"Nice place," I told him, still aghast at the damage done to such beauty. "Fixer-upper?"
The demon's eyes flashed with amusement at my joke. "I do so love having you around, Georgie." He sipped his drink. "Yes, it is a little rough around the edges right now, but no worries. It'll clean up. Besides, I have other domiciles."
Jerome had always been very tight-lipped about where he lived, and I suspected it was only Carter's intervention that allowed us to even remain here right now. The demon would have never invited us. Walking over to a large bay window, I beheld a magnificent view of Lake Washington, the Seattle skyline glittering beyond it. Based on the angle of my view, I would have wagered money we were in Medina, one of the more elite Eastside suburbs. Only the best for Jerome.
"So what happened?" I finally asked when it became apparent no one else intended to broach the subject. "Was this a nephilim attack, or did you just throw a party that got out of hand? Because honestly, if it's the last one, I'm going to be really pissed we weren't invited."
"No such fears," Carter told me, smiling. "Our friend the nephilim did a little redecorating, kindly flashing us when it was over. That's why I abandoned you at Erik's. I would have given you some warning, but when I felt it over here..." He looked meaningfully at Jerome. The demon scoffed in response.
"You what? Thought I was in danger? You know that's not possible."
Carter made a nondescript noise of disagreement. "Yeah? What do you call that?" He inclined his head toward the spray-painted symbol.
"Graffiti," responded Jerome disinterestedly. "It means nothing."
I walked away from the breathtaking window and its pricey view, looking the symbol up and down. I'd never seen anything like it, and I was familiar with a lot of characters and markings from all types of places and times.
"It must mean something," I countered. "Seems like a lot of trouble for nothing. Otherwise, he could have just written 'you suck' or something like that."
"Maybe that's in one of the other rooms," suggested Cody.
"A punch line worthy of Georgie. You're learning more than dancing."
Ignoring the demon's attempt to change the subject, I turned to Carter for answers. "What is it? You must know what it means."
The angel studied me speculatively a moment, and I realized I'd never appealed to him before for serious help. Until our recent roommate stint, most of our interactions had been downright antagonistic.
"It's a warning," he said slowly, not looking at his demonic counterpart. "A warning of impending disaster. The real phase of a battle about to begin."
Jerome's finely suppressed control snapped. He slammed the glass down on an off-kilter table, face flushing. "Christ, Carter! Are you insane?"
"It doesn't matter, and you know it. Everything's going to come out anyway."
"No," hissed the demon icily, "not everything."
"Then you tell them." Carter made a grandiose gesture toward the symbol. "You explain and make sure I don't say too much."
Jerome glared at him, and they locked eyes in their usual way. I'd seen it happen countless times, but upon reflection, I felt pretty sure I'd never actually seen them at such odds with each other before.
"It might have meant those things at one time," Jerome admitted at last, exhaling in an effort to calm himself. "But not anymore. As I said, it's meaningless now. An archaic scrawl. A charm which, without anyone to believe in it anymore, holds no power."
"Then why use it at all?" I wondered aloud. "More of the nephilim's bizarre sense of humor?"
"Something like that. It's to remind me who we're dealing with - as if there was any possible way I could forget." Picking up his sloshed martini, Jerome finished it in one gulp. Sighing, suddenly looking tired, he glanced at Carter. "You can tell them about the other ones if you want."
The angel's face registered mild surprise at the concession. He looked back up at the marred wall. "This symbol is the second in a set of three. The first is the declaration of battle - a way to sort of psyche out your enemy with what's to come. It looks just like this but with no diagonal. The last symbol marks victory. It has two diagonals and is displayed after the enemy is defeated."
I followed his gaze. "So, wait... if this is the second, does that mean you've seen the first already?"
Jerome walked out of the room and returned a moment later, handing me a piece of paper. "You're not the only one who gets love notes, Georgie."
I opened it up. The paper was the same kind used for my notes. Displayed on it, in heavy black ink, was a copy of the symbol on Jerome's wall without the diagonal. The first symbol, the declaration, according to Carter.
"When did you get this?"
"Just before Duane died."
I thought back through the weeks. "That's why you didn't push me too hard when he died. You already had a good idea who was responsible."
The demon shrugged by way of answer.
"Wait a minute then," exclaimed Cody, coming to look over my shoulder at the note. "If this is the first warning... are you saying that everything that's happened - Duane, Hugh, Lucinda, Georgina - has been part of the 'psyching out'?" The vampire grew incredulous when neither of the higher immortals responded. "What more can there be? What is this 'real phase'? I mean, he's already attacked or killed, what, four immortals?"
"Four lesser immortals," I supplied, suddenly catching on. I looked back and forth between Jerome and Carter. "Right?"
The angel gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Right. You guys have been the practice round before the big hit." He gave Jerome another pointed look.
"Stop it," the demon snapped back. "I'm not a target here."
"Aren't you? No one spray-painted this on my wall."
"No one knows where you live."
"You're not exactly in the yellow pages yourself. You're the mark here."
"It's a moot point. It can't touch me."
"You don't know that - "
"I do know that, and you know it too. There is absolutely no way it can be stronger than me."
"We need backup after all. Call Nanette - "
"Oh yes," laughed Jerome harshly. "No one would notice if I pulled her from Portland. Do you have any idea what a red flag that would throw up? People would start noticing, start asking questions - "
"So what if they do? It's no big deal - "
"Easy for you to say. What would you know about - "
"Please. I know enough to know that you're being overly paranoid about..."
The two went back and forth at each other, Jerome adamantly denying there was any problem, Carter maintaining that they needed to take appropriate precautions. As noted earlier, I had never seen the two of them in such open disagreement. I didn't like it, especially as their voices began to rise in volume. I didn't want to be around if they came to blows or displays of power, having already seen too much of their strength in the last few weeks. Slowly, I backed up out of the living room toward a nearby hallway. Cody, catching my mood, followed.
"I hate it when Mom and Dad fight," I commented as we retreated away from the divine bickering, seeking a safer locale. Looking in doorways, I saw a bathroom, a bedroom, and a guest room. Somehow I didn't imagine the demon hosted too many overnight guests.
"This looks promising," observed Cody as we turned in to an entertainment room.
More leather seating surrounded a massive, absurdly thin plasma screen hanging on the wall. Sleek, beautiful speakers stood in strategic spots around us, and a substantial glass case displayed hundreds of DVDs. This room, like the others, had been sacked. Sighing, I threw myself on to one of the ripped chairs while Cody checked out the sound system.
"What do you think of all this?" I asked him. "The new developments, I mean, not the entertainment setup."
"What's to think? It seems straightforward to me. This nephilim character warms up with lesser immortals and now decides to take on the higher ones. Sick and twisted, but well, that's the way it is. On the bright side, maybe we're out of danger now - no offense to Jerome or Carter."
"I don't know." I tipped my head back, thinking. "Something still isn't right to me. There's something we're missing. Listen to them in there. Why is Jerome being such an idiot about all of this? Why won't he listen to Carter?"