“I’ll let you know,” I promised. I kissed him one last time and then left to find my own car. I had just unlocked it when a voice spoke to me out of the darkness.

“Can you give me a lift?”

I sighed. I really didn’t like the way everyone could sneak up on me lately. Of course, with Carter’s sick sense of humor, I wasn’t entirely shocked. He’d lurked while hiding his aura plenty of times in the past because he liked the element of surprise. Still. I didn’t even have a fighting chance now.

I opened my door. “Sorry. I don’t pick up hitchhikers.”

Undeterred, he slid into the passenger seat and put on his seat belt. “Did you have a good evening, madam?” He spoke in an old-fashioned, genteel sort of way.

“Don’t take that tone with me.”

“What tone? I was being polite.”

“You know exactly what I’ve been doing, so don’t act like you’re making pleasant conversation.”

“Why are they mutually exclusive?”

I refused to look at him. “I don’t want to be judged.”

“Am I judging you? Sounds more like you’re judging yourself, which really, is the way it should be. The best jury of your peers that you’ll ever find is . . . well, you. Only you know what you’re capable of and what you want to be.”

“Did you find me just to delve into the philosophy of my morals?” I grumbled.

“Nah,” he said. “Whenever I find you, I just sort of go with this free-form thing and see where the mood takes me.”

“Maybe the mood could take you to Jerome.”

“That’s your quest, not mine. Any luck?”

Again, I faced that dilemma. Who could I tell what? Grace, Roman . . . so many players on the board now and no clear opponent. “Some,” I said at last.

“Oh-ho,” he laughed. “You could be an angel with an answer like that.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s going to be enough to find Jerome, not unless a miracle happens.” The drive was short. I pulled up outside my building, getting a lucky front spot.

Carter turned and winked at me. “Well, you know my take on those. Thanks for the lift.”

“Wait,” I said, realizing he was about to teleport away. “I have a question.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“How come when mortals want things, their only option is to make a deal with Hell and sell their soul? Why can’t they make deals with God in exchange for good behavior?”

It was another of those rare moments when I’d surprised Carter. I waited for the glib answer I’d mentioned to Seth, something along the lines of goodness being its own reward. The angel considered for several seconds.

“Humans make those deals all the time,” he said finally. “They just don’t make them with God.”