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The Siders Box Set

Page 43

by Leah Clifford


  “Yeah, you’ve done a great job proving how reliable you are, Eden.” Madeline wouldn’t look at her. “Kristen’s schizophrenia gets worse without Gabe. And now Kristen’s missing. Luke’s missing.” She paused. “A deal with the devil to keep herself sane.”

  Eden took a swallow of hot coffee, the liquid burning her throat. “You’re not saying she went to Luke for help?” Eden said carefully. “She wouldn’t. A month ago, she gave me the Touch that helped us beat Luke.”

  Madeline shrugged. “All I’m saying is watch your back a bit more. Just in case.”

  “Well, aren’t you helpful?” Eden stared her down. “So, why not help me again? Vaughn sold Touch like a drug. The mortals he sold to, what happens if they keep getting hit with Touch? Are they getting addicted?”

  A flicker of surprise crossed Madeline’s face, almost too fast to catch, but Eden had caught her off guard. She smiled. Madeline did not.

  “Some of them got it too often, didn’t they?” Eden pressed.

  “Now where’d you get an idea like that?” Madeline asked. She laid the fork down on her plate.

  “Kristen was always so adamant that Touch be spread out. You knew they’d get hooked, didn’t you? You all did.” Eden sipped her coffee, trying not to sound accusing and confrontational. Madeline wasn’t the enemy. “It worked out great for Vaughn. If he was selling Touch, he had to have them coming back for more right?”

  Across from Eden, Madeline straightened. “That’s a very specific theory, Eden.” She shoved a bite of cupcake into her mouth, swallowed it and tapped the napkin lightly against her lips. “Tell me why you really wanted to know, and I’ll spill it.”

  “A girl showed up here, at Milton’s. Jarrod was with her in her hotel room. She tricked him into touching her.”

  “Yeah, ton of trickery in that,” Madeline snickered.

  Eden ignored her. “This girl claims she was with Vaughn. Now, you’re aware of how trusting I am.” Eden’s smirk was bitter. “I want to know if you can confirm her story.”

  “Why?” A moment later her expression shifted to amusement. “I mean, I know you have a thing for taking in strays, but mortals?”

  “What can I say,” Eden deadpanned. “I’m a giver.”

  Madeline’s attention shifted over Eden’s shoulder. She froze for a split second, then snapped back to Eden. “Are you seriously trying to pull this shit on me?” she hissed. “After all I’ve done for you?”

  A shocked laugh burst out of Eden. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle it when she realized Madeline wasn’t kidding. “Pull what? I don’t understand.”

  “Now you're just pissing me off.” Madeline slid out of the booth, tossing a few bills onto the dirty plate.

  “Wait! What’s wrong?” Eden asked. She followed Madeline up.

  Madeline spun back to her, rage narrowing her eyes. Eden stumbled backward, but Madeline grabbed her arm, yanked her along to the front door. “Tell me, Eden, what’d Vaughn promise you? You take care of me and he’ll make all your problems go away? Did he tell you where Gabe is?” She stopped suddenly, registering the shock on Eden's face. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea we’re being watched, do you?”

  “Watched?” Eden looked behind her, but Madeline pulled her away out the door and around the side of the building.

  “Swear to me you've never seen him before.” She pointed through the window at a booth two behind where they’d been. A guy sat there, one leg on the bench, bent with a magazine balanced on it, his head inclined away from them enough to keep his face hidden. He flipped the page looking completely engrossed. At first all she could see was his gelled-back black hair, but then there was a crash near the counter and he looked up for a split second.

  “I've never seen him before,” Eden said without hesitation.

  Madeline grabbed her by the wrist, marched her back through the door. “Follow my lead. Try to look like a scary bitch,” Madeline said over her shoulder.

  At the booth, Madeline kicked her tennis shoe up on the bench and leaned forward onto her knee. Her hands flew up in mock surprise before she lowered her head into her palms. “Fancy meeting you here, Ali!”

  The guy slapped the magazine down on the table. “Pretty far from Queens, Madeline!” He gasped. “Did you get lost?” The smile fell from his face. “Fuck off. I'm not here for you. I'm passing through.” He turned to Eden, stared at her for a second. “Who's she?”

  Now it was Madeline's turn to balk. “Seriously, I can't take your shit right now. Drop the act.”

  He shook his head slowly. “No clue, Maddy. Do I need one?”

  Madeline let out a squeak of a laugh, looking from Eden to the guy. “Oh, this is too much.” She lowered her voice. “You don't know Eden?”

  His face went ashen. “That’s the death breather?”

  “Fifty bucks is usually the going rate for my services.” Eden tilted her head. “But I can always make an exception,” she said sweetly. That ought to cover being a scary bitch, Eden thought.

  He shifted his gaze to Madeline, held his hands up. “I said I'm not here for trouble.”

  “Actually,” Madeline cut in, “you said you weren't here for me. Why are you here?”

  He ran a hand across the rough stubble on his jaw. He dropped his foot onto the floor and then pointed to the bench beside him. They slid in. “There was a girl staying with us. Mortal. All Vaughn wants is the girl back. No trouble.”

  “She took off on you?” Madeline asked. “Vaughn doesn’t take in mortals. What’s the deal?”

  “Mortal or not, Sullivan’s one of us. Vaughn takes care of his own.” Ali relaxed a bit. “Before he had everything set up, we didn’t have enough buyers. Vaughn didn’t want us spreading to the general public. Luckily, Sullivan was game for a finger tapping whenever we felt the need.”

  Eden’s rage bubbled up at his smarmy smile. “You’re sick,” she spat. Only a subtle bump of Madeline’s elbow into her side kept her from losing it completely. A steady ache blossomed around where she’d been hit, much more hurt than she should have felt from the jab. Eden gripped the edge of the table, preparing herself for the worst.

  Ali looked to Madeline as if she’d protect him. “Look, I’m the first to say she’s been dosed too many times. I mean, she’s spent days so knuckled out she didn’t even know where she was half the time, but she has everything she could want. We take good care of her. She’s a little confused.”

  “Why would you think she’s in Manhattan?” Madeline crossed her arms on the table. “Counting on her wandering into the coffee shop you’re hanging out in doesn’t seem like the best plan.”

  Ali glanced out the window. “I’m waiting on Vaughn. He got a tip that she was around here. Heard there was a kid who could tell him where to find her. He works here. Vaughn figured he’d try to catch him before he made it.”

  “Where’s Vaughn right now, Ali?” Madeline demanded.

  The smile waned as Ali picked up on Eden’s growing stress and realized his obvious mistake. “He’s part of your crew. You’re the one hiding Sullivan.”

  Eden took off, out through the door. It was after ten. Jarrod would be on his way to work. Should have been there already.

  A car horn blared, the bumper almost swiping her leg as she darted across the street, running full tilt for the alley, already knowing she would be too late.

  Chapter 25

  Jarrod groaned at the screaming alarm, shooting his hand to the floor. He felt around till he found his cell phone, checked the time and hit the snooze button again. He should have been out of bed and ready by now. Sullivan’s arms tangled around his neck.

  “Why are we waking up?” she rasped.

  “I have to work.” He rolled closer to her and drew her against him. Her skin was hot against his, feverish. He dropped his cheek to her forehead. She was burning up. “You feel okay?”

  She shrugged. “I just woke up. I don’t feel anything but tired.” Her eyes still closed, she laid her head on
his chest, sighing contentedly. “You make a good pillow.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to settle for this one,” he said, sliding out from underneath her and replacing himself with the pillow he’d been using.

  “How long are you going to be gone?” she murmured.

  “It’s a full shift, so eight hours.” Part of him wanted to bring her with him. She could hang out and he’d know she was safe, but he knew he was being stupid. Vaughn could find her more easily at Milton’s. Anyone could. She’d be safer here. And if she was sick…

  Her face was pale except for two bright burning spots of red on her cheeks.

  She’s mortal. She’s going to get sick. I can’t call off for that. If he got fired, they’d never make rent and they were way too close anyway. He’d already cut out early once and was damn lucky his day off had coincided with meeting her.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She didn’t answer. Could it be withdrawal? “Sullivan?” He leaned closer, pushing her hair back. “I gotta be there in a few minutes,” he said, but she was out again.

  She’ll be fine, he promised himself, grabbing a work shirt from his closet, and tossing it on over his T-shirt. He yanked on the least wrinkled pair of khakis he could find.

  Slipping out, he closed the door as quietly as he could, heading to the front door. Az sat on the couch, the television playing softly.

  “Hey,” Jarrod whispered.

  Az lifted a hand in response.

  “Where’s Eden?”

  “Not here yet.” He turned to Jarrod, his face blank. “Nothing’s gonna happen in the few minutes until she gets back to set me off.”

  Jarrod shrugged into his coat. “I wouldn’t be leaving if I thought you were going to lose it.”

  Az said nothing.

  “Sullivan’s…I don’t know if she’s detoxing or what, but she’s got a hell of a fever. Check on her later?” he asked. He slipped on his shoes, tied a quick double knot. “I think Eden freaks her out.”

  Jarrod raised his hand to the trim on the door, hesitating. He’d been up last night after Sullivan fell asleep, thinking about what Michael had said—how Eden smelled like fire or burning. That Az had seen. That he was lying. Az and Eden not talking had gotten them into every mess they’d faced. If Az wasn’t going to tell her, Jarrod knew he’d have to. Not something he looked forward to.

  When Az didn’t say any more Jarrod added, “Let me know if she gets any worse.” He headed out before Az answered.

  Through the window, he took a quick look around and opened the door to the street. No Siders on the stairs, but the packed down splotches gave away where they’d been. Otherwise, the cement was covered in four inches of snow.

  “Damn it.” Jarrod stared down the alley. Drifts rose several feet up against one wall.

  He stuck to the other side, where the snow left barely a trace, trying not to get his shoes too wet. Today would suck enough without his feet freezing the whole time.

  He yanked his hood down, tried to follow the footprints Eden had left on her way to Milton’s to meet Madeline. The wind whipped by bitter cold, spitting snow, as he trudged forward. His foot caught a patch of ice. He tried to make a grab for the wall, clawing for enough of a grip to stay upright but ended up on his ass anyway.

  “Unbelievable!” he yelled, his tailbone screaming.

  A shadow darkened across him. “If I’d known you were my competition, I could’ve waited for Sullivan to wander back on her own.”

  Jarrod knocked his hood back as he raised his head to whoever was above him. The guy could have passed for a Sopranos bit player, built wide like a jock, slicked-back black hair. Douchebag, Jarrod decided.

  The guy didn’t offer him a hand up.

  “That makes you Vaughn?” Jarrod guessed. “You got some balls showing up in Manhattan, man.”

  Vaughn snorted a laugh. “Yeah, you’re a real hardass.” He leaned against the brick wall on one broad shoulder, looking amused. “See, I can tell by the way you’re sitting in the snow there.”

  Jarrod got to his feet, not giving Vaughn the satisfaction of looking away. Don’t slip. Please don’t fall, he begged. A victory grin curled up the corner of his mouth when he made it without so much as a stumble. “Eden know you’re trespassing? You know how she deals with people she doesn’t like?”

  Vaughn’s smirk faded.

  “I’m just here for a few words.” He spread his hands. “Where’s Sullivan?”

  Jarrod didn’t react.

  “Did you leave her alone?”

  “I don’t know anyone by that name,” Jarrod lied, but Vaughn went on.

  “Because if there’s anything sharp in the room, she’s probably bleeding out.” Vaughn’s cheek twitched, his expression unreadable. “Anything she can get tied around her neck?” he asked, his hand in a fist at the side of his throat yanking at an imaginary noose.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jarrod said.

  “Or did she start you off slow and go for a roof?”

  From the way Vaughn’s eyes lit up, Jarrod knew he’d given something away.

  “You feel like a hero when you saved her?” His expression hardened. “How’re you gonna feel when she swallows a couple bottles of pills? When you have to shove your finger down her throat and all you can feel is grateful she didn’t think to look for your razor in the cabinet?”

  Jarrod didn’t say anything for half a minute, the silence broken only by the steady plop of drips from above like a metronome.

  “Yeah, I thought so,” Vaughn sneered.

  Jarrod moved to duck around him, but Vaughn didn’t budge. “Maybe you shouldn’t have given her Touch in the first place.”

  Something changed on Vaughn’s face. Dropping his attention to the snow, he pressed his boot into the edge of the drift, trampling it down. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Jarrod.”

  Vaughn nodded as if deep in thought, his eyes still downcast. “Listen, Jarrod, I’m done here. I want my girl back.”

  “She’s not your possession,” Jarrod ground out.

  Vaughn’s head snapped up. “You’ve known her a week. Sullivan’s been mine since we were both fourteen,” he roared. “You wanna know pain, Jarrod? Watch your girlfriend smiling the day after you die. Walk up to her on the street. Have her look at you like you’re a stranger.”

  Shock broke Jarrod’s anger. “You knew her before you were a Sider?”

  “We were together three years before I went Sider. I thought she was cheating on me; turns out she was forgetting all about me.” Vaughn winced. “I stayed away. I tried. For a year and then I ran into her at a club. She didn’t even look at me.” He tipped his head back, staring up into the rush of snowflakes. “One of my crew hit her friends with Touch the weekend before. She was looking for it. And I thought maybe…maybe we could start over.”

  “She’s done with you.” Jarrod’s voice came out a whisper, not the calm demand he’d been shooting for. He looked toward the end of the alley. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go to work now. Not after what Vaughn had said. Was there anything sharp in his room? She’d been sleeping when he’d left. What if she woke up? He took a few steps back toward the apartment.

  “Listen, you little shit,” Vaughn started.

  Jarrod turned back as Vaughn’s fist cracked into his nose. He dropped to his knees, hands cupped over his face for a split second before he dove forward and slammed into Vaughn’s legs.

  Vaughn caught him on the way down, ending up on top, pounding his knuckles into Jarrod’s face again. Jarrod coughed out a spray of blood, fought to turn his head away. Vaughn’s knees pinned his arms into the ground, the next punch cracking a bone in Jarrod’s cheek.

  Wrestling an arm free, he grabbed Vaughn’s ear and twisted with everything he had.

  “Son of a bitch,” Vaughn yelled, rocking enough to the side so that Jarrod could free his other hand and punch into Vaughn’s throat. The cry choked off. Jarrod bucke
d, throwing Vaughn into the wall. Before Vaughn staggered to his feet, Jarrod was already up. He didn’t hesitate, palmed Vaughn’s face and slammed his head against the wall.

  Vaughn crumpled.

  Gasping for breath, Jarrod dropped his elbows to his knees, his nose dripping crimson onto the snow.

  “Dick.” He straightened and retched, spitting a glop of bloody mucus. Wiping his face with the sleeve of his coat, he cupped a hand under his nose. His face was already swelling; he squinted to see the way back home.

  “Jarrod!” A frantic call from the head of the alley. Eden ran toward him.

  He slipped as he stepped toward her and went down on one knee. She got to him in time to grab his elbow and keep him from falling flat.

  “Jesus Christ,” she said, tilting his head up.

  The taste of the blood that streamed down the back of his throat made him gag.

  She looked down at the body in the drift beside them as she slung an arm around Jarrod’s waist, trying to help him. “Madeline met me, but halfway through she spotted Vaughn’s Second. Freaked out thinking I was setting her up and then had us confront him. Someone told him we have Sullivan.”

  “And where he could find me?” Jarrod’s head snapped up. “Little convenient that you were tied up in that conversation while I was getting my ass kicked.”

  Eden’s eyes flashed back to the entrance to the alley closest to Milton’s. “No. Not on purpose. I mean Madeline, she helped me look for you the other night. She wouldn’t…” Eden’s hands dropped from Jarrod’s jacket. “But Ali said someone called Vaughn and tipped him off you’d be here.”

  Jarrod coughed hard and dropped his hand, a palmful of blood coloring the snow. “You think it was Madeline? She know about Sullivan?”

  “She watches us, Jarrod. She could have seen you with her. And she wants Vaughn dead. She might’ve hoped I’d get pissed off enough to do it.”

  Jarrod paused. “You gonna?”

  “It’ll send him Downstairs,” Eden said.

  In the snow, Vaughn didn’t stir. Utterly helpless. One breath and Eden could end him. Jarrod cupped his nose again, pinching off the end.

 

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