A Touch Menacing by Leah Clifford Page A

on the move, loitering in shops only long enough to get warm. Eventually, Eden had needed Sullivan’s help to walk.
    Now, grit caked Eden’s palms and nail beds. She could smell the cinders on her cheeks, the ashes flaking from her hair. Slowly, she removed her scarf. “How bad?”
    Sullivan winced, swiping at Eden’s cheek before she licked her thumb and wiped harder. The skin there felt tight, fragile and falling apart. “God, you look like death warmed over,” Sullivan whispered.
    A well-timed shiver shook through Eden. She managed a weak chuckle. “Not so warm.”
    Jarrod studied her face, concerned. “Just a few more minutes, Eden.”
    “I’m hanging in there,” she wheezed. A cough tickled her windpipe, but she swallowed it down despite the taste in the back of her throat.
    Jarrod took her elbow, Sullivan on the other side. “I really don’t like this, though,” he said.
    “I don’t like it either,” Eden said. Earlier, Madeline had agreed to help them, to meet her. Half an hour ago, Eden had gotten a text from her abruptly retracting the offer. When Eden asked for a reason, there’d been no response. Kristen hadn’t answered her calls. She had no number for Erin, or Vaughn, though she couldn’t imagine calling him.
    Eden scanned the pedestrians walking on either side of the street, the rooftops above them. Coming back to the apartment after Gabe’s warning was foolish, stupid, but she had no choice. Without a Sider, she’d crumble to ash. “If there’s anyone on the stairs,” she said, trying to reassure Jarrod and Sullivan, “I’ll take them quick and we’ll head to Milton’s. Maybe there’s a chance Zach can help us. We at least need to warn him.”
    “And he should know how to find some other Siders in the area,” Jarrod said.
    Eden squeezed Jarrod’s shoulder hard as a sharp knife of pain stabbed through her. Just as they reached the alley, her legs wobbled. She fought to stay on her feet. Jarrod hitched her up. “You’ve gotta walk, Eden.”
    “It hurts so bad,” she panted. Agony blurred her vision. The stairs were so close. If she could just rest for a bit, she knew she could make it. “Stop. Just for a second.”
    Before she knew what was happening, Jarrod had set her down and taken off. Sullivan called his name and he twisted around as he ran. “Stay with her,” he demanded.
    Eden curled up, not caring about the dirty slush she lay in. “If I don’t . . . Take care of Jarrod, okay?” she begged Sullivan.
    “Jesus, Academy Award, he’s already on his way back.” The sarcasm nearly hid the fear in Sullivan’s voice. “You’re not gonna die in the next ten seconds.”
    Eden swiped the gathering ashes from her eyes, didn’t believe it until she saw four blurred shapes hurrying toward her. Jarrod dropped down beside her, lifted her until she was sitting. “Ready?” he asked, panting.
    The first Sider, a girl, came forward, close. Eden let out a strangled exhale and the girl disintegrated into ash, settling on the dirty drifts of snow.
    A tingle spread over Eden’s cheekbones and tickled down her windpipe as her body used the Touch to heal. She laid her head back against Jarrod’s shoulder in relief. Her skin buzzed, electric. She didn’t have to look at her hands to know the gray on her fingers would be gone, if only for a little while.
    Sullivan stared at her in wonder. “You look much better,” she said.
    “We cut it a little too close that time,” Jarrod said as he moved out from behind Eden.
    Eden dragged the sleeve of her coat over her face. When she looked up, her vision had cleared, though her eyes were still irritated. “I need another,” she said.
    There were two guys left. One stepped forward. The closer he got, the more she could see the heaviness of the Touch he carried. How much he wanted to be free of it. More importantly, he hadn’t been passing.
    “Wait. You,” she said to the other Sider as she struggled to her feet. “Have a phone?”