Fortunately for the scion’s sake, Hunt had also glossed over Daniel’s final conversation with the trio. Perhaps he’d been stunned into unconsciousness and didn’t remember. That was just as well. Daniel’s concern for the safety of his rivals would have been hard to explain either to the cowboy or to his father.
The scion glanced briefly at the portfolio of photos sitting on the passenger seat. This newest relic puzzle would have to wait. Today Daniel had earned a well-deserved break. Of course, his father didn’t know that. His father thought he was going right back to the library to begin the next phase of his research.
Abraham had given him a resounding lecture about future contact with Chris. Apparently, the librarian had made quite an impression on his father. In all probability, the reverse was equally true. During one of their early conversations, Chris had confided that his own father was as autocratic as Abraham.
“How do you manage to deal with him?” Daniel had asked in wonderment.
“It was easy,” Chris had replied. “All I had to do was wait for him to die and eventually he did. My life got better after that.”
Daniel’s attention returned to the present. He shifted into drive. Traffic was crawling forward a few feet at a time, and his exit was coming up next. He signaled to move to the right lane. After nosing his car onto the off ramp, traffic stopped once more. Again, he switched to the parking gear and allowed his mind to drift.
Even being stuck in traffic was preferable to the hornet’s nest at home. While he was overseas, Annabeth had disregarded his admonition to treat her sister-wives with respect. The bigger her belly grew, the more overbearing her attitude. The minute he’d entered his quarters after his journey, his other two wives pounced on him with a barrage of complaints about Annabeth. He soothed their injured feelings as best he could and promised to speak to his new principal wife. Of course, he knew that the ensuing conversation would be about as useful as talking to a wall, but he made the promise anyway.
The car behind him honked. He’d been daydreaming a bit too long. The car in front was already at the intersection. He speeded up to keep pace. Now, of course, he had to navigate downtown street traffic. He was rather proud of his ability to manage it considering that a year earlier he couldn’t drive at all. So much had changed during that time.
Daniel looked down self-consciously at his apparel. Lately, he had taken to bringing a change of clothes in a duffel bag whenever he left the compound. After a quick stop at the tollway oasis, he exchanged his Nephilim “undertaker suit” for something more fashionable. Today he wore a European cut dress shirt fitted through the middle. The salesman told him the fabric was French viscose. He’d never felt anything so silky against his skin before. The Nephilim favored scratchy textiles made of wool and flax. Not very different from the hair shirts which medieval ascetics used to wear to mortify the flesh.
The viscose shirt was a pale shade of salmon. Not a Nephilim color at all. Daniel wore it with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons open at the neck. In a daring move, he added a slender gold chain around his throat. He still didn’t have the nerve to wear any flashier kind of jewelry. His legs were clad in his very first pair of blue jeans. They were stone-washed and felt as soft against his skin as the viscose shirt. His father would be horrified at his apparel. The thought made him smile.
His car inched up to the next stoplight. He’d hit a red light on every corner so far. Absently, he watched the pedestrians scurrying across the intersection. He wondered where they were all going with such focus and determination. Each one appeared to be on a mission. Their expressions were tense and worried. At least he could relate to that. Tension and worry were old friends of his.
It was the curse of Daniel’s conscientious nature that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Admittedly, the burden had diminished somewhat now that he knew that the trio of thieves was still alive. He recalled his prophetic dream about them. For the first time, he focused on the words they had spoken in his vision. “A man cannot serve two masters.” He sat bolt upright when he also recalled Cassie’s final words to him in Sudan. Wasn’t it almost the same idea? “You need to get off the fence and pick a side.”
He accelerated to clear the intersection before the light changed again. Only one more turn to go. He waited at the next stoplight. Thinking about Cassie’s comment once again, he felt a surge of indignation. Just because he was willing to protect her and her colleagues didn’t mean he had suddenly changed his allegiance. He simply didn’t approve of murder, that was all. Turning his back on the only world he had ever known was too much for her to expect. The prospect terrified him. Daniel rubbed his forehead confusedly. No matter what his deliberate intention might be, he could feel himself slipping a little more each day. Out of the world of the Nephilim and into the world of the Fallen. In the war he was fighting with himself, had his unconscious mind already chosen sides for him?
He aimed the car up the parking garage ramp. His attention was temporarily diverted by the need to find a space and then navigate his way to the address he’d been given. He glanced at his watch again nervously.
Rounding the corner, he saw Chris seated at an outdoor restaurant table scanning a menu. The librarian smiled and rose when Daniel walked up to him. He unexpectedly gave the
