by G. A. Rael
Hermes’ eyes were beginning to look like cracked jade with crimson veins running through the irises and the whites. His once beatific features were set in an uncharacteristic snarl and his breathing was as ragged as hers had become. His nails dug into her flesh slightly, but it wasn't the pain that alarmed her, or even the fact that his nails seemed longer and more pointed than she remembered. It was the fact that his incisors had lengthened that made her realize fully that he was turning into something else entirely. Or maybe he was just taking off the mask he wore so well.
“Hermes,” she whispered carefully, wary of setting off whatever demonic instincts their encounter had triggered. "You're hurting me."
The words took instant effect. Immediately, the demon released his grip on her and he was on the other side of the apartment before she could process him moving at all. "Are you alright?" he asked in a ragged voice she didn't recognize.
"Yeah," she said, sitting up to fix her disheveled clothing, still reeling from the combination of suspended arousal and fear. "What happened? Your eyes, they...changed."
"It's nothing," he said, already sounding more like himself as he turned around. "I just made a mistake."
His words stung more than the pain of his nails digging into her flesh ever had. He turned to face her with wide, solid green eyes that were his own once again and he seemed to understand how she’d taken those words. "That's not what I meant, Jordan."
"Don't," she said, getting to her feet. She bent down and began picking up the mess of his construction project for a distraction. "Maybe everyone else in this town pities me now, but I don't have to take that from you. Not until my time’s up and you collect my soul, at least.”
"Stop being a martyr," he demanded, standing in front of her suddenly. He took her by the shoulders, making her drop the small pile of discarded wood in her hands. "You know where martyrdom gets witches?"
Jordan chewed the inside of her lip, trying to call on her irritation so she wouldn’t have to feel the sting of rejection yet again. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”
"The stake," he said pointedly. "Don't think we're beyond that just because New England has traded puritanism for the Patriots."
"Stop it. You don't get to switch from playing mind games to teacher mode in two seconds flat. I'm going to get whiplash."
Hermes sighed, letting his hands fall away. "I wasn't playing games, not this time. I had every intention of seducing you tonight."
Jordan blinked at his candor. "Why?"
He shrugged. "I figured losing your virginity to me was better than an anonymous stranger at a club. Believe it or not, I care about you."
"I believe you," she admitted. "I don't believe for a second that you wouldn't hurt me if it suited your purposes, but I think you really do care in your own odd way. Probably not in the same self-destructive Stockholm Syndrome-y way I've come to care about you."
He gave her a small smile. "If that's true, then you're more damaged than I've given you credit for. I mean, I've heard of daddy issues, but you've got mommy issues, brother issues, third cousin twice removed issues --"
"Okay, I get it," Jordan snapped. "Just tell me what happened that made you start acting like you wanted to eat me in a non fun way so we can make sure it never happens again."
He sighed, pulling his long white hair back only to let it fall freely around his shoulders. Why did even his nervous habits have to be so appealing? "It's complicated."
"I'm a Pentecostal-turned-pagan who's in love with a guy I brought back to life with the help of a sort-of gay demon who happens to be my roommate," she said, folding her arms. "My life is nothing if not complicated."
"I'm pansexual, get a dictionary,” he said with a scowl. "And you're not pagan, you're just a witch. I'm the only god in your pantheon, so get that straight.”
"Stop deflecting and answer the question.”
Hermes flopped on the edge of the bed with a dramatic sigh and Jordan covered her mouth so he couldn't see the smile tugging at her lips. For all she knew, the nightmare creature she had caught a glimpse of was the real Hermes and everything else was just a mask, but she was more than relieved to have her familiar back for the moment.
"Fine. Do you know why demons take the souls of witches when they die?"
"No," she said warily. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, either. Her mortal life was full of enough unexpected surprises to contend with.
"We eat you," he replied matter-of-factly, confirming her worst fear. Jordan was silent, if only because she couldn't remember any words in the English language. All the color drained from her face and he gave her an apologetic look before continuing, "Your souls, at least. That’s why most witches don’t age much during their mortal lifetime. No one likes a tough steak."
Jordan shuddered.
"Sorry, I forget you're a vegetarian."
"That's not why I'm creeped out, Hermes! You could have told me you planned to eat me before I put myself on the menu."
"Would it have changed your decision to sign the contract?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
She hesitated. "No, but --"
"Then be glad I didn't tell you," he interrupted. "In any case, I'm not going to eat you. I have bigger plans.”
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"You don't, but you're at my mercy either way."
He had a point. "What are you going to do with my soul, then?"
"Classified."
She frowned. "Why did you freak out earlier?"
"Just because I'm not going to eat you doesn't mean I don't want to," he said, looking her up and down appreciatively. The way his tongue swept across his lips made her shiver, but it was also arousing in an utterly confusing way. "I guess it takes more willpower than I remembered. Then again, my other witches weren't quite as...juicy."
Jordan's gave him a halfhearted swat on the arm. "Great. I can't give my virginity away to a human man, but I'm chuck roast to demons.”
"More like filet mignon," Hermes purred. "It's a compliment, and for the record, I had every intention of taking your virginity. The line between the different types of hunger just gets a little blurry when I'm aroused, apparently."
"Don't you have sex with humans all the time?"
"Not as much as you'd think, but it's not the same as being around a witch. Your meat is marinated in magic. Right now you're like veal, young and tender, but eventually you'll have so much magic running through your veins that --"
"Okay, enough," Jordan cried, covering her ears. "Enough meat metaphors, I think you just made me upgrade to vegan."
"They're hardly metaphors."
“Hermes!”
"Sorry," he said in a mocking little tone that made it clear he wasn't.
"If you want to make it better, just never bring it up again," she pleaded, grabbing her robe off the hook on the door.
"Fair enough. Where are you going?"
"To take a cold shower," she said flatly, gesturing to the piles of wood and supplies on the floor. "When I get out, all this had better be cleaned up."
"You're the boss," he said, a wry grin spreading across his lips, "for now."
Twenty-Nine
Jordan sat on the porch swing, trying not to think about the white cat who would probably be watching her from the upstairs window if she dared to look up. It had been a week since his confession and she wasn't sure whether she was more embarrassed that she had almost done the deed with her own familiar or horrified because the only reason the seduction hadn't worked was the fact that his desire to eat her far exceeded any other.
Avoiding Hermes had proved more difficult than avoiding Darren, considering the fact that they shared a one-bedroom apartment, but Jordan was giving it a valiant effort all the same. She had hoped her date with Chase would be a distraction and another excuse to get out of the house, but he was late. It wasn't like him to be anything other than punctual, at least as far as she could tell. Maybe he had overheard a rumor th
at convinced him she wasn't worth dating and he wasn't coming at all.
Part of her would be relieved, if only on his behalf, but the other part would be disappointed. As the days wore on, Darren's new relationship wasn’t getting any easier to live with and Jordan wasn’t sure she was emotionally cut out for the new casual dynamic of her fling with her familiar.
The Condom Incident had long since become old news, but Allison certainly hadn't. She went everywhere with Darren now and rumor had it she was moving in with him. At their last coffee date, Tina had gone on and on about how much of a sacrifice moving into Darren's bachelor pad must have been for someone as posh as Allison and how sweet it was that they were high school sweethearts reunited at last. Surely they were soulmates after all! When Cindy's glares had finally escalated into under-the-table kicks to remind Tina that Jordan and Darren had dated not so long ago, Tina had quickly clammed up, but the damage had already been done.
Not that Jordan blamed her. When Jordan and Darren had dated, there had been very little in the way of the public handholding, kissing or town function attendance that characterized his relationship with Allison. It was no surprise to Jordan that even her own friends seemed to have forgotten about their relationship. Darren certainly had.
She knew it was her fault, considering that she was the one who had chosen to scrub all of his positive memories and feelings for, but Hermes' magic couldn't explain the stark differences between their former relationship and the one Darren shared with Allison. With not one but three rejections under her belt, Jordan couldn't help but assume that her belt size had something to do with it. It had taken so long for her to be convinced that Darren liked her curves, or at least didn't mind them. Seeing how openly affectionate he was with Allison left Jordan to wonder if he had been embarrassed to be seen with a woman who wasn't lean and sculpted.
Or maybe it was her lack of sophistication. Allison had multiple degrees and had taken a break from a glamorous career in the city just to be with Darren. Surely she was capable of fulfilling intellectual needs that a homeschooled preacher's daughter who had spent the better part of her formative years in an attic just couldn't meet. She still wasn't sure how much of her past Hermes had left behind in Darren's memory, but surely he was relieved to be free of his bumpkin ex.
Jordan hated herself all the more for wallowing. It had taken years to scrape together what little self-esteem her upbringing had left her and she’d worked too hard to become her own woman to let one man tear all that down. Even if he was the first man she’d ever truly loved…
Chase’s dark Mercedes peeled into the lot, momentarily distracting Jordan from her self-loathing. He leaped out of the car, looking more frazzled than she had ever seen him. Jordan stood from the swing and waited for him to notice her there.
"I'm so sorry," he began, out of breath. Had he been running? "I ran into Mercy on the way here. She was struggling with her packages so I helped her into the post office and you know how she can talk. I got away as soon as I could."
Jordan did know. Everyone in town knew how Mercy was. Jordan was fairly certain Mrs. Herrin only put up with the talkative woman because she was as quick to part with gossip as she was to come by it.
"It's fine," she assured him. "I was just enjoying the weather."
"It is lovely out for this time of year," he agreed, looking up at the pale orange sunset. He offered a hand to help her off the porch and she took it.
"Thanks."
"If you're willing to give me another chance, I made reservations at Raymond's," he said, referring to one of the only upscale restaurants in town. Technically, it was just on the outskirts of town nestled in the forest, but Cold Creek's residents claimed it as their own.
"No second chance needed," she assured him as he got the door and helped her into his car. The fact that he had gotten derailed by Mercy rather than being rude and walking away from the older woman like most people in town did was admittedly a point in his favor.
Chase settled into the car and took off down the road. "You're very forgiving."
"I could say the same about you."
He gave her a confused look. "How so?"
Jordan tugged at the hem of her skirt. She’d gone shopping and it was one of the few items she’d kept from Hermes’ makeover. There was a middle ground between conservative sweater sets and the bondage gear he would have had her in if his tastes were any indication. She felt more comfortable in the fitted leather jacket and blouse anyway, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be underdressed for the restaurant.
“So far, every time we’ve met I’ve been in some form of emotional distress,” she admitted. It occurred to her only then that each of those times had involved Darren in one way or another. “I probably seem like a real flake.”
“Not in the least. Darren has that effect on people,” he mused, wincing. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t badmouth your ex. It’s in poor taste.”
The truth was, Jordan wouldn’t have minded if he was interested in badmouthing Allison a little, but she knew she was just being vindictive. “Why do you guys hate each other so much, anyway?”
Chase glanced over at her. “You might say we were old rivals.”
“What, you both went for quarterback?” she teased.
He laughed. “No, nothing like that. We just dated the same girl.”
“Oh,” Jordan said, not quite expecting him to come out and admit that. Her heart sank as she realized there was one prospect in particular that troubled her. “Allison?”
“No,” he scoffed. “God, no. Allison and I were friends in high school, but the woman’s as vapid as they come. I only spent time with her because my parents wanted the connection to hers.”
Jordan tried to hide her petty delight at that revelation. “Oh. Well, whoever it was must have been special for you to both still hold a grudge over her.”
Chase’s silence filled Jordan with regret as she realized there was one other person he could be talking about. “Oh. Shit. It was Jessica?”
“They’d broken up long before she and I started dating, but Darren never quite got over her,” he said somberly, keeping his eyes on the road. “Under the circumstances, I suppose I can understand him hating the man he’s convinced murdered his high school sweetheart.”
Jordan took a second to chew on her reply. That was a lot to swallow, but at least she wasn’t the only one with baggage. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked if I had any idea.”
Chase pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road and the secluded area gave Jordan pause for the first time. She turned to face him, trying to read the pensive look on his handsome features. Once again, her instincts proved seriously broken because her first one was the urge to comfort him. It was obviously a topic that brought him considerable distress, but that didn’t mean he was innocent. If Cold Creek was as “special” as Hermes said it was, who knew what dark secrets its residents were holding?
“Chase, what’s wrong?” she asked warily, refusing to give in to the same hysteria everyone else had caved to without so much as a shred of evidence.
“I thought I could do this without feeling guilty, but I like you too much,” he muttered.
Jordan blinked. For a guy whose quality of life depended on not sounding like a serial killer, he had some work to do. “Okay…”
“If we’re seen together, people are going to talk,” he said, finally turning to face her. The look of doubt in his eyes as he white knuckled the wheel erased the trepidations that weren’t half of what they probably should have been. “I know that you’ve dealt with your share of scrutiny since coming here, but you have no idea what people in this town can be like. It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Hey,” Jordan said, touching his arm. The contact seemed to surprise him, but not as much as the unmistakable hum of energy through his skin startled Jordan. If it hadn’t been for all of Hermes’ training and the physical intimacy that stirred similar sensations, she might not
have recognized it. Chase’s energy had a different flavor. Where Hermes’ was a deep freeze, cooling and refreshing everything it touched, Chase’s was warm and bright like the light of the sun. It soaked into her, melting away the pain that seemed so close to consuming her most days.
For a moment, she lingered in awe of it. She wondered if he knew, but the confusion on her face told her he didn’t understand. If he felt the intense familiarity between them, he lacked the magical understanding to place it in its proper context. A look up at the sky reminded her that it was, in fact, the full moon. That explained why she hadn’t felt the same sensation before.
Chase was one of her lovers, just like Hermes thought. And he didn’t seem to have a damn clue.
"Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly.
“No,” Jordan said, collecting herself. This was their first date and she wasn’t prepared emotionally or practically to educate him on what the connection between them truly meant. She wasn’t even sure she knew. “It’s nothing. And I don’t care what people think. Besides, it’s just one date.”
He smiled and the relief that touched his eyes left no doubt in her mind that he wasn’t the monster everyone thought he was. Not by a long shot.
If anything, he was the one in danger and Jordan knew she’d need the rest of the night to figure out how to keep him safe.
“If you’re sure,” he said, finally starting back onto the road. They pulled into the crowded parking lot of the small Italian restaurant just outside of town. The trees in the woods surrounding the restaurant were all lit up, but they were no competition for the freshly hung moon in the sky.
Jordan took Chase’s hand as he helped her out of the car. She cast what she hoped was a subtle glance around the lot and breathed a sigh of relief once she saw that Darren's truck was nowhere to be found. The last thing the night needed was another complication.
Thirty
"Table for two under Wilde,” Chase said to the maître d'.
"Right this way," said the man, grabbing two menus from the podium. He led them back to what appeared to be the only two empty tables in the restaurant. They were seated by the window and Chase pulled Jordan's chair out before taking his own.