The scion led his bodyguard outside to one of the tables which bordered the square rather than remain in the noisy, crowded interior of the bar. He fastidiously consumed his food while Hunt looked on in amusement.
“Time was you told me you’d never eat nothin’ outside of one of your blessed compounds,” the mercenary observed.
Daniel refused to rise to the bait. “I’ve spent more time in the world now. Sometimes a change of attitude is required.”
“You got that right,” Hunt nodded. He squinted at his companion. “Seems to me you been havin’ all kinds of attitude adjustments lately.”
“What are you talking about?” Daniel finished the last of his dish. It hardly comprised a meal. He concluded that Spanish people must have very small appetites.
A crafty look crossed Hunt’s face. “I mean you been up to mischief your daddy wouldn’t approve of.”
“There are any number of things my father doesn’t approve of. He keeps a very long list,” Daniel replied noncommittally.
“Yeah, but this particular bit of mischief would make him blow a gasket if he knew about it. I’m talkin’ about you helpin’ little Miss Hannah to give him the slip.”
If Hunt had planned on getting a rise out of Daniel, he failed. Though the scion blanched inwardly, he’d become quite adept at masking his emotions. The recent practice of deceiving both his father and his wife Annabeth stood him in good stead now.
Daniel merely raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You think I had something to do with that?” he asked pointedly.
For a second, Hunt seemed confused and taken aback. “Well, uh, yeah.”
“Where’s your proof?” the scion asked flatly.
Hunt rallied. “I’ll tell you where my proof is, boy. She’s sittin’ behind a desk at the Home for Unwed Mothers in Chicago, that’s where. If I was to drag you over to see Miz Wilma Hawkins, she’d recognize you as the low-life who dropped our little gal on her doorstep. What you got to say to that?”
Daniel drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. “I can’t imagine why you would want to fabricate such an absurd tale much less enlist an accomplice to corroborate it. Of what possible benefit can it be to you?”
Hunt paused, trying to fathom Daniel’s reasoning. “Huh?”
“If you were to carry this wild story to my father and if he, by some miracle, chose to believe you, what do you think would become of your livelihood?”
Hunt opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air.
“He would banish me from the Nephilim, and that would mean an end to the search for the relics. You and I both know he has no one else competent enough to find them. Where would that leave you, do you think?”
Hunt didn’t answer the question. He merely stared at Daniel unblinkingly for several seconds before saying, “So that’s how it is. You’re callin’ my bluff.” His face showed a mixture of puzzlement and exasperation. “I gotta say, boy. I never figured you to grow a pair so late in the game.”
Daniel gazed off into the distance trying to demonstrate how little Hunt’s accusations mattered to him. He glanced idly toward the far side of the plaza. What he saw there actually did make him turn pale.
“God in heaven!” he exclaimed.
“So, you’re gonna come clean after all, are you?”
Daniel ignored the comment. At the opposite end of the square, he saw a trio of people walking together. A blond man, a brown-haired man, and a much shorter woman. He strained to see them clearly, but they were walking under the portico of a building that lined the entire block. They appeared and disappeared between the columns and arches.
Daniel sprang up out of his seat. “Did you see them?” he asked urgently, his eyes fixed on the three people.
Hunt stood and grabbed him by the elbow, swinging him around. “What are you playin’ at?”
Daniel shrugged him off impatiently and took off in the direction he’d last seen the trio. The square was filled with people milling about in the evening air. He had to dodge a multitude before he could reach the building where he’d glimpsed them. By the time he arrived at the spot, they were gone.
Hunt caught up with him, his voice slightly slurred from drink. “What the hell is the matter with you, boy?”
Daniel searched his companion’s face. “Did you see them?”
“See who?” Hunt asked irritably.
“The three people from Karfi.”
“From Karfi!” Hunt echoed in disbelief. “They’re all takin’ a dirt nap in the bosom of Abraham, boy. You’re a brick shy of a load if you’re seein’ dead folk now. You call your daddy and get him to pray over you or some such. Maybe whack you upside the head with a cross and clear them demons out of your noggin.”
“Perhaps that’s what he needs to do,” Daniel murmured softly. Demons. What else could it be? A doctor might call it a hallucination prompted by a guilty conscience. He knew better. The devil had marked him as damned and was beckoning him to Hell.
Chapter 41 – A Gifted Friend
Shortly before sunset, Faye and Maddie sat out in the garden enjoying one of the last warm days of fall. Maddie blew a smoke ring into the air. “How’s Hannah doing now?” she asked.
“A little better, I think.”
Faye’s uncertain tone caused the operations director to sit up straight and peer at her. “Once more with less conviction?”
The old woman smiled ruefully. “To be perfectly honest, she’s like a rudderless ship on a stormy sea. In her heart, she doesn’t feel she’s reached a safe harbor yet.”
“I guess that takes time,” Maddie observed softly. “At least
