by G. A. Rael
“Did they really send you to Hell?" The word seemed to catch in his throat.
Jordan felt a pang of sympathy for him. After a lifetime of having tales of its horrors drilled into her mind, the mundane reality of Hell had been an almost pleasant surprise. She could only imagine what it was like for Darren to be forced to acknowledge its existence.
"I wish," she muttered. "I got sent to Paradise, which doesn't even come close to living up to its name. Hell actually wasn't that bad. I'm sorry, I know all this must be overwhelming for you."
"You have no idea," he said with a snort. "I'll get over it, though. I'm not the one who was stuck there for almost half a year. I can't even imagine what you went through."
Jordan fell silent.
"What is it?" he pressed, as if sensing her hesitation. "Jordan, please."
"It was a little over three months on Earth," she said quietly. "Things aren't as concrete in Paradise as they are here, or even in Hell. Time passes differently.”
"How differently?"
"I lost track after the first few centuries. It's probably best to leave it at that. It's all still kind of raw."
"You're kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Jordan shook her head. She gasped in surprise when Darren's arms wrapped around her. He was still being excruciatingly careful with her, but the embrace was tight enough to make her feel safe in a way she had never thought she would feel again. "I'm so sorry," he said, making an endearingly clumsy attempt at stroking her hair. At first, she was hesitant to return his embrace, but she soon found herself holding him like her life depended on it.
"It's okay," she said, stroking his back absently. "It was worth it. No matter what they did, I knew I could never live with myself if I just handed your soul over to that... that..." She trailed off when she felt in danger of being overwhelmed by frustration. "The English language is woefully inadequate to describe the angel who sends people to Hell."
"An angel?" Darren frowned. "It's bad enough that God and all his jolly little helpers are real, but now you're telling me that he outsources eternal judgment because he can't be bothered to do it himself?"
"Is becoming an atheist still an option at this point?" Jordan asked with a tired smile.
Darren snorted. "Afraid not, but I hear the Church of Satan is taking new members. This is such bullshit."
"Preaching to the choir."
They stayed in silence for a long while. Jordan rested her head against Darren's chest, content to indulge in the fantasy that they were in his living room once again with few cares besides town gossip and deciding on which movie to watch next.
"So," Darren said, "you said my soul is bound to an object. Do I even want to know where it is?"
"Probably not," she admitted, holding out her hand.
Darren stared at the ring in silence for a while before muttering, "Son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry. Hermes has a twisted sense of humor."
"So I've noticed. So if my 'soul' isn't in my body, how am I walking around? How am I feeling anything?”
"Your soul only has to exist in order for you to keep living, from what I can tell," she explained. “Hermes said that you'll pretty much be your normal self as long as you stay close to me. I think that's why you started acting weird when we broke up."
"Guess that line about love being your heart walking around outside your body was literal in my case," he muttered.
"Guess so." She looked over his disheveled appearance and frowned. "Did you feel it when I was gone?"
He gave a dry laugh.
"What?"
"Nothing," he said. "Yeah, you could say I felt it. It's nothing for you to worry about, though.”
Jordan frowned, struggling to decipher the secondary meaning behind his cryptic words.
"Darren, if something happened —”
"It's nothing."
She winced at his tone and he gave her hair an apologetic stroke. "I'm sorry. I don't think being dead has done anything for my personality."
She smiled slightly, but his reassurance did nothing to assuage her growing concern. "Well," she began, deciding not to badger him for the moment, “now that I'm back, it should get better."
"Can't I just buy your ring off of Chase and keep it on me?"
She hesitated. “The angels will be coming for you, Darren, and me. Samael is kinder than I expected, but it's his job to make sure the dead don't rise before their time, and Raguel--the angel who sentenced me to Paradise--will take it as a personal blow to his ego that I escaped under his watch. Besides, I’m pretty sure Samael hates me now.”
“Why?” It seemed to occur to Darren before she could answer. “He’s one of your consorts?”
“Yeah. And if the angels get their hands on your soul…”
“They can use it to manipulate you again," Darren said in a somber tone. When he saw how much his correct guess had startled her, he gave her a crooked smile that gave her hope he hadn't changed all that much. "I might be a zombie, but I can still put two and two together. You're an interstellar space criminal now and I'm your biggest weakness."
Jordan sighed. “As you can probably guess, Hermes isn’t going to let me or the ring out of his sight. Chase’s house is a lot closer to your apartment's than Mrs. Herrin's. I'll be moving in once we get married anyway, so as long as we meet up a few times a week, you shouldn't have any problems. Allison doesn't have to know about any of this."
"Jordan, Allison and I broke up," he said, frowning.
"You did?" Her heart skipped a beat and she realized she wasn’t acting nearly as upset as she should have. "Why?"
"I wish I could say it was when I realized I didn't really love her, but it wasn't."
"When was it, then?"
He hesitated again. "I just found out she did something that I could never forgive her for."
"Oh," Jordan murmured. "Well, if you can forgive me for what I did, I'm sure the two of you can work it out."
"I don't have to forgive you for anything, Jordan," he said, taking her hands in his. "I'm the one who should be begging your forgiveness." He leaned in and before Jordan could force herself to stop him, his lips were against hers, soft but cold to the touch. She found herself returning the kiss, like it was such a natural thing to do that her body didn't see the need to get permission from her mind.
"We can't do that," she said, breaking the kiss suddenly. She brought a trembling hand to her lips, horrified by the betrayal she had just committed without a second thought.
"Why not?” he asked. "The apocalypse could start tomorrow for all we know, and I’m just one of your five consorts. What's so taboo about a kiss?"
"Because we're not together anymore, Darren," she said hiding her hands in the folds of her robe since they couldn't seem to stop trembling. It was a sensible answer. Why couldn't her heart accept it? “Destiny doesn’t change that. I’m so sorry you got mixed up in this and I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t affect your life any more than necessary, but I still haven’t even gotten the chance to talk to Chase about all of this. It’s not fair to him, and I… I don’t even know how I feel.”
Darren listened as she spoke, taking it all in stride. After a few seconds, he nodded. “Fair enough. I just have to ask you one last question, and I need the honest answer.”
Jordan gulped. She had a bad feeling she knew what it was going to be, but she didn't stop him.
"Are you in love with Chase?”
There it was. "Darren --"
"It's a simple question and an even simpler answer," he insisted. “Are you really in love with him? Yes or no?"
Jordan bit her lip. "If you had asked me that before I left, I don’t know what the answer would have been.”
"And now?"
She took a deep breath. The answer was as much of an admission to herself as to him. "Yes. I'm in love with Chase. For a long time, I was just staying with him out of guilt, but all the time I spent alone in that awful closet g
ave me time to think about a lot of things."
"Closet?"
"Never mind, it's not important," she murmured. "It gave me perspective, though."
"The perspective you needed to realize you were in love with a murderer?"
Jordan's eyes narrowed. For the first time since she could remember, Darren made her heart beat faster for a reason other than infatuation. "Don't start down that road again, Darren. Chase is the only person in my life who's always been there for me without fail and without asking anything in return. When you and I broke up, I went to a dark place. On the one hand, I was glad you were finally getting away from me, and that you had a chance at living a normal life, but there were times I thought I'd never smile again."
"Let me guess. Along came Chase?”
"Yeah," she said quietly, looking down at the ring on her hand. "He became one of my best friends. Whenever I needed him, he was just there and he accepted everything about me. I told him things about my past, things I've never even told Hermes, and I don't even know if he believed me, but it didn't matter. He listened and he held me and when he told me he loved me, I knew he meant all of me, not just the parts that were easy to love. Until I met Chase, love was always conditional, always based on what I did rather than who I was. When someone comes along and loves you with no strings and no conditions for so long without stopping, it's impossible not to return it on some level."
"Unlike me," Darren added. "Unlike the guy who only loved you when it was convenient."
"It's not that, Darren," she insisted, putting her hand over his. "You're a wonderful man and you were a wonderful boyfriend. I was the one who made you forget —”
"Don't," he said, clenching his jaw. "Don't make excuses for me. There might be demons and avenging angels and fucking dragons buzzing around in the sky, but I still have my free will. Mind control is a bullshit excuse for treating the woman you love the way I did.”
Jordan froze, startled by his admission. Not long ago—at least by Earth standards—her heart would’ve soared if Darren had wanted to be in the same room with her, let alone admitted that he loved her. Now the admission only filled her with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Darren. Maybe Hermes is right and you are my soulmate, but… all deals aside, I'll know I really have lost my soul if I betray the commitment I made to Chase.”
"No, you're right," he said, straightening his back. "I'm sorry, I was out of line for kissing you. It won't happen again."
"You weren't the one out of line," she said softly. "I wish the timing had been different."
"You don't need to explain yourself to me," he said, holding his hand up to stop her. "The timing was right for us plenty of times, I just screwed it up on every single occasion."
"I'm sorry, Darren," she repeated. It was the only safe thing to say. Her heart wanted to say so much more.
"You're not gonna be in a second," he muttered. "At the risk of sounding like a jealous ex-boyfriend, there's something about Chase you need to know if you're really gonna go through with marrying him."
Jordan sighed. "Please, let's not fight over his past again."
"We're not going to fight. All I want is for you to hear me out, and then so help me Samael, I'll never bring up his past again."
She frowned. "Not funny."
"Just let me say my piece," he pleaded.
"Fine," she murmured, crossing her arms. "For the last time, Darren."
"Thank you," he said, leaning forward. "You remember how I told you once that Chase was a different person in high school?"
"How could I forget? You and everyone else in this town over the age of thirty practically uses it as a catchphrase."
He snorted. "I don't think you understand how he changed. Chase was a fucking asshole back then. He went through girls like paper towels. He used them up and threw them away like trash when he got tired of them. He treated his own mother like shit. The cops were always showing up at their house and the Wyldes were two shakes away from sending him off to boot camp.”
"He told me he had a rough past. He admits that he put his parents through hell when he was a teenager, but he talks about his mother like she hung the moon. I can't believe he would raise his hand against any woman, never mind his own mother, if that’s what you’re implying.”
"That's my point, if you'll let me get to it," said Darren. "The Chase you know wouldn't. Hell, he picked up a wounded bird once and brought it into my clinic. When I wouldn't let him pay me for setting its wing, the prick sent in an anonymous donation to the charity drive."
"How did you know about it if it was anonymous?"
"Cindy has a way of blurting things out when she's had a few mimosas at council meetings."
"If this anecdote is supposed to convince me that Chase is a soulless killer, it could use some work.”
"It's not. My point is that there are two Chases.” He paused, wrinkling his nose. "That sounds weird."
"On multiple levels," Jordan agreed, folding her arms. "Are you trying to tell me he has some Jekyll and Hyde thing going on?”
"That's just it, I don't know what it is. All I know is that one day he was the asshole I'd grown up with all my life and the next he was this soft-spoken kid with a vacant stare and perfect behavior. He went from failing all his classes to acing every test and showing up at Model UN meetings. Even after Jessica's disappearance, he still had girls flinging themselves at him, but it was like he didn't even notice. All his rivalries and friendships just suddenly ceased to matter."
"Your rivalry certainly seems to have survived," said Jordan, struggling to quell the unease building within her as Darren spoke.
He smirked. "If anything, I'd say he hated me even more after whatever it was that happened. I don't know if they had him lobotomized or he found Jesus, but either way, he hasn't been the same."
"Then maybe you could try sharing that observation with the town instead of sending them after him," said Jordan.
"What was I supposed to think when you disappeared?"
“I’m a flake who moved to a town across the country with zero connections. I thought the explanation would piece itself together.”
"Well, it didn't. We've already established that I'm not exactly capable of being logical where you're concerned," he said, standing. The sound of his bones cracking made them both wince. "Guess my body still hasn't gotten the memo that it came back from the dead."
"You're not having any other symptoms, right?"
"If by symptoms you mean cravings, yeah," he said flatly. “But it's under control."
"Darren!"
"I said it's under control, Jordan," he said in a tone that left no room for argument. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go back home and clean up whatever mess I’m sure Allison left when she stormed out.”
"You could stay here," she said, standing. "There's plenty of room."
He cast a rueful glance up the stairs. "Thanks, but no thanks. I just need some time alone."
Jordan's heart clenched at his words, but she nodded. She reminded herself that although she had spent an eternity away from him, Darren didn't have as much catching up to do. "Of course. Just call if you need anything."
There was a strangely sad look in his eyes they passed over her. "That's my line, kiddo. You're the one who's been through hell." He cringed. "Sorry."
Jordan smiled. "It's okay. I’m sure I’ll be used to the bad puns after a week at home with Hermes.”
Chapter Five
Jordan
Jordan had long since tuned out her landlady's ranting, focusing instead on her untouched cup of tea while Hermes slept curled up at her feet. He was back to his furry, docile self and she wasn't eager to see him in his monstrous form again anytime soon. As Jordan had learned, the sturgeon moon was the time when demons were forced to walk the earth in their true shapes. She didn't know if Hermes' true form was particularly awful for a demon and had no desire to find out.
Fortunately, Chase knew the sheriff, just like he knew every other important person
in town, so there had been no major police drama upon her return. Ingratiating himself with the local authorities had been a matter of survival, after all, even if it couldn't stop the tongues of the town gossips from wagging. Unfortunately, even Chase couldn't shield her from Mrs. Herrin, and since he had returned to work, Jordan found herself facing the woman's wrath alone. Hermes didn't exactly count as an ally.
"Are you listening to me?" Mrs. Herrin demanded, finally coming to a stop after pacing for so long that Jordan thought she might wear a trail into the floor.
"Yes, Mrs. Herrin," Jordan said, looking up sharply. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking."
"That's good, 'cause you sure as hell weren't using your brain when you up and left,” she snapped. "You know you can't just do that whenever you feel like it. When you sign a damn lease, you have certain responsibilities."
"I was hoping the money I left might cover the breach of contract," she said dryly.
Mrs. Herrin slammed her palms down on the table so hard Jordan jolted. "You think I care about that? I thought you were dead with the way you were going on about that crazy father of yours and how much danger Darren was in before you left. Do you know what it's like to comb the news, just waiting for someone you see every day to turn up as a headline?"
Jordan flinched. "I didn't think you would be that worried."
"How could I not be? You show up here like some helpless girl who's crawled out of a bomb shelter still thinkin' it's 1954, without a lick of sense in your head," she said, huffing. Jordan noticed the moisture in her eyes with no small amount of wonder. Was the unflappable Mrs. Herrin really on the verge of tears over her? "You don't know what's been going through my head these last five months. Here I thought your daddy had finally snatched you or that your--" she broke off, but she didn't need to finish for Jordan knew her fiancé was the next in the line of suspects. "That someone else had done something awful to you. Lord knows this town has had its share of tragedy."
