Maddie paused to catch her breath before saying, “I’m beginning to think it has something to do with their current diviner. His name is Abraham Metcalf. The Nephilim have been around for two hundred years and the Arkana a lot longer than that without our paths ever crossing until right around the time this Metcalf took charge of the organization. It might be he’s got an agenda that we don’t know about.”
The second they cleared the top of the spiral staircase into the tower, the operations director walked directly to the couch, sat down, and lit up a cigarette. “You know I promised Griffin that if the stairs ever got to be too much for me, I would quit cold turkey. I might be a little winded, but I guess my habit is safe for today.”
Cassie sat on the sofa slightly downwind of her companion. “So, the Nephilim are living here in the Midwest?” she asked.
Maddie laughed ruefully. “I wish they could be corralled that easily, but they’ve gone global. They have satellite communities everywhere, and their so-called apostles are out beating the bushes for missing Nephilim as far east as China.”
The girl felt puzzled. “How do they know when they find one? Is there a DNA test? A secret handshake?”
“In the screwiest bit of circular logic ever, they believe that if a guy joins their cult, then that proves he has angel blood. He’s doing what he was meant to.”
“Unbelievable.” Cassie shook her head. “But I still don’t get why anybody would want to join up with them. I mean if their diviner expects them to act like a bunch of lemmings, what’s the appeal?”
Maddie blew out a long puff of smoke, cocked her head to the side, and considered the question. “Try to imagine you’re some poor schmuck with a boring life and low self-esteem. Somebody comes along and tells you you’re descended from a line of angels. You’re better than human. Who wouldn’t like to believe that?
“Besides, I think some people get turned on by the idea of Armageddon. Things go wrong in their own lives, and they automatically believe the whole world needs an overhaul. And who better to make that happen than some overlord god hurling thunderbolts. They can fantasize about a big sky daddy who’s going to kick the asses of everybody who’s ever been mean to them. Then they figure their lives will get better. Of course, that assumes they think they’re on his good side.”
“Still, why would anybody blindly play follow-the-leader like that?”
Maddie waved her hand in the air to waft her growing smoke cloud away from Cassie. “Faith is a tricky thing. A real slippery slope. It has to be balanced with some kind of reality check which people who join these organizations tend to avoid. Hundreds drank the Kool-Aid at Jonestown. A dozen people from Heaven’s Gate committed suicide to board a spaceship. Eighty more loonies let David Koresh blow them up at Waco. Cults are made up of people who let somebody else make their decisions because they don’t trust themselves to know what to do.”
Cassie grew somber as her mind drifted off to another topic. She thought about a man with wavy hair. “Now that you know about this Leroy Hunt character, what are you going to do to him?”
“For the time being, nothing. He’s part of a bigger puzzle. We need to find out why the Nephilim wanted him to steal the key in the first place. Singling him out for retribution at this stage isn’t going to help us get the answers we need.”
The girl felt crestfallen. “In other words, you’re telling me that this guy is never going to have to pay for what he did to Sybil.”
“All in good time.” Maddie gave a knowing smile. “I have a feeling we’re going to cross paths with him again very soon.”
“At the Nephilim headquarters?” Cassie asked hopefully.
“Nope. Somewhere in the vicinity of the lock that fits that stone key. Griffin tells me he should know where to find it any day now.”
Chapter 23 – The Object of My Rejection
Five minutes after the operations director escorted Cassie from the building, she called Erik into her office. The young man wore a sullen expression. He appeared ready for battle.
“Have a seat,” Maddie said tersely.
Erik slouched into a chair and folded his arms across his chest, defiantly propping his feet on the edge of Maddie’s desk.
She looked at the worn heels of his loafers. “You need new shoes,” she commented.
He gave a wry smile in spite of himself. “Am I busted, chief?”
Maddie shrugged. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me your side?”
“My side of what?” Erik asked defensively.
The operations director shot him a reproachful look. “I think this would go faster if you stopped tap dancing.”
The young man let out an exasperated sigh. “What did she tell you?”
“She said you were rude to her.”
“So Little Miss Tiny got her feelings hurt? Maybe I should send her flowers or something.”
His comment was met by dead silence.
He apparently reconsidered his approach. “You know this whole situation is nuts!”
“You don’t like her? She seems OK to me.”
Erik rubbed the back of his neck. “She isn’t one of us.”
The operations director was taken aback. She remained silent for several seconds before countering, “Her family has been part of the organization for generations.”
“Maybe her family has been, but she was raised as an outsider without a flipping clue what the rest of her relatives were doing.”
Maddie sighed. “So, she came from the outside. Way back when the Arkana first got started, everybody came from the outside.”
Erik laughed humorlessly. “You know this is different. All of us, everybody who’s in the organization
