A Touch Mortal by Leah Clifford

welled up. So it was some kind of memorial. “I’m…it was unexpected.” For some reason the comment brought an appreciative chuckle from the other girl.
    “How could you have known?” Her smile faded before she caught it, pinned her cheeks back with renewed vigor. Her eyes jolted to the stairs and back, almost too quick to catch. “Well, you must be special. Kristen brought out the good china for your little shindig,” she prodded, flicking a hand to the stenciled teacup beside her. She lifted it, took a slow sip as she gave Eden a once-over. “Though I have no idea how you got past her wearing that attire.”
    “This isn’t my ‘shindig.’” Eden didn’t bother to dull the frustration from her voice. “Listen, I lost my boyfriend tonight, so I could honestly care less what you think about my—”
    “Boyfriend?” The statement clearly caught Madeline off guard. “I can guarantee your boyfriend’s not here.”
    Eden’s stomach twisted. “Lost as in he’s dead. Gabe must have brought me here after Az—”
    “Az?” she interrupted. “And Gabriel?”
    Eden hesitated. None of this made sense. “This is a memorial for Az, right? It’s the only reason Gabe would—”
    Madeline’s face paled, the only color surviving in two perfect swipes of rouge across her cheeks. “Are you saying Az is dead?” The teacup sloshed in her shaking hand, splashing onto the floral material of the cushion between them.
    Eden let out a slow breath. “There was an accident,” she said quietly. Madeline hadn’t known.
    The gathering wasn’t a memorial. Her eyes skirted the room for Gabe again, but didn’t find him. What if he didn’t bring me? She tried again to remember. She’d been on the beach, alone. Gabe had been worried about the Fallen. You don’t know what they look like. Dread trickled into her as she turned back to Madeline. “Why am I here?” she asked.
    In her peripheral vision she saw a figure break from the crowd. Her gaze shot up as a red-gowned girl barreled toward them, long brown hair streaming down her back, eyes brimming with madness.
    “That piece of furniture you’ve just ruined is older than you could ever hope to become,” she screeched, snatching the cup away. She slammed it down, the rest of the tea dripping off the end table onto the carpet.
    “Kristen!” Madeline yelled. The room around them stopped. Eden turned, meeting dozens of eyes now lockedon their corner. Madeline thrust a finger into Eden’s face. She dropped her voice to an accusatory hiss too low to be heard by any but the three of them. “She seems to think Az is dead. Care to clarify why I wasn’t told?”
    “Possibly because you don’t need to know everything.” She spun on Eden. “Who told you to talk to Madeline? You were supposed to stay with Cameron to avoid this very thing.” Kristen let loose a squeal of frustration, slamming her foot down. “You’re ruining everything! And after the energy I’ve expended to make you feel welcome?”
    “Welcome her?” Madeline sneered. “Kristen, there are more important things than one of your hideous debut parties! What happened to Az?”
    Kristen’s jaw dropped, brown eyes filling with rage. “My parties are not hideous!”
    The crowd parted again to let a guy through. He stepped in front of Kristen, his face eerily calm as his eyes locked on Madeline, his hand clamping onto her shoulder.
    “You’re only scaring the poor girl, Madeline.” His voice was a warning. “Kristen, perhaps we should call it a night?” It wasn’t a command, the end lifted in a question. Kristen nodded.
    “Gentlemen and ladies,” he yelled, his voice booming. “The evening has come to an end.” The effect was instant, the room splitting in two. Half the dancers retreated up the staircase, down the left wing, the opposite directionEden had come from earlier. The others stood frozen, as if awaiting command.
    “Go home, Madeline,” the guy said. She glared at him, shrugging off