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the spotlight, but I'd made sure that Jerome played up his role in the official written report. I think the demon knew I'd gone a little overboard in crediting Bastien for his assistance in this caper, but he hadn't dwelt on the technicalities. Regardless of what the paperwork said, the diabolical community knew it was Jerome's succubus in the extremely popular video. My boss's reputation had gone through the roof.

As for the CPFV...well, yes, it was most definitely in chaos. Dana had resigned as soon as the scandal went public. Suddenly missing their strong leader, the group had collapsed into confusion, flailing about with no clear direction. Poor Bill. In addition to the embarrassment of a philandering wife, he now had to do damage control and still maintain his strong stance on family values for the sake of his political career. Reelections were next year; no one knew how he'd fare.

I had mixed feelings about the whole matter. Sure, I hated the CPFV's horrible actions and was glad to see them go down. But Dana, despite her many flaws, had cared about Tabitha. It might not have been love, but the emotions were genuine. She'd opened herself up to me, and I'd made a mockery of it. Even if she managed to wade out of this mess, she'd probably never accept her sexual inclinations again. She'd bury them, continuing a campaign of homosexual intolerance. That bothered me, for the sake of both her personal and her political lives.

"And when not taking down conservative bitches," noted Hugh, "she destroys gods in her free time. Did you really beat up that kid too? You're, like, a size four."

"Don't forget about the Emerald Lit Fest." Cody grinned mischievously. "Man, I can't believe I missed that."

"Is there anything you don't do, Georgina?" marveled Peter. "You haven't been learning to cook soufflés behind my back, have you?"

I rolled my eyes and turned to the greater immortals, ignoring my friends' over-the-top praise. "Are you finally going to tell me the whole story on Sol, or whoever he was? You guys have been terribly laissez-faire about me killing a god."

"You know most of the details," Carter told me.

"And you didn't technically kill him," added Jerome.

I started. "I didn't? But...he exploded. There was blood everywhere. That seems kind of, I don't know, final. "

"You destroyed his human manifestation," explained the angel in an almost bored way. "The body he used to walk the mortal world. Sol - or Soma as he's accurately called - still very much exists."

"Soma's another name for ambrosia..." I began slowly.

"Yes," Carter agreed. "In Hindu spirituality, the god Soma is the divine embodiment of the drug. It runs in his veins and is then distributed to mortals."

I remembered his bleeding wrist and how his blood had dried. "His blood forms the crystals that make the ambrosia. That's what everyone was drinking. That's what I drank!" I shuddered.

"You also drank it in its pure form," noted Jerome, watching for my reaction, "straight from the source."

"Oh Lord," I realized. "The goblet. I thought it was some sort of date-rape drug."

"In some ways it was," Carter told me gently. "His blood, in its crystal form, serves as a self-enhancement that can be tolerated by mortals - and immortals - because it's diluted. In its concentrated form, it's too much to handle. It's disorienting. It goes beyond amplification of skills. It overloads the system, making you feel insanely good and susceptible to physical touch and strong emotion. "

Hence my reaction to his advances - and subsequent attack on Alec. Of course, I was still so mad at the former drummer that I half believed my actions wouldn't have been any different sans ambrosia.

"That's so disgusting," I muttered. "I drank blood. Gross."

Cody and Peter exchanged glances. They grinned.

"What was the deal with that dart thing?" asked Hugh. "The thing she impaled him with."

"Mistletoe. It guards the gateway between worlds. The Norse always said it grew on the Tree of Life - the tree that holds the world."

I frowned. "So, if he's just lost his physical body, then he's not really gone."

"He's never gone," said Carter. "The Food of the Gods is always around - or at least some concept of it. Mortals always have and will continue to believe and pray for some magical cure-all that will change their lives. That's why he still has so much power, despite most not knowing who he is. People don't always have to know what they're worshipping or believing in to still