Succubus Revealed

And of you.”

“Would you like to meet him before he leaves?” I asked.

Andrea grimaced and absentmindedly patted her hair. “Yes, in theory . . . but Lord. I look terrible.”

“Believe me,” I said. “He doesn’t care.”

When I went back downstairs, Kayla had finished, and Carter was trying to get a list out of Brandy who told him point-blank there was no way she was getting on his lap.

“I think you have plenty to work on with their orders,” she told him good-naturedly.

“And there’s nothing you want?” he asked in his best echoing Santa voice.

“Nothing you can give, I’m afraid,” she said. Her smile faltered. “But thanks.”

Carter peered at her with that piercing look he sometimes used on me, the one that seemed to look right inside me. “No,” he agreed. “You’re right. But I can give you all my prayers. And my hopes for the best.”

Brandy stared at him, caught up in that gaze, and simply nodded. I don’t think she knew what a powerful thing it was, for an angel to offer all of his prayers, but she most certainly sensed the sincerity and intention in his words. “Thanks,” she repeated.

I caught hold of Carter’s arm. “Their mom wants to meet you, Santa.”

He stood up and followed me to the stairs. We passed Ian along the way, who watched us condescendingly. “Aren’t you going to ask what I want?”

Carter paused and looked him over from head to toe. “Sorry. My workshop doesn’t do shabby chic.” Carter continued following me, despite Ian’s protest that his style was “vintage” and that “shabby chic is for wannabes.”

If Andrea felt insecure at the thought of meeting a stranger, she did a good job of hiding it. Indeed, when Carter walked into her bedroom, a little awe passed over her face, reminding me of Kayla. Andrea couldn’t see what her daughter had, but I think she sensed some of Carter’s grace. He came to a halt at the foot of her bed and took of his red hat in a genteel style, revealing rows of white curls.

“This is my friend Carter,” I said, after first making sure no one small had followed us.

“Mrs. Mortensen,” he said, dropping the showmanship. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

She smiled, and the joy in it made her beautiful, despite her weary state. “Nice to meet you too. Thank you for coming over and seeing the girls.”

Their exchange was brief. He said something nice or funny about each girl, making Andrea’s smile grow and grow. She in turn couldn’t stop thanking him. When the pleasantries were finally done, I bid her farewell and stepped outside the room with Carter. I closed the door and was about to head downstairs when he caught my hand.

“Did you see what you needed to?” I asked quietly.

He nodded, face grave, looking more like Carter than ever. “You were right. Her condition was made worse —by a demon.”

“Can you tell which demon?” I asked. I knew Jerome didn’t have my best interests at heart, but it was a hard thing to think of him purposely harming those I cared about.

“No,” said Carter. “But it probably wasn’t Jerome. It’s the kind of dirty work a minor demon would do. I can also tell you that her illness, originally, was natural. Nothing gave this to her.”

“They just made her relapse when she was starting to get better.” To get to me. To keep Seth busy.

Carter nodded.

“Okay. Thank you for coming here tonight. I appreciate it.” I started to turn, and he again stopped me.

“Georgina . . .” There was an odd, troubled note in his voice, one I didn’t usually associate with confident, laconic Carter. “Georgina, I’ve told you over and over that there are rules about what I can and can’t do, how much I can be involved. As a general rule, I’m really not supposed to do too much active interference in mortal lives.”

“I understand,” I said.

“But what happened to her . . .” He frowned slightly. “That was another breaking of the rules, something that shouldn’t have happened. And in this situation, two wrongs can make a right.”

I stared up at him in amazement. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I can heal her. I can’t completely eradicate the cancer, but I can take it back to the level it was at before she was harmed this week. I can undo what they did to her and clean the slate.”

My jaw wanted to drop. “That . . . that would be amazing !” Carter still looked sad, and I couldn’t figure out why. Did he feel like he was violating a rule, even if he was righting a wrong? “What’s the matter?”

He sighed. “What you and Roman said earlier . . . about Hell wanting to keep you and Seth apart? About how her condition keeps him here? Well . . . it’s possible, this is exactly what they want. She got better, then they made her worse again. Then, if she gets better on her own—or because of me—then everyone gets hopeful again, until they come back and make her worse. I’m not saying they will come back. But that they could. A limbo state like this ensures Seth stays around. If I heal her now—and I will if you want—I might be perpetuating that.”

There were two key things I pulled out of that. One was a very, very subtle acknowledgment that Roman and I were right. Oh, Carter wasn’t saying for sure that Hell was after Seth and me, but he certainly wasn’t denying it either. It was all part of that careful angel way of his. The other thing—the most startling one—was the implication that thwarting Hell meant keeping Andrea out of the limbo they wanted her in. Seth would always be tied to his family if she moved in and out of health. If she completely recovered, he would be free. And if she died . . .

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. Heal her. I don’t care if he stays here forever, so long as it keeps her alive.”

Carter nodded, and something shone in his eyes, something a little like pride . . . and sadness. “I thought you’d say that.”

He knocked gently on Andrea’s door before stepping back inside. “Sorry to bother you,” he said. “But I forgot to ask what you wanted for Christmas.”

Andrea laughed, eventually degenerating into coughing. Reaching for a glass of water beside her bed, she finally recovered herself. “That’s nice of you, but I’m too old.”

“Never,” said Carter. “There must be something.”

Andrea was still smiling, but it grew a little wistful. “There is something,” she said. I wondered if she’d ask to be cured, which was obviously what Brandy had wanted as well. “I want . . . I want my girls to be happy. No matter what happens to me, I want them looked after and cared for.”

Carter-as-Santa studied her with that soul-searching gaze, and it was as though something passed between them, something I wasn’t part of. At long last, he said, “I swear, it will be so.”

He walked over to her bedside and extended his hand to her. A chill ran down my spine as he did. I swear. Those weren’t words an angel could say lightly. I’d thought what he’d said earlier to Brandy was powerful, but it was nothing compared to this. Tentatively, Andrea took Carter’s hand. I saw nothing blatant, no blinding flash of light or anything like that. I didn’t even feel anything with my immortal senses. But Andrea’s face transformed, growing radiant and dreamy, as though she were seeing and hearing the most beautiful things in the world. When Carter released her hand, she smiled at him and closed her eyes, drifting into sleep.

“You healed her?” I asked, deciding not to mention the promise.

“Yes,” he said. “She won’t remember much of my visit.”

“Probably just as—”

My cell phone rang, and I hurried out of the room to answer it before Andrea woke up. It was Roman.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, are you still with the Mortensens?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I think I’ve figured out how to prove my theory,” he said, voice stern and strained.

“I still don’t even know what your theory is,” I said.

“You will soon enough. Ask Seth how he feels about hypnosis.”