I wondered what they had needed to consult Carter on but doubted they’d tell me. I was also kind of amazed that I’d been so out of it this week that I hadn’t even known my legal team had been in touch with the angel. No, on second thought, I wasn’t that surprised. My misery had been pretty all-consuming.
“So what do you think our odds are?” I asked.
Carter shook his head. “I can’t answer that.”
“Because it breaks a rule?”
“Because it’s too tempting for me to answer with a joke about a snowball’s chance in Hell.”
I sighed. “That’s not very comforting.”
“You’re awfully grim about this,” said Carter. “I figured there’d be a little more excitement from someone trying to win back their soul.”
“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.