The Rise of Babylon

by G. A. Rael

  “Thank you,” Jordan murmured. “But there’s one more thing. His name is Luthias now.”

  “Luthias?” Samael echoed, looking down at Chase. “The hell kind of name is that?”

  “Fae, apparently,” said Jordan. “And to answer your earlier question, Darren, I think this is what Hermes looks like between his angelic and demonic states.”

  “Great,” muttered Darren. “Only question is, which one’s real?”

  A faint smile crossed her lips. “As soon as I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”

  Epilogue

  Hermes

  “You think he's ever gonna wake up?”

  The werewolf's husky voice dragged through Hermes’s consciousness like claws on a chalkboard. The demon's lip twitched in an instinctive snarl. He couldn't open his eyes yet—he hadn't anticipated taking Jordan back through the portal, and shielding her from the radiation had drained him in his weaker demonic state—but he could tell he was being kept in some dank basement dungeon. It was bad enough without adding the smell of wet dog to the mix.

  “Just a matter of time,” said Samael. His drawl was only slightly less agitating than the dog's bark. Both were giving Hermes a migraine, to say nothing of the glaring lights. He groaned as he lifted his head and his pupils narrowed into slits as he spotted them across the room. “Well, speak of the devil.”

  “If you're going to use that tired line every time we meet, please just have the vet put me down,” Hermes said through clenched teeth. His fangs dug into his bottom lip and he could feel the jagged bones of his angelic wings protruding from his back. That was new. The radiation from the portal must have weakened him so much he was stuck between forms.

  “Don't be such a sourpuss,” Sam taunted. “Looks like you're finally shakin' off the portal sickness.”

  “I'd be doing a lot better if you'd let me down,” he said, using what little leeway the shackles binding his wrists and ankles to the wall gave him to rattle the chains.

  “No can do. Fairy boy was a model interrogation subject,” said Sam. “We know he's been workin' for you this whole time and we know you were planning on shipping him and Jordan off to la-la land.”

  “For her own safety, you hydroponically grown imbecile.”

  Max laughed. “Why should we believe that? The way I see it, you've done nothing but lie from square one.”

  “I'm not schooling a dog on the finger points of angelic warfare,” Hermes spat. “Michael—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Samael said with a yawn. “Michael is rallying his forces, I heard the whole spiel from Luthias. Thing is, I've had my feelers out and there ain't been a peep of angelic activity within a hundred miles of here. Which makes me think you’re trumping this whole thing up for your own purposes.”

  “Nothing has happened because I've been preventing it from happening,” Hermes said, strained for patience. “I can’t very well protect her from a basement, can I?”

  “Who says she needs your protection?” Max challenged.

  “Listen here, you mange magnet,” Hermes snapped. “I brought you into this and I can take you out of it.”

  “You’re welcome to try.” Max took a threatening step forward before Samael held out an arm to stop him.

  “Alright, enough. Put whatever kinda cat-versus-dog grudge you've got on hold, we've got more important things to sort out,” said Sam. “Starting with why the hell you still look like that when Luthias looks like an upper-middle-class pencil pusher again.”

  “Luthias shielded Jordan through the portal. I shielded them both on the way back,” Hermes said, deciding to go along with their little question and answer session. He would find a way out, it was only a matter of waiting for an opportunity to exploit. “It was Plan Z, but I'm on the mend. You'd be wise to let me go before I can let myself out.”

  “No can do, partner. We don’t take orders from you anymore.”

  Max’s smirk spoke of his agreement. Hermes looked between them, frowning. “What are you idiots preening about now?”

  “You and Luthias are both under house arrest for the foreseeable future,” said Sam. “Him until he’s no longer a threat to himself and you until Jordan says so.”

  “Jordan?” Hermes scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually taking orders from her.”

  “Take it up with her,” Max said, glancing up at the ceiling as footsteps echoed through the dungeon. “Looks like you might get your chance.”

  Someone knocked on the door to the dungeon and Sam pulled it open to let Jordan inside. She looked more than recovered from the journey and Hermes’s heart stopped when he saw the cold look in her eyes. The mask was back on, and it went so perfectly with that tight black dress. Unfortunately, it was as lethal to the wearer as it was to the beholder. She was just too stubborn to realize it yet.

  “You’re awake,” she said casually, looking around the room like it was the first time she’d been there. She came to a stop beside Max and the werewolf’s eyes never left Hermes, as if he anticipated the escape the demon already had planned. He just didn’t have the juice at the moment. “That’s good. We have a lot to discuss.”

  Hermes chuckled. “I hear you’ve staged a mutiny while I was asleep. I’m impressed.”

  “Are you?” she asked boredly, looking to her two protectors. “I’d like to speak with him alone.”

  Neither of them moved, each looking worriedly at the other.

  “That’s not a good idea,” said Max. “He could manipulate you.”

  “He’s done little else since I met him,” Jordan shot back. “I think I know the drill by now. It’s you two I’m worried about.”

  “She has a point,” Hermes purred. “There’s a reason she shuts off her emotions whenever she’s around me. It’s the only way she can resist my charms. Isn’t that right, love?”

  Jordan turned an icy glare on him, but the confusion on the others’ faces told Hermes he’d succeeded in arousing their suspicions.

  “Leave us,” Jordan said through gritted teeth, keeping her eyes on Hermes. “Now.”

  Sam reluctantly moved to the door and Max followed. “We’ll be right outside.” Hermes knew the warning was meant for him more than Jordan. The door fell shut and he smiled at his petite captor.

  “You know, if you wanted to get me in chains, all you had to do was ask.”

  Jordan walked to stand in front of him, and the sweet smile on her lips didn’t match her cold eyes. “Always full of sarcasm,” she said, sweeping her hand down his cheek. Her touch made his skin burn with need and the hunger that was always there roared to a burning flame. It was harder to resist in this half-between state and he was almost relieved for the chains. “We’ll see how you feel after a few months.”

  “You want to punish me. I understand that,” he began. “You blame me for what happened with Chase, and that’s fine. I blame myself for not seeing through him sooner.”

  “This isn’t about Chase,” she said flatly. “This isn’t even about Luthias. I know he was just your pawn, like I’ve been from the beginning. This is about you, Hermes.”

  “Is that so?” He strained against the shackles, and it was only then that he noticed the magic forcefield in the air. She’d passed through it without a hitch, which meant she was the one who’d placed it, but that shouldn’t have been possible.

  She seemed to read his thoughts and her eyes glimmered in amusement. God, she was beautiful when she was wicked. “I’ve been reading your book. I found your hidden collection and it’s been very informative.”

  “While the cat’s away,” he muttered. “You know, there are spells in there that could kill you. Just like the mask you’re wearing now.”

  “So sweet of you to worry, but if I were you, I’d spare the concern for yourself.”

  “My, my. That sounds like a threat,” he taunted. “You really have been paying attention.”

  Jordan smiled. “I learned from the worst. But don’t worry, I brought you a present.”

/>   Hermes watched curiously as she dug something out of the bag on her shoulder. A collar. Black metal with a red gem in the center that hummed with magic.

  “Does this look familiar?” she asked innocently.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he seethed.

  “I found the drawing in your book, along with the ritual for pulling it from its portal,” she said, studying the artifact thoughtfully.

  “Smart,” he said, smirking. “Go ahead and put it on. See how it fits.”

  Jordan held his gaze. “I did my research, Hermes. I know a collar meant to bind a familiar won’t work on one who’s actually an angel.”

  His face fell. She really wasn’t the clueless witch he’d contracted with, but if she thought she was ready to face Michael on her own, she had another thing coming.

  “You know the one thing you taught me that’s always stayed with me?” she asked softly, running her finger along the collar’s curve. “It’s how to read between the lines. Figure out what the ritual doesn’t say.”

  “Jordan—”

  “Then I thought, how do you bind an angel? Besides the sigil carved on the other side of that door,” she said with a flippant wave. “But that’s just a matter of keeping you in. Keeping you in line is a whole different ballgame.”

  “You’ve a clever girl,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m sure you figured it out.”

  Her eyes darkened. “You make him fall,” she answered coldly. “For real, this time.”

  Hermes sneered. “You’d have to make me sin first. Something tells me even you don’t know me well enough to do that.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I don’t. But until you feel like telling me, you’re going to get very well acquainted with this basement.”

  “It’s not so bad,” he said, looking around. “A bit drab, perhaps, but nothing some nice curtains can’t fix. Incidentally, where are we?”

  “The Wylde family home,” she answered. “Colton mysteriously left town when I reported Lilian missing.”

  “Of course. And the changeling?”

  “He can’t be trusted.” There was a hint of sadness in Jordan’s voice, but it only lasted a moment.

  “Let me guess. He’s still overcome with grief and self-loathing over his dark passenger?”

  “That,” said Jordan. “And he seems to be under the impression that the baby is a danger to me in this realm.”

  Hermes’s eyes narrowed as he listened to her, convinced that this was just another ploy to get under his skin. Until he focused and sensed the faint energy that he hadn’t noticed before. “No,” he breathed, straining against the restraints. “That’s not possible. You can’t be…”

  “Read a biology book, Hermes. It’s very possible.”

  “The ritual hasn’t been completed yet,” he hissed. “It’s not the child of prophecy.”

  “You mean it’s not your child,” she corrected. “It’s not something you can use for your own agenda.”

  “Jordan, listen to me,” he pleaded, struggling to reach her. She was so close, but she’d never been further away. He’d never felt terror like the kind that washed over him, and she was oblivious enough to think it was selfishness and anger. Was this what it was to be human? To love something enough to destroy the world to protect it, and be helpless to do anything? “You don’t understand. The ritual will protect you, but it has to be done right. You will be sheltered as the mother of the lightbearer, but if this baby belongs to Luthias, it will kill you.”

  Jordan listened, emotionless. “You sound like Luthias.”

  Hermes froze. “He knew, didn’t he?” Possessiveness roared through him and the lights flickered. “He knew that thing was inside of you and he kept it from me.”

  “He kept it from us both,” said Jordan. “Apparently, he thought the physicians in the Glen could help us both and provide shelter from you. Given your reaction, I see he was right to be concerned.”

  “If he’s willing to let you have this child, he’s willing to let you die,” Hermes growled. “And I made a mistake in sparing his life.”

  “You’re both on the same page,” she said bitterly. “Now that we’re stuck on earth, he’s quite adamant about making my decision for me. Hence, why you’re both in a dungeon for the foreseeable future.”

  “There won’t be a future if that thing remains inside you.”

  “You say that like you give a shit what happens to me,” she hissed. “You just want your precious child and you’re throwing a tantrum because it’s not working out the way you planned.”

  “This isn’t about the lightbearer!” he cried. “This is about your life. I won’t lose you, Jordan. I won’t.”

  “You already have,” she said icily. “As for my life, and this baby, neither are yours to control. Not anymore.”

  She turned to walk away and he threw himself against the restraints. The chain creaked as it pulled away from the brick, but the forcefield remained unbroken. “Jordan!” Hermes bellowed, desperate to get through to her. She’d cut off the link between them somehow. That or the mask was taking over more quickly than he’d feared. “Don’t do this. You need me.”

  She turned to face him and the look in her eyes left no room to doubt that the awakening had already begun, whether the ritual was complete or not. The woman he loved was born of fire, but the creature standing before him was solid ice. “I did need you,” she said calmly, pulling the door closed behind her. “That’s a mistake I’ll never make again.”

  To be continued in Harem of Babylon Book 3: The Fall…

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