The next week was one of the longest in my life. Every moment that passed was a moment without Seth and another reminder that I'd lost my one great love.

Even if I hadn't quit as Santa's helper, that job would've been done now anyway, so my days were made even longer by their emptiness. Hugh was over a lot that week, and sometimes he and Roman tried to cheer me up or at least distract me. Mostly, they were holed up together, working on my appeal to Hell. They occasionally consulted me on it, but Hugh had most of the info he needed and simply had to put it all together in the appropriate manner. The two of them discussed other things too, mostly having to do with Hell's legal system in general. I didn't entirely understand why, but Roman was very adamant about learning every detail of it. It was like he was trying to pass the bar exam or something.

I tried to preoccupy myself with packing for Las Vegas. Even with my appeal, I couldn't count on anything changing with my current Hellish status. So, I had to go forward with life as though Vegas were definitely in my future. Packing was mindless enough, however, that it didn't distract me so much as just provide more time for me to ruminate and agonize over being apart from Seth.

Packing also had its own pitfalls because I kept running into things that reminded me of him. The worst was when I unearthed a box of keepsakes collected from over the centuries. The most recent addition was a ring Seth had given me last Christmas, just before we broke up. It was a modern twist on a Byzantine wedding ring, decorated with dolphins and sapphires. Even when we'd gotten back together, I'd left it in the box. Little did he know that I also had - in the same box - my actual wedding ring from the fifth century. It was worn with age but hadn't entirely lost its gleam. Looking at them both gave me a weird moment of disorientation as I tried to grasp the idea that they'd technically been given to me by the same person.

During that week, I also received a fair amount of e-mail from the Las Vegas crew. Phoebe, Bastien, Luis, and even Matthias had stayed in touch since my visit, and all seemed to have increased their excitement over my pending move. Messages I would have found so witty and touching a week ago now left a bad taste in my mouth, now that I knew the truth about the transfer. Luis was simply helping to orchestrate Hell's grand plan to keep me and Seth apart, and I didn't trust a single word he said. Still, he was a demon, and one could expect a certain amount of insincerity from him. Phoebe and especially Bastien hurt more because they were operating under the pretense of friendship. I didn't doubt Bastien was still my friend, but everything he sent me seemed forced, since it was coming from the orders of those above him.

Matthias was kind of a mystery. I didn't know what role he played here, if he was just a convenient mortal they'd found to take me on or if he was in league with Hell. Many humans knowingly were, in the hopes of grandiose rewards someday. For all I knew, he could be an innocent in all this, just an ordinary guy who thought he'd lucked out in finding a dancer. Without being able to say for sure, I took no joy in his e-mails either.

Notably missing from the Las Vegas gang's correspondence was Jamie. I'd received no friendly "Can't wait to see you!" messages at all from him, something I suspected was also a direct result of Hell's orders. They wouldn't want to risk the topic of Milton again. When I mentioned this to Roman and Hugh, they told me it would be surprising if Jamie was even still in Las Vegas. If Hell saw him as a liability that might inadvertently expose the double-contract snafu, Hugh felt the odds were good they'd simply removed him to prevent me from finding him. If so, I hoped it was simply a matter of a transfer and that the imp hadn't been punished for drunkenly revealing information he didn't realize was dangerous.

On New Year's Eve, Hugh and Roman told me my petition was finished. They presented it to me, a staggeringly huge stack of paper filled with legalese, and showed me where to sign. There was an air of both gravity and pride around them, like they'd just created a painstakingly crafted work of art. Considering how rare this type of event was, perhaps that wasn't such a bad assessment.

I gave the ream back to Hugh, once I'd signed it about fifteen times. "Now what?" I asked.

"Now I take it to Mei and say you gave it to me to submit to Hell. I also claim ignorance about what this is in regard to, but the fact that it went through me tips her off that there's a witness to it all. Not that she'd probably 'lose it' or anything, but . . . well, with demons, it's best to be cautious."

"Are they really going to believe you're a hapless messenger ?" I asked.

Hugh crooked me a smile and gestured to the paperwork. "Well, they certainly aren't going to believe you did this on your own. But there's no real way to prove my involvement, and anyway, I haven't technically done anything wrong. I'm an imp. I conduct business for Hell. That's what this is."

Too many days of pent-up emotion took hold of me, and I flung my arms around Hugh. "Thank you," I said. "Thank you so much."

It was all kind of awkward since he was trying to juggle the papers, but he still managed to pat me on the back. "It's nothing, sweetie," he said, seeming a bit flustered. "I just hope it actually accomplishes something."

I stepped back and attempted to get myself under control. "How will we know if it does?"

"When you're summoned to Hell," he said.

"Oh." My heart lurched with fear. "I actually . . . actually have to go there?"

Roman leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "How else do you think this is going to get resolved?"

"I'd kind of just hoped they'd send me a letter," I said. "You know, like a college acceptance."

Hugh snorted. "Afraid not. If they respond to it, they'll summon you to Hell and hold a hearing to examine the contract, your complaints, and whatever evidence either side can muster."

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to picture what that hearing would be like. "I've never been to Hell. Have either of you?"

They shook their heads, which wasn't a surprise. Lesser immortals were recruited on Earth, where they then served. We had no reason to visit the realm of our employers, not even an imp like Hugh. Roman, as a nephilim, was on Heaven and Hell's hit list. Walking into Hell would be like showing up in a lion's den and presenting yourself on a platter.

"I always kind of pictured Hell as a cross between waiting in line at the DMV and watching a marathon of Perfect Strangers," remarked Hugh.

Roman shot him a sharp look. "What's wrong with that show?"

Overcome, I hugged Hugh again and then Roman. "Thanks, you guys. I mean it. I owe you . . . more than I can ever pay back."

"Just win," said Roman fiercely. "That's all the payback I need."

Hugh put the papers into his briefcase and slipped on his coat. "I'm going to get these over to Mei now, then head off to a party and drink away the memories of wading through all that legalese."

"You're going to Peter's?" I asked. Unsurprisingly, our vampire friend was holding a shindig to ring in the New Year.

"Nah," said Hugh. "Not much chance of getting laid there. I'm going to a party one of my nurses is hosting."

We wished him a happy new year and bid him farewell. As soon as he was gone, Roman turned to me. "What about you?" he asked. "Are you going to Peter's?"

I knew Peter was counting on it, but it was hard to make myself feel like celebrating. "No. I'm not in the mood. Besides, I'm not sure I want to risk running into Jerome since I'm sure Mei's going to tell him about the appeal. I'll just keep packing."

"Come on," Roman said. "You can't just sit around tonight. It's a new year . . . new opportunities. Maybe even the chance to break free of Hell."

I nodded, though it was still hard for me to imagine what "breaking free" would even look like. It was something we kept talking about, but I really couldn't feel it yet. And even though I'd talked a good talk to Seth about how the integrity of the soul and eternity were so much more important than any earthly concerns, it all seemed lackluster without him in my life. "I know," I told Roman. "But any celebrating I do is going to be forced. If I'm going to be unhappy, I'd rather do it in a place where I feel comfortable."

He glanced at the clock. "Let's at least go out to dinner. Dress up and get a good meal. Then we'll come back and watch all the New Year's shows."

I didn't have much of an appetite but suspected if I said no, Roman would consign himself to the same self-imprisonment as me. I didn't want his night ruined because of me, especially after everything he'd done this week. One problem presented itself.

"It's almost five," I said. "We'll never get in anywhere on such short notice. Unless we want to dress up for Taco Bell. Which I'm actually not averse to."

Roman was already reaching for his cell phone. "I know someone who's a chef at this Italian place in Green Lake. We'll get a table."

Sure enough. One mysterious phone call, and we were on our way an hour later. I hadn't been up for elaborate styling and simply shape-shifted myself into New Year's finery, with an off-the-shoulder satin dress and my hair cascading in perfect waves. Roman had warned me "no black," so the dress was dark purple, which still seemed appropriate for my mood. I paired it with a glittering necklace of white gold and amethysts that had been my Secret Santa gift to myself. I had great taste.

"Have you made any moves to put your condo on the market?" asked Roman as he drove us through the city. "Contacted a real estate agent?"

I gazed out at the bright lights of the downtown skyline. This time of year, darkness came early. "No. I need to. Unless . . ." I glanced over at him. "Do you want to keep staying there? I'll keep it and rent if you want."

He shook his head, a wry smile playing over his lips. "No. It wouldn't be the same without you and those furballs. I'll get another place. Sell it or rent it to someone else."

"Easier to sell," I mused. "Well, in theory. But I'm not concerned with profit, and it saves the hassle of screening and dealing with - " I stopped as a startling thought suddenly came to me. "Hey. Do we have time for a, oh, fifteen-minute stop? Will your friend get rid of our table?"

"Not if I call. Where do you need to go?"

"The U District. Seth's place. Don't worry," I added, seeing his look of alarm. "I'm not going to do anything crazy or lovestruck. I'm not even going to see Seth. Please? Just a quick stop?"

Roman concurred, though his expression said this was against his better judgment. I almost told him his fears were unfounded because I was only going to actually stop if Margaret was home and Seth wasn't. The odds against that possibility seemed slim, particularly with the way my luck tended to run.

The universe apparently owed me a favor because when we reached Seth's condo, I saw her car there but not his. A light inside gave me hope that they hadn't just all carpooled off together.

"Do you need me to come in?" asked Roman, as he pulled into my parking spot.

"No, but thanks. I'll be right back."

I left the car and walked up to the door, hoping some wacky happenstance wouldn't actually put me face to face with Seth. Not that I wouldn't have loved to see him. God, I missed him so, so much. But I knew no good could come of an encounter between us. I rang the bell and waited anxiously. A few moments later, Margaret answered.

"Georgina," she said, clearly surprised. "What are you doing here?" She took in my appearance. "Are you supposed to meet Seth?"

"No . . . can I come in for a minute? I'll be fast, I promise." She had on a coat, making me think she'd been about to leave. Either that or she was trying to save Seth money on his heating bills.

She gestured me inside and shut the door. "I was about to go to Terry's. Seth's already there." I didn't bother asking where Ian was. He probably celebrated New Year's on January third or something, just to be contrary. "You haven't been around in a while."

I wondered what Seth had told his family about us, if he'd even told them anything at all. Maybe he was just going to say nothing until one of them noticed my absence.

"Ah, well," I said. "Seth and I are having a disagreement."

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "You two need to sit down and fix it then."

How I wished it was that easy. I forced a neutral smile. "We'll see," I said. "But the thing is . . . I may be moving. No, I am moving. I have a new job . . . and I was wondering if you'd like to stay in my condo when I leave. I remember you saying you didn't want to impose on Seth's space but that you wished you could stick around more to help. Well, now you can. You can have your own place. Mine."

"I can't afford to keep my place in Chicago and pay rent somewhere here, though," she said sadly. "That's been the problem."

"You don't have to pay rent," I said. "You can stay there for free."

She eyed me curiously. "How will you afford your mortgage?"

Yes, how indeed would a poor retail-bound girl like me be able to swing that? "The condo's paid off," I explained. Let her think it was passed down through the family or something. "And my new job pays well. Look, I really don't mind you staying. It'd be worth it to me to know that the girls have you close by to help. I mean, they're going to need a strong woman around, right?"

Margaret took a few moments to answer. "Right. I just thought you'd be that woman."

"Fate has other plans," I said. Wasn't that the damned truth.

"Is that why you and Seth aren't getting along? Because you're moving? I'm surprised he doesn't just go with you. . . ."

"No, no, it's not that at all," I assured her. "It's . . . complicated. If it was as simple as moving, he would when he was able to . . . you know, when Andrea's better." I hesitated, afraid of the answer to the next question, but it was one I had to know. With no contact from Seth, the status of the Mortensens had been a mystery. "How is Andrea? Is she still doing well?"

"Yes, she's doing great. We won't know the details for sure until she sees the doctor in a couple weeks, but on the outside, things look wonderful. We're all praying."

I found myself smiling, unable to help my joy and relief. Andrea had looked good at Christmas, but I'd worried ever since then that whatever demon had made her sick before would return one of these days. Again, a doctor would have the ultimate answer, but I took Margaret's own observation as a good sign.

"Thank you," I said. "You have no idea how much that makes my night. I've needed some good news."

"Well, thank you for the housing offer. Can I let you know my answer later?"

"Of course," I said.

I wished her a happy new year and told her good night. Then, I hurried off before I cracked and asked her to deliver some sentimental message to Seth. I liked Roman's company, but I still couldn't shake the wrongness of being out with him instead of Seth tonight. After last year's miserable New Year's Eve, I'd hoped this one would be better.

"That was nice of you," Roman said, when I explained what I discussed with Margaret.

"It's an easy thing for me to do that can help a lot of people," I said. "No reason not to."

He shook his head, incredulous. "You shouldn't even need a technicality to escape Hell's reach. They should fire you out of principle."

The restaurant was tiny but elegant - and packed. I seriously doubted any connections Roman had would get us in, but through some magic, the hostess beckoned us through the crowd and led us back to a cozy candlelit corner. In it was a table covered with an old-fashioned lace cloth, as well as crystal and china place settings - for three.

I looked at her in surprise. "But there's only - "

"Hey, hope I'm not late." Carter suddenly emerged from the crowd, wearing his usual grunge wear. The hostess didn't even blink an eye. Seeing us about to sit down, he smiled. "I guess not."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I looked to Roman, who appeared just as perplexed as I was.

"I didn't tell him any details. He called while you were inside Seth's to see if we were going to Peter's, and I told him we were going to dinner instead. That's it."

Carter waved it off. "That's as good as a homing beacon. I love this place. You're getting wine, right?"

It wasn't that I was unhappy to see Carter. It was just that when Carter appeared, there was usually a reason.

"So you heard?" I said, once we'd placed our orders and dispensed with small talk.

Carter swirled the wine in his glass. We'd ordered a nice vintage that would probably be wasted on him at the rate he drank. "That you're skipping Peter's party? Yeah, I did. Man, he's going to be pissed."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not what I mean. Are you here about the appeal we filed?"

"I'm here to have dinner with friends," said Carter demurely. "But now that you mention it . . ."

"Word gets around fast, huh?" I asked. It had been a couple hours since we'd seen Hugh, more than enough time for him to deliver the paperwork to Mei and enough for her to have told Jerome.

"Oh, I found out from him," said Carter, nodding toward Roman.

"He asked when he called me earlier," explained Roman. "He knew we'd been working on it."

"How?" I asked, startled.

"Hugh and I have had to consult him on a couple of things this week," said Roman. "Nothing that breaks any rules, of course." Carter gave him a mock toast to that. "But enough to clarify a couple points about Hell's fucked-up legal system."

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.