A Touch Menacing (A Touch Trilogy #3) - Leah Clifford Page 0,2

He’s not Bound.”

“What does that mean? He Fell?” Az wouldn’t stay away, she thought. Not by choice. The words stole her breath; her hands started to tremble. “Where is he now?”

He’s gone, she thought, and I didn’t know. “Did they—” she got out before everything inside her broke. Did they kill him? She couldn’t get the words past her lips, but with Gabriel, there was no need.

Gabe looked stricken. “No! Oh, sweetheart, it’s not that.”

She slumped, her sigh choking off in a cough. Concern filled Gabriel’s eyes.

Swiping the tears on her face, she snuck a look at her palm as she dropped it to her lap. The center was gray-black with ashes, her fingers inky. “Keep going,” she said. “Please.”

“He came Upstairs willingly,” Gabriel continued, “so they know he had true intent. They’re sure it’s only a matter of time before he gives in and agrees to become Bound again. They will wait.” His irises burned in turbulent swirls of color. “He’s in a cell.”

“You’re not just going to leave him there,” she said in disbelief. “Can you get to him?”

“I can’t, Eden.” His voice shook.

Gabe wanted her to know. Why? Why had he come to tell her this when he hadn’t shown his face until now?

You can’t help Az, she thought, but I can. Is that what you want, Gabe?

He winced as if tasting something terrible, and she knew he’d wanted to lie. Gabriel had grown used to being Fallen.

She got to her feet and strode across the room to the door, the idea of how she could get Az back beginning to take shape. She had to get down to the alley.

“Why the alley?” Gabriel asked as she yanked on one of her boots and zipped it up her calf. “What are you going to do? Your thoughts are scattered.”

“Oh, come on, Gabe,” she snapped, pulling on the other boot. When she glanced up, Gabe was off the couch, circling around her. “If I can help Az, I’m doing it alone. There’s not a chance I’m bringing you down with me. Leave.”

At the demand, the air in the living room almost seemed to thicken. Gabriel’s shoulders pulled back, stiff with tension. “Look, you shouldn’t interfere with this,” he said. “It’s suicide!”

Eden smirked. “Not for me.”

I have the upper hand against the Bound, she realized. Siders she sent on stayed Siders, passing Touch Upstairs. It worked differently up there. Here, mortals were passed Touch and it only amped up what they were feeling, for good or bad. Upstairs—or Downstairs, for that matter—the Touch killed the souls. Permanently.

Fine. If the Bound thought they could take Az, could hunt her and her friends, Eden would declare war. “They want to see what infecting their realms really looks like? I’ll show them.” She grabbed her coat as she opened the door, refusing to let her terror shake her resolve the way it shook her hands. “Tell them I’ll stop when they let Az go.”

“Eden, they already want you most of all. You can’t act against them,” Gabe said. “I can’t allow it.”

Clenching her jaw, she forced away the fear she knew must be so obvious to him before she turned back. “Luckily, I’m not asking your permission.”

“I’ll hurt you if I have to,” Gabriel said as he grabbed her arm. She looked down at his hand in surprise, pain radiating from the already forming bruise. “Step away from the door. Back toward the couch,” he commanded. Any resemblance to the gentle Gabe she remembered dissolved. “Now where the hell,” he said quietly, “is Jarrod?”

CHAPTER 1

Everything hurt.

Eden clenched her teeth as the ache in her gut sharpened to a knifepoint. One more minute, she promised herself as the pains worsened. She grabbed the edge of her closet door and used it to keep herself standing.

A week ago, Az had found out the reason she was sick was that she wasn’t taking out Siders. That without using her strange ability to kill the Siders and absorb their Touch, she would turn to ash. And now Az is gone, she thought. And you’re still crumbling from the inside out.

A stubborn tear dripped down her cheek and hung from her chin. When it dropped and soaked into her sleeve, the ring of gray residue left behind proved to her how badly she needed to take out a Sider.

Her whole body seized with pain. “It’ll stop,” she croaked, knowing the worst part was coming. She wrung the bottom of her shirt, fighting not to cry out. The