International Travel free essay sample

No matter how much you read ahead of time, youll be confronted with culture and custom that you are unprepared for. The farther removed the culture is from your own, the more you can expect to be surprised. Novice travelers will struggle with the basics everything from getting a cab to finding a public bathroom can offer a challenge. Veteran travelers will be more secure with the small stuff and that may offer them a firm-enough foundation to give them the confidence to try the more challenging things. That is where we were on our recent adoption trip to China: Veteran third-time travelers who were confident that we could do anything and blend right in. Our trip to the real Chinese restaurant taught us otherwise. It was our second week in China. We were there with our two previously adopted Chinese children, ages ten and eleven, and wed just added a new family member. We will write a custom essay sample on International Travel or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page She was a new daughter, age twelve, and she spoke not a word of English. Things had been going very well, and our new daughter was really fitting in seamlessly. This being our third trip, we felt pretty cocky. We snickered good-naturedly as first-time travelers timidly peeked outside the doors of the hotel onto the Chinese thoroughfare. They might make a run for the McDonald’s now and again, or go all the way up the block to KFC, but actually heading out into the big city, sans guide, was not on their bucket list for the time being. That was not for us. We decided that wed all head out to an authentic local restaurant, the sort frequented by the Chinese rather than by westerners; the type with plastic curtains rather than doors; a restaurant with no western influences beyond the ubiquitous presence of Coca-Cola products. Three hungry children herded between us, my wife and I set out to find just the right place. We headed out the less-frequently-used rear entrance of Guangzhous China Hotel, which spilled out onto the broad Panfu Avenue, a typical busy main thoroughfare. It was filled with small shops and stalls, looking shabby and temporary to Western eyes, though in reality, permanent centers of street commerce. We wound our way through typical robust foot traffic, straining to keep the kids together amidst the crowds. We passed up several restaurants close to the hotel in an effort to separate ourselves from the tourist-oriented places, but several blocks away we came upon the Liushen Xiguan restaurant, which translates roughly as â€Å"Traditions of the Six Gods† restaurant. It was clad in gold paint, trimmed with red cloth, and several large Buddhas smiled at us as they stood sentry on the sidewalk. The wall in the entryway was covered with awards given by the local of chamber of commerce, and as an added benefit, the awards each offered a picture of the winning dish. Velvet padded bamboo chairs lined the wall in the waiting area. Peeking through the windows, we could see that the dining area was enormous. Such a place was likely to have good food, was clearly worth a stop. It was 4:50 when we asked to be seated, but oddly, the dining room was dark and the hostess desk was empty as were the tables. No table cloths or place settings were to be seen, and the chairs were upended and sitting atop the tables. A hostess apprehensively approached us to talk. After much arm flapping and hand gesturing, we came to understand that the restaurant would not open until five P. M, although we could not see how it would do so. Not a soul was to be seen besides the hostess, and nothing was prepared for customers. We began to have second thoughts and we started to wonder if wed misunderstood the hour that service would start. We decided to wait for a bit, if only to rest. At the stroke of five the lights came on to illuminate a dozen employees rushing from the kitchen, bearing ornate livery for the tables, and tools of the trade for the hungry guests. The dining space went from abandoned warehouse to friendly, well-lit, white linen appareled eatery in a matter of moments. Once seated, we began to notice differences from what we expected in a restaurant. Soup bowls appeared, as well as a pot of tea, tea cups, and a large empty ceramic bowl. We watched the other tables to see what use our fellow diners would have for the bowl. Some diners were watching us. Perhaps they didnt know what to make of the empty bowl either? More likely, they were wondering what a couple of Americans were doing here staring at them too. Other diners were taking the cups, bowls, and spoons and washing them in the tea, using a rather practiced method. The used tea was discarded into the empty bowl. I wasnt sure if this meant we needed to do our own dishes, or if it was simply a custom. To be on the safe side, we started washing. I noticed curious grins. Was I doing it wrong? Did we appear like children playing in a wading pool? Unblemished by the bemused stares, we toweled ourselves dry, and with confidence in the cleanliness of our place settings, we dug into the menu. There were thirty pages of menu items. Many had pictures and some had English translations, though mostly the translations read â€Å"Pork and vegetables in sauce† or â€Å"Chicken with vegetables in sauce†. While Im certain that was accurate, it was of little value in helping us to choose from amongst the twenty five varieties of â€Å"Pork with vegetables in sauce†. We struggled with the pictures and each made the best possible dinner choices we could, with a few appetizers added in. The waitress took our order promptly and returned in a few minutes with my meal, and nothing else. No appetizers. No other orders. Just mine. She placed it in the center of the table and left. My meal was far larger than I expected. In fact, it was large enough to feed us all. Suddenly we grasped what we had missed. The table top was essentially an enormous lazy Susan. It appeared that we would be eating family style. Other tables were sharing food as well, so we set out to share the barbecued pork I had ordered. A few moments later the next meal appeared, and shortly thereafter, the next, and then the next, each meal large enough to feed a family of five. Even the items wed been led to believe were appetizers seemed enormous. Before long, we had enough food for forty people. There was so much, that the server was barely able to find room for the last steaming bowl of fried rice. Ive been to weddings that served less food than wed purchased. We were clearly the center of attention now as we made an effort to at least put a dent in the spread we were responsible for. The pictures didnt do the food justice, nor were they worth the thousands words Id so often been promised. The fried rice was filled with boldly colored fresh carrots, peas and sprouts, and those turned out to be the only vegetables on the table that we easily recognized. We were served steamed and pan-fried dumplings, bursting with juices and filled with meat stuffing. There was a whole roasted chicken, the bright yellow color of a school bus. When I say whole, I mean it. Chicken in China often comes with feet, head and beak attached. It appeared that our dinner had walked straight from the barnyard to the oven. A second chicken was served in pieces which had the bright red color of a fire engine. Both birds were juicy and offered bold flavor, the yellow one having been seasoned with a curry and the red one more of a peppery spice. The seafood dish seemed a bit more tentacle-filled than we were used to, and it went largely unloved. I still have no clue to this day what was in it, though I will admit that the description â€Å"fish with vegetables in sauce† seemed unerringly accurate. Our crisp pork on a platter seemed straightforward. No sauce or vegetables, though I could swear that the translation of the dish said they were included. Our meal was rounded out by a course of tea smoked duck. The dark meat had been roasted over a tea leaf fueled fire and had a deep rich flavor. After some of our other mis-translations, I would not have been surprised to have had it served in a pipe for actual smoking, but it wound up being the best part of the meal. I do hope it was duck though. We left a great deal of food on the table. In very American fashion, we asked for containers to take the remaining food for thirty back to our hotel. That doesnt seem to be the norm in China, but we packed up our bags and loaded up with more victuals than a United Nations food convoy. I was concerned about the cost, but for all the entertainment that our endeavors provided for the patrons, perhaps they should have paid us. The price was thankfully low; bless you generous exchange rate. One last problem appeared. The tip. It is insulting to over tip in China. After having the experience of being publicly chastised by a cab driver for over tipping, I was leery. Loaded down as we were, there could be no quick escape should I insult the staff with too many Yuan, or too few. The Six Gods must have been watching out for us though. The older hostess (manager, cook, waitress, cashier no real idea) took pity on me and selected a bill to leave as a gratuity. It was far less than I would have chosen. Id have given her double that just for getting me out with my remaining dignity intact. We wound our way back to the hotel, filled with a good meal, good stories, and a good deal of new knowledge about how things are done in China. I mentioned the experience to our guide, who filled in a few of the blank spots. He was happy to hear that we were treated well by the local people. I was happy for the experience. A few days later, we coaxed some other group members to come out with us to the restaurant. We displayed our dining skills for them without ever mentioning the difficulties with which they were acquired. After all, that is how veterans maintain their mystique.

Inversion

Inversion INSTRUMENTS DE COBRAMENT INSTRUMENTS DE COBRAMENTEfectiu/MetÂÆ' l‚Â ·lic: es habitual en les operacions de venda que el comerÂÆ'Â § detallista realitza amb el consumidor final. Quan cobrem en efectiu tenim de fer una justificaciÂÆ'Â ³ de pagament que es el rebut. L'efectiu ÂÆ'Â ©s l'actiu mÂÆ'Â ©s lÂÆ'Â ­quid de tots els actius d'una empresa.. El cobrament es fa a 0 dies ja que es immediat. No hi ha cost de cobrament i el punt clau es el ingrÂÆ'Â ©s en un dia.TransferÂÆ'ncia:Targetes:Rebuts normalitzat:Rebuts de descompte:DomiciliaciÂÆ'Â ³ bancÂÆ' ria:Confirming:Factoring:Xec: El xec es un document mercantil que contÂÆ'Â © un manament pur i simple, el lliurador ordena a una entitat financera que pagui a la seva presentaciÂÆ'Â ³ i de forma immediata. En el xec intervenen el lliurador(emet el xec , ordena el pagament i escriu la quantitat que vol pagar), el lliurat(sempre ha de ser una entitat bancaria) , tenidor o prenedor(el cobrador del xec).La valoraciÂÆ'Â ³ del xec es fa de 0-2 dies. El seu cost es la comissiÂÆ'Â ³ del banc cap al que emet el xec i el seu punt clau es que es cobra el mateix dia que es rep el xec.Lletra de canvi: Es un instrument de cobrament que no estÂÆ' generat per una entitat financera, sinÂÆ'Â ³ per una persona fÂÆ'Â ­sica o jurÂÆ'Â ­dica. El lliurador obliga a pagar al lliurat, en la data i lloc indicat. Es el lliurador qui emet la lletra de canvi(iniciativa). El lliurador te de pagar un cos per emetre la lletra de canvi que depent del import d'aquesta, a continuaciÂÆ'Â ³ o podem veure.Per acabar, dir que el punt clau de la lletra de canvi es que es transmet de persona a persona i que es pot domiciliar al banc perquÂÆ' es pugui exercir el cobrament automÂÆ' tic en el compte...

Commodity chain Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words

Commodity chain - Essay Example The high density polythene is constantly recycled, where other products that have lived their usefulness are broken and the materials remolded to make new items. The mug as it involves simple manufacturing process of melting plastics and then remolding the plastic to form the mug. This must have been made in the same place where the material was outsourced. This is further affirmed by Media Federal (2011) who explains that the company manufacturers large volumes of similar product. It therefore means that the smelting and the molding were made at the same factory; that is the Wei Mon industry co., Ltd. The plastic that is the main raw material in the mug was most likely sourced within the country for recycling or was either new plastic that was formed in the company to manufacture mugs. Considering that the factory manufactures many similar products as Media Federal (2011) explains, the plastic was most likely new and had been formed from raw materials. Plastics are made of polymers through a polymerization process. Most ingredients for polymerization are mostly imported from several countries China and the U.S being leaders in making these polymer materials (Harper, 714). The ingredients to make the mug were most likely bought from China and the company carried out the polymerization process to obtain the polymers that were later used in manufacturing the mugs. ` The product is produced through injection molding. The molds were most likely designed in the Wei Mon Industry co. and then used to carry out injection molding as the main process that the company is involved in. The product therefore involved the use of already designed moulds where molten plastic was forced through, and the mug formed from the molds. The workers in the process must have made very low wages. The mug requires the use of molds that are in most cases automated, the human input is reduced to control

Operational Management Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

Operational Management - Essay Example The company should also be focused on material flow and this increases the liquidity of assets and hence reduces the chance of obsolesce. This can also be dealt with by reducing defects and this ensures that fewer cars are taken back to the factories to rectify the defects. Aligning the metrics in any company has been seen to be crucial in ensuring efficient production. This was demonstrated well by Alfred Sloan where managing the cost of production is key. Having a lean organization where all the resources are used to the maximum is the driving force of success. Currently GM produces approximately 6.1 million unit products annually. If the company takes measure to improve the inventory turnover ratio, this can boost production making the company to increase productivity with 25%. It could thus be possible for GM to produce 7.625 million unit products with its current resources. This would result in increased sales turnovers as their automotives do not stay in stock for a long

Innocent Love Leading to Madness Essay Example for Free

Innocent Love Leading to Madness Essay Within Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison, and in Hamlet by William Shakespeare, the authors show how the themes love and madness, as in good and evil, can intersect. Toni Morrison shows that through the relationship between Hagar and Milkman, while Shakespeare uses the innocent Ophelia, who is deeply in love with Hamlet. In the book Song of Solomon and the play Hamlet, Tony Morrison and Shakespeare respectively, portray the kind of love that eventually leads to madness. The love between Ophelia and Hamlet, as well as between Hagar and Milkman is from the beginning pure love. The letter, which Hamlet writes to Ophelia, shows that he really loves her: the most beautified Ophelia (II, iii). He used the word beautified to display a sincere tribute and it is obvious that he loves her. In Song of Solomon, feeling starts to arise between Milkman and Hagar very early. Already when Hagar was to take in two baskets from the porch, it seemed to Milkman that she was as pretty a girl as hed ever seen (p. 45). This attraction that later led to a relationship between them was one of the reason for Hagars incurable madness. As stated so far, the roots for madness was love. Although what it arose from, was the rejection from a beloved. In Hamlet, Hamlet himself rejects Ophelia as a result of his faked madness. This, together with happenings such as her fathers death, leads to a true madness. When Ophelia talks about Valentines Day, she is referring to the events of romance that she was denied. The madness caused by Hamlets faked rejection, lead to her suicide later in the play. In Song of Solomon, Milkman grows tired of Hagar, and puts an end to their relationship. It leads to insanity, here also caused by rejection from a beloved. When she realises that she will not get what she asks for, she makes several attempts of murdering him instead, with a frightened Milkman as a result. The authors characterise the devastating, but to the works important side effects that may arise when madness originates from love. In Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison combines love and madness to form a single image in the figure of the jilted lover Hagar, who ritualistically attempts to murder the object of her adoration, Milkman. The enormous passion for Milkman is shown when Guitar tries to speak with Hagar: You think because he doesnt love you that you are worthless (p. 305), but with a taciturn response. Hagars death toward the end of the novel, caused by a fever symbolises and seems to stem from the heart that Milkman broke. In Hamlet, Shakespeare leaves Ophelia with her fatal madness caused by Hamlets rejection. Hamlet managed to rise above insanity and feelings of suicide, but Ophelias weaker spirit could not hold the burden. Conflicts between good and evil are often portrayed in literature, since the subject is so timeless. This conflict is a part of peoples lives constantly, no matter what century. It exists just as much in Hamlet, which was written in the 16th century, as it does in Song of Solomon, written in the 1970s. The conflict between good and evil, love and madness; who can really draw the lines? Good and evil, in this work portrayed by love and madness, are constantly reoccurring themes that affect the reader. The madness often is a result of rejection from a beloved. Hamlet and Ophelia in Hamlet portray the themes, where Ophelia later becomes mad, due to Hamlets rejection. In Song of Solomon, Milkmans rejection leads to the grave madness of Hagar. Both cases show how love can lead to something as terrible as death.

Essay --

By the end of 18th century, with the industrialization of steel and glass, architecture began to take on a different role in the society. Architecture was no longer about building structures for an individual, but was about concerning with beauty, style, and aesthetics within the technology of space (Conway 8). The idea that building plus art equals architecture was no longer valid, as the equation undermined the true meaning of architecture. In Understanding Architecture, Hazel Conway states, â€Å"the allocation of living space is economically, socially, and culturally determined† (6), when discussing the purpose of architecture. This means that the surrounding environment of the building, also referred to as built space, is often intertwined with social relationships. Built space can be defined as the philosophical way of referring to architecture. To a certain extent, the architecture becomes about the philosophical investigation into built space, rather than establishing a single building. Through the examples of artists and architectures, such as Rachel Whiteread, Robert Smithson, Meis Van Der Rohe, and Gordon Matta-Clark, this paper will demonstrate how art pushes architecture into critical examination of built space. In doing so, it will be evident that artists and architecture define sculpture, object, prototype, installation, network, building, assemblage, and/or habitat differently. An artist who dealt with technologies of built space is Rachel Whiteread. The core concepts of Whiteread’s work includes, playing with negative space and scale, and focusing on line and form. In the piece called Judenplatz Holocaust Memorial a.k.a. Nameless Library, Whiteread uses sculpture to represent what is not there, the empty space. By... ...about recreating scale. When a person sees this piece from an airplane view or on a balcony, he or she will experience the massive quantity of the artificial nature that has been produced. However, when a person sees this piece from a ground level, the 14,000 translucent, white boxes just becomes a boring, everyday object. Depending on the location of the viewer’s presence, the piece symbolizes a different meaning. This piece is similar to the works of Tara Donavon, whose core concepts include playing with scale and working with multiplicity. She is known to use everyday household materials to create large-scale installations and sculptures. In the piece Styrofoam Cup Sculpture, Donavon glues countless amount of Styrofoam cups together to create a synthetic material that challenges the viewer’s to have second thoughts about the basic functions of everyday material. Essay -- By the end of 18th century, with the industrialization of steel and glass, architecture began to take on a different role in the society. Architecture was no longer about building structures for an individual, but was about concerning with beauty, style, and aesthetics within the technology of space (Conway 8). The idea that building plus art equals architecture was no longer valid, as the equation undermined the true meaning of architecture. In Understanding Architecture, Hazel Conway states, â€Å"the allocation of living space is economically, socially, and culturally determined† (6), when discussing the purpose of architecture. This means that the surrounding environment of the building, also referred to as built space, is often intertwined with social relationships. Built space can be defined as the philosophical way of referring to architecture. To a certain extent, the architecture becomes about the philosophical investigation into built space, rather than establishing a single building. Through the examples of artists and architectures, such as Rachel Whiteread, Robert Smithson, Meis Van Der Rohe, and Gordon Matta-Clark, this paper will demonstrate how art pushes architecture into critical examination of built space. In doing so, it will be evident that artists and architecture define sculpture, object, prototype, installation, network, building, assemblage, and/or habitat differently. An artist who dealt with technologies of built space is Rachel Whiteread. The core concepts of Whiteread’s work includes, playing with negative space and scale, and focusing on line and form. In the piece called Judenplatz Holocaust Memorial a.k.a. Nameless Library, Whiteread uses sculpture to represent what is not there, the empty space. By... ...about recreating scale. When a person sees this piece from an airplane view or on a balcony, he or she will experience the massive quantity of the artificial nature that has been produced. However, when a person sees this piece from a ground level, the 14,000 translucent, white boxes just becomes a boring, everyday object. Depending on the location of the viewer’s presence, the piece symbolizes a different meaning. This piece is similar to the works of Tara Donavon, whose core concepts include playing with scale and working with multiplicity. She is known to use everyday household materials to create large-scale installations and sculptures. In the piece Styrofoam Cup Sculpture, Donavon glues countless amount of Styrofoam cups together to create a synthetic material that challenges the viewer’s to have second thoughts about the basic functions of everyday material.

Succubus Blues CHAPTER 17

I woke to the sound of Aubrey purring in my ear. Sensing my consciousness, she moved closer and licked the part of my cheek near my earlobe, her whiskers gently rubbing against my skin. It tickled. Squirming slightly, I opened my eyes. To my astonishment, light, color, and shapes came through to me – albeit in a blurred, distorted manner. â€Å"I can see,† I muttered to Aubrey, trying to sit up. Immediately, myriad aches and pains screamed all over my body, making the motion difficult. I lay stretched out on my couch, an old afghan tossed over me. â€Å"Of course you can see,† Jerome's cold voice informed me. Aubrey fled. â€Å"Though it'd serve you right if you couldn't. What were you thinking, looking at an angel in full form?† â€Å"I wasn't,† I told him, squinting at his dark-clad shape pacing in front of me. â€Å"Thinking, that was.† â€Å"Obviously.† â€Å"Lay off,† came Carter's laconic voice from somewhere behind me. Straightening up and peering around, I made out his fuzzy form leaning against a wall. Peter, Cody, and Hugh also stood nearby in the room. It was a regular, dysfunctional family reunion. I couldn't help but laugh. â€Å"And you were there, and you were there†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Cody sat down beside me, his features materializing into sharp focus as he leaned in to study my face closer. Gently, he ran a finger along one of my cheekbones, frowning. â€Å"What happened?† I sobered up. â€Å"Is it that bad?† â€Å"No,† he lied. â€Å"Hugh was worse.† The imp made a nondistinct noise across the room. â€Å"I already know what happened,† snapped Jerome. I didn't need to see the demon's face in detail to know he was glaring at me. â€Å"What I don't understand is why it happened. Did you actually try to come up with the most dangerous situation possible? ‘Hmm, let's see†¦ dark alley, no one around†¦ ‘ That sort of thing?† â€Å"No,† I shot back. â€Å"I wasn't thinking of that. I wasn't thinking of anything except getting home.† I related the evening's events to the best of my ability, beginning with the footsteps, ending with Carter. When I'd finished, Hugh sat down in an armchair across from me, pensive. â€Å"Pauses, huh?† â€Å"What?† â€Å"The way you tell what happened†¦ you got hit, pause, then another one, pause, then another one. Right?† â€Å"Yeah, so? I don't know. Isn't that how fights work? Punch, draw back, get ready for another? Besides, we're talking about breaks of, like, a second or so. Not real breathing time.† â€Å"There was nothing like that for me. I had slashing too. It was an onslaught. A stream of blows, continuously. It defied understanding or ability. Definitely supernatural.† â€Å"Well, so was this,† I countered. â€Å"Believe me, I couldn't fight against it. It wasn't some mortal mugging, if that's what you're suggesting.† Hugh simply shrugged. Silence fell, and I gave the imp a sidelong glance to the best of my limited vision's ability. â€Å"They're looking meaningfully at each other, aren't they?† â€Å"Who?† â€Å"Carter and Jerome. I can feel it.† I turned to Carter, suddenly wondering if my trip last night had been for naught. â€Å"I don't suppose you salvaged the shopping bag I had on me?† Walking over to my kitchen counter, the angel produced a bag and tossed it to me. My depth perception still off, I missed, and the bag bounced off the couch onto the floor. The book slipped out. Jerome snatched it up in an instant and read the title. â€Å"Fuck me, Georgie. Is this why you were out skulking in dark corners? This is what you nearly got killed for? I told you to lay off the vampire hunter investigating – â€Å" â€Å"Oh come on,† cried Cody, jumping up in my defense. â€Å"None of us believe that anymore. We know there's an angel doing this – â€Å" â€Å"An angel?† I heard heavy amusement and even a scoff in the demon's words. â€Å"No mortal did that to me,† I agreed hotly. â€Å"Or to Hugh. Or to Lucinda. Or to Duane. It was a nephilim.† â€Å"A nephi -what?† asked Hugh, startled. â€Å"Isn't that a character on Sesame Street?† Peter spoke up for the first time. Jerome stared silently at me for a moment, then finally demanded, â€Å"Who told you about that?† Not waiting for an answer, he turned toward the angel. â€Å"You know you're not supposed to – â€Å" â€Å"It wasn't me,† retorted Carter mildly. â€Å"I'm guessing she figured it out on her own. You don't put enough faith in your own people.† â€Å"I did find out on my own, though I had help.† I briefly detailed my string of leads, how one had led to another, from Erik to the book at Krystal Starz. â€Å"Shit,† muttered Jerome, after listening to my spiel. â€Å"Fucking Nancy Drew.† â€Å"Okay,† said Peter, â€Å"compelling chase or no, you still haven't told us what a nephilopogus is.† † Nephilim,† I corrected. Hesitantly, I looked at Jerome. â€Å"Can I?† â€Å"You're asking me for permission? How quaint.† Taking that as acquiescence, I began uncertainly, † Nephilimare the offspring of angels and humans. Like in that passage in Genesis. Where the angels fell and took human wives? Nephilim are the result. They have certain abilities†¦ I don't know all of them†¦ strength and power†¦ like Greek heroes†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Or like major nuisances,† added Jerome bitterly. â€Å"Don't forget that.† â€Å"How so?† Hugh asked. I continued when Jerome didn't. â€Å"Well†¦ what I read said they used to cause strife and slaughter among humans.† â€Å"Yeah, but this one's not going after humans,† pointed out Peter. Carter shrugged. â€Å"They're unpredictable. They don't play by anyone's rules, and honestly, we're not really sure what this one's intentions are. It's playing a game, that's for sure, what with its attacks on random immortals and that note it sent Georgina.† â€Å"Two notes,† I corrected. â€Å"I got another one just before Lucinda died, but I was with Seth all night and didn't read it until the next day.† Hugh and the vampires turned to stare at me. â€Å"You were with Seth all night?† asked Cody, astonished. â€Å"Which one's he again?† Hugh asked. â€Å"The writer,† provided Peter. The imp regarded me with new interest. â€Å"What'd you do ‘all night' then?† â€Å"Can we not discuss Georgina's love life right now, fascinating though it may be?† Jerome gave me a speculative look. â€Å"Unless, of course, this Seth person is someone of strong moral character and principle whose life energy you plan on stealing soon in support of the greater cause of evil and its goals.† â€Å"Right on the first, not on the rest.† â€Å"Damn it. I need a drink.† â€Å"Help yourself.† Jerome wandered over to my liquor cabinet and sifted through its contents. â€Å"So how can we spot this nephilim ?† asked Cody, getting us back on track. I glanced uncertainly at Carter and Jerome. I didn't know any of the technicalities. â€Å"You can't,† the angel announced cheerfully. â€Å"They can hide their signature too, then. Like higher immortals. â€Å" He nodded back at me. â€Å"Yes, they have the worst characteristics of both their parents. Ample power and pseudo-angelic abilities, mixed with rebelliousness, a love of the physical world, and poor impulse control.† â€Å"How much power?† I wanted to know. â€Å"They're half-human, right? So half the power?† â€Å"That's the clincher.† Jerome looked much more cheerful with a glass of gin in hand. â€Å"It varies wildly, just as each angel has a different level of power. One thing is clear: Nephilim inherit a lot more than half their parent's power, though they can never exceed it. It's still plenty – which is why I've been trying to knock sense into all of you to stay clear. A nephilim could easily blow one of you out of the water.† â€Å"But not one of you.† Peter spoke the words more as a statement than a question, despite the uncertain note lacing his voice. Neither angel nor demon responded, and another piece clicked into place for me. â€Å"That's why you guys are going around with your signatures masked. You're hiding from it too.† â€Å"We're merely taking appropriate precautions,† Jerome protested. â€Å"It ran from you,† I reminded Carter. â€Å"You must have been stronger than it.† â€Å"Probably,† he agreed. â€Å"I was more concerned with you, so I didn't get a good sense. An angel in full form will freak most beings out – it'll kill a mortal – so I could have been stronger than it or not. Hard to say.† I didn't like that answer, not at all. â€Å"What were you doing there anyway?† The angel's trademark sarcastic smile appeared. â€Å"What do you think? I was following you around.† I started. â€Å"What? Then I was right†¦ that day at Erik's†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Afraid so.† â€Å"My God,† said Peter, amazed. â€Å"You really were on to something, Georgina. At least about him stalking you.† I felt semivindicated, even if Carter obviously didn't seem to be the culprit anymore. Hugh had been right in accusing me of bias. I had really wanted Carter to be the responsible party for all these attacks, as a sort of payback for all the times he'd mocked me. His timely intervention in the alley only muddled my opinion of him now. Carter explained, â€Å"After realizing that first note was probably from this nephilim, I thought it'd be prudent to pop in once in a while since our friend here seems to have an especial interest in you. My intention was to catch him or her off-guard, not to help you, though I'm happy to have been able to. Plus, that day at Erik's†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He looked over at Jerome. The demon threw his arms in the air. â€Å"Sure? Why not? Tell them. Tell them everything. They already know too much.† â€Å"Erik?† I prompted. â€Å"This thing, this nephilim†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Carter paused thoughtfully. â€Å"This being knows a surprising amount about us and about the immortal community.† â€Å"Well†¦ it's like you said, right?† asked Peter. â€Å"This nephilim would find one of us and follow him or her around.† â€Å"No. I mean, yes, that's possible, but evidence indicates this one knows much more than simple surveillance might give it†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"For Chrissake,† Jerome snapped, â€Å"if you're going to tell them, tell them. Stop speaking in riddles.† The demon turned to us. â€Å"He's saying this nephilim is working with a leak. Someone's feeding it information about the immortal community here.† Cody caught the insinuation just as I did. â€Å"You think Erik's doing it.† â€Å"He's the strongest suspect,† admitted Carter apologetically. â€Å"He's been here for decades, and he has the talent to sense immortals.† â€Å"And to think, he spoke so well of you,† I murmured, feeling aghast. â€Å"Well, you're wrong. It's not him. Not Erik.† â€Å"Don't get huffy about it now, Georgie. He's not our only lead, just the most likely.† â€Å"And I don't like it any more than you,† the angel added. â€Å"But we can't dismiss any possibilities. We need to neutralize this nephilim threat soon. It's out of hand; we'll get outside involvement before long, and that's always a pain.† â€Å"Then why aren't you letting us help you?† I cried. â€Å"Why all the secrecy?† â€Å"Are you deaf? It's for your own protection. This thing could blast you to Armageddon!† Jerome downed the rest of his gin in a flurry. I didn't buy it. There was more than just our safety at stake here. Jerome still hadn't come clean. â€Å"Yes, but – â€Å" â€Å"The committee meeting is over,† he interrupted me icily. â€Å"Would the rest of you excuse Georgina and me?† Oh shit. I looked desperately at my friends, hoping they might stay and defend me, but they all scurried out. Cowards, I thought. None of them would cross Jerome when he spoke like that. Okay, I wouldn't have either in their shoes. Carter, I noticed, did not leave. The directive apparently did not apply to him. â€Å"Georgie,† began Jerome carefully, once the others were gone, â€Å"you and I seem to be facing off more often than not lately. I don't like it.† â€Å"It's not exactly facing off,† I noted, squirming uneasily, recalling his display of power at the hospital and threat to â€Å"stash† me somewhere. â€Å"We're just having differences of opinion lately.† â€Å"Differences that can get you killed.† â€Å"Jerome, this can't possibly just be about – â€Å" â€Å"No more.† A wall of power slammed into me, throwing me back against the couch. It was like one of those carnival rides where people stand along the sides of a round room that spins faster and faster until inertia pins everyone's limbs to the walls. Moving became agony. Even breathing was a struggle. I felt like Atlas, bearing the brunt of the world's weight. Jerome's voice boomed inside my head, and some brave part of me cursed his parlor tricks, even as the rest of me recoiled. I need you to listen to me for once without constantly interrupting. You cannot keep poking around here. Doing so calls attention to yourself, and you already have a lot more of it on you from this nephilim than I would like. I neither need nor want a new succubus. I've grown accustomed to you, Georgina. I do not want to lose you. I am more lenient with you than I should be, however. You get away with things no other archdemon would allow. I haven't minded indulging you thus far, but things can change – especially if you continue to be insubordinate. I can have you transferred somewhere else, away from this cozy delusion of a human life you've established. Or I can call Lilithin and report your behavior to her directly. I'm sure she'd he happy to do a little retraining with you. My heart stopped at the mention of the Succubus Queen. I had met her only once, when I first joined the ranks. That encounter, rather like seeing Carter in all his angelic glory, was not an experience I wanted to repeat anytime soon. Do you understand? â€Å"Y-yes.† Are you sure? The pressure increased, and it was all I could do to manage a weak nod. The psychic cage abruptly dropped, and I slumped forward, taking in deep breaths. I could still feel where his power had touched me, rather like a tactile version of the afterimage one sees with a camera flash. â€Å"I'm glad you understand, and I'm sure you'll also understand if I don't entirely believe you. It's part of the nature of our side.† â€Å"Is this†¦ is this the part where you stash me somewhere?† He chuckled softly. Menacingly. â€Å"No. Not yet at least. Frankly, I think you just need a little supervision to stay out of trouble. I'm also not entirely convinced you and the nephilim merely have a passing relationship.† A retort was on my lips, but I bit it off, my skin still burning. â€Å"I'd have one of your friends do it, but I don't doubt you could wrap any of them around your smallest finger. No, you need babysitting by someone who won't bend, who won't fall for your tricks.† â€Å"Tricks? Who then?† For a minute, I half thought he referred to himself until I noticed Carter's smug smile. Oh man. â€Å"You can't be serious.† â€Å"It'll ensure you toe the line, Georgie. What's more, it will keep you alive.† â€Å"You're practically our best lead at the moment,† Carter explained. â€Å"This nephilim has some interest in you, even though that interest seems to have shifted a bit from note-passing to assault.† â€Å"Carter will be ready if it tries to finish what he interrupted. He can also shield your apartment from prying eyes.† â€Å"But it'll sense him when we go out – † I tried weakly. â€Å"No more than you can now,† Carter reminded me. â€Å"And I'll be invisible. A ghost at your side. An angel on your shoulder, if you will. You won't even know I'm around.† â€Å"Jerome, please, you can't do this – â€Å" â€Å"I can, and I will. Unless, like I said, you want me to have a chat with Lilith ?† Damn him. The threat of Lilith was stronger than any potential stashing, and he knew it. â€Å"Good. If there's no further discussion then, I'll take my leave and let you two get situated.† Jerome glanced between us, dark eyes resting on me a moment. â€Å"Oh, by the way. Do check yourself out in a mirror at some point.† I scowled, thinking of Cody's scrutiny of my injuries. â€Å"Thanks for reminding me.† â€Å"What I'm reminding you of is that you're a succubus. Those bruises are a manifestation of believing you're human. You are not. You have to feel them, but you don't have to wear them.† With that, the demon vanished in an eye blink, leaving a faint smell of brimstone in his wake that I suspected was pure showmanship. â€Å"So, do I get the couch?† Carter asked me cheerfully. â€Å"Go to hell.† I left the room to go check out my reflection. â€Å"Hardly a nice way to treat your new roommate.† â€Å"I didn't ask for your – â€Å" I stopped halfway down the hallway. I'd spent the last couple of weeks suspecting Carter of murder and other terrible things; I'd spent the last half-century hating him as a person. Yet he'd just saved my life, and I hadn't uttered one word of thanks. I turned toward him, dreading what I now had to say. â€Å"I'm sorry.† He wore a look similar to the one Jerome had had when I asked his permission earlier. â€Å"Really? For just now?† â€Å"For not thanking you earlier. For saving me out there. I mean, I'm not happy about you shacking up here, but I am grateful for what you did then. And I'm sorry, too, if I haven't exactly been†¦ nice to you.† The angel's expression was unreadable. â€Å"Glad to have helped.† Not knowing what else to say, I turned and kept walking. â€Å"What are you going to do now?† he asked. I paused again. â€Å"Look at the damage and then go to bed. I'm tired. And I hurt.† â€Å"Aw, no slumber party games or popcorn? No makeovers?† â€Å"Don't take this personally, but you could use a makeover. You look like a refugee. Why†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I swallowed and rephrased my words as I studied him. â€Å"When I saw you out there, on the street, you were†¦ you were so beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.† My voice came out as a whisper. Carter's face turned grave. â€Å"Jerome's the same way, you know. In his true form. Just as beautiful. Angels and demons come from the same stock. He chooses that John Cusack wannabe shape by choice.† â€Å"Why? Why does he do that? And why do you choose to look like a junkie or a bum?† The edges of the angel's lips turned slightly upward. â€Å"Why does a woman who claims she wants to avoid the attention of nice men choose a form that makes everyone around her do a double take and stare?† I swallowed again, lost in the far reaches of his eyes, but not in the same way I had been lost in Roman's or Seth's eyes. It was more like the angel could see all the way through me, through all of my facades, down to my soul or what remained of it. With great effort, I broke that scrutiny, turning back toward my bedroom. â€Å"No one is punished forever,† he told me gently. â€Å"Yeah? That's not what I hear. Good night.† I went into my bedroom, closing my door behind me. Just before it clicked, I heard Carter call, â€Å"So, who's making breakfast?†