by G. A. Rael
No, it couldn't be. There were no surprises in Jordan's personalized version of Hell. Nothing ever deviated from the routine. That was what made it a nightmare, after all.
When bits of plaster began to fall from the ceiling, Jordan fell onto the mattress and pressed herself back against the wall, shielding her head from the falling debris. All she could do was watch in morbid fascination as a pair of wild metallic claws broke through the ceiling and curled to rip away part of the roof, like it was made of paper.
For centuries, she had begged and prayed and hoped for something different and this certainly fit the bill.
This must be it, thought Jordan. As the years turned into decades and flirted with centuries, she had lost hope that the angels would ever come to bestow the final judgment she now longed for.
The closet shook again as the swirling pit of the void opened up in the ceiling. Two sets of claws poised around the opening as if ready to tear it apart completely. When the face of the monster was revealed, she saw that it had horns like a ram's that curved back over its head, nested in hair so white it glowed. The creature's ears were pointed sharply and horribly sharp fangs slid past its smirking lips. Its skin was marbled, as if it was made of stone rather than flesh, but its eyes were what drew Jordan’s attention.
They were feline. Green. Familiar.
“Hermes?" Her voice was a raspy whisper after being out of use for so many decades.
"Don't look so surprised to see me, cupcake," he purred. "Did you really think Heaven's Gates could stop me from what's mine?"
Jordan staggered to her feet, unable to blink. "Your eyes. You have…horns." For the first time, he actually looked like a demon.
"At least I don't look like the Little Witch on the Prairie," he said, giving her outfit a disparaging once-over. "Is that gingham?"
Jordan looked down at the hand-sewn dress that had come with the package, then back at him. "How did you even get in here?"
"It would have been a literal hell of a lot easier if you hadn't gotten yourself locked up in maximum security," he muttered. "Lucky for you, you're my own personal key to Heaven."
Jordan's eyes widened. “How?”
“I own your soul and there’s nowhere I can’t find you. You're my witch bitch from here to eternity. Now, take my hand and let's get out of here," he said, reaching for her.
She hesitated, staring at his clawed hand. "You lied to me. You didn't tell me what I'd be doing to Darren if I brought him back."
His feline eyes rolled dramatically. "I didn't lie, I left out a few of the details. Hello? I'm a demon."
Jordan hesitated. If she took his hand, she’d escape one prison only to end up in another and she still didn’t know the full extent of his betrayal. “I can’t leave. The rest of Darren’s soul is locked up in the Vault.”
Hermes gave her an utterly bewildered look. Now he seemed like himself, horns aside. “Are you seriously going to stay in Purgatory because of your ex-boyfriend?”
“He’s more than that. According to Raguel, he’s my consort, so if you want my power, you have as much reason to save him as I do.”
The demon stared at her like he was trying to decide whether he could trust her. “Raguel said that?”
“Did I stutter?”
Hermes gritted his fangs and reached into the room to snatch her through the ceiling. When he put her down, they were standing on the roof of an isolated shed that appeared to be suspended in the middle of the same infinite void Jordan had fallen through. As she processed the diminutive reality of the place that had been her prison for so long and wasn't sure whether to sob in relief or scream in rage.
“Stay here,” he ordered before leaping off the side of the shed.
“Hermes!” Jordan cried, looking down as he disappeared into the nothingness. Her stomach churned as she thought of the endless fall, even though it seemed he wasn’t around to make it. Before she could figure out what to think, something landed on the shed behind her and she turned to see Hermes standing there, something clutched in his clawed hand.
“Where did you go?” Jordan cried. Hermes opened his hand to reveal a small, glowing white light within. Jordan’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”
“Darren’s soul,” he answered, snatching her left hand. As soon as he brought the light close, the blue stone in Jordan’s ring began to glow.
“What are you doing?” she cried. “What is that?”
“Two halves of the same whole,” he answered. “Hold still.”
Jordan watched in fascination as the white light rose off Hermes’ hand and hovered over the ring. The blue and white lights merged and when they both faded, only the stone was left.
“What did you do?” she asked, tearing her hand away. She flipped it over, examining the ring, but it looked the same as ever.
“I pieced Darren’s soul back together. You’re welcome.”
“What? Even Raguel said that wasn’t possible…”
“Angels lack imagination. You haven’t figured that out yet?” He sneered. “It’s not a permanent fix. The pieces are still split, but as long as you keep them safe and you’re in relatively close proximity of his body, he should be okay.”
“Are you saying my engagement ring was part of Darren’s soul this whole time?”
“I needed somewhere safe to put it, and at least it’s insured.”
Jordan let out a cry of frustration. She was torn between being relieved to see Hermes—to see anyone, really—and wanting to kill him, as usual.
“We need to go. It won’t be long before they figure out there’s been a breach,” he said, lifting her into his arms before she could protest.
“Hermes!”
He ignored her and leaped off the shed once more. As they plummeted into the void, Jordan's screams were swallowed up by the emptiness. After what seemed like another ten years at least, they landed on some flat surface with a loud thump. Hermes set her down and knelt on the roof of what appeared to be a large building.
"Where are we?" she asked, carefully inching towards the edge of the roof in an attempt to get a better look without falling into the abyss.
"Heaven's archives," he replied, rearing his arm back to thrust his elongated claws into the top of the roof. "Highest point in all of Heaven besides the Throne itself."
"But we just fell down."
"It's a matter of perspective, blah blah physics, quantum something or the other. I'd explain it, but we don't have time--and it's boring."
At least it was definitely Hermes. "Okay, but why are we here?"
He turned back to give her a dirty look. "Let's just say we're gonna need a little insurance policy of our own to get out of here in one piece."
Before she could respond, Hermes peeled open a section of the roof like the lid to a sardine can. “Wait here," he said, lowering himself through the hole.
"Like there's anywhere to go," Jordan called after him, hugging herself as she looked out into the vast expanse. The blackness alone seemed like enough to make a person go mad if they stared into it long enough, and Jordan knew her mental state was already on shaky ground after Purgatory, so she looked away. Moments turned into minutes and she began to grow worried that he wasn’t going to return at all. If Heaven's archives were important enough for Hermes to be interested in, they were important enough to have angelic guards. Even in his new and terrible form, Jordan wasn't sure if Hermes was a strong enough demon to face off against an angel.
In her mind, the chief difference between an angel and a demon was that a demon would kill you without a second thought while an angel would kill you without a first.
Just as Jordan was contemplating her odds if she went after him, Hermes finally appeared, carrying something that was roughly the size of Jordan's hand and wrapped in a shroud of linen. He tucked it away carefully inside his cloak. “Got it.”
"What is that?"
"Like I said," he replied, walking toward the distant edge of the building, "it's insurance against the angels for when w
e get home."
"How are we going to get back?" she asked, growing warier of the answer with each step he took closer to the edge.
"Remember when I told you this was the second-highest point in Heaven?"
"Yeah…”
"There's only one way down from Heaven if you don't have wings, and I kind of lost my flying privileges somewhere between the Ice Age and the Age of Jazz," he replied, hoisting her into his arms again.
“Hermes! You can’t be serious. We’ll die!”
“It’s not the first time I fell from Heaven, and it probably won’t be the last,” he announced, gazing down at her with mischief and madness in his eyes. “Do you trust me, Jordan?”
She replied with an emphatic, “No.”
Hermes laughed. “Good girl. Then you have learned something after all,” he said, holding out his hand. “Stay here and let it all be for nothing, or take a leap of faith and come with me. The choice is yours. It always was.”
Jordan might have laughed at that, if the chasm below had left room for anything other than terror. She could hear trumpets in the distance and the building they were standing on quaked with vibrations from what sounded like a whole army in pursuit. Something told her they were aware of the breech. She stared at Hermes’ hand and reluctantly reached out, still not quite sure what her decision was going to be when her fingertips brushed his and an all too familiar spark passed between them.
No… It wasn’t possible. Not him.
How many times had they touched? If Hermes was among her consorts, she would have known. Then again, touching Samael had been an entirely unique experience as well. Maybe things were more pronounced in the void.
She remembered the first time they’d kissed, the night of the full moon and the festival. The spark that had passed between them then. Looking back, she couldn’t remember him ever touching her on the full moon since and back then, she hadn’t understood what that spark meant…
One look in Hermes’ eyes told her everything and she realized the truth behind another one of his infamous half-truths. “You knew,” she whispered.
“I had a feeling,” he answered, his green eyes full of something she had never seen in them before. Something ancient and terrible and magical all at once. Something that chilled her to the bone and set her heart on fire. “What’s it going to be?”
Jordan swallowed her fear and took his hand. In that moment, she knew the greatest lie of all was that she’d ever had a choice. The two of them had been fated to cross paths long ago, and as Jordan dove with him into the abyss, her body pressed close to his and his arms wrapped around her to shield her from the fall, she came to accept that he was both her destiny and her curse. He was her savior and the one who’d damned her. She hated him, but she realized only as they were both falling toward earth at the speed of light that she also loved him, which was far more dangerous.
No, she had never had a choice. And yet, she chose him anyway.
To Be Continued.
Thank you for reading! If you can spare a moment, please share your thoughts by leaving a review! Book 2 in the Harem of Babylon series is planned for release in early June, 2018!
Questions or comments about the series?
Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/garaelauthor/
The Coven Facebook Group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1998406007080483/
The Coven Newsletter:
http://eepurl.com/ddxgdH
About the Author
G.A. Rael is a nonbinary author of paranormal romance and urban fantasy who enjoys writing about love in all pairings. If you like shifters who meet their match in sassy, curvy heroines, unapologetic bad boys with a soft spot for the right woman, and destined mates who fight for their happily ever afters, join The Coven Facebook Group!
Also by G.A. Rael
Current Series
The Nocturne Agency Series (Completed, M/F & MFM)
The Nocturne Agency
Twice Bitten
Blood and Water
The Harem of Babylon Series (Reverse Harem)
The Witch’s Familiars
The Rise of Babylon (Coming June 2018)
The Fall (Coming July 2018)