"Because it's the right thing to do."

"I don't know where you've been since the beginning of the universe, but the 'right thing' isn't really on my list of priorities."

"He's poisoning mortals."

Jerome crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't care."

"He's doing it in your territory. Right under your nose."

"Stop trying to bait me. He's not involved with us. He can do whatever the fuck he wants to mortals."

Once again, I was dying to jump in but restrained myself. Listening to Carter and Jerome argue always unsettled me. Mostly, it just didn't happen that much. Usually they stood together in an exasperating wall of solidarity, good and evil notwithstanding. And, of course, watching them argue always made you wonder if something terrible might happen if tempers got out of control. Tables tipping over. Glasses exploding. The Four Horsemen showing up.

Nonetheless, I felt confident Carter wouldn't let this matter go unattended. He would win. As I had noted earlier, I didn't know if I could trust him, but I did respect him—and his powers of persuasion.

"It's a power play," warned Carter. "He shouldn't even be trying it. His time is past; we're the ones who control the game now. Doing this insults us—especially you, since you guys are the ones who actually draw territorial lines. It's an unannounced challenge."

This, I saw, had an effect on the demon. He recognized Carter's attempts to draw him in, but it was working nonetheless. Pride wasn't one of the Seven Deadly Sins for nothing. Jerome, as a faithful servant of hell, couldn't help but be susceptible. I'd seen his pride come into play before; he didn't like others messing with his reputation. And while the demon naturally had many weaknesses, I'd say it was this more than anything else that would make him take action.

"We can't intervene," he said flatly. "You know that. Even if we are in control, we'd start an outright war. I for one don't want to deal with the repercussions of that."

"Agreed," murmured the angel, lapsing into silence again.

I looked back and forth between their faces, waiting for one of them to offer a brilliant plan. A brilliant plan which involved the angel and demon fighting in awesome, smiting glory to destroy Alec and his bastardly supplier friend.

"Georgina could do it," said Carter suddenly.

"What?" I squeaked. That wasn't how the fantasy went. They turned their eyes on me.

Dark outrage flashed in Jerome's eyes, then it faded as quickly as it had arrived. "Hmm. Perhaps."

"What are you guys talking about? I'm not doing any smiting."

"It wouldn't exactly be smiting," said Carter, face promptly sobering. "But it could be dangerous if not done the right way. "

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you, Georgie, are a lesser power than we are. You are less subject to scrutiny and ramifications than us. It's the difference between a country declaring war and a small rebel faction striking out."

"Great," I said, sinking back in my chair. "I'm a faction."

Carter was smiling again. "Don't you want to help Doug?"

A moment passed. "You know I do."

"I meant it when I said it'd be dangerous, but if we're careful, you'll come out okay."

I thought about Doug's black despair and reckless behavior. The thought of this ambrosia "destroying" him clinched it for me. "Yeah, okay. I'll do it. Whatever it is. Dangerous or not." I paused. "Um, what is it?"

Neither answered.

"Oh come on! You can't expect me to do this and not know what it is."

"It'll take some prep work," Carter told me, apparently enjoying my consternation. But there was another expression on his face too…pride, I thought. The good kind of pride, like when you thought someone was doing the right thing. Not the bad kind of pride that made you do rash things. "As soon as it's in place, we'll let you know. I'll come find you."

I made a face. "You'll understand if I don't really find that a satisfying answer. "

"And you'll understand," retorted Jerome, "that it's the best one you're going to get."

Carter was a bit nicer. "What you can do in the meantime, however, is try to get access to the supplier. He's the one you'll ultimately have to deal with. Keep schmoozing with Alec. Do what you've got to do."

I nodded. Schmoozing I could do in my sleep. I felt relieved to be back in familiar waters.

After leaving them, I put the ambrosia assignment on hold and went over to Seth's to play Scrabble, in keeping with a prearranged date. I'd vowed I wouldn't cheat this time, but I supposed that would depend on how desperate the game became. When I arrived, however, I found Seth in no condition to play.

He sat at the desk in his bedroom, brow adorably furrowed as he stared at his computer screen, apparently willing it do something for him through mental determination alone. His condo had an office, I knew, but unpacked boxes currently filled it, making this room the combination office-bedroom. All his essentials in one place. If it had had an attached bathroom, he would have probably never emerged.

"Can you give me…like…another hour?" he asked absently when he realized I had walked in, not looking at me. "I've just got to finish this chapter."

It was a moot request. Even if I hadn't been willing to give him another hour, he still would have kept writing. Mountains moved more easily than Seth in the middle of a story line. Happily accommodating, I kissed his cheek and wandered off to the office to find something to read. Sifting through those boxes made it difficult, however. By the time I had several of them emptied, I decided I might as well just go the whole way and do the job right.

I unpacked all of the boxes—even the ones in his living room. I didn't know how many books that left me with, but it was a lot. My bookstore instincts made me sort them into categories, and that alone was time-consuming. Looking up at one point, I realized almost three hours had passed. I stood up, stretched, and returned to the bedroom.

"Hey," I said. "We're way past your hour."

He kept typing.

I slipped my foot out of its sandal, shape-shifted the toenail color to burgundy and ran it up his leg. He jumped.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself. Sorry to interrupt, but you need food, or you're going to pass out on your keyboard."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he said. His eyes strayed, threatening to return to the computer, so I poked him again with my foot. He arched an eyebrow, then grabbed my foot, nearly making me fall over as he pulled me onto his lap. "You know, your toes aren't that compelling. It's not like I want to have sex with them or anything weird like that. I just think they're pretty. So don't think you can have your way on everything now. "

I wiggled out of his grasp. "Say whatever you want. I've got new leverage with you. So, look, can you tear yourself away long enough to go get food?"

It turned out he couldn't, toes or not. Disappointed, I ended up ordering pizza. We ate together and talked, but both of us were in our own worlds. He was with his characters in places I couldn't follow, and I was thinking about the ambrosia. Suddenly, I started laughing.

"What?" he asked, startled.

I told him about the ambrosia and what it did. The news obviously astonished him, but Seth had had some time now to accept the many unseen, supernatural things occurring in the world. I ended my story by saying Carter and Jerome were going to do something about it. I did not mention I would be taking on a large and possibly dangerous role too. There I was, holding back again, but it seemed pointless to get him worried when I had no concrete details yet.

"So, anyway, I was laughing because I was trying to imagine what you'd be like on ambrosia," I told him.

"Why is that funny? Maybe I could churn out a book a week."