by G. A. Rael
Susan smiled. "All contracts have loopholes, Jordan. Remember that, too." She paused, glancing over her shoulder. "I've gotta run. My time's almost up, and so is yours. You don't want to be here when they find my body."
"Thank you, Susan. Wherever you end up, I hope it’s better than this."
Susan gave another musical laugh. "Oh, I'm sure it will be. The wonderful thing about the future is that no matter how shitty it turns out to be, it's still better than staying in the same place forever."
"I guess that's a good way to look at it," Jordan said, leaning down to gather her ritual tools. By the time she looked up again, the room was empty.
Twenty-Five
Three Months Later
The equinox festival seemed like it was a thousand years away, and Jordan’s life had changed so drastically in the time that had elapsed since then that she scarcely recognized it. The police had found Susan’s body even though they hadn’t been able to trace the former police officer beyond Pennsylvania, where he’d last used his credit card. The official story was that he had finally given up on his wife and decided to pull the plug before he cut town. Whenever Jordan came close to regretting her decision to accept Hermes’ offer, she’d catch a glimpse of the veterinarian who scarcely knew or cared that she existed and remember why it was worth it. Because Hermes had kept his promise, Darren could keep living his life—even if Jordan was no longer a part of it.
Once word spread about Ellie’s diagnosis, the fervor that had only just begun to die down around Jordan was reignited with a vengeance. Her apartment had become something of a waiting room for human and animal patients alike over the past three months. In the beginning, Jordan had assumed it would make life in Cold Creek even more difficult, but Hermes insisted it was the perfect opportunity to flex her atrophied magic. Jordan's knack for predicting tragedy had the ability to repel about as many folks as it attracted, and some folks said the witch herself was a bad omen.
She wasn't inclined to argue with them.
"You're sure this will work?" asked the young hipster seated on Jordan’s sofa. The woman had brought the Yorkie on her lap all the way from Boston on the suggestion of a friend of a friend whose Labrador Jordan had healed the month before. People trusted her more with their animals than their own ailments, it seemed. Mrs. Herrin was far from pleased.
"As long as you give him one of those vials tonight and then another a week from now on the full moon, I think you'll find his next scan at the vet will be clear," Jordan said with newly earned confidence.
"How much do I owe you?"
"No charge," said Jordan.
"You do all this for free?" the woman asked doubtfully.
Jordan smiled as the white cat leaped down from his perch on the windowsill and trotted across the room, setting the Yorkie off again.
"I wouldn't say it's free exactly,” she mused. "But I don't charge the people I help. All I ask is that you're discerning in who you choose to tell about my services."
The woman gave her a strange look as she deposited the Yorkie in her designer purse along with the small paper bag containing the tincture Jordan had given her. "If this works, I'm not sure what to think."
Jordan laughed. "That makes two of us. Have a good trip," she said, patting the little dog's head. It growled and she barely pulled her hand away in time to avoid the snap of its needlelike teeth.
Once her guests were gone, Jordan closed the door and turned around to find Hermes standing not far off in his human form, dressed only in the suit the devil gave him. "You've got a ways to go before you earn your animal whisperer badge."
"I've always been more of a cat person," she said dryly, turning away from his naked form. "Or at least, I was."
"You wound me," he said, suddenly standing behind Jordan. She shivered as he swept her hair over her shoulder and trailed a slender finger along her neck. “And here I thought we’d gotten close.”
By the time she turned around, Hermes was wearing jeans that rode low on his hips and left his lean chest and torso exposed. They looked oddly casual on him, even though Jordan was fairly certain from the designer label on the waistband that they had cost more than anything she owned.
"Can't you do something about that? I'd prefer not to get flashed every time I turn around." Not that the view was unpleasant. The demon was packing heat proportionate to the size of his ego. “I’d be happy if you just wore pants on a regular basis.”
"You'd be the first witch to complain about that."
"I'm sure," she muttered, opening another box she still hadn’t had time to unpack. She could feel Hermes watching her and turning around confirmed it. “What?”
“You’re being even saltier than usual, and it’s been a perfectly pleasant day, so something must have happened. Let me guess, you ran into the vet again?”
“No,” Jordan muttered. There was no getting anything past him. She thought of brushing it off, but the truth was that something had been nagging at her since the hospital and if Hermes wasn’t going away, there was no point in keeping it bottled up. “I know taking Susan’s life wasn’t just about saving Darren. I know it was a ritual.”
"I see the dead broad was chatty," Hermes said casually. "Would it have mattered if I’d told you at the time?”
She hesitated. "No, but it would have been nice to know. She said there are four more.”
“That’s right. Five rituals, and five lovers. The powers that be are big on mathematical symmetry.”
“Five lovers?” she echoed, turning to face him since the clothes were now the last thing on her mind. “What are you talking about?”
“I told you, you’re going to become the Whore of Babylon. How’d you think you were going to earn the name?”
“I’m a virgin!” She never thought that would be something she yelled aloud to a practical stranger, but alas, Hermes had a way of eliciting all sorts of uncharacteristic reactions. The angrier she was at him, the easier it was not to think about the fact that he looked like a walking advertisement for sin.
“That’s part of the appeal. I mean, do you have any idea how hard those are to come by these days?” he scoffed. “You’re practically an apocalyptic lottery ticket.”
“What does any of this have to do with the apocalypse?”
“For a former preacher’s kid, you should brush up on your Bible lit. The Whore of Babylon is the harbinger of the apocalypse,” he said in a condescending tone. “That makes her an incredibly powerful weapon. Whoever starts the apocalypse has the advantage, don’t you think?”
Jordan’s stomach filled with dread. She knew that Hermes’ motivations were far from pure, but she hadn’t counted on him using her to bring about the literal end of the world. She didn’t have that much power to exploit. “You’re a demon. Shouldn’t you want the world to continue so you can keep, you know, tempting people?”
He laughed. “Now you’re catching on. Lucy and the Archangel Michael are both rushing toward the finish line, but me? I’m a free agent, and I’d like to keep this hunk of sin and degradation turning for as long as possible. That and I certainly wouldn’t mind a better parking space in Hell,” he mused.
“So…you’re trying to save the world?” Jordan asked doubtfully. Hermes didn’t seem like the type who’d save a single life if it didn’t serve him.
He grimaced distastefully. “You make it sound so altruistic. All I’m trying to do is ensure that I can maintain the lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to over the last few thousand years. You little mortals are an endless source of entertainment, and if I save a few billion of you in the process, so be it.”
Jordan arched an eyebrow. He was either putting on a good show or he really was as hedonistic as he liked to pretend. Either way, it seemed he wasn’t the worst being she could have fallen prey to in her time of need. “So by contracting me, you’re just making sure that I don’t fall into the hands of Michael or…Lucifer?” Even though she’d been conditioned to fear the devil all her life, saying his
name out loud felt ridiculous.
“More or less. Of course, the job’s not done yet. Now you’re on Heaven’s radar, which means Lucifer’s sure to find out about you soon enough.”
“I don’t understand… why didn’t they know about me before?”
“Like I said,” he continued in an impatient tone, “You’re destined to become the Whore of Babylon. No less than fifty others have been in your shoes. Until certain choices are made that set your destiny into motion—such as selling your soul—it’s all just potential. Most potentials live and die without ever being recognized because they never made a choice that would qualify them for the position.”
“You make it sound like an office job…”
“It is in a sense. So is the Antichrist.” He shrugged. “That title’s a bit more mutable than Whore, since there can only be one before the end of the world, but it’s the same premise. Certain humans have the potential to become the Whore, but what separates them from you is…me.”
“If you want to prevent the apocalypse and contracting with you is what put me on Heaven’s radar, then why not just let me continue living my life in ignorance? Why set all of this up?” she demanded, gesturing around the room.
“Because the other side got to you first. In case you haven’t noticed, your life is kind of a clusterfuck,” Hermes said flatly. “Your father was working with an angel who knew what you had the potential to become. You escaped, but he would have found you eventually.”
Jordan’s throat tightened at the mention of the golden-haired angel who haunted her dreams. “If he knows about me, then they already know where to find me.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that. The good news is, Cold Creek is protected.”
“By what?”
“By me. I’ve been searching for you a good long time, so I’ve had plenty of time to set the stage. The entire town is warded, so as long as you don’t leave, Heaven and Hell can’t touch you.”
“Warded?” Jordan frowned. “You were never going to let me leave, were you?”
“Of course not. Not after it took this long to hunt you down. And can you blame me? Your little trip into Northampton didn’t go so well, did it?”
Jordan gulped. “You were there. You were the man in the sweatshirt at the movie theater.”
“Of course. Can’t say I approve of your taste in film, but your little freakout in the cemetery made up for it.”
“Back to the angel,” Jordan muttered. Thinking too much about what Hermes had and hadn’t seen was giving her a headache. “If he’s known me from birth, why hasn’t he reported me to Michael and the others?”
“Because he doesn’t play for their team. Not anymore.”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “You mean my father is working with Lucifer?”
“Talk about having friends in low places, huh?” He smirked. “Be glad I got to you first.”
For the first time, she actually was. Jordan turned to walk into the kitchen for a drink. When she turned around, Hermes was already there with a glass and a bottle of champagne she hadn’t bought in his hand. “I don’t blame you for being overwhelmed. It’s all a bit much to take in, but I did try to ease you into it.”
“You lied to me and cornered me into selling my soul to save the man I love,” she muttered, taking the glass from him.
“I didn’t lie. I withheld certain elements of the truth you weren’t ready to accept.”
“I’m still not,” she admitted. “Especially not the five lovers part.”
“Consorts, or a different kind of familiar, if you prefer. Just know that with each ritual you complete, consummated with each lover, you'll be one step closer to awakening to your full potential. Once you can rightly call yourself the Whore of Babylon, raising the dead is going to be a cake walk.”
Jordan’s heart stopped in response to his words. “Wait… If killing Susan was one of your rituals, does that mean Darren is part of this?”
“I thought so, but sadly, no,” he said in a surprisingly sympathetic tone. “I was wrong and that’s not something I say lightly.”
Jordan’s heart sank, but she reminded herself that this apocalypse business was the last thing Darren would want any part in. Especially if it involved sharing her with five other men. “So if Darren’s not on the list, who is?”
“Can’t say for certain. I only know that when the time is right, they’ll show up here and you’ll recognize them by the light of the full moon. Destiny and all that. But I have an inkling that you might start with that dashing blond.”
“Chase?” she asked doubtfully.
"If you weren't interested in him, you wouldn't have known who I was talking about."
Jordan couldn't argue with that. “So in addition to being my one-man matchmaking service and magic tutor, you’re going to be masquerading as my cat indefinitely?”
"It's more convenient than letting your judgmental landlady think I'm your live-in boyfriend, don't you think?" A wicked grin spread across his face and he stepped forward, caressing Jordan’s fingers on the champagne glass. “Of course, if you'd prefer masquerading as lovers..."
This time, her heart started beating faster for a different reason. “I thought you were gay.”
"I'm grey, darling," he purred, his lips grazing her neck. She shivered and she could feel the delight pouring off of him. "Human labels don't mean much to me one way or another.”
Jordan turned to look up at him, and those green eyes were smoldering with fire that usually burned her up in a different way. “Don’t tell me you’re one of my lovers.”
“No spoilers,” he said, resting a slender finger against her lips. Everything about his touch was cool and soothing, except the heat she could feel between them… “But a little practice wouldn’t hurt.”
Jordan gasped as the demon’s lips found hers again, and this time, she had no contractual excuse for returning the kiss. The coolness of his touch soothed her aching heart in ways she didn’t fully understand about it, and there was something so strangely familiar in that kiss…
Maybe that’s where the name came from, after all. On some level, she felt like she knew him, even if her mind didn’t. It was a sensation that went beyond skin deep, and with every brush of his skin against hers, the magic hummed between them until she could scarcely tell where hers ended and his began.
He had her up on the counter so fast her head spun, his lean body pressed between her legs. Somehow, their kiss remained unbroken. His cool hands snaked up her thighs and his fingers slipped beneath her panties, grazing what was already shamelessly slick for his touch. When his fingers slipped into her, her lips unleashed a moan that he swallowed whole as he kissed her even harder.
Guilt throbbed with every beat of her heart. She was heartbroken and had just learned that she was destined to bring about the end of the world. Lust should have been the very last thing on her mind, especially when it was shared with the man she had more reason to hate than any other, but…
The sound of gravel crunching on the driveway through the window made Jordan jolt and Hermes’ green eyes flashed in irritation as he broke the kiss and looked over at the window. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath as Jordan jumped down from the counter and smoothed out her rumpled skirt. “It’s probably just Max with the mail,” she said, her pulse still rushing in her ears as she went over to the balcony. “Stay here.”
To her relief, Hermes actually listened for once. Jordan peered out through the balcony and her heart fluttered at the sight of the dark truck pulling up in the driveway.
"Darren?" she called once he got out of the truck, running her fingers through her hair as she walked down the fire escape to meet him. "What brings you here?"
Darren didn't answer, but he waited for her by the house. When she came to a stop in front of him, he looked pointedly at her car and muttered, “Your plates are expired.”
“Thanks, but something tells me you didn’t come all the way here just to tell me that
.”
After the chaos of the Equinox Festival, Darren had finally given in to Cindy's constant pressuring to run for the town council. Jordan had seen more of him on the campaign signs than she had in person. Of course, he had won the election by a landslide, including Jordan's vote.
"No, but you should still take care of it. I've been meaning to talk to you for a while, actually."
"You have?" she asked hopefully. It was wrong to hope. The less he had to do with her, the better.
"I hear that stray cat stuck around.”
Her heart sank. So he was just there to remind her to get her familiar his yearly vaccinations. "Yeah. Mrs. Herrin said he could stay, so I guess he’s not really a stray anymore.”
Darren grunted, which told her he had resumed the grudge he’d finally gotten over about Hermes. If only he knew…
“I’ve also heard you're seeing patients," he said in a tone that made it clear her response would be closely scrutinized.
"I'm sorry?" she asked innocently.
His eyebrows furrowed. "I know what you're doing, Jordan. It's all over town. If you’re going to go around impersonating a doctor, at least have the decency to be honest about it.”
Jordan winced at the formal address. It was one thing for Darren to hate her, but entirely another to pretend like they were strangers. “It's hardly a matter of being dishonest, doctor, when you wouldn't believe the truth if a giant hand came down from the sky and wrote it in the dirt.
He frowned. "What you're doing may not be illegal--the sheriff and I are still in disagreement on that--but that doesn't make it right. I'm warning you, if you don't stop the racketeering, I'll have you run out of town one way or another."
"It can hardly be racketeering if I haven't taken anyone's money," she said, folding her arms. It was hard to pretend to be angry at him when she was just grateful to be in his presence. At least he was talking to her, even if it was only because he thought she was a con artist.
"You may not be making money off of this, but I don't believe for a second that you're not getting something out of it," he said sternly. "Something other than the joy of helping people."