Lifeblood E-Book

T.H. Morris

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Jonah Rowe thought he had the 11th Percent figured out.

Spirits were real, and he had access to ethereal powers. He got that. But he hadn’t expected this: this was one threat too many. One revelation too many.

As ethereal monsters prepare to ravage Rome, Jonah is the only thing in the way of the ancient city being bathed in lifeblood. His survival depends on him confronting the one thing he never thought he’d have to.

His past.

Lifeblood is a standalone novel, and can be enjoyed even if you haven't read other books in the series.

Leseprobe

Lifeblood

The 11th Percent Book 3

T.H. Morris

Copyright (C) 2015 T.H. Morris

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Amanda Hoey, Jon Lowery, Jared Mingia, and Brenda Jarrett, four people who are proof positive that blood ties sometimes expand past one's family unit.

Acknowledgments

The third go round! Book number three in The 11th Percent Series! THREE! It's a crazy and humbling thing to know how far this path has unfurled. And it's still only the beginning! But I'd be more than remiss, and a little egotistic, if I said I got this far alone. I started this journey with a tight core around me, helping me in any way possible. And that core has not diminished. It has only grown! Family is always a backbone in the system; wouldn't be here today if not for them. My beautiful wife Candace has been in my corner from the word go, and remains so with a kind word and gems of advice for any and all avenues. Love you, darling! Dzintra Sullivan, despite her diverse and hectic creations and schedule, always has time for a kind word and a share, like, or encouraging comment. Patti Roberts is simply the best of the best, with her keen eye for capturing what imagery will most fit the theme, plus her unwavering support and kindness. Elizabeth Wyke is always a ray of light. Jared Mingia, Jon Lowery, Amanda Hoey, Brenda Jarrett…you know how much you mean to me. I dedicated this book to you, after all! I also cannot leave this without mentioning Cynthia Witherspoon, my creative tag team partner, and Tracey Durbas, who always captures my creative endeavors via pastry or sweet delicacy. She, too, is a maven in that regard. The list goes on from there…to name everyone would be a book all by itself. You guys are simply the best.

1 Nuptials and Nuisances

Jonah had to admit that this was a very happy day. The afternoon air was pleasantly mild for late August, the sky could not have been bluer, and the sunlight couldn't have been brighter. The sunlight reflected its dazzling illumination in the metallic surface of a pond that was overlooked by many people, including Jonah himself.

As he surveyed the scenes of nature, everyone else was focused on the center of attention. With a mental shake, he turned his own gaze back to the subject at hand. It was a wise thing to do, seeing as he was one of the focal points.

He was one of seven groomsmen to his good friend and former co-worker, Nelson Black, who was just about to complete his own personally-made vows to his fiancée, Tamara Madden. Jonah's mind had wandered as Nelson read them. He was familiar with them, after all; he'd helped Nelson write them.

Nelson and Jonah met at a burdensome staff meeting at the accounting firm of Essa, Langton, and Bane. They were fast friends because of the fact that the two of them seemed to be the only ones in the entire firm that maintained an awareness of life outside of their job. Nelson was also one of the few people Jonah trusted enough to reveal his writing aspirations, and Nelson did not hesitate to encourage him to actively pursue the craft. They'd never lost touch despite Jonah's departure from the firm due to the politics and nonsense.

Nelson had been busy during that time. He met Tamara at the mall one day, and then became an almost permanent fixture in the shoe store where she worked. Jonah didn't recall all the details in between that time, but Nelson had proposed to her after five months of dating, and she'd accepted instantly. Enter Jonah, who was jarred from a nap one afternoon by a phone call from Nelson after he'd finished a strength test with his best friend, Reena Katoa.

* * *

“Hello?” said Jonah.

“Jonah? Jonah, is that you?” came Nelson's anxious reply.

“Yeah, Nelson, it's me. What's up? Everything okay?”

“No! Well, yes, everything is okay, great in fact—I popped the question, and Tamara said yes!”

Jonah's fatigue faded completely. “Great, man!” he exclaimed. “Glad to hear it!”

“Yeah! Are you willing to be a groomsman?”

“Really, Nelson, is this a question? Of course I'm willing!” Jonah told him.

“Thanks, and, uh—I also need your help.”

Jonah laughed. “What, you mean beyond being a groomsman?”

“Yeah, beyond that. See we've decided to write our own vows, and I know Tamara's will be epic, but—”

“Now, Nelson,” said Jonah, incredulous, “I know you aren't asking me to write your vows—”

“No!” said Nelson in a voice that was almost as panicked as it was scandalized. “I know what I want to say! I do! It's just that—it needs editing, shaping—well, you're the writer, and I am about as talented in writing as I am in parasailing, in other words, not. But I have a feeling that if I screw this up, it could very well be as dangerous as parasailing, so—”

Nelson's rambling was so jumbled and desperate that all apprehension Jonah had about assistance with the vows evaporated. This conversation alone proved that Nelson needed all the help he could get. That thing that Nelson said about screwing up being as dangerous as parasailing was inaccurate. If Nelson tanked in front of Tamara and her friends and family, it might prove fatal.

“Alright, alright, alright,” relented Jonah. “I'll help you.”

* * *

So after every detail was perfected and after the clandestine moments Jonah spent shoring up Nelson's shaky words were done, here they all were.

There. Nelson completed his vows without a single hitch. Jonah chose to gauge the success of the words by the tears that fell from the bridesmaids' eyes. Even Tamara got choked up, but Jonah could tell she fought back the sobs so as not to ruin the pristine state of her makeup.

The pronouncement was made, this kiss sealed the deal, and the ceremony was done. Jonah and company were the inaugural citizenry to meet Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Black.

Happy that this part was over, but cognizant of the fact that they were a long way from finished, Jonah readied himself and interlocked arms with his designated bridesmaid, who was one of Tamara's older sisters. Her face was blotchy due to tears, so Jonah supplied her with a handkerchief. They joined the procession and took the short walk indoors to where the reception would take place. Before seating himself in his designated spot, Jonah nodded to Reena, who had agreed to come with him as friends since he had no date (Reena had suggested that he ask Vera Haliday, another of their friends, to come with him as his date, but Jonah had paled and shot that down).

He knew he was going to owe Reena big for this. She abhorred dressing formally, and only tolerated it for her job. She preferred tank tops, sweats, and sneakers—basically anything she could guiltlessly splatter her beloved paints on. Today, however, she'd made a concession, and looked quite pretty in a sleeveless black top and pants to match, with her black hair and its usual scarlet highlights pulled back in a tight bun. Concerning her outfit, Jonah counted his blessings. A dress or skirt was out of the question.

Tamara's sister noticed the acknowledgement, and glanced at Reena appraisingly. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked quietly.

Jonah stifled a snort. “Um, no,” he answered. “She's just a friend.”

“She's a beautiful woman,” Tamara's sister coaxed. “You might not want to let her get away. One of the men in here might snatch her up.”

Jonah politely grinned and nodded, preferring not to tell her that the chances of Reena being picked up by one of these men was about as unlikely as Nelson's ability to handle his wedding vows by himself.

In the reception setting, further speeches were made. The last of which was by Tamara's father, an extremely thin man that somehow still managed to be intimidating. Then the well-wishers came in droves. After a great deal of socializing, Jonah found himself next to Tamara, who had beckoned him close, as if to confide a juicy secret.

“Jonah,” she said quietly, “I wanted to thank you for helping Nelson with his vows.”

“Huh?” said Jonah, who then silently scolded himself a second later. “I mean, what would ever give you that idea?”

Tamara laughed and pushed a strand of brown hair out of her face. “Jonah, Nelson is really high on you; always complimentary. He tells me all about how good your writing is, and he—” she cast a glance at him while laughed with his mother, “—I love him dearly, but he is hopeless at writing. You should see the Valentine's card he got me.” She closed her eyes and chuckled. “Sweet, but I know he couldn't articulate his feelings like that without help. And I thank you for it.”

Jonah sighed, relieved. “You're welcome,” he conceded. “For the record, though, they were all his words. I just kind of fine-tuned them.”

“I know they were.” Tamara smiled. “He'll probably want to dance again; I see he managed to prise himself from his mom.”

Indeed, Nelson joined them minutes later, clapping Jonah on the shoulder and taking his wife's hand.

“Alright, Jonah!” he said brightly. “Tam, I wanted another dance—”

“Congratulations to the happy couple!” cried a voice from behind them.

That familiar voice made the happiness in Jonah dim within seconds. He turned and looked into a face that he hadn't seen in over a year, but hadn't missed. One quick appraisal, and he saw, with a narrowing of his eyes, that not one thing had changed. Standing there, with the usual flawless strawberry blonde hair, French-tipped nails, and of course, the skimpy, risqué dress, was Jessica Hale.

“Hey, Jessica,” said Nelson, much more successful at concealing his disdain than Jonah ever would've been. “And thank you.”

“Not at all!” Jessica flashed a smile that did not reach her eyes to Nelson and Tamara. Then her expression fell on Jonah. The smile didn't slip, but her eyes hardened. “And if it isn't Jonah Rowe.”

She extended her hand to him for appearance's sake, but Jonah smoothly escaped touching her by running his hand across the condensation on his glass.

“Well damn it, would you look at that,” he said as he gave his hand of mock annoyance. “Sorry.”

Jessica's eyes flashed, but she withdrew her hand and turned back to the newlyweds. “Here you are,” she said, placing a chocolate-brown box in front of them. “A wedding present. Quaint, but quality.”

She turned on her heel and began to mingle. Jonah turned deliberately to Nelson.

“What—the—HELL is she doing here?” he demanded.

Nelson took a deep breath. “She said she wanted to come long enough to bring a gift. Said she would leave right afterward.”

Jonah glanced at Jessica, who wasn't anywhere near the three exits. “She's here to replenish her stores of gossip,” he grumbled. “But she'd be hard-pressed to find anything in here.”

Tamara leaned in with interest, and chimed in as soon as she got an opening in the conversation. “So that's Jessica, Nelson?” she asked. “The easy, politicking brown-noser from your job?”

“Well, I wouldn't say easy—” said Nelson in an attempt to be delicate to his wife, but she waved her hand.

“Save it, sweetie,” she muttered, observing Jessica's less-than-conservative outfit. “That dress and that demeanor say it all. She's probably the type of woman who'll unbutton her blouse halfway and flirt without shame just to get out of a task she doesn't feel like doing.”

Jonah and Nelson looked at each other. How could Tamara have been so spot-on?

“It's a good thing it's just her,” said Jonah after a minute. “Would've been worse if she'd had her manservant Anthony with her. But she is still a problem, even when she is alone—”

“Well, the two of you needn't worry,” said Tamara, who rose with her hand still clasped with Nelson's. “This day has been perfect thus far, and it will remain so. If, by chance, she sees fit to infringe upon said perfection, she will have me to deal with. And my mother. And my sisters.”

The mere thought of such an unbalanced confrontation was enough to refill Jonah with lightheartedness and mirth. “Why don't you two go release the tension with some dancing?” he said laughingly. “I've got to get back to Reena.”

He turned from them and headed to Reena's table. Halfway there, his path got barred by Jessica. Her face was a lesson in condescension.

“So, Jonah, I hear that you've enrolled at a university in some backwater town in the northeastern part of the state,” she drawled. “Workforce that inflexible about letting you back into it?”

Jonah's irritation rose as if it were sentient and recalled how it was always at the surface at the sight of this bitch. “Not that it's any of your damn business,” he replied, “but the bookstore where I was employed is undergoing extensive repairs from structural damages. My boss has seen fit to rest, recharge his batteries, and take things slowly. I don't have any trouble with the workforce, thank you very much.”

Jessica's eyes surveyed Jonah hungrily; she enjoyed getting a rise out of and pushing the buttons of other people more than anything in the world. “Huh. Well, I said a while back that your grand plans would fail. You seem to be adhering to my affirmation.”

Jonah hung his head in mock resignation. “You got me there, Jess,” he said in a small voice. “But seeing how your assets have yet to get you to the top, I see that you are still compliant with my affirmation.”

The smile snapped off of Jessica's face. With a smirk, Jonah brushed past her and continued on to Reena.

“Hey again, friend,” Jonah said, and plopped down next to her.

Reena turned to him and grinned. Jonah could see that she was wearing her Jarelsien and selenite dampener, which nullified her ability to read people's essences. Jonah was thankful she had it. With all the warring energies in an emotionally -charged setting such as a wedding, she'd be subject to collapse. Seeing as she already had experience with that, no one was interested in a repeat.

“I wanted to tell you before I forgot,” he told her, “Tamara's sister told me, in all seriousness, not to let you slip away, because one of these guys in here could pick you from the bunch.”

As expected, Reena laughed out loud. “She needn't worry,” she said, “but it was awfully nice of her to be concerned for my virtue. By the way,” she frowned slightly, “who was that skank who hopped in front of you?”

“Oh, right,” muttered Jonah, irritated. “Remember me telling about Jessica Hale, from the accounting firm?” He told Reena all about Jessica Hale; the duplicity, the charm, the politics, the backstabbing, the skimpy skirts.

Reena made a wry face when Jonah was done. “So that's that woman,” she grumbled. “Little twit. You know that I have no love for women who attempt to advance themselves using their bodies. Does she take pleasure in making all women look bad with her actions?”

“Jessica takes pleasure in a lot of things best not repeated here,” replied Jonah. “But have no fear. Tamara informed me and Nelson that if Jessica caused any disturbances, she would sic her mom and sisters on her, and then scour the scraps herself. She was adamant that this day remain perfect.”

Reena smiled. “Ah, love. The emotion that will make people go full-blown primal.”

Jonah raised an eyebrow. Both Reena's tone and smile were wistful. But then a suspicion reared itself in his mind. “Were you ever in love, Reena?” he pried.

Reena took three bites of her salad, chewed deliberately, and gulped down half of her water before she answered. “Yes. It's been about seven, eight years ago now. Julia Gallagher. I met her at Ballowiness—that's the local rec center in Rome. We were both really intelligent and really athletic. All these guys wanted her, but she never showed any interest in them whatsoever. After a couple weeks of friendship, she told me that those boys did nothing for her because she wanted me.”

Reena stopped speaking, and resumed her contemplation of her salad. But Jonah was hooked now; Reena rarely spoke on her past.

“Wasn't easy, I take it?” he asked unnecessarily.

Reena glanced up at Nelson and Tamara once more, and then returned her eyes to Jonah. “At first, it wasn't as hard as you might think,” she answered. “It wasn't like we were always together or anything; she went to the Trand High up I-40, coincidentally where Trip does most of his substitute teaching now,” Jonah snorted, “and I went to Caulfield High, the rival. We'd act like we were sworn enemies at meets, and then meet later at night in the town square or at Ballowiness and spend hours together. It was great…every second of it was great.”

Reena laughed softly, but ceased shortly thereafter. Jonah allowed her time to collect her thoughts, and then plunged once more.

“What happened?”

“I messed up, Jonah,” said Reena without hesitation. “I snuck a letter in her car one time. Lodged it in the steering wheel cover. Unfortunately, her dad was the one driving it that day.”

Jonah winced. Reena caught the expression and nodded.

“Yeah, it was like that,” she told him.

“So what did her father do?”

“Simply put, he went nuclear,” Reena replied. “He sent Julia to some fundamentalist bible camp. Paid for her to get therapy in Raleigh. Branded me scum after he found out how my family did me. Funny thing, though? Julia didn't stop seeing me. She even smuggled her phone into the stupid camp to talk to me at night. So her dad went below the belt. She'd gotten accepted into Princeton. It was no small feat, and it was her one-way ticket out of Rome, N.C. Her dad told her that if she didn't break up with me, he wouldn't pay the tuition.”

“Are you frickin' serious?” demanded Jonah.

“Oh yeah,” said Reena. “But even then, she refused. She was willing to go to LTSU to stay with me. She was going to blow off the Ivy League for me.”

Comprehension dawned on Jonah. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. Reena looked at him, which was enough to confirm his suspicion.

“You set her free.”

Reena nodded. “Hardest thing I've ever done, next to losing my uncle. I told her that I'd always love her, gave her this ring—,” she extended the last finger of her right hand and revealed a ring with a smooth surface that showed two female symbols joined at the stem, “—and told her to never lose faith in love.”

Jonah was stunned. “Profound words for an eighteen-year old,” he commented.

“I'm a profound woman, Jonah,” said Reena.

“So how come you have it back?” asked Jonah. “That ring, I mean. I've never seen it before.”

“You wouldn't have,” Reena muttered. “I just got it back two weeks ago. Julia sent it back to me, with a note attached that said that she hadn't lost faith in love, but she found it in the traditional way. She has some job in finance in Princeton, and she's also married, with a daughter on the way.”

At that moment, Jonah got summoned by someone for a conversation. He held up one finger. There was no way in hell he was going to leave Reena so bummed out and raw. Not when everyone else was elated.

“Was she trying to imply that she was going through a phase?” he questioned.

“Seems that way,” said Reena quietly. “But whatever. It's in the past. What do you always say? It was what it was.”

Jonah didn't buy that Reena was over it, but he felt like he got all that she was willing to give. He glanced at that ring. “I remember your ability to get people's essences off of objects,” he said. “Did you get any of her essence off that ring before you cleansed it?”

Reena looked at the ring and sighed. “I don't like being this way, Jonah,” she told him instead of answering. “Sometimes, I feel like if I could drop it, I would. I'd give anything to be…normal.”

“Now hold on Reena—” began Jonah with disbelief, but Reena interrupted him.

“Think about what I said before you respond, Jonah,” she said in a calm tone. “I do not mean my being gay.”

Jonah frowned, but then his expression cleared. “Oh,” he said. “You mean being an Eleventh Percenter.”

He knew that Reena had it rough. Her ethereality was a little different from his own (which had complexities that he still didn't understand), or their other best friend, Terrence, whose ethereality was almost purely strength-based. In addition to her preternatural speed and cold-spot ability, Reena was also a very powerful essence reader, and had to take certain measures to keep that sensitivity from overwhelming her. She was quite adept at it nowadays, but it still had to be a hassle at times.

“You don't need to think that way, Reena,” he said in a consoling tone. “You're fine just the way you are, friend. I'm sure that there is no one at the estate who would want you any other way. Everyone looks up to you; you're one of the leaders at the estate! And besides,” he waved an impatient hand, “what the hell is normal anyway? Who can define what that is? Don't you worry, Reena. Follow your own advice, and don't lose faith.”

Reena smiled faintly, and took Jonah's hand and gripped it. “You're a great friend, Jonah,” she said. “Terrence, too. Speaking of Terrence, do you know when he is returning from Maui?”

“Oh yeah,” said Jonah quickly. “Five days from now. He promised to come back and cook us all the dishes he sampled there. But never mind that now. I want you to cheer up, Reena! What do I have to do to help out with that?”

Reena's eyes widened slightly. “Anything?”

“Sure,” said Jonah without thinking.

Her expression went devilish. “Then I want you to go up there and do that stupid line dancing they've got going on right now. It just started, I was watching.”

Jonah's determination faded. “Are you serious?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied simply.

“But I can't dance!” protested Jonah.

“Then you're in luck,” snorted Reena, “because half of the people up there are too drunk to do much better than you.”

Jonah shook his head. “Reena, you don't want to see me dance,” he warned her. “You'll lose all respect for me.”

“Not possible, Jonah,” disagreed Reena. “We've been through too much. You did say you'd do anything.”

Jonah couldn't say anything. Reena nailed him. But it seemed that he'd had the desired effect. She no longer looked somber. In fact, she looked as if she anticipated seeing Jonah provide comedy on the dance floor.

Whatever.

“Fine, Reena,” he relented. “But there's one thing. I know that I owed you for dressing up and coming with me. If I do this, we're square, right?”

Reena sat back in her chair. “Depends on how amusing this is,” she replied. “Now as they used to say, go cut yourself a slice of rug!”

2 Movin'

On to the next task. Nelson's wedding was in the books, and he and Tamara were on their way to the Poconos for a two-week honeymoon. Jonah, meanwhile, worked in an urgency of his own as he busily packed the remaining items he planned to bring with him to the estate.

“Never thought I'd be doing this again,” he muttered to Reena as he zipped his gym bag. “I feel like I'm back home, nervous as hell, packing for undergrad.”

Reena slung another of Jonah's bags onto the couch and relaxed her weight on the side of it. “In many ways, you are doing just that,” she replied. “New life, new things.”

“Thankfully, it isn't all new,” said Jonah, more than relieved by that fact. “I know the people I'm living with, and I know where I'm staying. It's just being back in college again—with kids.”

“Jonah, it's not like you're forty years old in a class of eighteen-year olds that are barely out of pampers,” she deadpanned. “And just think—Bobby, Liz, and Douglas go to LTSU as well. They'll help you fit right in. Liz was overjoyed when she found out you would take her suggestion.”

It had been Liz Manville's idea that Jonah enroll at LTSU after his place of employment got pulverized. Jonah did it with very little protest, and he was anxious to get started in the Creative Writing program there. Also, he'd be an official full-time resident at the Grannison-Morris estate with his friends. Jonah also couldn't forget that it was a welcome distraction from what he'd recently experienced in the city. He'd come face to face, yet again, with Creyton, but that time, he was in a cunning disguise and had gone by his first name, Roger. Since Creyton had been disguised, he had easily infiltrated all their lives, and they had unwittingly provided almost every detail he needed to go through with his plans—

Jonah gave himself a mental shake. Why was he thinking about that now? It was over and done with. Plus he'd need all his wits about him on this new phase of life he was about to take.

“It was very nice and thoughtful of you to sublease your apartment to Nelson and Tamara,” said Reena.

“You have no idea,” said Jonah, thankful of the excuse to put his mind on other things. “I know that they will only be here a year at most, but Nelson was living in an efficiency studio; basically a glorified bachelor pad. You should have seen his face when Tamara asked to come back to his place the very first time. I'm doing him a favor, but he deserves it. Well, we'd better head on out now, friend.”

Jonah wrote a quick note for Nelson and left it on the kitchen counter for when he and Tamara returned from Pennsylvania. Then, after he tied up some loose ends with the landlord, he and Reena were off. Jonah had been steadily moving his stuff for the past three weeks, so the two gym bags in his trunk were the only things left that needed transport. There would be no usage of the Astralimes today, as Jonathan did not allow that power to be abused, so road trip it was. That was completely alright with Jonah, because the scenery on the highway, the sight of the quasi-urban buildings giving way to fields and trees, and the pleasant conversation with Reena whittled away the time most satisfactorily. Indeed, in no time at all, they were off the highway and at 927 Jay Houston Road, where their friends, Bobby and Alvin Decessio, resided.

“This is the address, isn't it?” asked Jonah, who uncertainly pulled into the driveway.

“You really think I'd let you get it wrong?” said Reena with narrow eyes.

“Oh yeah—of course not.”

“Let's go on in. Terrence will be showing up any minute, and of course, Bobby and Alvin will want to see you.”

When Jonah and Reena stepped out of the car, their muscles felt full of gratitude for being released from the space. Jonah regarded the Decessio home, and took in every detail.

It was a two-story brick house that was comfortably placed between a white house on the left and an aquamarine house on the right (Jonah wondered momentarily what that owner of the latter had been thinking). The porch was spacious enough for lounging, which put Jonah in mind of Fourth of July grilling and comfortable birthday parties. He had been raised in a small, five-room home, and had spent his adult years either in dorms or apartments, so he could see why Alvin, Bobby, and Terrence, who had been adopted into the family at thirteen, loved this house so much.

Jonah and Reena made it about four paces when they heard a shout of welcome from the family room, followed by the front door banging open. Bobby was out the door first, followed by his older brother Alvin, and they were followed by two people who could only be their parents.

Mr. Decessio was tall and burly, like an athlete who'd retired, but had taken the steps necessary to not go to seed. It was no mystery which parent Bobby took after the most. Mrs. Decessio was a slight-framed woman with a friendly face that was lined, but not hardened by any means. She vaguely reminded Jonah of some of the women his grandmother had been friends with in her church when he was younger. As the four of them came to greet him and Reena, Jonah noticed something else: Bobby had gotten his father's bulk, but his mother's height.

“Jonah!” said Bobby exuberantly. “Reena! 'Bout time you got here! How are you?”

He took Jonah's hand in both of his and shook vigorously, while Alvin gave Reena a hug. Mr. Decessio shook Jonah's hand next, and regarded him with interest.

“It's nice to finally put a face with a name, Jonah,” he said. “Terrence, Bobby, and Alvin have told us all about you. So is it true that you're going back to school?”

“Yes, sir,” said Jonah. “I'm getting back to my writing.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Decessio with sudden interest. “So you're going into the Creative Writing program. You had better keep focused in there; Bobby has told me all about how that woman who teaches it is quite a distraction.”

She threw a stern look at her youngest son, who stared back innocently.

“Mom, what's the problem with noticing a good-looking, single, older woman?” he asked.

“I'll answer that,” muttered Reena. “Liz.”

Bobby face went red. “Shut up,” he managed, but soon, all of them were laughing.

“How are you doing, Alvin?” asked Jonah.

“Doing well, thanks,” said Alvin in his usual preoccupied-sounding voice. “And also,” he added in an undertone as they stepped up the steps to the porch, “Bobby is way off. Calling Professor Rayne good-looking is a tragic understatement. She is gorgeous.”

Dear Lord, thought Jonah, I need to hurry up and meet this woman myself.

They all seated themselves in the chairs on the Decessio porch, where Mr. Decessio eyed Jonah once more.

“So Jonah,” he said, “where did you grow up, exactly?”

“In a town named Radner, sir,” responded Jonah. “It's in the northeastern part of the state, about twenty minutes from the state line.”

“Huh,” said Mr. Decessio. “Can't say I've ever heard of that place.”

Jonah snorted. “I assure you, sir, no one has heard of Radner but the two hundred people who have resigned themselves to live there,” he said.

Bobby looked at Jonah like he'd grown an extra limb. “You grew up in a town with only two hundred people?” he demanded.

“Yeah,” said Jonah, who widened his eyes in dramatic fashion. “Kind of makes Rome—with its population of five thousand people—seem like Nirvana, huh?”

Everyone laughed again, and Jonah randomly turned his head so as to crack the slightly stiff muscles there.

His face froze in that direction.

At the street corner, which was visible from the house, was a very tall hooded man. He was so tall that it seemed like the top of his head was almost level with the bottom of the stop sign. Jonah blinked, but in that space of time, the man was gone.

“Jonah, what's wrong?” asked Reena.

Jonah's gaze remained on that spot, despite the fact that there was no longer anything to see there. “Nothing,” he lied. “I—I just thought I saw Terrence.”

“Nope!” called a familiar voice. “Because I'm right here!”

They all turned, and the weird occurrence vanished from Jonah's mind. Terrence was there, with a big grin on his face. He was clad in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt almost as bright as his grin.

Everyone made a beeline for him, and there were hugs all around. Terrence laughed and seemed to brace himself so as to avoid being knocked over by the six people invading his personal space.

“Where did you come from, boy?” demanded a grinning Mrs. Decessio. “We were out here to greet you!”

“I know!” said Terrence mischievously. “I told the driver to pass by the house! I paid him extra to make a loop and drop me off a street over so I could sneak up on you!”

“You BUM!” laughed Bobby. He and Alvin grabbed Terrence's shoulders and practically marched him up the porch and into the house.

* * *

Terrence regaled them for hours on end with stories about the vacation. It was obvious that he enjoyed the rapt attention from everyone present. Terrence was giddy as hell as he described everything in great detail, using his deeply tanned hands to animatedly accentuate the most exciting points. Jonah couldn't help but feel a little jealous of his friend for two reasons. He had never even been on the western coast of the United States, let alone Hawaii. And he also knew that Terrence, who ate enough to feed a small football team, had undoubtedly tried every cuisine that was available. Hell, he probably had two helpings of everything. Despite that, he hadn't gained one pound to show for it. Terrence actually looked thinner than he had the last time they'd seen him. Jonah just couldn't understand how someone could have such bulletproof fat cells.

“You would not believe the people that just stay for weeks on end,” said Terrence with incredulity. “I mean, my brother and his family do that, of course, but he a retired, rich football star. Some of those other folks, though—they ain't famous or anything. Just retirees and whatnot.”

“I wouldn't mind retiring there,” said Mrs. Decessio longingly. “Just think, Arn; going to Hawaii for two or three whole months, and staying in one of those vacation rentals. Would be nice to get away from where everyone knows everything about you.”

Mr. Decessio smiled. “Now Connie, we've been here thirty-four years, and haven't ever had bad experiences living here.”

“No, we haven't,” conceded Mrs. Decessio. “Relocating from New Jersey to here was a great decision. But there isn't anything wrong with changing things up every now and again.”

Reena, who had been born in Hawaii and lived there for several years before her family relocated to Virginia, thumbed through Terrence's pictures with interest, while Bobby grilled Terrence about sports.

“Well, they do have rugby there,” Terrence remarked.

“Rugby?” said Bobby, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. “Did you play some?”

“What do you think?” Terrence asked. “Lloyd wouldn't have had it any other way. It's pretty sick and painful without those pads they have in football.”

Bobby's eyes narrowed. Jonah knew that if anyone questioned his beloved football, there would be hell to pay. Damage control time.

“We all know that the awesome vacation opportunity was only a small part of why you went,” he said to Terrence. “So how did the reconnection go with Lloyd?”

“Oh,” responded Terrence, and some of the elation replaced by seriousness. “We had plenty of time to talk. It turned out that he didn't share many of the opinions his parents had about me. It was a breath of fresh air to voice our views on things without that man and woman there to influence them.”

Terrence took a deep breath. It was clear to Jonah that his adoptive parents' treatment of him was still a sore subject.

“Anyway, he told me that now that he had his own wife and kids, he was pleased with his life and didn't want any more bad blood,” continued Terrence. “He wanted us to have the chance to be the brothers as adults that his parents didn't let us be as kids. So all is well, and the ill will is gone.”

“That's good to know, son,” said Mr. Decessio. “I appreciate the fact that Lloyd was mature enough to feel that way.”

“Besides all that,” said Bobby, whom Jonah was glad to see had been successfully distracted from the football jab, “you get to have four brothers now!”

“No complaints there,” snorted Terrence. “Family's growing by the second. Hey, Mom, what's good for dinner?”

Shortly thereafter, the majority of the conversation ceased due to the Mrs. Decessio's glorious meal of baked chicken, crescent rolls, potatoes, and salad, topped off with apple cobbler and vanilla ice cream. Reena happily partook in the chicken, salad, and potatoes, but respectfully declined the dessert. Jonah, Terrence, Bobby, and Alvin had no such reservations.

“Man, I shouldn't have eaten like that,” commented Jonah. “I feel like my system still hasn't fully recovered from that wedding food.”

Reena cast stern eyes on him, but she made no comments. It was a celebratory dinner, after all.

“Wonderful, Ma, as always,” said Bobby, who rose from the table and kissed Mrs. Decessio on the cheek. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go change into some looser pants, and then play some Madden.”

He left, and several minutes later, Alvin did, too. Reena offered to help with the dishes, but Mrs. Decessio, a self-proclaimed “kitchen general,” kindly passed on the assistance. So Jonah, Terrence, and Reena retreated to Terrence's bedroom, which was upstairs, and opposite Alvin's.

Jonah hadn't ever seen Terrence's room at his home, but it just looked like an extension of his room at the estate: Clothing strewn on the floor, across the bed, and across the weight bench near the window, an eclectic assortment of CDs that featured his beloved alt-rock and metal bands, a closet that appeared to be bursting at the seams, and, plastered across the wall near the bed, was the grinning depiction of his beloved Duke Blue Devils.

“Don't ever leave me alone in here,” scoffed Jonah. “I'm liable to burn that damn thing.”

Terrence flopped on the bed, and regarded the poster with reverence. “If you manage to succeed,” he replied, “I have another one in the closet, and two up in my room at the estate.”

“Oh great,” said Jonah, shaking his head. “Just great.”

“It's great to be home,” said Terrence as he rested his eyes.

“Really?” said Reena. “After being in Hawaii, you're glad to be back in Rome?”

“Don't get me wrong,” said Terrence, whose eyes were still closed. “I adored Hawaii. Adored everything about it. But I don't think I could do those two, three month vacations like rich folks do. Just seems like the novelty would wear off.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Jonah. “I would force myself to grow accustomed to extended vacations if I could afford them.”

“Well publish some of those books you've got, and Reena and I could follow you everywhere.”

“I wouldn't have to if you pitched an idea to the Food Network,” retorted Jonah.

Terrence flung a pillow at him, which sailed past his head and landed awkwardly on the edge of the chest of drawers near Terrence's window. Jonah reached for it, which allowed him to glance out of the window for a moment.

He saw the tall figure again. The man was at a different sign this time, and unless Jonah was mistaken, the figure, even from a distance, had his face trained in his direction.

Jonah blinked, but this time, it had no effect. The man wore a dark duster (which was odd by itself, seeing as how it was midsummer and there wasn't a chill in the air at all), and he was also hooded. Unlike Jonah's previous encounters with hooded, faceless figures, this person did have a face. The bottom half of the man's face was covered, similar to an old west bandit or something.

The figure also seemed tense, as if he fought the urge to lash out and attack someone or something. Jonah almost went into Spectral Sight (that was how he'd known something was up with Roger way back when), but he didn't. Terrence and Reena would know for sure that something was up.

“What say you, Jonah?” said Terrence's voice from somewhere. “Jonah?”

“Uh?”

“Jonah.”

It was as if someone slapped him, but then Jonah realized that he'd been hit with another one of Terrence's pillows.

“Huh? What?”

“I asked if you were up to playing some Madden with Bobby,” said Terrence. “You were completely zoned out.”

“Yeah,” murmured Jonah, who chanced a glance out of the window again, but saw no one. “Sorry.”

“You alright, man?”

“Oh yeah, of course,” said Jonah hastily. “I'm great.”

But then Jonah noticed, with a trace of apprehension, that Reena didn't have on her dampener, which meant that his essence was susceptible to reading. She gave Jonah a look that said, No, you aren't alright, but Jonah wasn't going to comply. Not today, at least. This was a happy occasion, and he wouldn't mar it with thoughts of suspicion and alarm.

“I'd love to play some Madden,” he said with conviction. “It'd be just the thing to change the mental pace.”

Jonah, Terrence, Reena, and Bobby spent three days at the Decessio residence, partly because Terrence wanted extra time with his parents, and partly because they were such pleasant company that no one really wanted to leave any sooner than that. At times, Jonah caught himself just observing Alvin's and Bobby's interactions with their parents; that whole “nuclear family” dynamic. It was also so admirable that they treated Terrence like another son. Like he'd been there all along, and hadn't been taken in as an adolescent. Jonah had only had his grandmother, and she was as wonderful a woman as could be. But her great qualities never extended to Jonah's extended family. To this day, they were pretty much strangers to him. This must be what a true family unit entailed. It was a great thing to behold. Jonah hoped that Alvin, Terrence, and Bobby knew what they had, and always appreciated it.

They were back at the estate around noon on a pleasant but very hot August day. Jonah never got tired of nor accustomed to the Grannison-Morris estate. The gardens were always pristine, and the innumerable trees that surrounded the estate never felt claustrophobic or off-putting. If anything, Jonah thought that it felt like protection. The trees seemed like a barrier to any extraneous forces that dared threaten any Eleventh Percenter here. At this moment, Jonah felt like he was in the safest place in the world, and that was no small feat, given some of the experiences he'd had since he'd discovered the place.

A shriek of delight jarred him from his thoughts, and he was nearly blown over by a blond blur. Someone had just run up and thrown themselves into Bobby's arms. Bobby, who didn't even seem to care about the fresh dirt that was now smeared on the back of his T-shirt, reciprocated the embrace, and lifted the girl off of her feet.

Jonah and Terrence looked at each other and shook their heads. It was Liz Manville; who else would have been so excited to see Bobby?

“Um, we're here, too, Liz,” laughed Reena, and Liz detached herself from Bobby. Bright-eyed and chipper as ever, Liz had to be playfully restrained by Reena before she bestowed an earth-laced hug on everyone.

“Oh, right.” The smile never left her face as she pulled off the filthy gloves, tossed them aside, and hugged everyone else. “I saw you coming up the drive!” she announced. “I think I trampled some flowers when I dropped them to run up here! Vera and I were collecting carnations for some of my new solutions.”

Jonah turned, and realized that Liz's zealous welcome had distracted everyone from the second figure, who'd approached at a more leisurely pace.

Vera was dressed for gardening, and was as dirtied up and sweaty as Liz was. She dispensed with her straw hat and smiled at everyone. Her face flushed somewhat when her smile reached Jonah. As Jonah took in Vera's brown-blonde hair that was pulled back in two haphazard bunches, as well as the barely noticeable scar that ran along the base of her jaw, he felt his own face warm. But he didn't think anything of it. It was a hot, sticky August day, and they were all feeling it. His face was warm because of the sun beating down on it, and Vera's face was flushed with color due to heat and gardening. Yeah, that was it.

“Hey all!” she said.

“Hey, Vera,” said Jonah, patting her shoulder. “How goes it?”

“I'm doing a lot better than the last time you saw me,” Vera joked, but she indeed looked like the picture of perfect health. The last time Jonah saw her, she'd been convalescing from two sprained wrists, cuts, and first-degree burns that she'd sustained after being taken hostage and having her ethereality abused. Which reminded Jonah of something.

“Vera, how is your training going?” he asked. “Jonathan said that he was going to help you better manage your ethereality.”

“Oh, Jonah,” said Vera with excitement, which Jonah thought was a rather odd response, because Jonathan made it seem like it'd be strenuous, “it's some of the most fun I've had in years! The spirits and guides that Jonathan put me with are awesome; they're even better than some of living teachers I had back in school! Oh, sorry—life never ends…anyway, I'm still a minute early for everything. There isn't anything that can be done about that.”

“Ah well,” said Jonah, “that sounds like a small price to pay.”

His attention shifted to Bobby. “So, are you two official now?”

Liz and Bobby grinned, but neither of them answered. They didn't have to.

“Although,” said Terrence shrewdly, “maybe we shouldn't be talking about them.”

His gaze slid downward, along with Liz's, Reena's, and Bobby's. Puzzled, Jonah and Vera followed suit. At some point in his conversation with Vera, Jonah's fingers descended from her shoulder and joined hers. Neither of them had noticed that they were freaking holding hands. The fact was made more comical by the fact that Vera, unlike Liz, hadn't removed her gardening gloves, so Jonah's bare fingers were entwined with Vera's filthy gloved ones. Embarrassed, they both let go. Everyone snickered, but Jonah noticed that hint of wistfulness in Reena's smile again.

“Let me get my last two bags in here,” he said, once again blaming the August weather for the heat in his face. “It's beyond time to get settled in.”

Before Jonah and Terrence reached Jonah's room, however, there were more friends to greet. Maxine Pearson waved from a corner, the usual Anime book in her hands. Magdalena Cespedes and Melvin Price broke their conversation and greeted them with hugs and high-fives. Royal Spader had changed his hair, which was no longer long and reddish-orange, but short, spiked, and jet black. He nodded glumly at Jonah and Terrence, and then returned to a game of solitaire. Jonah knew why he was of low spirits; he was no doubt dismayed that Liz and Bobby were now a couple, and he was doomed to continue his role as unrequited observer.

“And still, he wonders why Lizzie never notices him,” he sighed to Terrence. “Yeah, he's smart—exceptionally smart—but he uses that to con and finagle people out of money.”

“Jonah, Liz doesn't notice Spader because he is two years younger than her, dresses like a goth bum, and has yet to discover the benefits of a shaving razor,” said Terrence. “But he's seventeen; there are plenty of other girls—”

“None like Liz,” countered Jonah.

Terrence turned it over in his head. “That's true,” he conceded. “For Spader, anyway.”

They saw Karin Tanke and Grayson Morris, who didn't bother to acknowledge either of them. That didn't matter though, because Jonah wasn't pleased by their presence, either. He had neither the time nor the tolerance for lackeys.

Karin, a tall woman with vividly dyed red hair, and Grayson, a brawny bumpkin who wore a scowl almost as much as he wore clothing, were two friends (if you called sycophantic suck-ups friends) of Titus Rivers III, who preferred to be called Trip. Trip's and Jonah's hatred of one another was planted when they met, punctured earth when Jonah accidentally slugged him once in a training, and came into full bloom when Jonah saved his physical life from evil minions. Trip was a superb saxophonist and was a proficient Eleventh Percenter, with a power over sound. But beyond that, Jonah saw no redeeming qualities. Despite his brusque demeanor and sour disposition, he'd attracted cronies and admirers; Karin and Grayson were just two of them. They had no love for Jonah, especially at the present time, because he had been responsible for the revelation of an epic blunder that Trip made. The blunder resulted in heavy disciplinary action for Trip, who took a sabbatical from the estate to visit his mother in Orangeburg.

“So the bastard isn't back, huh?” asked Jonah.

“How should I know?” replied Terrence. “I just got back myself. But I'll take a stab in the dark and say no. They would look less angry if their Lord and Master graced us with his presence.”

When they finally reached the stairs, they saw Douglas Chandler, who looked as glum as Spader had. His black hair, which was usually cropped to a neat Caesar, had grown out somewhat and was pressed down in places due to Douglas's fingers.

“Hey, Doug,” greeted Jonah. “What's up with you?”

Douglas looked up at Jonah and Terrence so piteously that it wasn't even funny. “No takers for the chess club at LTSU,” he answered.

“That's it?!” said Terrence without tact. “That ain't a big—”

Jonah whacked him on the shoulder.

“Ow, I mean—Doug, that sucks.”

Luckily, Douglas hadn't noticed any of the interaction, as he'd buried his head in his hands again. “This is my senior year,” he groused. “I founded the club as a freshman, and nobody joined. Sophomore year, the same. A lovely girl joined last year, but she only did it because she needed to be a member of at least one club to be eligible for some cruise. She quit as soon as she got her passport.”

Terrence looked at Jonah as though he saw him in a new light. Jonah returned the look, puzzled, but then he realized the reason. He mouthed, “No!” to Terrence, but it didn't matter.

“Jonah is at LTSU now, Doug! He can join your club!”

Jonah narrowed his eyes at Terrence, who smirked, but Douglas was completely oblivious. He looked at Jonah with renewed hope.

“R-Really?” he cried. “Jonah, do you play chess?”

“Dude, the closest I've ever come to chess was when I accidentally knocked a pawn into a paint can in high school,” said Jonah. “I don't know a thing about the game.”

“Doesn't matter!” dismissed Douglas, “You don't even have to play! I promise you that! Just join, please!”

In what he must have thought was a surreptitious gesture, Douglas moved his hand from Jonah's line of sight and crossed his fingers. With another dark look at Terrence, Jonah heard himself say, “All right, Douglas. I'll join your—club. It'd be an honor.”

Douglas's smile resembled a child who'd just received candy and crayons. “Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you so much! You won't regret this, Jonah!”

He rose and dashed off.

“He was so happy,” commented Terrence. “I thought he was gonna wet his chinos.”

“Tell me,” grunted Jonah as they went upstairs, “why exactly am I your friend again?”

“Because without me, you'd be socially awkward,” replied Terrence, “and you'd lack the proper motivation to do good deeds for people, like Doug!”

Jonah rolled his eyes. “Terrence, I'm going to get Malcolm to make me a ball bat, and then I'll beat you with it.”

“Well, if you give me two weeks, I can do that,” said a voice.

Malcolm had just exited a bathroom when Jonah and Terrence passed it, where he'd just finished placing a wooden swan over the sink. He had another creation in tow; symmetrical hands joined in prayer atop a marble foundation.

“Like it?” asked Malcolm when he noticed Jonah's and Terrence's eyes on it. “Reverend Abbott's birthday is coming up, so I thought I'd make him a little something.”

“Huh,” said Terrence. “What is that, the seventh?”

Malcolm smirked. “Yeah, actually,” he answered.

Jonah just laughed. Malcolm was a perfectionist. He'd craft and re-craft creations dozens of times before he declared himself pleased.

“Keep it up, Malcolm,” said Terrence.

Finally, they reached Jonah's room. That was awesome for Jonah; with all the starts, stops, and socializing, his shoulder and arms began to protest against the travel bag. He dropped it on the floor, flexed his arm, and sat down. He was only mildly surprised when he felt movement near his feet.

“Hey, Bast,” he said. “Great to see you, too.”

Pleased to be acknowledged, Bast stretched and settled near his feet. “I hope that your travels were enjoyable, Jonah,” she intimated. “And Terrence, how was Maui?”

“Bast, you have no idea—”

Terrence's words were interrupted by Reena, who slipped into the room and shut the door.

“Alright, Jonah,” she said, her face two parts concerned and two parts intractable. “Now, you are going to tell us what had you so rattled back at Terrence's parent's house.”

Terrence, initially annoyed by the interruption, now look baffled, but Jonah shook his head. He knew Reena had picked up on his essence. He'd just half-hoped she'd let it go. Nope.

“Wait, what happened at my house?” asked Terrence. “Did Mom and Dad do something?”

“No, Terrence, it had nothing to do with them,” said Jonah. His eyes never left Reena, and hers never left him. “Before the cab dropped you off, I saw a man at the stop sign. He vanished when I looked again, so I thought my eyes were just playing tricks on me or something. But then I saw him again when we were all in your bedroom, ragging on Duke. I looked out of the window and saw him again. He was there just a little bit longer that time, but he vanished again.”

“There was a man at my house?” demanded Terrence.

“No, Terrence, not exactly,” said Jonah. “It was almost like—like he was there for me or something. I don't know.”

“What did he look like?” inquired Reena.

“Tall,” said Jonah. “Like, really tall; 6'8” or 6'9” or something. He had on a black duster, a dark hooded shirt, black boots, and half of his face was covered, like a cowboy bandit.”

Reena's breath caught, and her eyes widened. Terrence looked at her in confusion.

“What does that mean?” he asked, but Reena ignored him. Her eyes were still on Jonah.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Jonah answered. “What's wrong, Reena?”

For some reason, Bast looked tense as well. She slunk over to Reena, who'd sighed and freed her hair from its clasp. She put her hands to her forehead, like her mind was frontloading information before she could actually process it. This reaction had Jonah quite unnerved at this point.

“Reena,” he attempted, “what does that mean? What is the matter?”

“The outfit you described,” she said slowly, “it's not good. Jonah, this is not good. You just described the attire of a Spirit Reaper.”

Jonah and Terrence looked at each other.

“What?” said Jonah. “Spirit Reaper?”

“And not just any Spirit Reaper,” Reena continued. “That's the attire of the Spirit Reapers who followed Creyton.”

3 ScarYous

Jonah stared at her.

“Spirit Reaper?”

“Yes,” nodded Reena.

“One of Creyton's?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Jonah looked over at Terrence, whose shock mirrored his own. He shook his head. “No, Reena, Creyton is gone. Vanquished.”

“I didn't say Creyton,” said Reena impatiently, “I said followers. He had a bunch of them, after all.”

“He had a bunch of followers?” Jonah demanded. “He used minions! Stupid spirits!”

“Not always, Jonah,” said Terrence out of nowhere. “He had other Eleventh Percenters for the longest time. But then…he just stopped. Started using minions. I'm guessing that Creyton planned to recall them at some point, but—then you took him out. Then you took him out a second time.”

Jonah looked down at those words. He didn't enjoy thinking about coming across Creyton in disguise. “So I take it that they are probably still around somewhere, angry and confused about being leaderless. But I wonder what this particular guy's thing is. Is he stalking me? Is it a vendetta?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” answered Reena. “But we need to talk to Jonathan, and he can contact the Networkers.”

“Networkers?”

“They monitor and police ethereal crimes,” explained Reena. “Has anyone told you about the Phasmastis Curaie?”

“I did,” mumbled Terrence.

“That's the Spectral High Court,” continued Reena. “Ethereal crimes aren't handled by Tenth police, obviously. Spectral Law practitioners do that. Go one step above their pay grade, and you have the Networkers.”

Jonah gave a shaky laugh. “And Networkers is the best term they could come up with for themselves?”

“Don't joke about them, Jonah,” said Terrence in an uncharacteristically serious voice. “The Networkers call themselves that term on account of the vast network they have and need to do their jobs. They are like—the elite of the elite. Dad, Raymond and Sterling are full of praise and respect for them.”

“Got it,” said Jonah. “So Jonathan can contact them, nab this freak, and we'll all be okay. I won't worry about it. I've spent too much time worried as it is.”

Terrence looked convinced, but Reena, even with the dampener around her neck, didn't appear to have taken in one word of Jonah's proclamation. To be honest, neither did Jonah.

Jonah was honest about being tired of worrying, but that didn't stop him from feeling as such. It unnerved him, seeing that weird man standing there, so still that he could have been marble. To see him in a neighborhood of such great people like Terrence's parents almost made Jonah ill, but the he remembered: Anyone who had past dealings with Creyton would be looking to take him out. Terrence's parents could very well be safe, because they weren't the ones who screwed up the evil agenda. That distinction was Jonah's alone.