A Touch Mortal (19 page)

“B
end your knees,” Az said as their speed slowed. Eden unclenched her eyelids, startled to find the ground a few feet below.

Az was already running when they hit, catching Eden when she stumbled and forcing her up the stairs to her security door.

He turned to her expectantly.

“I wasn’t the one with the key,” she said with a flippant shrug of her shoulders.

“Fuck.” Az looked up, studying what he could see of the building through the blinding snow. Flakes caught in his lashes. “You the one with the lights?” he asked.

Her anger blazed back now that her feet were on solid ground. “What? Your little spies didn’t keep you informed?”

Az rolled his eyes. “Save it, Eden. We don’t have time for couples therapy this second. Who’s in your apartment
right now?” he asked, surveying the empty street around them.

“Jarrod. I don’t know if Adam would have time—”

“He wouldn’t,” Az interrupted.

“To get here yet,” she finished. “If he’s even coming.”

“Anyone else?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

“Libby. Libby’s there too.”

“Who’s that?” he asked, backing down the stairs and looking up as if judging the distance to their window.

“She found us. I owed her a favor. She’s been crashing with us the past couple days.”

He shot her a look. “Can she be trusted?”

“What do you care?” she asked. A second later she rolled her eyes. “She’s fine, Az.”

“We don’t really have a choice.” Once again he pulled her to him, and before she had time to scream they were hovering at the window. Az rapped his knuckles against the glass. Two silhouettes cast shadows on the plastic slats of the shade.

He uncuffed her
, Eden thought, surprised.

“Is there a code or something?” Az asked. Eden almost laughed.

“Yeah. If an angel flies me home and is hovering outside a window that also happens to be sans balcony, I rap four times.” The sarcasm felt comforting, like some part of her she’d been missing the last half hour had come back.

The shade slowly rose. In the backlighting it was hard to make out the look on Jarrod’s face, but Eden could see Libby clearly, her mouth open in shock.

“Open the window, Jarrod,” she lipped, knowing he couldn’t hear her through the heavy glass. His shadowy hand undid the latch, and she felt one of Az’s wings flutter against her leg as they curled, drifting them back to give the window room to swing out.

“What the hell…” Jarrod cried as Az pushed Eden in through the window. Tucking his wings tight against his back once his feet were on the sill, Az followed, swiveling his naked shoulders to slide through the frame.

Jarrod and Libby stood back. Eden sunk to the floor, her quick breaths the only sound. One by one, each set of eyes turned to the wings of the figure crouched near the living-room window.

“She lost her key,” Az said finally, shrugging. He stood, pointing left. “I need water. Kitchen?” Libby nodded blankly, her eyes still wide.

“Hey!” Eden called. He turned around just in time to catch the jacket she’d shrugged off and tossed to him. He slipped the leather coat on, covering his wings, and winked at her.

When he was gone, Libby turned to her.

“He’s a…”

“Pain in the ass,” Eden said, standing up on shaky legs,
hoping the tone of her voice would be enough to end the conversation.

“Where’s Adam?” Jarrod asked, glancing at the open window. Turning away from him to close it, Eden kept her face hidden as she slid the hooked lock back into place.

“He’s fine,” Az said from where he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. He took a draught from the giant plastic cup in his hand. The ice clinked as he drained the last of it. “He needed to blow off some steam.”

Jarrod took him in with suspicious eyes.

They jumped as the call box for the front door buzzed. Jarrod was the first to rush to the intercom.

“Adam?” he yelled into the box.

Static popped and hissed for two long seconds before they heard Eden’s name whispered through the crackle.

“Who is this?” Jarrod demanded.

“Eden? Can someone come?” Each word strained through the speaker.

“Gabe!” Eden went for the doorknob, but Az grabbed her wrist, his other hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

“You have to stay here, Eden. I need to make sure he’s alone.”

“No!”

“Don’t let her leave here, understood?” Az said over her shoulder. Jarrod’s arms encircled her before she had
a chance to react, pinning her arms at her sides. Her feet swung furiously, and she bucked in his arms until he lifted her off the ground, twisting her out of the way. Az slipped out the door, closing it behind him.

“Stop it, Eden. Let him check it out!”

She settled with a last jerk of her shoulder.

A long minute passed before there was a kick at the door. Libby opened it.

Az had his arm around Gabe. One of his eyes was swollen, a shallow cut running from his eyebrow to his cheek, bleeding onto his chin. He hissed a breath through clenched teeth as he tried to put weight down on his foot.

“Oh my God,” Libby gasped, not daring to look again. “That is
so
broken.” At the ankle, his left boot was twisted almost backward.

“He just needs to sit down.” Az helped Gabe to the couch, moving the table so he could stretch out his leg.

“Are you sure? It looks awful. Do you need, like…something?” Libby asked, unsure of what to offer.

Gabe reached down, gritting his teeth. With a swift twist, he ripped the foot back around, a shout squeezing past his lips. Everyone squirmed at the crunch of shifting bones.

“He’ll be good as new by morning,” Az whispered, his voice hoarse. “But thank you.” He looked up at Libby again. “Actually, can I get another glass of water?”

Eden stood off to the side, where Jarrod had finally set her down. Her attention flicked to the door as it opened.

Adam stepped inside, his face unreadable as his eyes skipped across the scene, stalling on Eden.

“Adam,” Eden sighed, covering the steps between them. She hesitated, but he held out an arm to her, pulling her into an embrace. He glanced at Gabe’s bleeding cheek. “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked him.

Libby came back into the room, looking guilty as she handed Az the cup. Adam’s jaw went hard. He squared his shoulders as he took a step closer to Az. “If you touch her again, I’ll kill you.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow at Eden. “Bit protective?” Adam turned to him, but Gabe lifted a hand. “Easy there, tiger. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Az turned back to Eden. “They all get like this about you?” he asked, fascinated.

“Well, you didn’t exactly make a sparkling first impression,” she said. She met Az’s eyes as she put an arm around Adam and his fingers found hers, squeezing tight. Az broke her stare without a word, his face stoic.

“You did good, girl. You’ll need them.” Gabe lifted his leg, tried to wiggle the ankle but winced and lowered it gingerly.

Az drained the glass of water in a single gulp, setting down the cup on the coffee table. He chewed an ice cube
with a crunch and Eden cringed, thinking of the sound Gabe’s ankle had made.

“It was the Fallen, wasn’t it?” Eden asked.

Gabe leaned back with a nod, closing his eyes as his head hit the cushion of the couch. “He’ll need a day to recover,” he said. “That was too close, Az.”

“So you’re him?” Adam said, his voice icy. “She’s with me now. And you need to get the hell out of our apartment.”

She thought she saw a flash of something cross Az’s face.

“Adam,” Eden said. He jumped at her voice. “Stop it. You don’t know anything about the Fallen. These two saved my ass tonight while you were off—” She cut herself short. “
Both
of them did. They’re staying here tonight.”

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled.

“Jarrod, set Az up on the floor. Gabe gets the couch.” If Adam hadn’t come out all defensive she wouldn’t have opened her mouth. Now she was stuck with Az. Though Gabe did look spent. She crossed the living room and squatted down next to him, her hand balancing her on the armrest. “We’re safe here? You’ll be able to heal?”

He considered it and then nodded.

“Good,” she continued, standing. “Party’s over.” She surveyed the faces. “Sleep if you can. We’ll sort this out in the morning.”

Her eyes darted to Az.

“Adam and I will be in my room if you need us,” she said quietly, taking Adam’s hand. Az only stared, the longing clear on his face. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out for her, but he kept the hand at his side. She led Adam to her room, not looking back, sure she still knew Az well enough to hit below the belt.

Eden turned away as Adam closed the door, slipping her tank top over her head, too tired to worry about modesty. She yanked a long T-shirt on as he snapped on the light. His eyes floated across the pale skin of her midriff, before skimming to concentrate on the sneakers he untied and stepped out of. She unfastened her skirt, pulling it off, the fabric of the shirt drifting above her knees.

Climbing into the bed, she lifted the covers off the empty side next to her, watching his fingers fumble with the button of his jeans. He folded them too slowly, set them on the floor. His shirt dropped from his fingers.

Eden waited, her hand tucked under the pillow. Adam stood silent in his boxers, his head bowed.

Looking up, he licked his lips, parted them, but no words came. He moved then, only a hand, drifting out to tap a finger against the mattress.

Eden reached. She didn’t take his hand in hers, just brushed his thumb with the tips of her fingers.

Her words came out slow, each one forced.

“I watched him sleep, once. The last night, before I…” She cut off, forced herself to go on. “I was so tired but I wouldn’t let my eyes close because I was afraid he wouldn’t be there when I woke up, that I just dreamed him. And then…and then everything changed,” she said. “I thought I would die without him.”

“Why would you say that to me?” he asked quietly, his eyes full of heartache.

Her fingers slipped under his palm. She spread them, but he didn’t take her hand. “Because I did die. Because a few months later, it hurts me to even look at him, and I don’t know what that means.”

“Do you still want to be with him?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

He picked up her hand, moving it closer to her, and dropped it onto the sheets. He clicked off the light as he climbed into bed next to her. His hand found her back, pulled her closer so her head rested on his bare chest. In the silence, she heard his heartbeat, strong and steady and calm.

“What happened after I left?”

Eden closed her eyes. “I’m in some deeper shit than I let on. Not all angels are good.”

Adam snorted. “Living room occupants excluded?”

“I didn’t say that,” Eden managed. He stroked her
hair and kissed the top of her head. His breath hit her cheek as she kissed his neck once.

“Don’t,” he whispered, tucking her head back against his shoulder gently. “I don’t want that.”

Eden felt her face flush. “I thought…”

“I want you to close your eyes. I want you to fall asleep first.”

“Why?” she asked, suddenly afraid he would slip out of the room as soon as she did.

“Because I’ll be here in the morning.”

N
ext to her, Adam was curled tight into the blankets. She blinked again. The shock of the dream that awoke her was already fading into a low tide of unease. Something about Kristen. The night with Marcus. Something burning?
No
, she thought,
something really is burning
. Eden closed her eyes and sniffed as she ran her hand down her neck. The muscles there were stiff from sleeping half cocked over Adam’s arm. He didn’t stir when she crawled out of the bed.

Eden followed the fumes to the kitchen, a thin haze of smoke coming from the skillet on the burner. She climbed across a chair and slid open the window next to the table.

Az turned at the scrape, a look of apology on his face. He wore the same tight black pants he’d had on last night, but she recognized the dark blue T-shirt as one of Jarrod’s. Some of the curl had come back into his hair. With it came
a memory, their breath coming hot and fast, her fingers tangling in those curls, the sand shifting beneath them under the blanket.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, breaking her thought. The memory shattered.

“I didn’t sleep well.” The back of the chair dug into her stomach as she leaned against it. She pushed away, circling to sit down. Self-consciously, she yanked the hem of the shirt she wore down past her knees.

“Yeah, me either. Figured I’d try to make breakfast.” He cracked an egg, tossing the shells into the garbage can. “Thought maybe you’d want some.” He smiled then, and the motion sent her off kilter as if two worlds had overlapped, the perfect untouched glow of their weeks together wrapping around her unease, trying to smother it.

She dragged her attention away, her eyes roaming until they settled on the blue garbage can next to him. She heard the crack as he broke another egg, the white shells landing on top of old coffee filters and empty soda cans. Under the shells, a burnt pile of scrambled eggs still steamed lightly.

Eden shifted in the chair, dropping her feet to the cold tile. “They need milk,” she said.

“Thanks.” Opening the refrigerator, he scanned the shelves until he found the carton, adding a splash to the pan of yolks and white goo. He glanced up at Eden’s sigh.

“Typically you add the milk before you start cooking the eggs.”

A blush colored his cheeks. “Yeah, I haven’t cooked in a while,” he said, going back to his scrambling with renewed vigor. The milk sloshed across the nearly cooked eggs.

“I had a nightmare,” she said. He half turned toward her, the spatula still clanking against the pan. “That’s what woke me up,” she added awkwardly, not sure where the need to tell him came from.

“What about?”

The details were long gone, just a trace of wrongness curled in her stomach. “I don’t remember.”

He nodded. “Happens like that sometimes.” He watched the eggs, concentrating as though they’d become the whole universe. He flipped them, cutting chunks away and mixing the last of the uncooked parts. Milk steamed at the bottom of the pan. “Your brain shuts out the bad stuff.” He held the handle of the utensil so tight his fingers went white.

She scratched a nail against the wood of the chair, the dream pushed far back. They were alone. She could ask him all the questions she’d spent months agonizing over.

Unfortunately, the fact that he was standing in her kitchen was more than a little unsettling. She’d run through every scenario of them meeting. Honed bits of dialogue, sharpened her wit to a razor-edge, ready to slice
him as deep as she’d been cut, no matter the situation. Waking up to Az cooking eggs in her kitchen had never made the list.

“It’s throwing me off,” she said, breaking the silence.

He finally looked up, turning the heat down on the burner before he leaned against the back wall. “Are we still talking about the dream?”

“No. We’re talking about
you
, Az. I don’t want you here.”

He crossed his arms. “And here it comes,” he mumbled.

“Here what comes?” she asked, her voice clipped.

“Yesterday…maybe even last night, I would have gone all apologetic. You could have played the jaded card for however long it took me to win you back. But not anymore.” His voice was controlled; each word thought out and delivered for maximum impact. Clearly she hadn’t been the only one plotting this moment. “You don’t love him,” he said quietly. “You know that, right? He’s a replacement, Eden.” He almost managed to hide the quaver in his voice.

Who are you trying to convince, Az?
She opened her mouth to say the words, go for the kill. But when her voice came she said, “Why did you make me think you were dead?”

The way he paused, she knew he’d expected her to fight him about Adam and what he meant to her, maybe
even counted on it. She watched him run a hand through his hair, heard the frustrated “fuck” he whispered.

“Why?” He slammed a hand on the counter, lowered his voice. “Because I’m flawed. Selfish.” He set the spatula down, bowing his head. She watched the emotions struggle across his face. Part of her wanted to reach out to him, touch him.

“Do you need me to get Gabe?”

“No! You need to hear this.” He shuddered, gripping the countertop. “We just wanted to get away, Eden. Gabe and I, take a vacation. And then I met you. I thought it was safe.” He glanced up. “But we were found. The Fallen.”

“So you faked your death to get away?” she asked, exasperated.

“The Fallen don’t like me happy, Eden. They saw me with you. I knew what they would do if they got a hold of you.” He swallowed hard. “See, they don’t come after me. They come after anyone I love. Torture, kill, with the hope that I’ll give in and Fall. Do you know what that’s like for me?”

“So you pushed me to kill
myself
. How does that make you any different than them?”

“I am
not
one of them.” His eyes flashed a violet swirl of anger and sorrow before he closed them. When he blinked them open again, they’d faded back to a resigned
cornflower. “On the beach, the night you met me, what were you doing, Eden?”

“I was…” She looked away at the dark memory of the days before she’d met him. He crossed the room, squeezed her hands.

“You know you would have killed yourself if we hadn’t found each other. I kept you alive as much as you kept me from Falling. But keeping you happy kept you mortal. I just wanted us to have a chance to be together.”

She met his eyes, let him see what his loss had done to her. What it was still doing to her.

“I fucked up. I should have told you everything.” He cursed under his breath, running his finger over her thumb. “We can fix this, right?”

“I don’t think we can. If you’d come to Kristen’s—” She dropped her gaze, couldn’t stand to see the regret in his eyes. “Why couldn’t you have just trusted me?”

“What’s burning?” Gabe stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his hair tousled. He stepped into the room, scrunching his nose, yesterday’s broken ankle healed. Eden snatched her hands from Az. Behind him, the pan gave off plumes of fresh smoke, blooming against the ceiling.

“Damn it!” He pulled the pan from the burner.

“Az trying to cook breakfast.” Gabe smiled, rubbing an eye. “The bane of overworked chickens everywhere.”
He flopped into the chair next to Eden, yawning as he watched Az poke at the charred remains. “Those are not edible, so don’t even try to pass them off. He tell you about the time he almost burned down our apartment over a few pizza rolls?” Gabe snickered.

Az scraped his second failed attempt into the trash. “We got to talking. I was just distracted,” he said, his voice genial as he pointed the spatula at Eden. She followed his lead, trying to smile. Just talking. She almost managed it, but Az’s words ricocheted through her mind.
We can fix this, right?

“Talking, eh?” Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Then why does she look like you two just got busted?”

Eden’s grin faded. Az cast an embarrassed glance her way.

“Gabe,” he said, his voice low. “We were just talking.”

“Just like old times.” He shrugged off the flicker of warning in Az’s eyes. “Minus her boy on the side, of course,” he added.

“You’re such an ass, Gabe,” she mumbled, rising so fast the chair fell back, clattering against the wall.

She heard Az, his bitter, “Damn it, Gabe,” followed by the rush of his feet. He caught her arm in the living room.

“Eden,” he said as she tried to pull free of his grasp.

“Why are you doing this to me!” she yelled, loud
enough that she was sure the door she stood in front of would open, and Adam would come charging out. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

He still held her wrist, but his fingers were loose, the thumb making delicate circles as he waited for her to finish.

“I’m with Adam now,” she insisted. “There’s nothing left to fix.” She wanted to go on, wanted to say so much more. But she couldn’t pull her attention away from the tender way he held her arm. It would be easier if he screamed, argued, if he’d let her pick a fight. Anything.

“Let’s just stop, start over,” he whispered. “We were great together. We can be like that again.”

“Like it’s that easy?” she argued. Her hand was starting to shake. She slid a ring over her knuckle, driving it back against the web of her fingers, letting the motion soothe her.

“It could be. I did everything I could to help you.”

“You’re honestly gonna try to lie your way out of this, too? You didn’t do anything for me.”

“How’d you get this apartment, Eden? Panhandling?” he grimaced, shaking his head. “No, that’s not it. Maybe a rumor started after you left Kristen’s? One that benefited you?” He fell silent, waiting for her to make the connection.

Her mouth dropped open at the revelation. “You…
you sent them. You told the Siders that I could free them?”

“Fifty bucks seemed more than fair.”

“Do you have any idea what you did?” She shook her head, her chest tight. “Az, I was supposed to keep a low profile.”

“I only told a few Siders. Just enough to get you a hotel until you figured out an apartment. I figured it would die out pretty quick once you stopped.” He glanced up, his voice unsure. “Why didn’t you stop?”

“What does it matter?”

“Eden.” All he had to do was say her name. A gentle breath of letters. There was so much there that only she understood, layers calling her out. He wrapped his arms around her when she didn’t answer. “What’s going on?”

She’d wanted so much to be held by him for so long and now it felt tainted. “Forget about all that other stuff, okay?” He paused, running a hand down her cheek, his eyes full of pain. “Why didn’t you stop?”

“I…” She hesitated, pulling away to meet his eyes. “I couldn’t,” she whispered. “They need me. You wouldn’t understand.” She dropped his hand and sat down on the armrest of the couch. His head leaned forward, his long black bangs hiding his face.

“You come here, after everything that’s happened and…I’ve spent the last months trying to get
over
you!”
Eden stopped, starting over. “What right do you have to do this to me?”

Az looked up in surprise. “Every right.” He lowered his voice until she had to close her eyes and concentrate to make out the words. His hands rose to her shoulders. “I’m gonna fix it. I don’t care how long it takes. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

She took a deep breath. “You’re not forgiven yet. You know that, right?” she said, wishing she’d just kept quiet. It had been the eyes. And the fingers on her skin. And the…
Shut up
, she told herself. “How the hell do you think you’re going to fix things?”

He smiled. “Let’s start small. Something that I’m sure will make you happy,” he said quietly, standing and taking a hesitant step toward her.

“And just what would that be?” She stepped away from him, compensating, but he walked past her, heading for the front door. He winked as he opened it.

“Breakfast. I’ll be back in a few.”

She stood there for a moment, watching the closed door and wondering what the hell had just happened. Memories rose, rippling like pebbles tossed into the lies she’d told herself to try to forget about him. Before they could wash over her, she headed back to the kitchen.

Eden didn’t say a word to Gabe as she passed him on her way to the sink. Instead, she cranked on the hot water,
squeezing too much soap onto the sponge. She pulled the pan Az had used from where he’d left it on the stove and scrubbed at the charred crust on the bottom.

“You know,” she said finally, slopping the sponge back into the water, “I really didn’t appreciate that.” She slid a glance over her shoulder and was surprised to find Gabe smiling.

“Yeah, that was kinda bad form,” he said.

“So do you have some kind of problem with Adam all of a sudden? I don’t get it, Gabe. You knew about him and it didn’t seem to bother you much before.” She gave up on the pan, leaving it to soak, and dried her hands on a paper towel.

“Because I was sure with Az back in the picture the choice would be clear. You belong with him, Eden.”

“Why?”

“Because he belongs with you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Eden scoffed. “A bit dramatic, Gabe.”

“Do what you need to do, but you know what they say, right?” he asked smiling. “Once you go celestial…” He paused before laughing. “Yeah, I got nothin’.” He reached out his hand and took hers, his face going serious. “You do realize, if you and him don’t make it, he won’t last.”

“That’s not fair,” she whispered.

“But it’s the truth.” He squeezed her hand. “He’ll Fall. We’ll lose him.”

Adam rounded the corner as Gabe was dropping her hand. Eden blushed as he passed by, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of juice. He wrapped an arm around her from behind, kissing her cheek.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked. “You weren’t there when I woke up.”

She held Gabe’s gaze as she lowered her hand to stroke Adam’s arm. “But you were there when I did,” she said. She felt him smile against her skin.

Adam stood behind her, resting his head on her shoulder. “Where’s the other one?” he asked.

She couldn’t see Adam’s face, but Gabe’s went hard.