The Rise of Babylon

by G. A. Rael

  Max kept watching her, probably deciding whether or not to call her bluff. He finally snorted. “Haven’t you heard? We’ve got connections. You want me to call Darren?"

  "No," she said quickly. “Don’t do that.”

  Max gave her a suspicious glance. "I thought you two were friends again."

  "We are, it's just that Darren has a lot on his plate right now," she said, wincing at her choice of words.

  Max shrugged. "Well, you're welcome to crash here. Just don't mention it to my aunt that I was here."

  “Why not?”

  "She thinks I'm still away at training.”

  “Is that what happened to your eye?” Jordan asked, resisting the impulse to look away. He had the same intense gaze as his uncle did, even if the total package was far more appealing.

  She hadn’t seen much of Max at all since her return to Cold Creek, but there was something different about him. He couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than she was, but he seemed to have aged considerably in that time. His boyish features were stern somehow. She could certainly understand why he’d be angry if he was who she feared, but it didn’t seem to be directed at her, which was the greatest mystery of all.

  “It was an accident,” Max said in an icy tone.

  “There’s a lot of that going around this town lately, isn’t there?” Jordan tried to keep her voice steady, but the more she spoke, the further she could feel Max burning through his fuse. “The meteor, Lonne Greenwall, those people outside the bank…”

  Max’s eyes narrowed, but they didn’t move a sliver away from Jordan. “You know what they say about full moons. Everyone goes crazy.”

  Jordan reached for the bandage while his guard was down, but when he caught her wrist, she was the one in shock. The spark. This time, it wasn’t a vision that assaulted her but rather the heat that passed from him to her. She’d been so transfixed on the awful hallucination his touch had triggered the night of the festival that she hadn’t realized the far more unsettling truth beneath…

  “You…,” she whispered in disbelief. “You’re —”

  “Careful, Jordan,” Max snarled through his teeth. “You of all people should know there are some questions better left unanswered.”

  Jordan yanked her hand away and got the feeling she’d only succeeded because he let her. She leaped up from the couch and stared at the youngest Danbridge, uncertain of whether she should be more shocked that he was one of the five or that he was almost certainly a werewolf. The one who’d hunted her and then, even more inexplicably, saved her.

  Max made no move to get up and pursue her like Chase had. He sat there watching her as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tossed one leg over the other. “Do me a favor and don’t mention this to my aunt, either.”

  “The smoking or the fact that you turn into a monster and eat people every full moon?” she croaked.

  His lips quirked around the cigarette, a smirk almost too subtle to notice. “Both, if you don’t mind.”

  “How long?” she demanded. “How long have you been this way?”

  “How long have you been a witch?” he shot back, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “My whole life. Runs in the family.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened. “Does your aunt —?”

  “It’s only the men,” he answered. “Every male from the Danbridge line, happens around puberty. For me, it happened a little earlier than most.” He smirked. “Guess I’ve just always been in touch with my animal nature.”

  “Do the others know what you did? Do they know you kill people?”

  Max frowned. “You have a funny way of thanking a guy for saving your life.”

  “And taking four others.”

  “Five, including that demon who was stalking you.”

  “You knew what he was?” she asked, unable to disguise her shock.

  “Of course I knew. Wolves and demons have been fighting for the last ten thousand years. I know about your little cat, too.”

  One shock had barely settled before the next came. “Were you the one who attacked him?”

  “Attacked him?” Max grimaced. “Like I’d waste my time on a housecat. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hurt him.”

  “Why?” Jordan asked, afraid of the answer he’d give. If he knew about Hermes, then that almost certainly meant Hermes knew about Max. And had said nothing. His lies were nothing new, but her heart somehow found ways to be freshly betrayed each time.

  “It’s an old agreement he made with my ancestors,” Max answered boredly. “Goes back to the town founders.”

  “The ward,” Jordan murmured. “That’s why Cold Creek is protected.”

  “It’s a sanctuary.”

  “For werewolves?”

  “Among other things. We guard the place, and in return, the others who come here for shelter mind their place,” he said firmly. “Until you came along.”

  “What others are there?” Jordan asked. “How many people in town aren’t human?”

  “You might be better off asking how many are human,” he quipped. “And I’m not answering that question. Frankly, it’s none of your business.”

  He had a point. “Wait a minute. If your uncle is a werewolf, why does he have a task force devoted to hunting them?”

  “Hiding in plain sight. This town’s full of old crones who believe even older rumors,” said Max. “The council is Uncle Luke’s way of keeping them occupied. One gets a little too close to the truth and…”

  “You kill them?” she rasped.

  “No.” His voice betrayed his irritation. “Like I said, wolves aren’t the only thing taking sanctuary here. We have ways of making people forget.”

  Jordan wasn’t sure whether it should come as a relief that Max’s murderous ways were an anomaly in his family. Or his pack, as it were. “Darren doesn’t know about this?”

  “Of course not,” he snorted. “Have you met the guy? He doesn’t have room in his life for anything that defies logic.” He hesitated, growing somber for reasons Jordan didn’t fully understand. “Guess you’re the exception.”

  Jordan started to argue when Max held his hand up. “Don’t bother. I know he knows what you are, and more importantly, I know what he is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted.

  Max rolled his eyes. “I know your little crew thrives on deception, but a wolf’s nose never lies. Death has an unmistakable scent and Darren hasn’t been right since the equinox festival. I also know he’s the one who killed Lonne, so there’s no need to bullshit about that, either.”

  Jordan gulped. “It wasn’t his fault. It’s mine. I’m the reason he’s dead and I’m the one who —”

  “Brought him back, I know. Don’t look so surprised. Guilt has a scent, too.”

  “If you know, then why isn’t Darren in jail?”

  “You think Lonne’s the first casualty in town full of supernaturals?” Max cocked an eyebrow. “Something tells me the toll’s gonna be a lot greater from now on.”

  “Still. Your uncle doesn’t seem like the kind of man to let something like that slip.”

  “He’s not,” Max conceded. “I took the fall.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “…Darren.”

  “He’s like a brother to me,” Max said, his tone accusatory.

  “Is that why you haven’t come forward?” she asked, knowing she was going out on a ledge by assuming he recognized the connection between them. “I know you felt it, too. That night at the festival, when I read your palm…”

  “Of course I felt it,” he snapped, looking away. “I wasn’t sure you did, until today.”

  “I didn’t,” Jordan admitted. “I had a lot on my mind back then, and I saw something when I touched you that I…” She saw the way he was looking at her and shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “It’s rare for it to go both ways,” he murmured.

  Now Jor
dan was the one who was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “Imprinting,” he answered.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t…”

  Max squinted like he thought she was lying. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  “Afraid not.” Plenty of things had happened to her that day that had her on the verge of hysteria, but none of them were funny.

  “When a werewolf meets his mate, he imprints. It’s our word for love at first sight,” he grumbled. “Except instead of love, it’s more like insanity.”

  Jordan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She got the feeling she would have been insulted, if she didn’t already have so much on her mind. “That’s a little different from the way I understand it.”

  “Huh?”

  “How much do you know about Hermes, exactly?” Jordan asked carefully, deciding it was best to start there.

  “I know he made a deal with my great-great-great-great grandfather in a land deal a few hundred years ago,” Max answered. “The family fled persecution from the Church of England in 1581 and your prick of a familiar offered them a deal they couldn’t refuse. Sanctuary in exchange for keeping the land protected and turning it over to him when the time came.”

  “Didn’t they know what he was?”

  Max snorted. “Should’ve. He was pretending to be an angel back then, and they were in need of a savior. They bought the lie and here we are. Time to pay the piper.”

  “Okay, so you know about Hermes,” she sighed. “The real question is, do you know what I am?”

  “I’ve heard whispers.”

  “From who?”

  “A psychic, and no, I’m not telling you who it is.”

  “Fair enough.” Jordan folded her arms. “What does this psychic friend of yours say?”

  “Let’s just say she has some interesting theories about your love life.” Max’s eyes danced with amusement, and something else. “Your rates are a little high for these parts, Lady Babylon. A soul’s a hell of a price for a good time, don’t you think?”

  Jordan glared at him. “It’s a title. How long have you known?”

  “I wasn’t sure until now,” he admitted, flicking his ashes into the tray on the table. Lucas smoked cigars, but something told Jordan Cindy wouldn’t appreciate learning about her nephew’s habit. Then again, if he was a werewolf, how much harm could it really be doing? “Guess part of me didn’t want to believe my mate was so…infamous.”

  “Mate?” she echoed. “Now who’s being forward?”

  “You asked,” he reminded her.

  Jordan took a deep breath. “Yeah. I guess I did.” She paused. “At least it won’t break your heart to find out you’re not the only one.”

  “I figured. Darren, Chase and your sometimes-cat?”

  “And Sam,” Jordan answered.

  Max gave a bitter laugh and took another drink. “Of course. An angel. Why not?”

  “You know what he is?”

  “Unlike my shipwrecked ancestors, I can tell the difference between an angel and a demon. Not that it matters. They’re both dangerous, just in different ways.”

  “So we agree on something.”

  Max watched her long enough to make her squirm. “How much does Darren know?”

  “Everything,” Jordan said, too quickly. She could only hope Max’s nose couldn’t pick up the scent of the lie. He knew everything she was willing to divulge to the werewolf in front of her, at least.

  “Shit,” Max muttered.

  “I’m not keeping this from him,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to come between you any more than I already have, but I love him too much to lie to him. Especially about this.”

  She expected Max to argue, and the glare he was giving her was more intense than any words he could have come up with, but he finally sighed. “You’re right. I thought I could protect him if I kept him out of all of this, but…we’re beyond that now.”

  “We are,” Jordan agreed, hesitating. A realization she could have done without occurred to her at the worst possible time, but at least it was taking her mind off Chase. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. No promise I’ll answer, but you can ask.”

  Jordan decided to ignore his snark, since she’d gone into that house expecting far worse. “Last year, when Darren freaked on you for breaking up with your girlfriend. Was I —?”

  “The reason?” he interrupted, setting the bottle down. “No. I mean, indirectly, yeah, but if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been somebody else. We all imprint sooner or later, and I knew it wasn’t Lauren from the moment we met.”

  “How?” Jordan asked, confused.

  “It’s hard to explain to a human. Or whatever you are,” he muttered. “I didn’t fully understand it myself, until it happened.”

  “When?” she asked, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.”

  “The party,” he answered, confirming her worst fear.

  Jordan had always wondered about the nosedive her relationship with Max had taken, and her breakup with Darren could only account for part of it. He’d been so charming when they’d first met, but he’d put the brakes on as soon as she and Darren got together. The fact that he had imprinted on he raised more questions than it answered.

  “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say anything back then?”

  “Because I saw the way he looked at you,” Max answered in a somber tone. “The way he changed when you got together… I’d never seen him that happy. Not in a long time, at least.”

  “So you were willing to pretend like you didn’t imprint on me because ‘bros before hos of Babylon?”

  Max snorted. “Something like that.”

  For a moment. Jordan was at a loss for words. Her relationship with Max had always been tumultuous, but they had more in common than she’d ever imagined. Namely, they both loved Darren enough to do anything to protect him.

  “I never wanted any of this to happen,” she said, unsure of why it mattered so much for him to understand that. “I failed in every way, but all I ever wanted was for Darren to be okay. He died trying to protect me, and I thought bringing him back was the right thing to do.”

  “Let me guess. The demon made you a deal you couldn’t refuse?”

  Jordan nodded. She’d always felt like an idiot with regard to the night she’d sold her soul, but never more than she did after confessing to Max. “Hermes didn’t tell me what would happen when Darren came back. I altered his memory of me hoping he’d be able to move on and live a normal life apart from all this.”

  Max tilted his head, but she could tell he was actually listening. “You know, I think I believe you. But good intentions aside, if angels and demons are sniffing around this place, you’re both in danger. And that’s the tip of the iceberg if my uncle and the others find out Darren is the one who killed Lonne…”

  Jordan gulped. “You said it’s not the first casualty. He knows you killed those people…”

  “I’m pack,” Max reminded her. “And what happened that night was…unusual.”

  “How so?” she asked, afraid to get her hopes up that she wasn’t the mate of a homicidal monster who frequently went on killing sprees.

  “The Moonstone,” he answered. “When it went off, I shifted involuntarily.”

  “What about the rest of the pack? Why didn’t they kill anyone?”

  Max took on a demeanor of shame that Jordan hadn’t expected him to be capable of. “I’m weird, even for a werewolf. The others aren’t monsters, they’re just normal wolves. I’m…” He trailed off and Jordan couldn’t get the image of the beast she’d seen in her vision out of her mind. “When the stone went off, I lost my head. Especially when I heard you calling to me.”

  “Calling?” Jordan echoed. “What are you talking about?”

  Max frowned. “You really don’t remember?”

  Jordan started to deny it when she remembered the prayer that had gone through her mind in those moments where she was s
o desperate to escape the vault and save the others. “Holy shit… I’m psychic?”

  He actually laughed, which was something she felt like she should win an award for. “No. Not as far as I know. When a wolf’s mate is in trouble, she could be a thousand miles away and he’d still come to her. Of course, it usually only happens once things are official, but…”

  “Official? Do I even want to know what that means?”

  “Probably what you’re afraid it means.”

  “At least you’re honest,” Jordan muttered. “While we’re on the subject, you being one of my consorts comes with certain...expectations.”

  “Consort?” He grimaced.

  “Sorry, but I’m not the one who picked the term. I think familiar applies, if you’d prefer it.”

  “It’s better.” He hesitated. “So Darren knows about you and the other three?”

  “He knows. I wouldn’t say he’s happy about it, but he knows.”

  Max shook his head. “And that bastard’s always on my ass for keeping secrets.”

  “To be fair, you’ve been sitting on a werewolf dynasty for your entire friendship and this is all still pretty new to him.”

  Max grunted. “Guess we kind of have to tell him.”

  “It’s the right thing to do.” When she saw the way he was looking at her, she added, “It’s not like I asked for this job. It’s mine whether I want it or not and the only reason I’m working with Hermes is because the alternatives will lead to countless people dying.”

  “And you really think he’ll follow through on his promises?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “But that puts me in the same boat as your pack, doesn’t it?”

  Max considered her words thoughtfully. When he finally stood up, Jordan prepared herself for another fight, but instead, he offered his hand. She stared down at it warily and looked up to meet his eyes. “What’s this for?”

  “A truce,” he answered. “I’ve tried pushing you as far away as possible, and that’s obviously not working. Since we’re kind of stuck with each other and all our cards are on the table, I figure we might as well try working together.”