The Rise of Babylon

by G. A. Rael

  Rise of Babylon

  Harem of Babylon Book 2

  G.A. Rael

  Also by G.A. Rael

  The Nocturne Agency Series (Completed)

  The Nocturne Agency

  Twice Bitten

  Blood and Water

  The Harem of Babylon Series (Reverse Harem)

  The Witch’s Familiars

  The Rise of Babylon

  The Fall (Coming Soon)

  Social

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  https://www.facebook.com/garaelauthor/

  Want a free read from yours truly? Press here!

  Chapter One

  Darren

  The Night of the Fall

  Darren struggled to pay attention as Allison prattled on about the wedding. It was always something about the wedding. In fact, he couldn't recall a single conversation since his inadvertent proposal that hadn't revolved around the wedding in some fashion.

  Sometimes he fantasized about how nice it would feel to put a bullet in his skull before they ever made it down the aisle. Just to spite her.

  "Darren!" Allison’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Gone was the soft, sultry tone that had lured him into thinking she had grown up from the selfish, loud-mouthed girl he had known in high school.

  "What?" The response came out harsher than he'd intended. His voice sounded like he'd swallowed fire.

  Allison stared at him for a moment, but whether she was hurt or merely shocked that he had dared to use that tone with her, it was hard to tell. Either way, her momentary silence eased the throbbing in his temples.

  "Never mind. I'm sorry I bored you by talking about all the hours I spent on the phone rescheduling with vendors since you decided pushed our wedding date back again," she said, folding her arms. He knew he was expected to respond to her passive aggression, but he didn't have it in him.

  Not tonight.

  "Great. We'll talk about it another time," he said, standing to get another beer from the refrigerator. It was the only ounce of gluten left in the apartment after Allison had decided they were both going on a "cleanse" and his refusal to give it up along with everything else had been the cause of yet another fight.

  He found himself wondering when adult conversations had turned into an endless string of fights, but the even greater mystery was why he had ever thought that proposing would make it better.

  Darren popped the top on a can of beer and took a sip. Once he started drinking, he couldn't bring himself to stop until the can was empty.

  "Darren! You'll spoil your appetite," she scolded. "We have reservations."

  The can crumpled in what he had thought was only a light grasp. He stared at it in shock for a moment before tossing it in the recycling bin and fishing a bottle out of the back of the refrigerator.

  "I'm not a child." Again, his voice was gruffer than he meant it to be. "I don't need you telling me when I can have a beer. Besides, you're the one who wants to go out, not me," he said, collapsing on the couch.

  Aside from a short trip to the Smith family's farm to tend to a sick horse, it had been a routine day. The horses had acted strangely spooked around him, but he chalked it up to the full moon. As much as he wanted to dismiss it, he couldn't deny the strange effect the moon phase had on patients of both the two- and four-legged varieties. Even so, there was nothing that had happened at work to explain why he felt like he'd been run over by a truck and finished off by a bus.

  Maybe it was the fact that that night marked the third month since Jordan’s disappearance. Not that he was keeping track.

  "This is about her, isn't it?"

  Darren looked up, startled. Was Allison capable of reading his thoughts now? Was there no escape from her nagging?

  When Jordan’s face popped up on the screen of a local news report discussing what had become the second missing person's case in Cold Creek's history--not to mention the second in which Chase Wylde was personally involved--he chided himself for jumping to such an irrational conclusion.

  Darren shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You've been somewhere else ever since she disappeared," Allison said, moving to block his view of the screen. "I've tried to be understanding. I think I've been more than patient, despite the fact that everyone in this hick town either laughs at me behind my back or pities me for being in love with a man who would put off his own wedding just because his flaky ex-girlfriend ran away."

  "You make it sound like she just hopped on a train for California.”

  "She gave away all her shit and practically gave your weirdo friend a goodbye speech,” Allison cried, throwing up her hands. “If that’s not an open and shut case of flaking out, I don’t know what is!”

  "For the hundredth time, I'm going to tell you what I told the police," he muttered, rubbing his temples. The throbbing was back in full force. “Jordan has a crazy father and a fiancé who literally got away with murder once already. She's gone and it wasn't an accident."

  "Oh, would you give it a rest? The cops practically tore his house apart looking for her, and Chase was the one who called them as soon as she went missing," she said, pacing the length of the couch. Every tap of her heels on the floor was like a spike being driven into his brain. "If there was any evidence linking him to her disappearance, they would have found it by now. Besides, have you seen the guy around town lately? Perfect, plastic Chase has been walking around like a soulless zombie ever since she left. Someone actually gives a shit about his fiancée, and it isn't you."

  "It's an act," Darren muttered, flipping the channel to anything else. "Whatever he did to Jordan, he covered it up just like he did with Jess."

  Allison groaned and threw her head back, digging her hands into her hair. "You're supposed to be Mr. Logical, so why can't you just face the facts? Even if Jordan or whoever the hell she really is didn't just run off--which is exactly what she's spent the last few years doing, as you yourself admit--what makes you think sulking and posting fliers is going to do anything? She's been gone for months. You heard what the sheriff said, if someone is missing for longer than seventy-two hours --"

  "I know what the fucking sheriff said," he snapped.

  "Give it a rest, Darren! If Jordan isn't halfway across the country luring in another sucker the way she somehow managed to do with you and Chase, the bitch is dead."

  His eyes narrowed sharply. "Watch your mouth."

  Allison stared at him, slack-jawed. "You're kidding me."

  "Not in the least."

  "I'm your fiancée, Darren," she said, raising her voice. "I'm the woman you're going to spend the rest of your life with, remember? You chose me."

  "I chose wrong."

  He only realized that he had said the words out loud when she had been silent for more than a few seconds. He decided that whatever happened, it was worth the brief reprieve.

  "You did not just say that."

  "I guess I didn't, then."

  "If you think for one second you would have been happier with that backwoods whore --"

  "I said watch your mouth," he growled, standing. He stared at her for a long moment, unable to understand the fear in her eyes. When he realized he was brandishing an empty bottle in his hand, he dropped it, horrified. "I'm sorry, Allison. You know I would never hurt you."

  "Do I?" she asked, watching him with the same wary look he had seen in the eyes Peter Smith's horse earlier that day. "I don't know anymore, Darren. You're not yourself. When you're not working, you're drinking, and when you're not doing either of those things, you're spacing out."

  "Forgive me for being stressed out because someone I cared about is gone," he muttered.

  "It's been longer than that! You've been acting weird ever since we ra
n into Jordan and Chase at Raymond's. Her disappearance has just given you an excuse to be jealous of him."

  "Jealous?" he scoffed. "You're one to talk. I told you I didn't want to go over there, but you just had to throw our engagement in her face."

  "Excuse me? Throw it in her face? Listen to yourself. Not everyone is as obsessed with this chick as you are."

  Darren frowned. His thoughts had seemed to slow to a crawl as of late, but suddenly the wheels were turning like they used to. "Come to think of it, you talked to her that night, didn't you? After I left to pay the bill."

  "What?" Something shifted in her tone. She went from angry to defensive in a millisecond. "I don't know what you're on about, but I'm tired of talking about your ex. You’re like a broken record of a song I never liked in the first place.”

  "Good. Then maybe you'll finally have some idea of how I feel about your endless ramblings about table settings."

  “At least I'm trying to make sure we both have the perfect wedding."

  "Bullshit. You know I'd be happy with a courthouse ceremony. All the pomp is for you and the snooty friends from college you’re trying to impress.”

  "You talk like marrying me is such a chore. Why the fuck did you even propose to me, Darren?" she demanded.

  He paused. For a moment, the mental fog was cleared away and the answer was plain to him. "I don't know."

  "What?" The tenor of her voice told him that wasn't the right answer.

  "I'm sorry," he said immediately. Then he frowned. "Actually, no. I'm not. My thoughts are a blur and half the time I can barely even remember what day it is, but for the life of me, I have no goddamned idea why I proposed to you. Sometimes I think it was just to shut you up."

  The sharp sound of her hand connecting with his face rang in his ears before the pain hit. He was only distantly aware of it, but that characterized the way he felt about everything lately. He absently rested his hand on his cheek and when Allison came into focus again, her chest was heaving with rage.

  "You fucking asshole."

  "Yeah," he muttered, shuffling back over to the refrigerator to get another beer. "You should probably break up with me." He reached in and stopped halfway when the steak on the top shelf drew his attention. The whole refrigerator had a metallic odor even though he’d just cleaned it from top to bottom the day before. It was the strangest thing, but he was suddenly overcome with the urge to eat the whole steak raw then and there. It was such a strong impulse, in fact, that he shut the door and forgot all about the beer out of fear that he might act on it.

  The sound of heels on the tile as Allison stalked after him was enough to conjure images of driving one of those spiky stilettos into his temple. At least then the noise would stop. "What the hell is wrong with you? You finally get another chance with me and this is how you treat me?"

  "Funny how you'd be out the door if I cared," Darren muttered, leaning against the counter. The weakness and agitation came in alternating waves. "If only I'd realized in high school that treating you with apathy was the only way to keep you from fucking the quarterback."

  Allison's eyes shone with some emotion that was either rage or lust, and he was still trying to decide which one it was when she came toward him. When she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him passionately, he realized the answer was both. He returned the kiss, if only because it was an outlet for the aggression rising like the tide within his chest.

  He felt nothing. Not like he had with Jordan. It was all numb. Meaningless. He broke the kiss when the taste of her lip gloss made him want to vomit. Some wires had gotten crossed somehow.

  “You love me,” Allison said, her voice quivering with determination. “You can end this if you want, but don’t lie to yourself and think you won’t just come crawling back. But by all means, go chase her and see if that pathetic virgin gives you half of what I have.”

  Darren froze and it felt like a crack had just formed in the surface of his world, waiting to shatter everything. “What?”

  “I know you,” Allison said pointedly. “The gentleman thing is an act. You need a woman to keep you satisfied, Darren, not a sheltered, inexperienced girl."

  His frown deepened. "I never told you Jordan was a virgin."

  "What? Of course you did. Probably while you were drunk or something."

  "No," he said firmly, crossing his arms. "I never would have told you that. I might not be a gentleman like you say, but I'm not a pig."

  “Whatever,” she said, shrugging. "Must have heard it from somewhere else, then. This town is full of gossips."

  Darren’s eyes narrowed and he moved to stand directly in front of her. “You never answered my question. What did you talk about when I left you and Jordan alone that night at Raymond's?"

  "Oh come on, Darren," Allison muttered. “Let’s just forget about this and go out for dinner. I’m willing to look past tonight if you are.”

  "Answer the question, Allison. What did you say to her?"

  "I said she was lucky. I told her Chase was a great guy and warned her not to break his heart, okay?" She walked over to the refrigerator, grabbing a half-finished bottle of wine from the night before off the shelf.

  When she reached for a glass, Darren tried to snatch it out of her hand but wound up knocking it to the floor instead. He looked up from the pile of glass and fixed his gaze on her. "Why don't I believe you?"

  "Great. That was crystal," Allison said, staring forlornly at the shattered glass. "They don't even make that set anymore."

  "I think we'll find a way to survive. This isn't over until I get an answer."

  "You know, the new macho Darren is very sexy," she purred, running her hand down his bare chest. “We could always skip dinner and take this into the bedroom.”

  He brushed her hand aside. "An answer, Allison. This time an honest one."

  She rolled her eyes. "My God, you nag like a woman. Fine. The topic of Little Miss Perfect's chastity belt may have come up once during the conversation."

  "How the hell does something like that just come up?" he growled.

  "Like I said, I must have heard it from someone in town! Not like it would have taken a lot of guesswork to figure out. Men are only this obsessive over women they haven't conquered."

  "You know what? I don't really give a shit how you found out. All I want to know is exactly what you said to her."

  "Darren --"

  "Now, or I walk."

  Her eyes widened. "You can't be serious."

  "Deathly."

  Allison's fists clenched at her sides so hard that her nails left imprints in her palms. "Fine. You wanna know what I said? I told Jordan that she was dreaming if she thought you'd actually settle for a plain Jane virgin like her. I told her you needed a real woman, not a charity case. That you thought she was a joke and the only reason Chase is willing to put up with her is because he's a fucking shark who gets off on taking advantage of stupid little girls like her, and you know what? I did her a favor, because every single word of it was true and it kept her from sniffing around you."

  Darren let her continue only because he was struggling to restrain himself. He had never in his entire life been tempted to hurt a woman, but he didn’t trust the dark hunger that rose in his chest. This wasn’t just anger, it was something he’d never felt before, and something he would have run from if he didn’t already have a feeling that it was inescapable. His fists trembled at his sides and the warm, sticky substance dripping onto the floor was his only indicator that his own nails had dug into his flesh.

  "Get out," he said, his voice quaking with rage. The words came out in an unnaturally low tone he hadn't thought his throat was capable of producing. "Get the fuck out now or so help me God, I don't know what I'll do."

  Allison stared at him in disbelief, but judging from the way her eyes darted over him warily, there was part of her that believed him. "You'll regret this," she said, slipping into her heels and jacket without taking her eye off of him.

  "Not
as much as we'll both regret it if you stay here," he growled. "I want all your shit gone by tomorrow night."

  "Darren --"

  "Who was it?"

  Allison frowned in confusion. "What?"

  "I should have known something was up when you dragged me to Raymond's that night after we'd just been the day before," he muttered. "You acted like you already knew Jordan and I had dated when I told you and I'm willing to bet the person who filled you in is the same person who gave you that juicy little morsel of gossip you held over her head," he said, slamming his fist into the counter in order to have some control over where it went. He was too blinded by rage to notice that he had cracked the marble surface. "I want to know who."

  "Fine," she muttered. "It was Chase, okay? He came to me not long after you and I started dating again. He thought I should know that you were still carrying a torch for Jordan. I didn't believe him at first, but I guess the joke was on me."

  "Get out." The words didn't seem to come from him. They didn't even sound like they had come from a human.

  The rage that he had begun to get a handle on surged out of control at the mention of Chase’s name and with a single swipe of his arm, everything on the counter went flying. Darren didn't even bother to look to see if she was gone. The sound of the door slamming was enough.

  Chapter Two

  Jordan

  Present Day

  Reports of what locals were calling the “Missing Meteor” had been circulating all over the Northeast. Jordan had been listening to the news stories following the bizarre phenomenon as she drifted in and out of sleep. The sheets on the plush bed were much too soft to be her own, and the familiar aftershave permeating the clean fabric told her she’d somehow ended up back in Chase’s house.

  Raguel, her stay in Paradise, the revelation that Hermes was one of her consorts, the fall… It all blurred together, forming a strange dream she could no longer separate from reality. Was any of it real? She couldn’t open her eyes long enough to measure any of it for herself. Each time she tried, exhaustion would push her back under the troubled waters of her memory.