“It doesn’t mean much without Seth,” I said.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Roman. He reached for the wine bottle. “You’re on the verge of getting your soul and your life back . . . and he’s still what determines your happiness ? You don’t need a relationship to be happy, Georgina.”
“No,” I agreed. “But Seth’s not just any relationship. He’s tied to my soul. He found me in the world of dreams. We’ve come together, life after life. I’m not just some girl who needs a guy around. Seth and I are connected. We both have done terrible things to each other . . . but also made great sacrifices for each other. It just seems like only half a victory to get my soul back but not be with the person who’s affected it so much.”
Roman surprised me by acknowledging the point. “Okay. I can see where you’re coming from there.”
“And,” added Carter gently, “you need to replay your own words there. You and Seth have come back together, life after life. What makes you think you won’t again?”
“Well, his recent actions for one,” I remarked bitterly. “That and . . . I don’t know. Just the look in his eyes.”
“Seth had a lot thrown at him all at once. Whose idea was the hypnosis anyway?”
“Mine,” said Roman. “And get that accusing tone out of your voice. It was the fastest and easiest way we had to get the information we needed.”
“Perhaps,” said Carter. “But there’s a reason reborn mortals forget their past lives. It’s a lot to process, and that kind of regression brings on too much, too fast.”
“Hugh kind of said something like that too,” I said.
Carter nodded, gray eyes kind. “Don’t give up on Seth yet. I think he might surprise you once he’s settled down. He loved you enough to always come back to you. He loved you enough to remember you, even when Hell tried to erase you from his mind. That’s powerful stuff, Daughter of Lilith.”
It was, and I suddenly questioned how fairly I’d been approaching this situation. My old fears had held me back from truly fighting for Seth. I also hadn’t really tried to imagine what it must be like for him to have ten people in one mind.
“It could take a while,” I said, unable to meet Carter’s eyes. “For him to come around, I mean. And it could take a while for Hell to respond to my appeal too, right?” Both men nodded. “What do I do then? What do I do with all that time?”
“You live,” said Carter. “You go on with the life you have, with the opportunities you have. You want your soul. You want Seth. If it’s within your power to achieve those things, do it. If it’s not, accept it and figure out what else you want.”
I muddled over his words. “Part of my immediate life is dictated for me. I have to go to Las Vegas.”
“What do you want to do there?” prompted Carter.
“Be happy . . . if it’s possible.” I knew I was being melodramatic but couldn’t help it. “If I have to be there, I’d like some sort of chance at a happy life that I created. Not a fake one Hell fashioned for me.” I thought about it some more. “I’d like to find out if Bastien is my friend first and Hell’s servant second.”
“There you go,” said Carter. “Start there. Focus on what you can control.”
“I’d like to help Seth’s family too,” I added, kind of on a roll now. “I’m already trying to do something for his mom, but before I leave them, I want to do whatever I can. Even if Hell leaves Andrea alone, we don’t know how things will turn out. Even if Seth decides he never wants to see me again, I still care about them. And there are still things they need.”
“Indeed. That pony collection isn’t nearly complete,” Carter mused. When I dared a look back at him, I saw that the angel was smiling at me. “You see? You aren’t lost. No matter what happens to you, you have a plan. There’s still hope.”
“You told me that once . . . that no matter what happens, there’s always hope. Do you really still believe that?” I asked.
Carter topped off all of our wineglasses. “I’m an angel, Georgina. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”
“And even though you’re counseling contingency plans, you still think I can pull it all off, don’t you?” I pushed. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“At this point?” he admitted. “Nothing more than you do. The only difference is that I think I have more faith in you than you do.”
“You’re an angel,” I pointed out, throwing his words back at him. “Don’t you have to have faith in everyone?”
“You’d be surprised.” He chuckled. “I have faith in some more than others. And you? I’ve always been one of your biggest fans. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”
“Here, here,” said Roman, raising his glass. “To faith and a new year.”
I clinked glasses with them and caught Carter’s eye. He winked. Was it enough? His faith? I’d noted before that having him pull for the Mortensens was a powerful thing. Having an angel say he believed in you was equally monumental. But I wasn’t fighting an ordinary adversary. I was fighting Hell, the only force that could stand against Heaven.
I’ve always been one of your biggest fans.
I would find out soon if it was enough. For now, I drank up and tried to have hope.
Chapter 17
In spite of my sorrow over Seth, I was still ready for a storm. It hadn’t really registered at the time, but when I woke up on New Year’s Day with a wine-induced headache, I accepted the startling truth: I was challenging Hell.
Who did that? No one, that’s who. My friends had hinted as much, and I certainly had plenty of myths and pop culture to enlighten me about the futile human dream of thwarting Hell’s will. I had my own experience to go on too. I’d signed away my soul for all eternity. There wasn’t much wiggle room with that. And yet, in spite of all the things I’d seen and all the people Hell had crushed, here I was, daring to say Hell had no claim on either my soul or Seth’s.
I expected to hear about it immediately. I expected a huge uproar, perhaps in the form of Jerome showing up in my condo in all his brimstone glory, threatening me for my impertinence. At the very least, I expected a letter of acknowledgment from Hell, something along the lines of, Thank you very much for your inquiry. We will respond to you within 4–6 weeks.
Nothing. New Year’s Day passed quietly. So did the next. I continued my pattern of packing and making Las Vegas preparations, all the while holding my breath for The Next Big Thing.
I thought something would surely happen a week later, when the long-awaited bowling tournament came around. Jerome and Nanette had flipped for it, and he’d won, meaning we got to hold the match here in Seattle. It saved us from making a trip to Portland, but for the sake of fairness, Nanette got to pick the bowling alley. Rather than our dive at Burt’s, she chose a more upscale place, not far from the mall I’d worked at.
I hadn’t seen Jerome since I’d filed the petition and was ready now to face his wrath. I didn’t know if Nanette’s lesser immortals would know about the request, but I felt certain she would by now. She and Jerome might be rivals of sorts, but at the end of the day, they were both committed to Hell winning. I was trying to thwart that and wouldn’t have been surprised to find her sharing in Jerome’s outrage.
“Good luck,” Roman told me, as I prepared to leave the condo. “Remember to watch your footing.”
I sighed. “I wish you were coming with me.”
He offered me a small smile. “Me too. All that work, and I won’t even get to see my students’ final exam.”
Roman could hide his nephilim signature from greater immortals, but considering the way his kind were hunted, we’d decided it would be best if he steered clear of Nanette while she was in town. Jerome’s agreement to let Roman stay was both highly unusual and dangerous. If another archdemon discovered the truth, both Roman and Jerome would be in a lot of trouble.
“I’m afraid of what I’ll face from Jerome,” I said.
“Don’t be.” Roman came forward and rested
his hand on my shoulder. “You’re not doing anything wrong. They did. You’re strong, Georgina. Stronger than them, stronger than Hell.”
I leaned my head against him. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“Because Carter’s not your only fan.” When I looked back up, I saw Roman’s green eyes were deadly serious. “You’re a remarkable woman, just by your own nature. Smart. Funny. Compassionate. But what’s really great is that you’re so easy to underestimate. I did when we first met, you know. And Hell is now. No matter what their reaction to your appeal is, I guarantee most of them doubt you have a chance. You’re going to prove them wrong. You’re going to break the unbreakable. And I’ll be there helping you, as much as I can.”
“You’ve done enough,” I told him. “More than enough. More than I could have ever asked. Now you get to sit back and let me do . . . well, whatever I have to do now.”
“Georgina, there’s something you need to know. . . .” His face grew troubled.
“What?” I asked. “Oh God. You haven’t heard something from Jerome that I haven’t, have you?”
“I—” He bit his lip as he paused, then shook his head. His features smoothed out. “Forget it. I’m just going to worry you over nothing. You focus on bowling tonight, okay? Show those Portlandians that . . . fuck, I don’t know. That you’re a force to be reckoned with in the bowling alley.”
I laughed and gave him a quick hug. “I’ll see what I can do. How about we talk when I get back, okay? We’ll grab a drink.” I knew there was something big here he wasn’t telling me, no matter how easily he’d tried to brush it off.
“I’d like that. Good luck.”
When I arrived at the bowling alley, Peter nearly sank in relief when he saw me. I think he’d been afraid I’d show up without my Unholy Rollers shirt. Through whatever means Hell possessed, all the other patrons in the alley were playing on one side. The other half was empty, save for two lanes occupied by my colleagues. I was the last to arrive and approached with trepidation, unsure of my welcome.
Jerome was sprawled comfortably in a chair, and while it was in better shape than the ones at Burt’s, I’m not really sure it deserved the thronelike airs he was putting on. Nanette sat across from him, looking equally regal. Her pale blond hair was rolled into an elegant coif, giving her kind of a Grace Kelly look. Her dress was a pale blue shift with a fuzzy gray cardigan over it, the innocence of the look clashing with the unnecessary vampish sunglasses she was wearing.
“Ah, Georgie,” said Jerome. “Right on time and in team colors.” He favored Nanette with a lazy smile. “Ready for some humility?”
“Yours?” she asked him. “Always.”
Neither gave me much more attention than was due for the last person to fill a team spot. No mention of the contract, no mention of my petition. Glancing around and taking in the full roster here, I saw that Mei had also come to watch the spectacle. The demoness was dressed in corporate black, matching her bluntly cut black hair and heavy eyeliner. Only her red lips provided color to the palette. She most certainly knew about my situation, but like her superiors, she barely glanced my way.
Carter was there, which I had not expected. Nanette and her cronies were clearly uneasy about this. Although all greater immortals, be they angels or demons, shared a certain world weariness with immortality and the Great Game, few were able to bond over it so well as Carter and Jerome. Their relationship was unique, and Nanette clearly felt no camaraderie with the angel. Whereas I received little of her attention simply because I was an underling, Carter she ignored as though he didn’t even exist.
He gave me a small smile as I sat down, his gray eyes full of amusement. He was sitting with my friends, perfectly at ease, while Nanette’s bowling team regarded him warily. I hoped maybe his presence would throw off their game. There were four of them, just like us, though they’d actually drafted Nanette’s lieutenant demon, Malachi, to play for them. Rounding them out were a succubus named Tiara, an imp named Roger, and a vampire named V.
“What’s the V stand for?” I asked.
He just stared at me, face blank.
They were an impressive-looking bunch, with deep red bowling shirts and sparkling black embroidery that read DEVIL MAY CARE on the back.
“That’s not even a real team name,” Peter whispered to me disapprovingly. “And those sparkles are just tacky.”
Like ours, their shirts were standard button-ups with their names on the front. Only Malachi’s was different, with a small designation declaring him Captain. I guess he needed to make sure his status was asserted over that of the lesser immortals. There was something lean and sinister about them, and in our baby blues, I felt downright cute and cuddly.
A waitress came by with drinks, and once Jerome had a glass of scotch in hand, he deemed proceedings fit to start. There was a part of me that wouldn’t have minded a gimlet or two, but I didn’t think alcohol was the best call just now. It had nothing to do with team solidarity or messing up my game. When surrounded by unknown and possibly untrustworthy immortals, it was always a good idea to keep your wits about you. And when you were possibly on Hell’s radar for dissension, it was an excellent idea.
In my usual lucky way, I ended up having to go first. With all my worries about Seth and the contracts, my mind wasn’t exactly focused on all of Roman’s good instructions, but I nonetheless did my best to recall his training. I ended up hitting seven and then two pins. Not the greatest, but certainly not the worst. My teammates cheered me voraciously, both because Peter had sent us all a lengthy e-mail earlier in the day about “pep” and because with our track record, nine wasn’t that bad.
Tiara went after me, and as she retrieved her ball, Cody whispered to me how she’d gotten in a fight with management earlier because she’d wanted to wear stilettos on the lanes. She’d apparently conceded to wear proper bowling shoes in the end, but unless there’d been a significant trend change in the industry, she’d ended up using her shape-shifting powers to make the shoes more to her liking. They were gold and encrusted with jewels.
Yet those weren’t the worst part of her attire. That came in the form of her Devil May Care shirt, which I was pretty sure had shrunk about three sizes since I arrived. The buttons that were still actually fastened looked like they were about to burst. I winced as all that cleavage walked past me, and I wanted to cover my eyes when she reached the lane and bent over unnecessarily far, in order to give everyone a solid view of her ass. Her jeans were nearly as tight as the shirt.
“That is not a regulation stance,” declared Peter. He studied her critically for a few moments. “I believe she’s trying to distract us.”
I scoffed. “Oh, you think?”
“Hey!” Peter elbowed Cody and Hugh who—judging by their gaping mouths—were not catching on to Tiara’s ruse as easily as the rest of us. “Focus. Remember what you’re playing for: Jerome’s good will.”
“Nothing wrong with looking,” said Hugh. “Besides, there’s no way she can hit anything with that—”
His words cut off as Tiara threw. Her ball blasted into the pins and knocked all ten over. With a little smirk and a lot of hip swaying, she strutted back proudly to her seat.
“Shit,” said Hugh.
“Ready to focus yet?” asked Peter.
The imp shook his head, still in awe. “I don’t think it’s going to matter, not if they all bowl like that.”
“They can’t all bowl like that,” countered Cody. But he didn’t sound so sure.
Noticing our consternation, Tiara favored us all with a glossy-lipped smile. “We can call it quits right now if you want. We can go back to my hotel and have a party.” She tossed her highlighted curls over one shoulder, and her gaze rested on me. “I can also give you some styling advice if you want.”
“Oh my God,” I muttered. “This is why I hate other succubi.” I could almost give Hell credit for finding me the only appealing one in Vegas, even if it had been part of a more elaborate scheme.
V proved to be the most startling of the bowlers. Whenever his turn came, he walked up unhesitatingly, didn’t even pause or aim, and threw strikes every time. Every time. He also never spoke a single world.
“How is he doing that?” exclaimed Cody. He glanced at Carter, who was watching everything with quiet amusement. “Is he using some kind of power?”
“No illicit ones,” said Carter. “Just his own God-given . . . er, Hell-given abilities.”
I hadn’t really been worried about the other team cheating or Nanette helping them. I knew Jerome would keep her in check, and Carter’s angelic presence was kind of a safeguard against dishonest activity. But his words struck something within me.
“Of course,” I murmured. “He’s just using what he’s got: enhanced reflexes and senses. He’s a vampire. He’s physically better at everything.” No wonder it didn’t seem like he needed to aim. He probably was; he was just doing it really, really fast. I turned to Cody and Peter. “How come you guys can’t do that?”
Silence met me.
“Cody’s our best player,” pointed out Hugh.
“True,” I admitted. Cody had learned very quickly, and I supposed the difference in his and V’s abilities made sense simply because V had been playing a lot longer. “But how do you explain Peter?”
Nobody had an answer for that, least of all Peter.
Cody actually seemed to draw inspiration from V and the realization that being a vampire should provide some natural ability. Cody’s already solid performance soon improved, and I wished Roman could see him. Still, it wasn’t enough to save us in that first game. We lost pretty terribly. Since Jerome and Nanette had agreed to “best of three,” this meant we had two more chances for redemption. I had mixed feelings about this. Jerome’s face was growing stormier, so there was some comfort in thinking we might be able to head off his wrath.
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