eden kept her voice low anyway.

  “You believe her when she says she’s addicted?”

  He didn’t even pause to consider it. “Yup.”

  “What happens when she doesn’t get it?”

  “Didn’t ask her.” He shrugged. “But she looked pretty bad at Milton’s, didn’t she?”

  Eden asking questions was a good sign. It meant her curiosity was piqued. That she wanted answers.

  She pushed up her sleeves up, her bracelets jangling. “Find out. You’re in charge of her, Jarrod. I don’t want her out of your sight.” He nodded, managed not to smile in relief. “If she got out of Staten Island before Vaughn’s little drug ring was broken up, she left right before it happened.” She paused. “Otherwise, she’s lying and she was sent here. Find out what she knows. If Vaughn’s pissed off enough, he might have sent her to see what it would take to get to me to work for him, take out the people who step on his toes.”

  She kicked absently at the base of the door. For a second he thought she’d go back on letting Sullivan stay.

  “Last night, Jarrod. I couldn’t find you. I thought Luke had you.”

  “Eden.”

  “I needed people to look, so I bartered with Madeline. Her Siders searched for you.”

  “In exchange for what?” he asked, suddenly on edge.

  She met his eyes. “In exchange for me killing Vaughn.”

  “Shit,” Jarrod whispered. “You can’t do that, Eden.”

  She shrugged. “I already said I would. If Sullivan is on the run from Vaughn, I don’t want him tracing her back to us. To me.”

  “Where else is there for her to go? I don’t think Sullivan could take Kristen’s…” He tried to find something specific but couldn’t narrow it down. “Well, Kristen in general.”

  “We’re in agreement there.” Eden tapped a finger against her lips. “Az and Gabe’s apartment? He said the lease is paid up through the end of the year.”

  “I don’t like being split up. The Bound are around, and Luke seems like he doesn’t want us forgetting about him either.” Jarrod crossed his arms over his head, his hands gripping his elbows. “Eden, I know you trust Az…”

  “Don’t.”

  “He freaked me out. Those white eyes.” He turned back to her. “One of these times he’s not going come out of it.”

  “You didn’t seem to care last night.” A moment passed, Jarrod’s shame keeping him silent. Finally, Eden relented. “Az is fine. Madeline’s going to work on finding Gabe. Until she does, he has me. I’m meeting with her tomorrow, so I’ll run this whole addiction thing by her, see what she says.”

  Jarrod leaned against the door, unwilling to let it go so easily. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am,” she said, but there was a waver in her voice he didn’t like. The look in her eyes told him fighting about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere yet. She was still too angry at him for taking off last night.

  “Then I’ll hole up with her at the apartment. You promise me anything goes on with Az, he even looks funny, you call me.”

  “I promise.”

  Jarrod opened the door. Before he passed back into the living room, Eden spoke.

  “You just met her, Jarrod,” she said. “I know you want to help her, but my advice? Don’t get too close.”

  “I’m not,” he insisted, but he couldn’t help dropping his eyes.

  Chapter 19

  Kristen crossed the street to the cemetery and climbed over the iron fence with ease, the footholds long since memorized. The weight of the past hours pressed her even lower as she hit the ground. Gabriel. She gripped tight to the thick material of her coat below her neck, an oversized button jabbing into her palm. She wished she could crack open her chest, fill it with the unfeeling granite of the tombstones peppered around her.

  Gabe’s words skimmed through her mind even as her eyes skirted across the gravestones: held her under until the bubbles stopped… lied to you for months…Eden...

  Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal. How could they keep something like this from me?

  She straightened and kept going, one foot in front of the other, her footsteps crunching through the snow. She didn’t glance up as she walked, knew the tombstones well enough to turn left after Olson, pass the obelisks for Bennett and Adrian. Finally, she slowed, then stopped. Kristen raised her head.

  One of the stained-glass windows had been covered over with plywood, now warped enough that it peeled at the corner. The heavy oak door was shut, but she knew it had no lock. Kristen opened it slowly.

  Gray winter light streamed in the windows. The center aisle led between four rows of half pews to an old wooden crucifix hung on a beam, an empty candelabra resting to the left. There was no pulpit. It could barely be considered a chapel.

  She considered it home, once.

  Those visiting the cemetery didn’t often venture so deep, and if they did, assumed the chapel was a mausoleum. The building had no heat, no electricity, but the steady stones cut the wind.

  Kristen canvassed the room in case another soul had stumbled upon it, used it for shelter. The chapel was empty.

  Her heart sped up, the scents too familiar, dragging up memories of loneliness and struggle. Everything looked the same. Kristen sat, the cold wood of the pew leeching into her thighs. Though she’d been to the cemetery dozens of times, she hadn’t been back to the chapel since Gabriel had found her, rescued her.

  You’re wasting your time, she thought, licking her lips. It’s not going to work.

  She cast her eyes up to the crucifix hanging above the altar.

  “Hel
lo.” Her voice broke, too quiet. She started again. “This isn’t a prayer, but Gabriel said sins need to be spoken, so maybe someone’s listening.” She yanked the cuffs of her coat down past her wrists. “He needs your help,” she said. “He’s in trouble. Something terrible happened and Az must have tricked or coerced him and I think Gabriel made a terrible mistake.” Her words flowed faster. “And now his punishment is…I can’t see how any of it is helping anyone and if you could—if you could give him another chance.”

  She stopped, her chest heaving. Gabe had killed Eden. Because Az was too pathetic to do such a horrible thing himself.

  Rage built inside of her. They were there on that roof, Az and Eden. They could have helped him, protected him and didn’t.

  They’d kept it from her. Worse, they’d left Gabe to struggle on his own, let the wicked parts of him chip away until there was nothing left. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob.

  If she’d been able to get to Gabe sooner, she could have helped. Instead he’d sent her away, the look in his eyes evil enough that she trembled even now, a dirty watched feeling creeping over her. Gabriel was gone.

  “No.” Kristen laced her fingers together on the pew in front of her, head bowed, her words coming with renewed vigor. “This part is a prayer. Please,” she whispered. “Please help him. Tell me what to do and I promise you, I’ll get him back to you.”

  The chapel stayed silent and still. She felt nothing, no presence, no heavenly light. She wasn’t sure what she expected, felt more foolish as the seconds ticked away.

  Kristen dropped her head onto her hands and rested it for a beat before she straightened, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “God help me for what I’m about to do,” she whispered, knowing the words were worthless.

  No one was listening.

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and called someone who would.

  When he answered, Luke’s tone was victorious. “Did you see everything you needed to see?” he asked. “If so, I have an offer.”

  “I'm ready to talk,” she said, quietly.

  “Where would you like to meet?”

  “Somewhere discreet.” She could almost hear his smile.

  “Why Kristen, are you embarrassed to be seen?” With me, she waited for him to finish, but the words didn’t come. The uncomfortable silence thickened, as if the question wasn't rhetorical, as if he expected an answer, before he continued. “My place would be fine.”

  “Time?” she asked.

  “At your convenience.”

  Kristen saw no point in delaying. “Now.”

  “I'll be waiting.”

  She slid the phone into her coat pocket. You’ll do this because you have to, she told herself again.

  Just until I can get back to you, a voice whispered. For a moment, she was sure it belonged to Gabriel, wasn’t merely in her head. But Gabriel was gone. Gabriel had risked everything for Eden.

  For Eden.

  Not caring that he left Kristen behind, no more than collateral damage. Kristen closed her eyes. Do not trust the Fallen, she reminded herself. Gabe was one of them now. Her Gabriel was gone. Luke would help her, but only because they’d started a game they’d never finished. And now he held the full deck.

  Her brain hummed, the elevator groaning the way she remembered, metal scraping metal as it passed between the twelfth and fourteenth floor. The building skipped thirteen, but the elevator never let it pass by so easily. The chill from the chapel didn't leave her, feelings of déjà vu clinging to her like spider webs, growing thicker as she approached Luke’s apartment. There was a seedy element she remembered so well, the gut feeling that getting caught wouldn't be worth the indiscretion. The door opened before she had a chance to knock.

  Luke cocked a hip against the doorframe. “It's good to have you back,” he said.

  She strode past, draping her coat over one of the barstools tucked up against the island that split the living room and kitchen. “I am not back. I'm here to barter,” she snapped.

  Luke leapt over the back of the couch, the cushion creaking as he landed. “No, I'm afraid that won't do. Come sit.”

  Kristen assessed the room. She could sit on the floor, but that put her below him. The chair cowering in the corner would make it obvious how little she wanted to be near him.

  Luke's eyes sparkled at her hesitation. He patted the couch. “You know I don't bite.”

  Kristen moved slowly.

  “You have an offer. I'd like to hear it. No commitment,” she said, perching next to him. The leather of the couch was cold.

  “Commitment. Committed.” He met her eyes. “Odd choice of phrasing.”

  “Only odd that you’d be callous enough to call attention to it.” She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Or perhaps not odd at all now that I think about it.”

  He clucked his tongue as if taken aback, though she knew her words had no effect. She wished she could say the same about his. She knew what she must look like. Tangled and forgotten. She sighed, giving him what he wanted, her helplessness. “You know how I am, and how I will be, and why I have no other choice. Tell me the deal, Luke.”

  He stood and pointed toward the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like something?” he asked. “Cola? Juice? I have anything you could want.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Kristen mumbled then raised her voice. “No, thank you.”

  Luke clasped his hands and walked into the kitchen. Kristen took the opportunity to look around more closely.

  The apartment hadn't changed much. The soft leather of the furniture dulled the sharp lines of black trim. A flat screen television took up most of one wall. A picture window looking out over the city took up a second.

  Kristen meandered to the window. Below, headlights trailed through the early evening. The sun had dipped behind the buildings. She held her hand against the glass, a ghostly outline blooming around it. From behind her came a soft swish. Her fingers smeared through the fog as she turned, expecting Luke, finding nothing.

  In the kitchen, ice clinked into a glass. And then, softer, nearer, she caught a rustling of faint whispers like bird wings.

  “Ignore it. It’s not real.” Her heart sped up anyway.

  Luke came back into the living room. Superb timing, she thought. He'd probably been waiting, caught the scent of her fear.

  “I brought you something,” he said, raising one of the tumblers he carried. “You looked thirsty.”

  She took the glass, the sides of it slippery with condensation. Inside was a yellowy pink fluid, speckled with misshapen clots of red trailing membranes. He raised his own glass to his lips, slurping down one of the clots with a wet smack.

  She almost retched, swallowed a throatful of sour spit. He caught her expression and lowered the drink.

  “Strawberry lemonade?” he said.

  She glanced into the glass again. A piece of berry had made its way through the ice and floated on top. Crushed strawberries. Nothing more. Luke’s laughter echoed in the glass as he drank.

  “Of course.” Her words were clipped. The lemonade was tart and cold. Her head seemed to clear as she swallowed. Stay calm, she told herself.

  “Where were we?” Luke asked, plopping back down into the corner of the couch, an arm thrown over the armrest, dangling the glass comfortably. “Ah yes,” he said. “You were avoiding my question as to your mental well-being.”

  “Which I intend to continue doing.” Kristen sat on the couch, careful to keep her distance.

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “Well then, what shall we talk about to fill the awkward silences? How your precious Gabriel is faring? Or your new best friend, Eden?”

  Kristen took a deep breath, held it. She kept her eyes on the floor, her voice sharp, the perfect mix of demure and obstinate. “What do you want me to say?”

  “You found him, I take it. Did he tell you what he did?” When she didn’t answer he went on. “It couldn’t have been easy to hear.
How are you?”

  Kristen shot him a glare, shaking her head slowly. “I found him. I don’t need your sympathy, so spare me the theatrics.”

  “I deserve credit, being as it's so rarely due. You thought I was lying about him.” The ice clinked in his glass as he set it down. “I have never once been dishonest with you, have I?”

  She hated the rush of blood to her cheeks.

  “Have I?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “You need me? I am there. You want me to back off? I back off.” His hand rested on the cushion between them, closer to hers. “I do everything to please you. Even now, you’ve come here only because I’m of use to you. You’re using me. We both know it and yet, I enjoy your company.”

  Kristen held tight to her mask of nonchalance. “You make me insane.”

  He laughed. “That is delightfully ironic.” He reached out and ran a fingertip across the rings gathered against her knuckles. “You know you need me, don’t you?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but a rustle caught her attention. The same one as before. She tilted her head, her ears tuning in to it. Birds?

  “Kristen?”

  The sound untwisted like a spiral, she could almost see the swirl of air. Darkness rose behind it. The wall started to crack, plaster crumbling from the corner, revealing exposed beams.

  “What’s happening?” Kristen whispered. A tearing noise echoed through the room, like an animal ripping through the cracks. Panic rose in her throat. “Luke?”

  She jumped from the couch, her eyes darting around the room. A wet leathery wing slapped against her cheek. She shrieked and smacked it away.

  Luke’s hands cupped her face. “Whatever’s scaring you, it’s not real.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath, could almost see the things now, shadow bats, blurs of air. Something scraped her skin. She pressed against Luke, each word a separate gasp when she tried to speak. “They’re. Touching. Me. I can feel them.”

  “What is?”

  “Bats. They’re bats.” She could see them now, streaming from the hole in the corner, from the rafters.