out from some shelf she couldn’t see, he set it next to the register and handed her a bag. She already knew what it would contain—two dozen packets of Equal, creamers, and a few stir sticks thrown in for good measure. “You’re late today.”
Eden looked up at the clock. Two minutes past eleven.
“I had something,” she said, not bothering to elaborate. “How goes it, Zach?” she asked, squinting as she dropped the bill onto the counter. She rubbed her wrist absently, pain lingering in the joints.
Behind the counter, Zach shrugged. “It goes,” he said. He swiped the money from the counter, entering the numbers into the cash register. As always, his hands were gloved, the latex enough to keep him from spreading Touch to customers.
“Money tight?” she asked pointedly. She’d offered to put Zach up, have him join them and let her worry about the bills. So far he hadn’t taken her up on the offer.
As usual, he only smiled, replied with the same lines he always did. “I’ll consider it, Eden. No promises, though.”
Other Siders lived in the area too, though they feared her enough to maintain some distance. They’d heard the rumor. If a Sider sought Eden out, it was for one reason. She didn’t mind their nearness, did her best to stay just another face in the crowd.
She sighed. “It’s tight, but we could upgrade to a bigger apartment if you moved in.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” he said, amused.
She’d kept her group small to stay under the radar. Clearly that plan was failing. If she needed backup, there was only Jarrod and Adam. The fact was, she needed to start building her numbers. Just because word of her hadn’t gotten to the Fallen didn’t mean it wouldn’t. She’d taken in James out of pity. The kid had been scared and alone. Living on the streets. Zack, however, would be able to handle it if she needed to pass him Touch to get rid of what she took from the other Siders. She slipped an extra ten into the tip jar. Half full of coins and bills, the chipped cup had a new sign taped around it.
Eden angled it away from her as she read. “‘Thanks a latte’? Are you fucking serious?”
Behind the counter, Zach only laughed.
“No way am I claiming that one. New guy. He’s taking over the opening shift on Monday and Thursday. I trained him, so he knows the routine. Told him you were VIP…that Carol-Anne chick’s dark, twisty sister.” He grinned at Eden’s confusion. “Theeeeyyy’re hhhheeeeeeeeeere.” She groaned, trying to kill her smile. “Poltergeist!” Zach laughed. “Come on, that’s classic!”
Eden shook her head, balancing the to-go tray in one hand and opening the door with the other, the bag of extras tucked between the cups. “Thanks, Zach. See you tomorrow.”
James wasn’t waiting for her. She didn’t bother taking off her coat as she made her way across the living room.
“One of those for me?” Jarrod didn’t give her enough time to answer before jumping up to take the tray. “Adam! Coffee’s here!” he called toward the kitchen, before fully turning his attention her way. “How many were out there today?”
“Just two,” she lied. Both he and Adam had been worried, wondering how much Touch she could take in before it became too much. So far, aside from the brief pain after, she’d managed. She’d also gotten better at hiding it when she didn’t.
“Thanks for the coffee.” His face held no expression, his voice monotone.
“If there’s a problem, I’ll let you know.” She’d been dosing Adam and Jarrod, sure she was too potent to pass to the mortals with any chance of them making it through. She held his gaze as she crossed the room, gave the door of the boys’ room a cursory knock.
“He’s in the bathroom,” Jarrod said.
James didn’t notice when the door opened. Eden watched him, crumpled against the tub and drawing a razor blade down the length of his left wrist. Brow furrowed in concentration and pain, his trembling hands only managed to gash a few weak lines down the right. The doorframe creaked when she leaned against it, loud enough that James finally looked up, his expression guilty.
“We’re back to the wrists again?” she asked. A long moment stretched out before he bowed his head, the blade falling from his hand.
“It helps sometimes,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Eden had never heard him sound so tired.
“You can’t kill yourself. It doesn’t work.” She reached into the medicine cabinet, moved aside a