by G. A. Rael
"Thanks a lot," Jordan muttered, shooting Darren a dirty look.
He shrugged. "The fact that you brought me here instead of turning me in is proof enough that you can't be trusted with matters of your own self-preservation."
"What college boy said."
She rolled her eyes. "As adorable as your fledgling bromance is, we have bigger issues right now. Namely, how we're going to keep the police off Darren's tracks."
"We're not," Darren said, standing. His head spun but he found his legs surprisingly sturdy. He did forget that he was only wearing a blanket and scrambled to pull it back around his waist.
Jordan blushed noticeably.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Samael asked.
"It means someone is going to have to get me a change of clothes from my apartment and then I'm going to turn myself in for murder."
"Look, I might have killed the angel of judgment and I don't know a tort from a tart, but what you did was manslaughter at best," said Samael. "Second of all, when the murder weapon is teeth, things get a bit murky. We might've put off the biblical apocalypse for a spell, but we'll have another one on our hands if the general public gets wind that there are zombies out there. You don't have a heartbeat. How're you gonna explain that to your medical examiner? They will investigate if they get tipped off to the fact that it wasn't just another 'bear attack.' Are you willing to take the chance that no one saw Jordan get you outta that alley?"
Darren hesitated. "I hadn't thought about it like that.”
"I bet you haven't thought about much other than brains since your dealer's been gone," Sam shot back. "I know it wasn't your choice, but ever since you got brought back from the dead, you haven't had the luxury of making decisions that affect only you. We're all in this together, the three of us, and until I figure out why, no one makes any more stupid moves without talkin' to me first. Now before I get to work, is there anything else that happened while I was gone?"
Jordan and Darren fell silent. Neither could meet the other's eyes, or Samael’s, for that matter.
The angel grimaced as he put two and two together. “Gross. That’s the one kind of update I don’t wanna know about.”
"Where are you going?" Jordan asked, following him to the door.
"I'm taking your lovely friend's advice and applying down at the police department," he said, glancing back at Darren. "God knows we're gonna need an inside connection."
“Yeah. Maybe you could even start buying your own beer," Darren muttered.
"Besides, if there's a werewolf in town, there's no way it's a coincidence," Samael said, ignoring the remark. "I'll be able to keep an eye on all the 'animal' attacks and take care of it before it draws too much attention to us."
"Take care of it?" Jordan frowned. "You mean kill it."
"Look, this ain't one of your fluffy little dairy cows to save," said Samael. "I don't know why that wolf tucked you in instead of munching on your insides, but you can bet it wasn't 'cause he wants to be your new pet."
Jordan looked distraught, but she didn't argue with him, to Darren's surprise. If she was so upset over a monster who had killed nearly half a dozen people, he could only imagine how she had felt coming upon what he had done in the alley. The image haunted him, but not as much as it probably should have.
Samael started to leave, but Jordan stopped him in the doorway. "If you leave again, will you at least say goodbye first?"
The angel touched her cheek with a tenderness Darren could tell didn't come easily for him. Anger riled in his gut as he watched them, but at least this was a very human kind of jealousy.
"You have my word," Sam said, glancing up at Darren with a knowing smirk. “I’d better get on out of here before Herman Munster gets too jealous."
Darren rolled his eyes, but he was never more glad to see the angel leave. Jordan wandered over to him. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than the guy I left in the alley."
She cringed. "Darren, you heard Samael. Turning yourself in would only cause more problems."
"Yeah, for him. Anyway, before you heard any of that, you were in cover-up mode,” he reminded her. You were willing to disturb a damn murder scene to protect me.”
"So?"
“So?” he echoed, sitting on the edge of the bed to take her hands in his. "This isn't you, Jordan. You're innocent and good and everything a cynic like me tries so hard to believe doesn't exist anymore in this world."
"Things change," she said in an attempt at a cold tone. "I'm not the same person I was when I came to Cold Creek."
"That's my point, you're not the same. But it's not too late to go back. You heard what Samael said, Hermes is intent on turning you into some kind of weapon and I don't think he'd care if there wasn't a shred of the real you left behind."
"I couldn't go back even if I wanted to, Darren,” she said, pulling away from him. "The way I was before was awful. I was powerless and useless. Maybe Hermes is a lying son of a bitch, but he taught me to stand up for myself."
Darren clenched his jaw. "When we first met, you were terrified of angels. I've never seen fear like I saw in your eyes when you spoke about them."
"Yes, and then I became friends with one. Life is crazy like that."
"That's not what I mean. All this time, it's the angels you've been so scared of, but did you ever stop to think that maybe the demons are the ones who really do live up to their reputations?" he challenged.
She was quiet for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. “You think I trust Hermes, but I don’t. I learned that lesson the first time he left me. No illusions here.”
Darren wasn’t convinced, but her pensive silence made him second guess the urge to press her on it.
"I'm sorry," she said at length.
"Sorry?"
"For not picking up the phone. If I had, maybe none of this would have happened."
"That's not true. You just would have been in the way. Who knows what I would have done to you in that state? I'm glad you didn't answer.” He hesitated. “But I do have to ask…why haven’t you been taking my calls?”
Jordan hugged herself and he had to resist the urge to go over to her and envelop her in his arms. "I didn't know what to say.”
He gulped. "Maybe not, but I do. I'm sorry, Jordan. I wasn't thinking clearly at the time, but I know I shouldn’t have let it happen. You were vulnerable and heartbroken after what I told you about Chase, and —”
"What?" She interrupted, staring at him. “Darren, please don't apologize for that. That night is one of the only things in my life I can look back on and not regret. I wish it had happened a year ago, then maybe things would be different, but I'm the one who used you."
He took her hand and pulled her down beside him. “What are you talking about? You know I love you."
"I know," she said, her voice thick with some emotion he didn't want to read. He was too afraid it was regret. “But so does Chase, and I can’t give either of you what you deserve.”
Darren's heart plummeted with its own dead weight as her words sank in. "You're staying with him."
Her avoidance of his gaze and silence were all the confirmation he needed. "Why?" he demanded, angry at the situation even though he knew it probably seemed like he was angry at her. "How could you stay with him after what he did to you? After the affair?"
"He wasn't having an affair," she said shakily. "It was a misunderstanding."
"Of course it was," he scoffed. "He's a lawyer, Jordan. He lies. It's his job."
She shook her head. “Not to me. Not about this.”
"What about the partnership? What about New York?"
"He told me what happened," she said, squaring her shoulders. "He didn't tell me he wasn't in New York because he didn't want me to worry. He was in London, looking for Hermes. Same as Samael."
Darren's face fell. "How would Chase know how to find Hermes?"
“Like you said, he’s a lawyer. He finds people. It's his job," she said dryly.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I figure I owe him the chance to explain it on his own time.”
“And us?” he challenged. “Did you tell him what happened?”
“I did,” she said, looking away. “He understands my role in all this, and he’s accepted his. He’s not the one I’m worried about.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not the person you fell in love with, Darren. It means that what we had back then is over, and it’s never coming back.” Her words were gentle, but God, did they sting. “I can’t be yours the way I was. Can you accept that?”
“I can accept what you are,” Darren said gruffly. Sometimes it felt like it would kill him, but he could accept it because he loved her, and it didn’t matter if she belonged to four other people. He’d rather share her, possessive bastard that he was, than have anyone else all to himself. “I can even accept the other consorts, but Chase? I’ve tried, but I’m never going to be able to pretend like I think he’s good enough for you. You don't belong with him and you know it."
"And why is that?"
"Because you don't love him!"
"That's not true."
"Prove it."
"What do you want me to do, read my own palm?"
"Marry him," said Darren, crossing his arms. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them, but it was too late to go back now. "If you really love him, stop putting it off. Get hitched. Run off into the sunset, but we both know you won't."
Her eyes blazed. “You sure about?"
"Yep," he said. God, he hoped so. "Because at the end of the day, I might be a fucked-up monster who deserves to be rotting in jail rather than waking up next to you every morning, but you and me have been drawn together from the very beginning. Maybe you do love him, but you've had to work for every shred of your heart that you've given to him, and you know why?" he challenged, tracing the curve of her jaw. “Because he can only have the pieces that slip through my fingers."
Jordan stared up him, her breathing shallow. She was leaning away so much he had to place his hand on the small of her back to keep her from falling.
“And what do you think I should do?" she asked breathily. It was half a challenge, half a genuine question. "Run off into the sunset with you instead?"
He gave her a small, sad smile. "Of course not. I deserve you even less than he does. You should go with Samael."
"What?"
"Don't act so incredulous," he snorted. "I've seen the way you look at each other. You hang on his every word. You respect him and sometimes that's a better indicator of love than passion, but from the way you melted when he touched you in the doorway, I don't think there's any shortage of that either."
"He's an angel, Darren," she scoffed.
"A fallen angel. An independent contractor, as far as I can tell, but he can still protect you. He can keep you safe better than Chase or I ever could and there's no baggage with him.” Darren hadn't woken up the day before thinking he would be trying to convince the only woman he had ever truly loved to run off with another man, but it had been one of the less remarkable aspects of the day.
"He doesn't feel that way," Jordan muttered. "And even if he did, I still love Chase. And you."
"He fell for you," Darren said pointedly. "You think he just did that because he admired your stance on eternal justice?"
"Yes?"
He rolled his eyes. “And here I thought you weren't the naïve farm girl who rolled off the corn truck anymore."
"You're getting your states mixed up.”
"I'm not saying you have to run off with Samael,” Darren clarified. “I’m just saying, you have options. Don't settle for someone just because you feel obligated. That goes for me too, in case you were wondering.”
Jordan was quiet, which gave him hope that just maybe she was considering what he said. More likely, she was formulating her rebuttal. "Let's just focus on dealing with the fact that we're both felons and try to keep a low profile."
Darren nodded grudgingly. He still wanted to turn himself in, but Samael had left him convinced that doing so would only put Jordan at risk. His conscience had adjusted to the idea of murder with disturbing ease, but bringing harm to her would cause problems that could no longer be solved with a bullet.
"I'll see if Hermes has something you can wear home,” she said, digging through a dresser drawer. "You should open the clinic at the same time as usual. Just try not to do anything out of the ordinary today."
He caught the T-shirt and pants she threw him and pulled them on. The shirt was snug since it was made for Hermes’ willowy body, but it would have to do. “And sneaking out of your apartment isn't going to arouse suspicion?"
"Maybe, but not the kind we need to avoid," she said, sighing. "It's a decent alibi."
“And what’s the alibi for our alibi?” he challenged, looking down at her.
Jordan held his gaze, stubborn as ever. “No alibi needed. Not as long as you understand that at the end of the day, I’m still marrying Chase.”
Darren snorted. “Of course you are.”
“You don’t have to be part of this, Darren. We already slept together,” she murmured. “I still don’t know what power that’s going to unlock, but your job is done if you want it to be.”
He winced at the word job, even though he knew she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. “I’m not going anywhere,” he gritted out. “Not unless you tell me to.”
He couldn’t read her expression, but that just made him fear her answer even more.
“I should,” she said quietly. “But I’m selfish enough to keep you as long as you’re willing to stay.”
“Forever,” he answered, touching her cheek. He just hoped she could live with that.
Chapter 22
Jordan
Word of Lonne Greenwall's death spread quickly, and Jordan was afraid of how easy lying had become. She’d made a vow of honesty to Chase with the best of intentions, but after Darren’s “mishap,” she wasn’t sure what to do. There was no love lost between them, and she knew telling him would put a target on Darren’s head. Best case scenario, Chase would want her to stay away from the man he would rightfully perceive as a threat, which would only make things worse, considering that Darren needed to be within close proximity of his soul.
She sat on Chase's couch waiting for him to get home from his council meeting. Now that he’d made up his mind to stay in Cold Creek, he hadn't taken much convincing to join the town council, and Cindy was thrilled. Chase's parents had extended a dinner invitation to celebrate the news, but Jordan could imagine that her mother-in-law was less than thrilled that she’d “failed” to convince Chase to take the partnership.
Lilian had the eyes of a hawk and the intuition of a sage. Sooner or later, she would realize something was amiss in her son’s marriage. Namely that there were four other people involved in it.
The door opened and Jordan jolted, nearly spilling her fourth glass of wine. Chase's hair was slightly disheveled and the collar of his trench coat was turned up on one side. For anyone else it would have been nothing, but for him to tolerate such a deviation from his usual meticulousness about his appearance raised a dozen red flags.
"Jordan! What a pleasant surprise," he said, smiling in such delight that it both filled her with guilt and reassured her that the town wasn't burning down. Probably.
She set her glass aside and stood to greet him. "I'm sorry for letting myself in, but there's something I need to get off my chest, so I wanted to see you as soon as possible."
"Don't be silly, love. This will be your home once we're married anyway."
"Sure," she said, hesitating. They had never talked about her moving in before, but it was a reasonable assumption. There was no point debating it anyway, she told herself. After tonight, he was probably never going to want to speak with her again. "Is everything okay? You look�
�” she paused, searching for the word, "disheveled."
He raked a hand through his hair self-consciously. "Heh. I guess I am. I was about to call you, actually. It's a good thing I joined the council. You wouldn't believe the things that get said behind those doors."
Jordan gulped. "Any juicy gossip?"
“Plenty,” he said, ushering her into a chair. "First, can I get you a glass of—oh, I see you've already had one."
Try four, she thought, blushing.
Chase sat across from her and leaned forward, his eyes glistening. "You know that bear attack? The one that killed Lonne Greenwall, I mean."
She nodded ruefully.
"Well, it wasn't an animal attack. Not a normal animal, anyway."
Jordan's throat tightened. "You don't say."
He leaned closer. "It was a werewolf. The werewolf, I’m sure.”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Who said that?”
“The mayor. I had to swear an oath not to breathe a word of this to anyone," Chase said, lowering his voice with a wary glance over his shoulder. “You have to keep this between us."
"I promise, Chase. What's going on?"
"Lucas met with a small group of us after the 'official' meeting ended. He's been aware of the wolves for some time, but until now, they've never caused any issues."
“Wolves plural?” she croaked, still reeling from the news that Lucas and the others knew of the supernatural world. And had some sort of task force devoted to it, apparently. At least that took some of the heat off of Darren.
"Yes, a pack," Chase said excitedly. "They've been here since his great-grandfather was the mayor. Lucas has always had a feeling they lived in town, at least some of them, but there was never any reason to investigate them. He's made a lot of changes to the council and gathered a group of people he thinks he can trust to find out who they are without making a scene. Tonight, I became one of them.”
“Holy shit,” Jordan breathed. “I don’t understand. Darren was on the council. He never mentioned any of this.”
