Now, I wondered if Jerome was truly as indifferent as he appeared, and I wondered if Roman had long suspected that. I knew Roman hated Jerome—probably more than he hated me—but was it worth an uneasy alliance with Jerome to have some peace? Had Roman realized playing off this paternal relationship might be the only way to buy him a temporary reprieve? Of course he had. That had been Roman’s plan all along. Lingering love for Roman’s mother . . . and a bit of obligation thrown in. That was why Roman had helped free Jerome—and why he hadn’t wanted me to let anyone else in on what I learned, I realized wryly. Secrecy might have been a true concern, but he would have undoubtedly wanted to minimize others’ involvement so that he could play a major role in Jerome’s rescue and use that as leverage.

“Mei knows,” said Jerome. “I can’t control what she’ll do.”

“She doesn’t,” said Roman. “I knew what Georgina sent Seth off to do, and I had shut down just before Mei arrived. She never saw my face last time, so she didn’t recognize me now. She doesn’t realize what I am.”

“He’s right,” I realized, recalling how Grace had had him in a chokehold. Roman had been gradually letting go of his power and had had very lucky timing.

“Even if that’s true,” said Jerome, who seemed to be growing frustrated by the logic, “I can’t control what others’ll do. The angels will always be a problem.”

“Well, not that much of a problem.” The new voice was accompanied by the arrival of an all-too-familiar aura, one that felt crystalline and cool. Carter now stood beside us. “Welcome back.”

Jerome glanced over at the angel, and for half a second, he almost looked pleased. The two of them appraised each other, probably communicating telepathically. Or maybe not. Maybe after so many eons of friendship, they no longer needed to.

“I suppose you’re going to advocate for him too,” said Jerome.

Carter shrugged and glanced over at Roman. “I don’t know.” Angels had as much of an instinct to hunt down nephilim as demons did. I thought of Carter as benevolent, but he too had helped destroy Helena. “He did help. Maybe he’ll stay on good behavior.”

It was a sign of how crazy things had become when Jerome and Carter seemed on the verge of letting a nephilim stick around—and that I was the one who protested.

“Are you guys out of your minds?” I exclaimed. “You know what he’s done! He killed those people and hurt others. For all we know, this is a scam. Let him back in Seattle, and he could try to kill others. He could try to kill you. He could try to kill me!”