It must have been the latter because Jerome almost smiled when he saw me. “Georgie, out among the living and back to your petite self. Yet…so blue. Blue like always.”
Yes, they’d been drinking. Angels and demons could sober up at will, and he was apparently indulging in the full effects.
“I got some bad news,” I said, sitting opposite them.
“What, about losing Mortensen?” asked Jerome.
“How do you know about that?”
“I talked to Roman. He recapped your day—the old man checking in, you comforting your romantic rival…it was quite moving.”
I scowled. “Great. You have Roman spying on me.”
“It’s not spying. I just demand answers from him. If it makes you feel better, he’s never very happy to give up those answers.”
“How often do you do it?” I asked incredulously.
“Not that often.” A waiter set down a new bottle. “Mostly I wanted to see how you were recovering post-dream.”
“Fine. I’m fine.” I glanced at Carter. “No comments from you today?”
“Leave me out of this,” he replied. “I’m just drinking.” So he said, but he was also watching and listening very carefully. He was not letting the alcohol affect him.
I turned back to Jerome. “I’ve come to call in my favor.”
The dark amusement in his eyes turned to suspicion. “What favor?”
“The one you promised me for helping save you from Grace, remember?”
Yes, no amusement at all anymore. “I just rescued you from another plane of existence from creatures who were torturing your mind.”
I flinched but pushed on with my words. “You promised a favor, and I didn’t call it in for that. Besides, you would have done it anyway so that you wouldn’t get in trouble.”
“That favor offer was brought on by the drama at the time,” he countered. “I probably said all sorts of things.”
“You promised,” I repeated.
“I can understand you just fine without putting italics in your voice, Georgie,” he snapped.
“You did, though,” pointed out Carter. Demons could lie—and did—but certain deals they were bound to. Jerome had said he’d grant me a favor out on the beach, and it had been a true promise.
“Fine,” he said irritably, gesturing for another shot. “What is it you want? And I don’t have to grant it if it’s something totally unreasonable.”
“I want to know—”
“Careful,” interrupted Carter.
I paused, and Jerome glared at the angel. Carter offered no other insight, but those gray eyes were still watchful—and cautious. Which was what I needed to be. Jerome had promised me a favor, and like all demons, he would try to find as many loopholes in it as possible. I had been about to ask where Seth was, but that wouldn’t necessarily do me any good. I wouldn’t be able to get to Seth.
“I want you to send me to Seth so I can spend a few days with him.”
Jerome studied me, expression shrewd. “There’s a couple problems. One is that you’ve kind of asked for two things. The other is that I’m not omniscient. I don’t know where he is.”
“You can find out,” I said. “At least, if he’s flown anywhere, you can find out.”
Seth packing indicated serious travel. Maddie had said his car was still at the house, meaning he hadn’t driven somewhere. If he had, he’d be harder to track. But airports had records, and Hell had its hand in that kind of thing. Jerome could easily get an imp or lesser demon to access Sea-Tac’s records this week and see where Seth had gone. I probably could have asked Hugh to do it, but that wouldn’t have gotten me leave to actually go to Seth, hence my wording.
“And we both know it’d be stupid for you to send me right there and right back. Asking for a few days makes it worthwhile or else it’s a shitty favor.”
“Debatable,” Jerome replied.
“It could be worse,” said Carter. “She didn’t ask for world peace or anything.”
“Stay out of this,” returned the demon. “I know what you want.”
Carter shrugged and ordered another drink.
“Fine,” said Jerome at last. “I’ll have Hugh check travel records. You know there might not be a paper trail.”
“I know. But if you find him?”
“Then you can go to him. For now, go home. You’re ruining my good mood. I’ll find you if there’s news.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. “Soon,” I said. “You have to search soon.”
Jerome’s lips quirked. “You didn’t put that into the wording.”
Carter elbowed him, and I had to take it on faith that Jerome would act in a timely manner. My words had implied that I wanted to be where Seth was now. One could argue that waiting meant Seth would change locations, meaning I couldn’t have what I wanted. I also had to believe that Carter had a point in saying this was a relatively easy favor. I could have demanded more.
Simple or not, it was hard to wait to hear back. Roman was gone when I returned to my condo, and I had nothing to do but ruminate. I’d given myself a leave of absence at work and didn’t regret it. Still, being alone with my thoughts was never a good thing, and I had far too many to trouble me: the Oneroi, Seth, Andrea…
“Okay, Georgie.”
It was four hours later when Jerome appeared in my living room with a pop.
I sagged in relief. “You found him?”
“I did.”
“And you’ll send me to him—for a worthwhile amount of time?”
“Three days,” the demon said. He sounded irritable and impatient. I’d wondered if he’d been drinking this entire time and was angry at the interruption. “I want you back here in seventy-two hours, and you’re on your own as to how you do it. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said eagerly. “Just send me to him.” I had to talk to him. I had to find out exactly what had happened. I had to make sure he was okay.
“And that settles the favor. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I said. There was power in that word, just as there had been in Jerome’s initial promise. I could ask for nothing else.
“Then go,” he said.
I vanished from my living room……and reappeared on a busy sidewalk. People swarmed around me, none of them seeming to notice I’d appeared out of thin air. The sun was on its way down, but the sky was bright and clear—and hot. Very hot. The masses around me were dressed in beach clothes and had the feel of tourists. I stepped out of their path and found myself standing in front of a large, resort-type hotel.
The abrupt change in location—and discomfort of teleportation—had left me disoriented, and I needed to get my bearings. Taking in more of my surroundings, I could hear people speaking in both Spanish and English. I turned to the closest person near me, a short, deeply tanned man in a hotel uniform who was directing taxis around the building’s driveway.
I started to ask where I was and decided that would be a little too stupid sounding. I pointed at the hotel and asked him what its name was. I knew tons of languages perfectly, and Spanish rolled off my lips easily.
“El Grande Mazatlán, señorita,” he replied.
Mazatlán? This time, I did ask a stupid question: “¿Estoy in México?”
He nodded, giving me the are-you-crazy look I’d expected. It was probably made worse by my jaw dropping.
Well, I supposed if you were going to run away, you should run away somewhere warm.
Chapter 22
I wandered into the hotel, still a bit stunned by the situation I found myself in. Seth was…in Mexico. Presuming Jerome was holding true to his bargain, of course. I had to believe he was, but the question was if he’d actually sent me near Seth. That was a wording in my request that could be blurred a little. Glancing up at the hotel, I hoped Jerome’s minions had gone as far as to search local hotels for Seth’s name when they tracked the plane ticket. With a quick smile to the man who’d helped me, I headed toward the hotel’s entrance.