I knew he was right. We hung out together a while longer, moving on to less weird subjects. The bread smelled so good cooking that there was no way I could leave until I'd tried a piece. Upon tasting it, I decided that whatever her other faults, Dana knew what she was doing with food. I ended up getting away with a good half loaf of the bread and then drove back downtown to find the "big guns."

I got a lucky break, and Jerome actually answered his cell phone and gave me his location. Even if he hadn't, it would have been on my list of places to try. The Cellar was an old, dark pub in Pioneer Square, Seattle's historic district. You had to take a flight of stairs down to get to the Cellar, and I always had the feeling the place wouldn't survive the Northwest's next big earthquake. The Cellar was one of Jerome and Carter's favorite haunts.

I found them both there in their usual corner. The place was dark, as always, and was starting to pick up a little with happy-hour traffic. Angel and demon watched me enter with their typically amused expressions, both having sensed me before I cleared the door. Jerome always gave the impression over the phone that I was taking up his time, but neither seemed particularly busy now. I ordered a gimlet at the bar, smiling at the two guys who made conversation while I waited, and then moved on to join the dynamic duo.

"A working lunch?" I asked, inclining my head at the empty shot glasses in front of them. The two practically sat side by side, so the only other chair was across from them, like I was at an interview.

Carter picked up one of the empty glasses and offered me a mock toast. I clinked my glass with his. "Don't question the divine workings of the universe, Daughter of Lilith. "

"The Lord's work is never done," added Jerome solemnly.

They both seemed a little loopy, but I wasn't fooled. Higher immortals like angels and demons could control their levels of intoxication. The other lesser immortals and I had said a number of stupid things in front of them when we thought either Jerome or Carter had been wasted. Their eyes held a shrewd scrutiny even now that told me they were both curious about why I'd sought out my supervisor in the middle of the day.

"Been to see the incubus?" Jerome asked a moment later.

I nodded. "He thinks he's making progress."

"Thinks?" asked the demon, raising one eyebrow. I wondered if John Cusack could actually do that. "Is there a doubt?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you also didn't say that he is making progress."

"A slip of the tongue. I misspoke."

"You don't misspeak often, Georgie. And I've come to actually believe you do know something about seduction after all. And maybe even human nature."

"Something?"

Carter laughed at my incredulous tone.

"So," continued Jerome, "in your expert opinion, is your friend going to be able to do this or not?"

I was about to say "of course," but knew Carter would recognize the lie. Hell, even Jerome probably would. "I don't know. She's hard to read. Very strange woman." I pursed my lips, thinking. "If anyone is capable of seducing her, though, it'll be him. With my help." I hesitated before adding, "You know about the Barton thing, don't you?"

"Of course. Very foolish on Bastien's part."

"I guess." I didn't want to slam one of my best friends in this company. "But it's not like our side is really known for impulse control. And it seems kind of stupid for Barton to get so worked up over a woman who sleeps around all the time anyway. What's one more person, immortal or not?"

"Because the immortal meant something," said Carter seriously. "You of all people should recognize the nuances here. What would Seth think if you slept with me?"

"Are you offering?" I turned to Jerome, feigning excitement. "I get to retire if I bag an angel, right? Full pension and everything?"

"Depends on the angel," yawned Jerome.

Carter kept his complacent smile, unfazed by jokes about his celibacy or immortal standing. "You know what I mean. There's a difference between business and choice."

I nodded. I did know what he meant, and he was right— being with Seth made me especially cognizant of the subtleties.

"You know, I didn't come here to discuss this," I told them. Both had the tendency to steer me off topic into subjects I didn't want to explore.

"Well, do enlighten us then," said the archdemon indulgently. "I'm dying to know what would draw you away from suburban conspiracy and mortal intrigue in the middle of the day."

"Actually, it involves mortal intrigue."

I gave them a debriefing on the Doug situation. Jerome maintained his perpetual look of disinterest. Carter almost did, but snide or not, he was still an angel, and I saw compassion flicker in his eyes as I spoke. He couldn't help it.

"So, I finally managed to get Alec to give me the stuff, and now I need to know what it is. You two seemed like my best shots at identification. "

Jerome's disinterest turned to astonishment. "This is what we've been reduced to? Drug identification? Do we look like the DEA?"

Carter stretched lazily. "Remember the good old days when succubi used to want our help defending them from nephilim and other lethal creatures? This is a sign of the times, I tell you. "

I let them have a good laugh at my expense, forcing myself to stay calm and not say something that would get me into trouble.

"Are you guys done?" I asked a minute later. "Because I'd really like to get moving on this."

"Are you going to share some of it with us if we can tell you what it is?" asked Jerome.

Rolling my eyes, I reached into my purse. With a flourish, I tossed the little bag out onto the table so it slid across the surface and came to rest just in front of both of them.

Their smiles disappeared.

They stared at the bag for a moment and then—in almost perfect synchronization—looked at each other and back to me.

When Carter spoke, he was amused, but grimly amused. "Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to rule out supernatural monsters after all."

"How," exclaimed Jerome, nostrils flaring, "do you always manage to get yourself mixed up in the middle of this shit?"

I looked back and forth between the two of them. "What? What is it?"

"This, Georgina," announced Carter, tapping the bag with his finger, "is the Food of the Gods."

 CHAPTER 15

 A dozen snappy comebacks rose to my lips, but the intense looks on both their faces made me think better of it. Instead, I opted for the obvious next question.

"What do you mean?"

The edge of Carter's lips turned into a half-grin. "My goodness. I thought you'd be up on your lore. Greek mythology especially."

"Well, ambrosia…is called the Food of the Gods," I offered slowly. I had grown up in a Greco-Roman society, but that didn't mean I was an expert on all the stories. I'd only been exposed to some in my youth. It wasn't until later scholars started compiling tales from all over the Greek world that I learned just how vast the mythology was.

"Yes," said Carter, nodding at me as one would a child reciting a lesson. Jerome remained tight-lipped, a stormy expression on his face. "What else do you know?"

"Ambrosia was what gave the gods their immortality," I continued. "Although I always thought it was some kind of drink…" I stopped myself. The crystals weren't liquid at the moment, but they were meant to be consumed that way. A further alarming thought hit me. "Are you saying this Greek stuff will make Doug and the others immortal?"

I'm downright unstoppable now. A god, babe.

"Not exactly," said Carter. "And I suppose I should point out that ambrosia isn't just found in the Greek stories. It appears in almost every culture's legends in one form or another. In King Arthur's world, it was said to have filled the Holy Grail. It gave new perceptions and enlightenment to its drinkers, and promised to heal the land. Some have also suggested the flames that appeared over the apostles' heads at the feast of Pentecost were not flames at all, but rather visions they saw after drinking ambrosia. It made the apostles vivid and charismatic and let them communicate with people of all cultures and languages."