“Georgie,” said Jerome, not unpleasantly, “it seems like you’re here more than you are in Vancouver.”

“Cedric sent me home. He doesn’t seem to want me around if I’m not doing something specific.”

Nanette chuckled and paused to take a drink of what looked like a Lemon Drop martini. “I imagine so, after that spectacle yesterday. Brilliant work, I might add.”

I grimaced, deciding to out myself and risk losing Jerome’s regard. “I actually didn’t have anything to do with that. They did it without telling me.”

Jerome didn’t seem to mind. “That footage is all over YouTube. I’ve watched it a hundred times.”

This whole thing was so confusing. Jerome ostensibly wanted me to help Cedric unravel the cult, yet my boss clearly took great pleasure in seeing the progress stall out. Again I felt like I was missing a piece of the picture here, making me even less secure about my position.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t want to interrupt your drinks. I’d just been hoping to chat with Jerome, but I can find you later.”

Nanette downed her martini and stood up. “No, no. We’re finished here. Have my seat.”

I was hesitant, but she was insistent, and Jerome didn’t appear to be too put out at her departure. She walked out of the bar like a normal human, not bothering with any elaborate teleportation—at least not while others could see her. He gestured toward her chair, and I sat down.

“So, what can I do for you, Georgie?” Jerome was drinking brandy, something more suited to a night by the fire than a Sunday afternoon.

“You were hanging out with Nanette?” I asked, momentarily putting Isabelle on hold.

“As you saw.”

“I told you about her meeting with Cedric.”

“And?”

“And, doesn’t it seem weird that she’s meeting with each of you behind the other’s back?”

“It’s not behind anyone’s back,” he countered. “I know she met with Cedric, and she knows I know.”

Isabelle was moving farther and farther to the back burner of my mind. Suddenly, it all seemed perfectly obvious. Isabelle had denied being the angel because she didn’t want her situation to change. Nanette, however, did want change. She wanted to stop feeling like Cedric and Jerome were eyeing her territory and squeezing her between them. She’d claimed her meeting with Cedric was defensive on her part, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if she might be more on the offensive than any of us realized.

“Georgie,” said Jerome dryly. “I can see those wheels in your head spinning. What are you thinking?”

Starting with the meeting at Tim Hortons, I gave Jerome a full report of my experiences with the Army and the theories I’d put together about the Angel of Darkness being a literal angel—Isabelle.

“Ridiculous,” said Jerome. “It’s not her.”

“You sound just as certain as Cedric did.”

He shrugged, almost looking embarrassed to have agreed with his rival. “Because she’s not running any cult. I’ve met her. She’s not the type.”