“What else could it be?” The old man dismissed his comment with impatience. “I do not sire daughters.”
Daniel offered no reply to his father’s ridiculous assertion.
“I spoiled her and told her she was the jewel in my crown,” the old man mused. “One day she would have risen to be my principal wife. She had no reason to run away.”
“No reason,” Daniel echoed, thinking to himself that Hannah hardly saw it that way.
“That is why I know it was the devil’s doing, but he will not succeed.” His father pounded a fist on the desk for emphasis. “No! I will grapple with my foe and defeat him. God’s plan for the Blessed Nephilim shall not be forestalled.”
“No sir,” the scion agreed.
Abraham rose from his seat. “This event has revealed to me what is needed. I will take steps.”
Daniel had no idea where his father’s thoughts were tending. “Sir?”
Abraham glanced at him briefly before marching toward the door. “Satan is ever vigilant. I will show him that I can be more so. My eyes will never know sleep again!”
Daniel relaxed visibly once Abraham left the room. The scion realized he had no reason to fear his father’s suspicions after all. The diviner had set his sights on a bigger target—one which would prove far more difficult to intimidate much less defeat. Without the relentless glare of his father’s attention, Daniel could stand on the sidelines and enjoy the show. The thought actually made him smile.
Chapter 10 – Shopping for Information
Hannah waited until nobody was looking to slip out the front entrance. She had spent two days at the place that was called a “maternity home” just to catch her breath and get her bearings, but she knew she had to find another hiding place. Despite Daniel’s assurances, she was certain Abraham would find her if she stayed here. There was nobody in this maternity home who would care enough to come to her rescue. Even Daniel couldn’t help her for fear of being caught himself. As Hannah saw it, there was only one place where she might find an ally in the Fallen Lands. She intended to travel there to see if she was right.
It was about two in the afternoon when the girl scurried to the next street corner and waited for one of the yellow cars called taxis. She had made good use of the computers at the maternity home to figure out a way to get where she needed to go. A canvas bag was slung over her shoulder which contained a map of the city and a slip of paper with an address. After about five minutes a car pulled over to the cab sign where she stood.
The driver swiveled around in his seat to look at her. “Are you gonna get in or what?” He wore a stained grey tee-shirt. His chin was covered with razor stubble.
Hannah made a move to open the front passenger door.
“Not up front. It’s against regulations. In the back.”
“I’m very sorry.” She blushed. There were so many things to learn.
“Where to?” he asked.
She slid across the back seat and handed the driver her little slip of paper. “Can you take me here?” she asked.
He scanned the address and handed the slip back to her without speaking. Then he pulled the vehicle away from the curb.
The girl bit her lip nervously. She didn’t know what awaited her at the end of this journey—perhaps something terrible if things didn’t go exactly right. She could wind up in worse peril than she had ever known from the Nephilim, but she had to risk it anyway.
The journey took a long time. Hannah guessed it might have been half an hour. The buildings were much taller in this part of town, except for the one where the driver stopped the car. It was a single story. He pulled over to the curb. She guessed this must be her destination.
“How much?” she asked tentatively, reaching into her jeans pocket for the roll of bills Daniel had given her.
“$22.50,” the driver said.
She counted out the money as Daniel had taught her to do. “I’m sorry I don’t have any coins.” She handed the bills to the driver, and he gave her back two coins.
“Well, thank you,” she said as she prepared to climb out.
“What, no tip?” he demanded.
Hannah grew flustered. It must be some odd Fallen Land custom she had violated. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means.”
“Oh, you’re a riot,” the cabbie grumbled.
She scuttled out of the vehicle, afraid that he might complain to the authorities and get her into trouble. The driver pulled his car away from the curb so fast that he made the tires squeal. Apparently, her behavior had offended him. She would have to look up what a tip was.
Hannah turned her attention to the building in front of her. It was some sort of merchant shop with fine furniture displayed in the windows. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. A little bell tinkled overhead. She advanced timidly past some display cases toward the back counter.
A middle-aged woman with short dark hair emerged from an inner room. “Hello.” She smiled. “May I help you?” She had a kind face.
“My name is Hannah,” the girl blurted out, not sure of proper etiquette among the Fallen. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The woman smiled again and stepped around the counter toward her. “My name is Rhonda. It’s very nice to meet you too, Hannah. What can I do for you?”
The girl launched into her prearranged story. “I came to pay my respects.”
Rhonda frowned a second, trying to understand the comment. “Your respects? Respects for—” She caught herself. “Oh, you must have known Sybil.”
“N... No,” the girl stammered. “I knew her sister. Cassie?” She uttered the name as if it were a question.
“Oh, I see.” Rhonda seemed to want to reassure her. “I’m sure she would like to hear from you. It’s
