“I’m not the smartest guy, but I know this ring isn’t harmless. The Black Hand did something to it. He wanted a way to give every member of his army an advantage. Even when I’m not wearing the ring, and just relying on my natural strength and powers, the pull for more of both is strong. The only way to beat it is to lay off using my powers and abilities as much as I can.”
I tried to sympathize with Scott, but I was a little disappointed. I needed to gain a better understanding of how Gabe had tricked me in case I found myself face-to-face with him again. And if Hank really was the Black Hand, the leader of an underground and nonhuman militia, I had to wonder if he was in my life for reasons darker than met the eye. After all, if he was so busy battling fallen angels, how did he have time to run his dealership, be a father, and date my mom? Maybe I was suspicious, but given everything Scott had just told me, I was pretty sure it was warranted.
I needed someone on my side who could go up against Hank, if it came to that. Right now, the only person I knew of was Scott. I wanted him to keep his integrity, but at the same time, he was the only person I knew of who stood a chance against Hank.
“Maybe you could try using the ring’s powers for good,” I suggested softly after a minute.
Scott scrubbed a hand through his hair, obviously ready to drop the subject. “Too late. I’ve made my decision. I won’t wear the ring. It connects me to him.”
“Don’t you ever worry that if you don’t wear the ring, it will give Hank a dangerous advantage?”
His eyes caught mine, but he avoided answering. “You hungry? I can catch us some bass. It tastes decent pan-seared over the fire.” Without waiting for my response, he grabbed the fishing pole and descended the rocks leading down from the cave.
I followed after him, suddenly wishing I could swap my boots for tennis shoes. Scott navigated the rocks in strides and jumps, whereas I was forced to take one cautious step after another.
“Fine, I’ll put all talk of your powers on hold,” I called after him, “but I’m not finished. There are still way too many gaps. Let’s go back to the night I disappeared. Do you have any guesses as to who kidnapped me?”
Scott took a seat on a rock, threading his line with bait. By the time I caught up to him, he was almost finished.
“At first I thought it had to be Rixon,” he said. “That was before I learned he’s in hell. I wanted to come back and look for you, but it wasn’t that simple. The Black Hand has spies everywhere. And given what happened in the fun house, I figured I’d have the cops on my tail too.”
“But?”
“But I didn’t.” He looked sideways at me. “Don’t you find it a little strange? The cops had to have known I was in the fun house that night with you and Rixon. You would have told them. You probably told them I was shot, too. So why didn’t they ever come looking for me? Why’d they let me off the hook? It’s almost like—” He caught himself.
“Like what?”
“Like someone came in after and cleaned up. And I’m not talking about physical evidence. I’m talking about mind-tricks. Erasing memories. Someone powerful enough to make the police look the other way.”
“A Nephil, you mean.”
A shrug. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Maybe the Black Hand didn’t want the police looking for me. Maybe he wanted to find me himself and take care of me off the record. If he finds me, trust me, he’s not handing me over to the police for questioning. He’ll lock me in one of his prisons and make me regret the day I ran out on him.”
So we were looking for someone strong enough to tamper with minds, or as Scott put it, erase memories. The correlation to my own lost memory didn’t slip past me. Could a Nephil have done this to me? A knot tightened in my stomach as I pondered the possibility.
“How many Nephilim have that kind of power?” I asked.
“Who knows? Definitely the Black Hand.”
“Have you ever heard of a Nephil named Jev? Or a fallen angel, for that matter?” I added, increasingly aware that Jev was most likely one or the other. Not that the realization made me feel the least bit consoled.
“No. But that’s not saying much. Almost as soon as I found out about Nephilim, I had to go into hiding. Why?”
“The other night I met a guy named Jev. He knew about Nephilim. He stopped the three guys—” I caught myself. No need to be vague, even though it was easier on my state of mind. “He stopped the fallen angels I told you about from forcing a Nephil named B.J. into swearing fealty. This is going to sound crazy, but Jev gave off some kind of energy. I felt it like electricity. It was a lot stronger than anything the others gave off.”
“Probably a good indicator of his power,” Scott said. “Taking on three fallen angels speaks for itself.”
“He’s that powerful, and you’ve never heard of him?”
“Believe it or not, I know about as much as you when it comes to this stuff.”
I remembered Jev’s words to me. I tried to kill you. What did that mean? Was he mixed up with my kidnapping after all? And was he strong enough to erase my memory? Based on the intensity of the power radiating from him, he was capable of more than a few simple mind-tricks. A lot more.
“Knowing what I do about the Black Hand, I’m surprised I’m still a free man,” Scott said. “He must hate that I’ve made a fool of him.”
“About that. Why did you desert Hank’s army?”
Scott sighed, dropping his hands heavily on his knees. “This is a conversation I didn’t want to have. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to put it out there. The night your dad died, I was supposed to keep an eye on him. He was on his way to a dangerous meeting, and the Black Hand wanted to make sure he was safe. The Black Hand said if I succeeded, it proved he could count on me. He wanted me in his army, but it wasn’t what I wanted.”
A chill of premonition tingled up my spine. The last thing I’d expected was for Scott to bring my dad into this. “My dad — knew Hank Millar?”
“I blew off the Black Hand’s order. Figured I’d give him the finger and make my point. But all I really succeeded in doing was letting an innocent man die.”
I blinked, Scott’s words cascading over me like a bucket of ice water. “You let my dad die? You let him walk into danger and did nothing to help him?”
Scott spread his hands. “I didn’t know it was going to be like that. I thought the Black Hand was crazy. I had him pegged as an egotistical freak. I never got the whole Nephilim thing. Not until it was too late.”
I set my eyes straight ahead, staring steadfastly at the ocean. An unwanted sensation clenched my chest, squeezing relentlessly. My dad. All this time, Scott had known the truth. He hadn’t given it to me until I’d dragged it out of him.
“Rixon pulled the trigger,” Scott said, his voice breaking quietly into my thoughts. “I let your dad walk into a trap, but it was Rixon who stood at the end of it.”
“Rixon,” I repeated. In bitter pieces, it was all coming back. One awful glimpse at a time. Rixon leading me into the fun house. Rixon admitting matter-of-factly that he’d killed my dad. Rixon leveling his gun at me. I couldn’t remember enough to paint the full picture, but the flashes were enough. I was sick to my stomach.
“If Rixon didn’t kidnap me, who did?” I asked.
“Remember how I said I spent the summer following the Black Hand? At the beginning of August, he made a trip out to White Mountain National Forest. He drove to a remote cabin and stayed less than twenty minutes. A long drive for such a short visit, right? I didn’t dare get close enough to look in the windows, but I overheard a conversation he had on his phone a couple days later, back in Coldwater. He told the person on the other line that the girl was still at the cabin, and he needed to know she was a clean slate. Those were his words. He said there was no room for error. I’m starting to wonder if the girl he was referring to—”