"Seth—"

  "Georgina," he interrupted. "It won't be much different than this. More sitting around, except with—"

  "Better company?"

  "That's not what I mean," he said.

  We went back and forth, and as we did, I wondered when we'd reached this point in our relationship. Hitherto everything had been giddy and sentimental with us. How had we crossed the line into nagging? When had we started getting on each other's nerves? In movies, life-threatening experiences are supposed to bring people together.

  I finally relented, and we went over to Peter and Cody's place. The gang—consisting of Hugh, Peter, Cody, and Carter tonight—was surprised to see us since Seth often avoided immortal social events. But socially inept or no, Seth liked playing cards. It was the kind of analytical activity he enjoyed, and he could often get by without talking very much.

  Just before the game started, Niphon showed up. He and I exchanged brief glares and then proceeded to ignore each other.

  Inevitably, Seth getting shot came up in conversation.

  "You threw yourself in front of a gun for her?" asked Peter, clearly impressed.

  "Well," said Seth, a little uncomfortable at all those eyes on him. "Mostly I tried to jostle it away."

  "You mean, disarm him?"

  "Well…no. More like…jostle. I don't really know how to ‘disarm' anyone."

  "I figured maybe you took combat classes in order to write those fight scenes in your books," explained Peter.

  Seth shook his head. "Never been in a fight in my life. Until last night."

  "That's awesome," said Cody. "Risking your life in the name of love."

  I stared at the vampires disbelievingly while they babbled on about how amazing Seth's feat had been. They peppered him with more questions about the attack, and the anger I'd been trying to squelch since last night kept building and building. Across the table, Niphon listened with a smirk. Carter, in his usual way, concealed his feelings. I wanted to know why he wasn't out with the other angels, but the Seth thing was taking precedence over my curiosity.

  One thing struck me as odd. Hugh, listening quietly, seemed as angry as I did. I would have expected him to jump right in with the vampires, blithely pestering Seth for action-packed details and waxing on about how cool Seth's heroics had been. But the imp's face looked dark and stony, his eyes fixed pointedly on his cards.

  "The guy was probably high," remarked Peter. "Never know what that might bring out. You jumping in like that was pretty ballsy when you think about it."

  I couldn't take it anymore.

  "It was stupid!" I cried. Everyone's heads jerked in my direction. I ignored them, my eyes on Seth. "It was foolish and idiotic and, and—" I couldn't think of any more synonyms, so I let it go. "You shouldn't have done it. He couldn't have hurt me. He couldn't have killed me. You should have let me handle it!"

  I knew that Seth despised being the center of a commotion like this, but he returned my gaze with a surprisingly fierce one.

  "Georgina, there was a man with a gun in a dark alley. You were in front of him. Do you really think I was running through all sorts of logical scenarios at the time? ‘Oh, let's see. She's immortal, so even if she gets shot, there's nothing to worry about.'"

  "Yes," I growled. "That is what you should have been thinking."

  "What I was thinking was ‘The woman I love is in danger, and I would rather die myself than see anything happen to her.'"

  "But nothing would have happened to me!"

  "It's a basic human instinct to protect the ones you love. Even if they're immortal."

  "That doesn't make any sense."

  "That's because it's been too long since you were human," he snapped.

  It was like being hit. I shot up from my chair and stalked off to the bathroom. Angry tears were welling up in my eyes, and I refused to let them show in front of my friends. Leaning my forehead against the mirror, I tried to do all the standard tricks for calming down. Deep breathing. Counting to ten. None of it worked.

  I didn't get it. I just didn't get it. And apparently, Seth didn't either. Why couldn't he understand? Getting shot—in my head, in my heart, whatever—would fucking hurt. The pain would be excruciating. But in a day or so, I'd recover. I'd go on.

  But Seth wouldn't. Why did he not see how serious this was? Death was forever. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to block out the image of Seth dead. Cold. Still. No more spark in those brown eyes. No more warm hand to hold mine. A sob built up in me, and I forced it away.

  After more deep breathing, I finally felt like I could return to the others. But as I stepped out of the bathroom and started to round the corner back to the kitchen, I heard more shouting. Hugh.

  "It was brave, okay? Noble. Gallant. Worthy of a gold star. But she's right. It was stupid. It was so fucking stupid, and you're even more fucking stupid for not realizing it."

  "I get it," said Seth. I could hear the weariness and exasperation in his voice. "I could have died. I know, okay? But I wasn't thinking about the larger workings of the universe. I was thinking about her."

  "No," said Hugh. "You weren't. I am so goddamned tired of hearing everyone talk about how hard it is to be you. They all go on and on about how amazing it is that you can handle this relationship with her. But, Christ. Really, what's hard about it? You have this beautiful, brilliant girlfriend who doesn't fucking age. She loves you. I know you can't have sex, and everyone acts like that's the end of the world, but come on. She's given you the green light to go get it somewhere else. I don't really see you suffering that much."

  "What's your point?" asked Seth.

  "My point is that she's the one who suffers. She knows your life is a ticking time bomb. What have you got, another fifty years maybe? And that's if disease or an accident doesn't take you first. Fifty years, and you're gone. She has to live with that every day, knowing that in one breath, your life could be snuffed out like that." I heard Hugh's fingers snap. "Not hurt. Not injured. Gone. She is going to watch you age, watch you gray and wither away, and when you do finally die, it's going to destroy her."

  There was a moment's silence, then I heard Seth say uncertainly, "Fifty years isn't anything compared to the scope of her life. She'll get over me. As everyone keeps reminding me, she's immortal."

  "All that means is that she has more time to mourn. If you had any fucking regard for her, you would have ended this stupid romance a long time ago. You would have never gotten involved. She was uncertain at first, but now she's in. She isn't going to give you up. You could turn into the world's biggest asshole, and she still wouldn't do it—not with all these romantic ideals she has now. She loves too easily—and gets hurt too easily."

  I finally forced myself to move in the ensuing silence. Everyone looked away from me, except Niphon. He was obviously enjoying all of this. I sat back down, and the card game commenced. None of us were really into it, though. The atmosphere was stiff, the conversation forced and halting. It was the proverbial elephant in the room situation. When Peter awkwardly said he was getting tired, the rest of us practically flew out of our seats to leave.

  As I was putting on my coat, Carter strolled over to me.

  "Seth makes his own choices, as is his right," Carter said softly. The angel was regarding me in that way that always sent chills down my spine. Someone wearing such an ugly baseball cap really shouldn't have that kind of ability. Honestly, how did his hats always get so dirty? "You can rage all you want, but in the end, mortals live their lives the way they decide to. It's not our place to interfere with that."

  "Of course it is," I said. "It's what you guys do. It's what we all do. That's the whole point of the Heaven and Hell battle—we purposely interfere with people's lives."

  "Yes, but this is different."

  "No, it's not." Beyond him, I saw Niphon saying something to Seth. Great. The imp was probably trying to buy his soul. That was so not what I needed right now. I turned back to Carter. "Look, I've got to go. Say hi to the Get Along Gang when you see them."

  I dragged Seth away from Niphon, and we headed home. I hadn't thought things between us could be any more uncomfortable than they had been at Peter's, but the car ride proved me wrong. Earlier, Seth and I had discussed him staying over at my place, but as I merged onto I-5, he asked, "I'd kind of like to get some more work done. Do you mind if I just go home?"

  The elephant had apparently joined us in the car now. I smiled tightly and kept my eyes on the road. "Sure. No problem."

  CHAPTER 16

  As I walked into my building after dropping Seth off, I was surprised to see the guy who staffed the front desk still working. He usually went home at dinnertime. A sheaf of papers in his hands indicated some sort of mandatory overtime. He brightened when he saw me.

  "Miss Kincaid! I have something for you."

  I blanked for a moment, then remembered the daily Post-it reminders on my door. There'd been a total of three now. "Oh, yeah," I said. "Sorry I haven't had a chance to pick it up yet. I keep forgetting."

  He was already rustling around for something behind him on the other side of the window. I strolled over, just as he heaved a huge box up onto the counter. The printing on the side was upside down, but I could still make it out: Christmas Tree—Austrian Fir.

  "Oh, man," I grumbled. "This is somebody's idea of a—"

  But the guy was busy hauling another box up to the counter, a smaller one with pictures on the side depicting the ‘pre-decorated fiber optic tree' inside. It was followed by another box, a bit smaller than the Austrian Fir, and a smaller one still that was about two-by-two feet. These last two boxes were wrapped in glittery green paper, with a wrapping job so perfect that only one being on earth could have managed it: Peter.

  The desk guy surveyed the boxes. "You must really like Christmas."

  "I thought each of those notes was a reminder for the same package."

  "Nope. New one each day. Want some help?"

  We hauled the trees up to my apartment and deposited them on the living room floor. I thanked him, and as soon as he left, Aubrey emerged and began stalking the boxes.

  "That's a lot of tannenbaum," a voice behind me suddenly said.

  I jumped and turned around. Yasmine. "Don't do that. Carter does exactly the same thing."

  "Sorry," she said, looking sheepish. "Wasn't intentional. I just got here." She walked over to the boxes, tilting her head to read them. She wore jeans and an LSU sweatshirt, her black hair pulled into the trademark ponytail that made her look seventeen. "What's up with all these?"

  I took off my coat and flounced onto the couch with a sigh. "My friend Peter started this whole buzz that I needed a Christmas tree after Carter burned mine down. So I guess everyone made good on it."

  "Wait," she said. "Did you say Carter burned down your Christmas tree?"

  "Yeah, it's a long story."

  "He must feel bad."

  She pointed to the little fiber optic tree, the one that was already decorated. Words were scrawled on the side of the box in spidery, nearly illegible writing:

  G—

  Figured you could handle this one. Ready and decorated!

  —C

  P.S.—And flame retardant.

  "Hmm," I mused. "‘C' could be Cody too."

  "Nah. I recognize the poor attempt at penmanship. It's Carter."

  "Okay, so the angel repents. But who are the rest from?"

  We soon found out. The wrapping job on the two matching boxes had already given Peter away. The larger box contained a very beautiful, very expensive tree with ‘winter moss green' needles that were lightly dusted with silver glitter. The smaller box contained a matched set of lights and ornaments all done in purple and fuchsia. Peter apparently hadn't trusted me to decorate his gift myself.

  The Austrian Fir turned out to be from the bookstore staff. A card from Maddie read: Surprise! We all pitched in for it. Now you can't be a Scrooge. It was signed by other store workers, as well as Seth.

  I looked back and forth between the boxes. "It's a Christmas miracle. I had no tree. Now I have a forest."

  "C'mon," said Yasmine. "I'll help you set them up."

  I looked at her in surprise. "Aren't you here to meet up with Vince or something?"

  She shook her head. "I'm here to talk to you."

  Uh-oh.

  I didn't really want to set up the Christmas trees, but a being vastly more powerful than me did, so I set to it. Carter's tree was the easiest since all I had to do was plug it in. I placed it in a window sill, one with an outlet right underneath. The tree's fiber optic needles lit up to pale pink, then purple, then teal, then white.

  "Good God," I said. "It's the Christmas tree equivalent of a lava lamp."

  "I like it," declared Yasmine. "It's got moxie." She looked really excited. She could have been a kid on Christmas morning. You'd think after seeing so many Christmases (and trees) in her existence, they'd get kind of old. She pointed at Peter's tree. "Let's do the prissy one now."

  We were stringing purple lights on the ‘winter moss green' tree when she finally started The Talk.

  "So. Vincent told me what happened." She paused as she looped the lights over a branch. "I'm glad your guy is okay."

  "Me too. He was lucky…if Vincent hadn't been there…"

  More silence. I didn't entirely know where Yasmine was going with this. My guess was that she was concerned I'd tell someone about Vincent. I felt absolutely certain, however, that she wasn't going to threaten to break my kneecaps or anything to keep me silent. In fact, I realized then that what she wanted was reassurance. It was a crazy and startling idea. She was an angel, after all. A being of hope and peace, a being that others prayed to for comfort. Yet, here she was, seeking it from me—a creature of Hell.

  "I meant it," I told her. "What I said to him. I'm not going to tell anyone."

  "I believe you," she said, confusion all over her face. Angels knew when others were telling the truth. "But I don't understand it. Why? Why wouldn't you? You could get into big trouble if your superiors—if Jerome—found out you knew and weren't telling." Vincent had said the same thing. It was true. "Your people tend to get pissed off over stuff like that."

  "What, and yours don't? Would they be forgiving if they found out?"

  She looked away from me, diverting her attention to hanging a pink glass dove.

  "Look," I said. "I work for Hell, but I don't, like, delight in others' suffering. Especially since I like both of you. I don't want to see you get into trouble. I don't even think what you're doing is wrong. Dangerous, maybe, but not wrong."

  "Which part? The loving part or the nephilim part?"

  I shrugged. "It's all risky."

  She smiled at me. "You talk about nephilim pretty calmly. Most people—in our circles—go running for the hills."

  "I met one once. Dated him." I hung a bejeweled purple orb on the tree. "He was scary as hell, yeah. Had this whole homicidal revenge thing going on, which kind of negated his sexiness a little. But at the end of the day…I don't know. He wasn't much of a monster. He couldn't help being born what he was."

  I was glad to be free of Roman, glad he was somewhere far away from me. He'd posed too much of a threat to both me and those I loved. Still, there had been something in him I found appealing. It was why we'd connected before things literally blew up. I understood his weariness with the games Heaven and Hell played. He'd offered to take me away and free me from it all, and there were days I would still wake up and long for that.

  "No," Yasmine agreed. "They can't help what they are. And it's not their fault. But their existence is a reminder of our faults…of our weaknesses." She held her hands open in front of her, studying them as though they held answers. "None of us higher immortals want to be shown that we're weak. That's our hubris, I guess. Especially the angels. No one's perfect, but we like to play that we are." She sighed and let her hands drop. "I should walk away from this. I should have a long time ago."

  I jerked my head up. "But you love him."

  "Sometimes loving someone means you have to do what's ultimately good. What you need instead of what you want."

  "I suppose. But ending it seems so extreme. There must be a way to…I don't know, have it all."

  The door opened, and Vincent walked in. He didn't look surprised to see either of us, but then, he would have sensed our auras. His eyes met Yasmine's, and it was like lightning crackling through the room. Both of them lit up, shining in a way that I doubted my succubus glamour could even begin to compete with.

  He expressed surprise over my Yuletide Forest but jumped in to help us, appearing just as excited as Yasmine over the activity. The two of them never touched, but I noticed the same thing that I had at breakfast: an intimacy in the way they interacted with each other. They didn't need to touch. Their relationship was obvious, and I wondered how it was possible none of the other angels had ever noticed this. Maybe it was like what Yasmine had mentioned about angels and hubris. Maybe angels always assumed they were perfect and were too blind to see flaws in each other, whereas someone like me—who exploited weakness—knew what to look for.

  We finished Peter's tree, and then I found my ornaments from last year—the ones that hadn't been destroyed in the fire—and used them on the bookstore's tree. When my woodland paradise was finally complete, Yasmine and Vincent made their farewells and left. I still had no idea what their divine mission in Seattle was, but I assumed it had universal consequences. I felt a little weird that it had been put on hold to decorate my home.

  As I cleaned up the boxes, I kept thinking about what Yasmine had said about needing versus wanting. In some ways, that was what Seth and I did. We wanted to have sex. We needed to avoid it.

  I also found myself recalling Andrew again, that annoyingly good priest who'd caused me so many headaches. I hadn't thought much about his story since last week, but as my body mindlessly completed chores, the images began replaying in my mind.

  Despite my best efforts, he'd remained a bastion of purity and willpower. While frustrating, it nonetheless continued to make the game fun. And although I didn't appreciate it as much back then as I did now, I sort of took pleasure in just hanging around him. He was good company, and he came to mean more to me than just a sexual conquest. It was obvious he cared about me too.