by G. A. Rael
“There are things you don’t remember because you were so young,” he said carefully. “Things I’ve been keeping from you until the time was right.”
“What are you saying?” she demanded. “Whatever it is, I have a right to know.” She didn’t like the implication that Hermes knew anything about her past that she didn’t. Had he been watching her? If so, that raised all sorts of troubling questions. Namely why he hadn’t intervened sooner.
“You’re the human equivalent of a nuclear bomb, Jordan. Your power was out of control. It had to be repressed.” Before she could ask the question on her mind, he added, “Before you interrupt me, I don’t know because I was there. I see things you don’t and when we contracted, I saw inside your mind.”
“You what?” she cried.
“Simmer, Sabrina. It’s all in the fine print, and it’s not my fault you didn’t read.”
“You were pressuring me and Darren was dead,” she said through clenched teeth.
He waved his hand. “Splitting hairs. Do you want answers or not?”
Jordan tightened her jaw and sank back in her chair, forcing herself to let him speak.
“I know memories that have been manipulated when I see them, and your mind is a mess. After the fire, someone repressed your powers.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Possibly so you couldn’t do any more damage until you were old enough to control them.
“Or…?”
“Or to keep you off Heaven’s radar until he was able to control you himself.”
“You think it was him, don’t you? Lucifer…” Her throat tightened as she said the name.
“Only an archangel is powerful enough to suppress that kind of power.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“You weren’t ready.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” he replied, folding his arms. “Until I came along, you were a closet case with zero self-awareness. Excuse me for wanting to ease you into this. It’s not like it’s the end of the world if we fail or anything. Oh, wait…”
“Don’t,” Jordan snapped. “You don’t get to bail on me when I need you and start lecturing me about responsibility. I’m trying to bring my family back. All you care about is making sure your favorite vacation destination doesn’t get destroyed.”
“Your complaints have been duly noted,” he said in a condescending tone. “I’ll keep a closer eye on you in the future. Truth be told, I didn't think your power would progress this quickly."
“Well, it did. In front of Chase, no less,” she muttered.
“How did he take it?”
“Unnervingly well. I still haven’t told him he’s my consort.”
“Probably for the best. Now that the seal of flame has been broken, you have some time to ease him into things.”
"Seal?”
“When Lucifer suppressed your power, he did it with five seals. The Whore’s energy is composed of all five elements: Fire, water, earth, air and spirit. It’s too much to contain with one seal, so each one has to be broken to unlock a different aspect. Chase was the first.”
“Are you saying Lucifer chose my consorts?”
“No. Let me think of a way to put this in terms a human will understand,” he said, pressing his fingers together thoughtfully. “A seal is just a type of magic. You want to bind energy, you have to do it by summoning stronger energy from somewhere else. The universe always finds a balance. It’s already public knowledge in Heaven and Hell that the Whore will have five consorts, so the energy he summoned naturally came from them. When the time is right, your connection to each of them will break that consort’s respective seal. Following me so far?”
“More than I want to,” she sighed.
“Relax. The seals are just containing your power. It’s always been there, now it’s simply available to you. And you didn’t do a half-bad job handling yourself, from the sound of things.”
“Chase helped,” she admitted. “I kind of panicked.”
“He’s your consort. He was bound to you before you were born, so helping you control your power comes naturally.”
“Are you saying he exists for me?” Jordan asked, uncomfortable with the thought for a myriad of reasons.
“I’m saying he’s the personification of the seal and vice versa. His energy and yours are intertwined, so you don’t need to angst about him rejecting you,” he sneered. “And for the record, I don’t need to read your mind to know that. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”
“Have I ever told you what a comfort you are?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Comfort?” Hermes laughed. “I can protect you and guide you through unlocking your power, but if it’s comfort you’re after, you’d be better off finding a guardian angel.”
Now that was a joke, thought Jordan. The only angel who had ever taken an interest in her was more interested in using her than protecting her.
“I should tell him soon,” she murmured. “He needs to know what he’s getting into.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Friday night.”
“I wouldn’t sweat the revelation just yet. There are four seals to unlock before we get down to the fun stuff, and you, my darling, are still in way over your head.”
“You want me not to tell him I’m destined to fuck four other men?”
“Did you say you were exclusive?”
“Well, no, but…”
“So just relax and enjoy the casual stage. It’s the only part of a relationship some people stick around for, and for good reason,” he said wryly, draping his arm over the back of his chair. “Besides, you should let the fire settle in before you start trying to crack open another seal.”
“And how do I do that?”
“Sex helps,” he shrugged. “If it hadn’t been for us fooling around, you probably would’ve set the whole forest ablaze.”
Jordan’s heart sank. “Is that why? Screwing me is just about maintenance?”
“Don’t be dramatic. You’re not a normal witch, you’re the Whore of Babylon, and I’m your familiar. Sex is obviously going to factor into the equation.”
His words stung, but not nearly as much as the ones Jordan’s mind was coming up with. How could she have been stupid enough to think Hermes was interested in anything other than her power, even for a moment? More importantly, why did it matter?
She hated him. The sooner she remembered that, the better.
“I’m going out,” she muttered, grabbing her jacket.
“Where?”
Jordan shot him a filthy look. “You disappeared for four days without saying a word. I don’t have to start giving an account of myself to you.”
“I’m your familiar.”
“Exactly,” she said, slamming the door behind her. The title obviously didn’t mean to him what it had once meant to her. At least now they were both on the same page.
Thirty-Three
Normally, Cindy and Tina's constant bickering gave Jordan such a headache that she tried to avoid going out with them both at the same time, but it was a welcome distraction that warm spring afternoon. Tina insisted the movie they had just seen must have been filmed in New Zealand while Cindy was adamant that those were none other than the rolling hills of northwestern Connecticut in the cutaway scenes.
"Jordan, you're well-traveled. Will you please settle this matter and tell my ridiculous sister how wrong she is?" Cindy asked, glancing back over her shoulder.
Jordan looked up absently as they passed through the town square. The sign on the animal clinic's door had been flipped to Closed, which probably meant Darren was running around town with Allison, whose wedding plans seemed to have taken over the entire town. "Hm?"
Cindy and Tina exchanged a knowing glance.
"I told you she wasn't over him," Cindy muttered.
"Oh, please," Tina scoffed. “Chase has that scruffy curmudgeon beat three ways to Sunday.
What's there to get over when her new boyfriend has a sports car, a five-bedroom home and a career in New York?"
"I wasn't looking for Darren," Jordan said once she realized that was what they were going on about. To be fair, she had cast more than a few glances at the familiar blue building since they’d sat down, but in this particular instance, Darren wasn't the cause for her curiosity.
There had been a woman standing on the sidewalk in front of the clinic, pacing back and forth for the past ten minutes. She was statuesque and elegant, dressed in a light yellow frock that looked more like it belonged in a Jackie O museum than in the window of any of the clothing shops in town. Every now and then, her wide-brimmed hat would turn up toward the apartment like she was waiting for someone to appear in the window. Her reddish-brown hair was coiffed into a neat bob that hung just above her shoulders and seemed unaffected by the summer breeze that had long since made Jordan give up on managing her own wavy tresses.
"Of course you weren't, dear," Cindy said without even trying to conceal her pity.
"No, really," said Jordan, nodding across the street. "See that woman? She's been standing there watching the building since we were at the cafe."
Tina shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted towards the clinic. "What woman? Nellie Fitzroy?"
"No, not her," Jordan said, pointing Tina away from the plump groomer who was giving her poodle a handful of bottled water as she sat on a nearby bench. "The other woman, the one in the yellow dress."
Cindy came over to join them and frowned. “I really don't see anyone besides Nellie, dear."
The woman was staring at them now. Even from a distance, Jordan could see the crucifix hanging around her neck. She jolted when the other woman made eye contact.
When Jordan finally looked away, she realized both Cindy and Tina were giving her some worried looks of their own.
"Maybe we've been out in the sun for too long," said Tina. "Heat stroke happens quickly, you know."
"Come on, dear, we'll go grab a bottle of water at Kipman's," Cindy said in a motherly tone, placing an arm around Jordan's shoulder. Jordan glanced back toward the clinic as her friends led her towards the grocer's, frowning at the suddenly empty space on the sidewalk the woman in the yellow dress had occupied for so long. She looked all around the square, but the woman was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe Jordan really had been out in the sun for too long.
Tina found a bench in the square and Cindy left to return a moment later with three bottles of water.
"Thanks," said Jordan, taking a sip. She was thirstier than she thought, but the hydration did nothing to shake the crisp memory of the woman outside Darren's building or the strange look on her face. She had seemed so worried, but surely she would have asked for help if it was an emergency.
"Feeling any better?" asked Tina.
"I'm fine, really."
The librarian pressed a hand to Jordan's forehead. "You're warm."
Jordan sighed. "So are you, Tina. We were sitting outside for an hour."
Tina quickly pressed her hand to her own forehead and gave Cindy a panicked look. "Do you think I've got it, too?"
Cindy rolled her eyes. "When you start seeing apparitions, then I'll worry."
"You both fuss over me too much," said Jordan. Not that she was complaining. She didn't know why Tina and Cindy had taken her under their wings, but she was grateful. It was impossible to be sad around them, even if the ache in her heart that had been there ever since the festival never quite disappeared.
Cindy opened her mouth to reply when something caught her eye across the square. "Yoohoo, Dr. St. Clair!" she called pleasantly, turning to roll her eyes at Tina and Jordan. "He must have slipped his leash. This is the first time I've seen him walking around on his own since the engagement."
"Don't call him over," Jordan pleaded.
"He was already on his way, dear. Better to make it look like it was your idea," Cindy advised, giving a friendly wave as Darren drew closer.
Jordan decided she was right and straightened her posture, summoning the courage it would take to look him in the eye when he came close enough. It was the first time she had officially encountered Darren after their unexpected reunion at the restaurant and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking Allison had gotten to her. She was sure the woman had already regaled him with all the details of her meltdown, but there was little she could do to change that.
When the veterinarian came close enough, Jordan could see his brow furrowed in that worried expression she knew so well. "Jordan, are you alright?" he asked. He didn't address or even seem to notice the others.
"She has heat stroke," Tina said matter-of-factly.
"Don't be so dramatic, Tina," Cindy scolded. "Jordan just got a bit overheated so we're taking a little break." She fanned herself with the takeout menu she had snatched from the nearby diner.
"Are you sure?" asked Darren, stopping in front of the bench where Jordan was sitting. He knelt down in front of her. "You do look a little flushed. Are you feeling weak? Lightheaded?"
When he reached to touch her forehead, Jordan swatted his hand away. "I'm fine," she said tersely, standing. Unfortunately, her clumsiness betrayed her and she nearly staggered into him, but she managed to catch herself. Darren reached out to steady her and her head was spinning too much to stop him. His hand was so cold to the touch that she was beginning to entertain the idea that she really did have heatstroke.
"You don't look fine," he replied.
"I'm not one of your patients," she said, pulling out of his grasp. "If I want a medical assessment, I'll ask a real doctor."
The comment clearly hit its mark when Tina and Cindy fell silent. Jordan regretted it immediately, even if he deserved that and more.
"Ladies, could I have a moment alone with Jordan?" he asked, strangely calm. Jordan could only wonder at the man who was prone to screaming at her when she had done nothing wrong and yet capable of the utmost maturity and composure when she actually deserved his ire.
Tina and Cindy exchanged an awkward glance before turning back to Jordan. Sometimes they seemed more like twins than just sisters.
"Will you be alright?" asked Cindy.
"I'm fine," Jordan said, already regretting her outburst. "I'll call you later."
"Do," they said in unison. Tina glanced back at them and whispered something to her sister as they took off.
Jordan turned back to Darren, struggling to formulate an apology before things could get any worse. Before she had the chance, he took her by the wrist and started dragging her toward his clinic.
She planted her heels on the pavement, forcing him to stop. “Let go of me, asshole.”
Darren stopped to face her. “Normally, I wouldn't take a diagnosis from Tina too seriously, but I don't think she's far off this time," he said, eying her worriedly. "You don't look okay, and you're certainly not acting like yourself."
Jordan sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I said that. It was a cheap shot, but I'm fine. I'm just in a bad mood."
“Yeah, since you saw me. I know you’ve been avoiding me since the restaurant, and I want to know why.”
Jordan glanced over her shoulder and realized Chase’s office was close enough for him to get the wrong idea if he happened to look out the window. “Fine,” she muttered, following him into his clinic. It was cooler and to her relief, it was empty. “Five minutes.”
The bell over the door rang as Darren followed her in, his arms folded. “What's going on? I know things have been rough between us since the breakup, but I thought we made progress the other night."
"So did I," Jordan said bitterly. So much for being a cool, confident woman the next time she saw him. Darren had always had a way of stripping away any veneer of composure she put up, and it seemed that the ability had outlasted their intimacy.
“So?” he demanded. “What happened that I don’t know about?”
Jordan frowned, questioning her assumption that Allison had s
pent the entire car ride home gloating. Maybe her lips were tighter than Darren's. Jordan thought briefly of confronting him about it, but decided that even in the best case scenario, it would just unearth the feelings of humiliation and betrayal for no reason. The worst case scenario was that it would look like she was just trying to start a fight between him and Allison. He already saw her as pathetic and crazy. She didn't see any point in adding jealous and petty to the list.
"Nothing. I just finally came to my senses, that's all."
"Would you mind translating that into English for me?" he asked dryly. "In case you didn't notice while we were dating, I'm not complex enough for emotional code words and cryptic comments."
"We can't be friends, Darren. That's the long and short of it."
"Why not?"
"For plenty of reasons, not the least of all because I'm never going to be able to see you as just a friend," she admitted, deciding that was the answer that would put him in the least danger, even if it was the most embarrassing for her. "No matter how much I want to."
Her words seemed to have stunned him momentarily, so she continued, "Then there's the fact that you're engaged and I can tell I'm not your fiancée's favorite person."
"Why?" He frowned. "Did she say something to you?"
Jordan searched his face for any sign of deceit but found none. She really didn't tell him.
"No, but it's obvious and I don't blame her. I was in her shoes not too long ago and I can't say I'd have been crazy about you striking up a friendship with her, either."
"Like I told you last week, Allison doesn't get to decide who my friends are," he said firmly. "Besides, I already explained what happened between us and she was fine with it."
"Oh, I'm sure you did."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Jordan said, walking past him. “Just worry more about your fiancée and less about me.”
"We're not done here, Jordan," he said, stalking after her. It was only when he blocked her path that she noticed how dark the circles under his eyes had gotten. His skin was pale, even for the fluorescent lighting in his office. There was an edge to his tone that hadn't been there before and she wasn't sure she liked it.