Chapter 36: Foothold

Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws. - Plato

I head out into the hallway. The living room is the next open area to the right. Stepping through the archway, I call out to him in a hushed tone, "Morph?"

He's crouched in the corner by the couch.

"What's wrong, buddy?"

Halfway to the sofa, Morph hisses. He voices a low, throaty growl. We're not alone.

"Hello Sarah."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I spin around on the balls of my feet.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd come home."

"John Spencer." The hair on the back of my neck prickles, standing on end.

"The one and only."

"John Spencer, leave this house."

"That parlor trick won't work on me now."

The blood drains from my face. "Why not?"

"Let's just say, I'm immune to your control." He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. "Now, you will give me what I want."