Chapter Eight

Hank's POV

Jesus, talking to that woman was annoying sometimes.

"Blythe, dear, it's going to be okay. I'm positively sure that we will find Nora." I said, trying to speed through and get her off of the phone. "I'll come over tonight, don't worry." I hung up as she began sobbing. Sometimes I felt a little bad that I was fooling poor Blythe in the case of our daughter, but then I realized the situation at hand and knew that it couldn't get any better. I looked up at Blakely, who was standing across from my desk. We were at my car dealership, and he'd come to update me on my personal business as the Black Hand.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, gesturing towards my face and hands. I looked down at them; it'd taken a whole goddamned week for my injuries to heal after that damned fallen angel had ripped my skin off.

"Better than ever." I said, nonchalantly. "How's my lovely, illegitimate daughter doing?" Blakely returned the look.

"According to Dagger, she hasn't made a peep all week. She's still alive, although barely."

I nodded. I'd lost my cool when she'd spoken to me that way last week. On another, deeper level she had hurt me by bringing up Harrison. Throughout it all, he was still one of my greatest regrets, and it had triggered me. It seemed she needed to learn her place, and soon. I genuinely didn't want to have to beat her again, though; it was very brutish and beneath my standards. Also, if she sustained any fatal injuries I could lose everything, my own life included.

"I do worry, though." Blakely said. I looked up at him with curiosity- worried about Nora?

"Whatever for?" I asked jauntily. "What is there to be worried about? She's alive, and I have that boy in the palm of my hand." Blakely began pacing.

"I worry about her sanity, and the effect it will have on the angel when he takes her back. The reality of it, Hank, is that she can only stay alone for so long. He might snap when he's done all of this work and he receives a crazy person in return." He turned to face me. "I'm not so worried about how they feel, so much as how he'll react towards you when he doesn't get what he wants." Much to his obvious relief, I began laughing.

"Blakely, I couldn't give a damn about how that fallen devil feels! As soon as our deal is up, I'll have enough information to take him and the rest of his race down. Oh the irony that he's delivering his own fate!" I began laughing earnestly. "Isn't it delicious? As for Nora, eh." I waved my hand, brushing it off as an issue. She'd be dealt with when the time came.

"Do you ever plan on acknowledging her? I mean, after you wipe her memory, do you ever plan on telling her the truth once the fallen are extinguished?" Blakely asked.

"Oh, you are a romantic at heart, aren't you?" I said, smiling. "No, I have no intention of doing so. Dealing with Marcie is enough. It's a shame," I began musing, "that I couldn't have a mix of my daughters' traits. Nora's blood, strength and will, combined with Marcie's control, ruthlessness and presence. I could have a real successor on my hands." I shook my head at the idea that anyone could succeed me, seeing as I'd never die. I clapped my hands together, getting to business.

"So, Blakely. Enough about my family affairs- how's the work coming?" I asked. He knew what I was talking about.

"The devilcraft is slowly developing; I'm not sure at this point that it can kill a fallen angel, but I feel like it can certainly disable them." I shook my head.

"I should hope so; your last contraption failed miserably." I said, remembering how it was ripped from my hands. Blakely turned red.

"I'm sorry, sir."

You should be. "Just make sure they work." I changed the subject. "Now what I've been thinking is that we need more information than what the angel can give us. He's giving me information on the fallen, but I wonder about more. The archangels, in fact. The ability to fight both; now there's an idea!" I'd been ruminating on the idea for a while, and I was quite proud of it. So I was disgruntled when Blakely showed doubt on his face.

"Sir…archangels?"

"Yes."

"But…"

"Yes?" I said, raising my eyebrows. He shook his head.

"Well, sir, if that's your plan, you'll need someone who can see into that sort of thing. I don't think your fallen angel has access to that sort of information. Not to mention…well…they're archangels." I stood up from my desk and walked to him, clapping him on the back.

"No, he doesn't. Not yet. And archangels they may be, but even they aren't as omniscient as they would have us all believe. Anyway," I walked to the window, staring out into my legal, aboveground domain. "Call Dante. Tell him I need him to meet me at my home tonight. 8 pm. He's just the man I need."

"But…"

"Now, Blakely."

He made a face, but nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Don't worry, Blakely, you'll always be my favorite." I said, winking. He walked out of the room, closing it behind him. It had been such a great day. My phone began vibrating. I looked down to see it, and found a bemusing sight. Blythe and Susanna, at the same time. Oh the horror. I hung up on both of them, and continued staring out into the day.