A Touch Menacing (42 page)

Amused, Kristen watched him waver before he snatched the girl’s hand and crossed the room with her.

Once they were gone, Eden faced Kristen. “Are you after Sullivan?”

Confused, Kristen leaned forward. So the girl was important. “Why would I be?”

Eden held her gaze. There was strategy in the look.
She actually thinks she can toy with me.
The thought gave her an edge, a moment to clear her mind before Eden went on.

“The demons saw Sullivan, so Luke knows about her,” Eden said. “I would think if he accidentally made another Sider, he’d be pretty keen on taking her out before any more got sent Downstairs. You’re sure you aren’t here to find her?”

Another death breather.
Kristen struggled to keep the emotions from her face, but Eden’s twitch of a smile told Kristen she’d blown it.
Why wouldn’t he have told me?
Not knowing about Sullivan was a detail that could’ve gotten her killed.

“Kristen, talk to me,” Eden said earnestly. “What’s really going on? You can’t trust Luke.”

“Yes,” Kristen said, before Eden could go on, “I can.” One hand itched absently at her boot before she caught herself. She betrayed nothing more than she already had. “When did Luke kill the girl?”

“The night Sebastian and I came to Aerie looking for you, but way later.”

Had that been why Luke didn’t tell her about Sullivan’s existence? He never would have made a Sider on purpose. Was it possible he’d lost his temper and made a mistake? “Luke was so angry when I left,” she said, grim.

Two minutes later, both sides of the story were out on the table. Jarrod and Sullivan came back just as Kristen got to the part about Luke having Madeline suggest masks so he could be there and get Kristen out.

“So Luke used Madeline and then left her to die,” Jarrod said, his voice emotionless. “Nice.”

Instead of being angry, Kristen turned to him calm and controlled. “Gabriel’s Bound. He obviously knew what was going to happen and did nothing. I don’t see you vilifying
him
.”

“How could you think he’d just let that happen?” Az said. Disgusted, Kristen rolled her eyes, but Az went on. “
I
told Gabe about your party. I sent him to help as soon as I left Upstairs. He didn’t know. The Bound kept him in the dark.”

Her face fell. Suddenly Gabriel’s relief at hearing her voice took on a whole new meaning. “He called Luke to be sure I’d gotten out. But who told Luke?” she asked. “He said it was a Sider.”

“Maybe it was Madeline?” Eden asked with a raised brow.

“She was acting strange,” Kristen acknowledged.

Kristen went quiet, lost in thought, remembering Madeline, the emeralds around her neck and her reaction to Kristen’s nearing hand. Bits of the conversation with Gabe floated back.
Her body,
he’d said.
On the back stairs. Her ribs were . . . I couldn’t save her.

Kristen rolled the rings on her fingers one at a time, shaking her head for a moment before she spoke. “I saw the Bound destroy a Sider.” She swallowed to give herself a chance to collect her words. “They tore out his heart and stole away his soul, and he disintegrated into ashes.”

“So why didn’t Madeline?” Sullivan asked. Kristen’s unease grew.

Az, too, seemed unsettled. “When Gabe told me about Madeline, he said she was . . . ripped open. The same way that Sider must have been. She was definitely dead,” he said.

Kristen tilted her head back, concentrating. “You’re right. She and Jackson were up to something. She was excited, nervous. She said she had to tell me something huge. That it was going to change everything.” Kristen lowered her voice to a whisper, hesitant to put her thoughts into words. “Jackson told you on the phone that there was another Sider. And when you asked who made her, the Bound or the Fallen, he said neither, correct?”

Pity made its way onto Eden’s face. “Kristen . . .”

Kristen stabbed a finger into the air. “No, listen!” she shouted, her careful mask of indifference finally cracking apart. “She didn’t want to be touched, and she still had a body after she died. And a death breather not made by angels.” She kneeled down beside Eden and helped her to her feet. “What if Madeline wasn’t a Sider anymore? My God, Eden . . . what if this girl, this Sider, can make us mortal again?”

CHAPTER 24

A
t the door of his apartment, Luke tangled a lock of Kristen’s hair around his finger. “You know,” he said slowly, “Gabriel can’t guarantee your safety. Or your sanity.”

“Oh, darling, such sweet things you say.” The sarcasm covered the sting she felt at his words. She wrapped a cashmere scarf around her neck. “Afraid once I head out into the big bad world I’ll realize what a mistake I’ve made choosing you? Maybe make a run for it while I can?”

“Maybe.” He gave the lock of hair a sharp tug and then tucked it behind her ear. “I’m not sure what your word is worth.” She didn’t know whether his smug smile was meant to set her at ease or infuriate her.

The thick jacket she had was nothing she would have chosen herself, not a style the Bound would expect her to wear. It smelled like Luke. The scent enveloped her, stealing deeper inside. Her body hummed.

She took a breath before giving him an indulgent look. “You’re not going to have me followed by those minions or whatever I saw last night?” she asked. In the light of day, the not-shadows seemed improbable. Luke’s expression went whimsical, his voice dropping low.

“They’ve always been with you, Kristen. They’ll obey you if you call to them, though they can’t hold form around the Bound,” he said, spreading his hands out at his sides. He curled his fingers slightly as if in invitation, fixated on a spot just over her shoulder. “It’d drive a weaker girl mad to know how close they are. To see how easily they whisper to you from their dark corners. Once you hear them, it’s hard not to listen.”

Kristen fought the urge to turn. “You think I’d fall for that? There’s nothing there,” she snapped too quickly. Luke twitched just enough to let her know he’d picked up on her bravado. For a split second, she thought she felt a sigh against her skin. Behind her, a floorboard gave the slightest creak.

A corner of his mouth tweaked up in a grin. “I’ll tell them to keep their distance,” he said as he stepped aside so she could open the door.

“The Bound will pay for what they’ve done,” she said. For a long moment, she only stared into Luke’s eyes. “ ‘For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,/Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.’” She kissed him, as close to his lips as she dared, but he didn’t flinch. “My love,” she whispered, “is a fever.’”

Despite the layers she wore against the cold, Kristen felt exposed. Standing alone on a Queens street corner, she had every reason to be afraid, but fear had nothing to do with the tremors that battered her insides. Her skin was raw and roughed over from Luke’s kisses, her cheeks blush burned. Already she felt the absence of him.

Her nearly knee-high boots crunched ice and salt, the left one tight and aching on her calf. Luke had promised other weapons like the one she carried tucked in that boot. He would only give them to her one at a time. They were precious, rare. This one would be given to Jackson. She had never thought to memorize his number, but he hadn’t been at the ball, so she was hedging her bets that he was alive, staying out of sight in Madeline’s home.

What was she going to say to him? Her ball had laid the Siders out on a platter. Kristen shook her head, thrusting the guilt away. Today, she’d right her wrongs. Help Jackson and anyone else who was left. If Kristen had been the one dead, Madeline would have done the same for her.

Kristen scanned the street for threats. Bells rung as Salvation Army workers collected change in front of stores. The clouded, heavy skies were a portent of snow to come.

She turned at the small bodega on the corner and headed up the street. Every few minutes, she glanced behind to be sure she wasn’t being followed. She circled back of the nondescript, run-down house and lifted a cracked flowerpot. The dead plant rattled as she set it aside. Underneath was the spare key. She slipped it into the door.

“Hello?” she called out softly, her hand on the knob.

No one answered. Two stairs led up to a kitchen. There was food on the counter, none of it spoiled, as if someone had made a late breakfast and then disappeared without cleaning it up. The cupboards were open, paint peeling from them.

“Jackson?” Kristen yelled.

She imagined Madeline bounding around the corner, half expected her, but no one came. Kristen passed into the hall, up the stairs. Every crack and creak echoed through the emptiness. A shirt hung, looped around the rails of the banister. Another lay discarded in the hall. She froze, listening.

Silence, save for a ticking clock, the wind groaning outside. The door to every room lining the hall was open. She gave each one a cursory glance, padding quietly on. Most of the rooms were untouched. A very few were ravaged, dresser drawers hanging askew, clothes ripped half off hangers and then abandoned. The floors were hardwood; any ashes should have been easy to spot, but there were none. Jackson must have taken whoever was left and run. Which would explain why most of the rooms were perfect. They had belonged to Siders who died.

“Jackson!” she yelled louder. “Anyone?”

When she got to the last room, there was something on the scuffed-up floorboards. She swallowed hard and cast a glance back at the stairs before she took a step forward. Her face wrinkled in disgust. Vomit. Old and dried.

“What the hell went on here?” she whispered. Madeline’s house might have been run-down, parts of it falling apart, but she wasn’t the type to leave something like this. The puddle had been there long enough to crack and split as it dried.

A knock sounded at the front door. Kristen pressed herself against the wall, frozen. Jackson had clearly left in a hurry; what if they’d gone because they knew the Bound were headed to Madeline’s next? The knock came again, louder and more insistent.
Relax,
she commanded herself.
The Bound wouldn’t exactly be knocking.

The knob squeaked as it turned.

“Hey, it’s open.” Eden’s voice. Dizzy relief spilled over Kristen, a second ahead of frustration. As long as Eden was around, Siders would be dying. But Eden would fight against the Bound. With everyone else dead, Kristen wondered if it was time to rethink her position.

“It looks like he’s already gone,” said a second voice. Male.
My God,
she thought.
That can’t be Az?
One set of footsteps, then another, crossed into the living room below.

“Coast clear?” And Jarrod. The whole crew. Which meant she was outnumbered three to one. There was a whisper of nylon, coat sleeves brushing against each other. “Come on,” he added a second later, his tone softer.

Who else was with them?
Kristen eased backward into one of the rooms and tucked herself into the wedge between the wall and the door.

The voices were less distinct, but she could still hear them milling about down there.
Go away,
she thought desperately, but the fates were not in her favor. The quartet went back the way she’d come in, to the kitchen. A moment later, there were murmurs at the base of the stairs.

Eden sounded angry. “We’re checking everywhere. Even if they’re not here, maybe they left some clue where they were going, or what Jackson was talking about.”

Kristen held her breath, torn between hoping Eden would go on about whatever Jackson had said and praying she’d leave. She got neither. Four sets of shoes clomped up the stairs.

“You and Sullivan take that side,” Eden commanded.
Who is Sullivan?
Squeaking hinges marked their progress. They closed the doors as they searched room by room, minute by minute.

“Clear,” she heard Jarrod yell from across the hall.

In her hiding spot, Kristen swallowed hard. Everything had gone absolutely wrong. If they discovered her now, Eden would never trust her. All that was left was pleading mercy if she was found.

“Should we just stay here?” Az asked.

A shadow darkened the floor. “I don’t know,” Eden said slowly, stepping into the room Kristen hid in.

Go away,
Kristen thought. The floorboards creaked as Eden moved further in. Kristen cleared her mind, readying herself for what she was about to do.
Nothing a little acting can’t fix,
she thought.

Kristen shoved the door hard, then slammed the lock. Whipping around, she faced Eden. “Don’t scream, it’s me!” she pleaded.

Eden stood, arms spread out and ready to fight.

Kristen amped up her false terror. “Please,” she whispered. “You have to help me. Tell Az and Jarrod not to hurt me!”

A bang rattled the door against her back. Kristen held her hands up.

“Eden?” Az yelled from the other side. “What’s going on? Open the door!”

“Kristen’s in here! She’s locked the door.” Eden stared at her, desperate and full of fear.

Someone kicked hard enough to rattle the door in its frame.