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inability to ID the mystery immortal. "He wasn't one of us. Er, I mean, you know...not part of our...pantheon," I finished lamely.

"'Pantheon?' I've never heard it put quite like that - outside of an introductory mythology class, of course."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So isn't that weird? I've met hundreds of different immortals and never felt one like this. He didn't feel...normal. I mean, he did feel like an immortal, but it was just weird."

"Well, hard as it is to believe, there are still a lot of things out there you haven't experienced - despite your vast age. "

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm an infant, all right? But doesn't this worry you at all?"

He yawned. "Not in the least. Something angelic ordemonic would, but some random demigod or satyr? Hardly. They're not part of the game. Well, they're all part of the Game. What I mean is, they're not part of our game. They don't have to get permission to be here. As long as they don't interfere with our business, I don't really care. They do their own thing. We'll just catalog them and move on."

"Catalog? You've got a record then?"

"Well, I don't, of course. That's one of Grace and Mei's things."

No surprise there. Jerome wasn't really big on...well, work. Grace and Mei were subordinate demonesses who did a lot of the dirty jobs he didn't want to. I hardly ever saw them.

"I'll have to page them," I murmured, mind spinning.

"You know, I suppose it goes without saying that there are a hundred other more useful projects you could be channeling your energy into. Like, say, helping your incubus friend. From what I hear, he's stuck high and dry out in the suburbs. Emphasis on the high."

"Hey," I said, defensive of Bastien's honor, "he's just taking his time. You can't rush quality work. Besides, he learned everything he knows from me. "

"Somehow that doesn't reassure me." Jerome disconnected.

I hunted down Grace and Mei's number. I waited for the tone, punched in my call-back number, and hung up. A minute later, a Fourth of July worthy shower of sparks appeared in my living room and the two demonesses stood before me.

For having chosen two very different bodies, the pair looked remarkably alike. Grace was slim in an all-business, non-nubile sort of way, enhanced by the designer black skirt and jacket she wore. She had pale blond hair cut bluntly at chin length, brown-black eyes, and skin that never saw the sun. The only true color on her was the fire engine red lipstick she wore.

Mei dressed exactly the same, down to the red lipstick. Her hair, also chin-length, was a deep blue-black. Despite the softer lines, higher cheekbones, and delicate almond shape of her dark eyes, she radiated no more warmth or friendliness than her counterpart.

The two always stuck together, and I assumed they must be friends. Sort of. I had no doubt they'd claw each other's eyes out - or Jerome's, for that matter - if an opportunity for power or promotion was on the line.

"Georgina," said Mei.

"Long time no see," said Grace.

Both watched me expectantly. Aubrey watched them from the back of my couch, her hair on end and tail poofed out.

"Hey guys," I replied uneasily. "Thanks for coming over so fast. Slow day?"

They both stared at me.

"Um, so, okay. Jerome said you keep records of immortals who pass in and out of the city. Immortals who are outside of our..."

"Game?" suggested Grace.

"Pantheon?" suggested Mei.

"Yeah. Sure. So...do you?"

"Who are you looking for?" asked Mei.

"What kind of immortal?" asked Grace.

"That's the problem."

I told them everything I knew about him, which mostly included appearance and other encounters when I'd felt that weird sensation. Describing his signature was harder. I couldn't exactly say he felt like an incubus or an angel or a nymph or an oni. I hadn't run across his type before.

The demonesses processed this information, glanced at each other, and then shook their heads.

"He doesn't sound familiar," said Grace.

"But we can double-check the records," said Mei.

"Thanks," I told them. "I'd really appreciate it."

They nodded curtly and turned as if to leave. Mei suddenly glanced back at me.

"You should hang out with us sometime," she said unexpectedly. "Cleo's in Capitol Hill has great specials on Ladies Night."

"There are so few of us girls around here," added Grace. "We need to stick together."

They smiled and disappeared. I shivered. Going to a bar with those two sounded only marginally more appealing than stamping with Dana's CPFV friends.

Speaking of which, I decided to visit Bastien later