The Reverence of One: Book Three of the Shadow Series by J.M. Pierce Page B

slammed his car door shut and headed for the building.
    Cliff followed from a short distance, admiring the complex , and was pleased that his grandson appeared to be doing okay for himself. He followed Thad into the building and waited by his side as he unlocked the first door on the left.
    The two of them entered the room, and after two steps, Cliff froze. Before him was a small wall filled with photographs. In the center picture was a man and a woman, both appearing to be in their mid to late fifties.
    “Good lord,” he whispered to himself. “ It’s Elijah.”
    The old man instantly broke down in tears. Seeing a picture of his son after all this time brought about emotions so strong that he couldn’t have even fathomed their existence. He stepped closer and admired what a handsome man he’d grown to be. Elijah’s skin was four shades lighter than his own, an obvious result since his mother had white supple skin. With her having been a red head, Cliff had tried to imagine what Elijah’s hair would look like, and he was somewhat surprised that it showed little if any of his ex-wife’s influence. Smiling happily next to his son in the photograph was a beautiful black woman with a smile that Cliff was sure could light up any room.
    “Nice catch, boy,” Cliff muttered with a tearful chuckle.
    The sound of a can being opened broke Cliff from his stupor. He glanced out into the small living room to see Thad leaning back on the sofa with a beer in his hand. He looked at the clock which told him it was only nine a.m., and shook his head in disapproval. A quick reflection on his alcoholic past made him hope that the gift wasn’t the only thing his grandson had inherited from him.
    Cliff took a seat beside Thad on the couch. On the coffee table in front of the young man was a notebook with a bunch of handwriting. In a quick jolt, Thad lunged forward and picked up the notebook as well as a pen that had sat beside it, and began to write. When finished, he threw it back to the coffee table and tipped the beer can back sharply. Cliff watched as Thad took several large gulps, the can burping air, and then leaned forward to read what his grandson had written.
    The lined paper had hand drawn bulle t points, and next to each were barely legible words scribbled in black ink . Cliff read them slowly.
            Old green sign with white lettering. Paint peeling.
            Brick building
            Dirty
            Girl with long straight black hair, skinny and white
            Indian
            Blue and red light , one flash
            Girl knows grandpa
            WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS MEAN?????
    Cliff recoiled in shock as he connected the dots. The girl with long straight black hair was Nicole. The brick building with the old green sign was her apartment building. The Indian, the blue and red flash; he knew immediately who the man in Thad’s vision was.
    Ikuhabe was a formidable Reaper, but one that he’d thought Test had killed. He thought back to the moment when Anil was defeated and tried to remember Ikuhabe’s body being present. He could not. It was possible, he surmised, that there was yet another Native American Reaper, but something within told him that this enemy had returned. But for what? Why would they want Nicole? She was nothing more than a figment of Test’s past.
    Suddenly, a sickening thought struck him.
    “They’re trying to bring him out of hiding,” he muttered. “Dear Lord, they’re going to use her as bait.”
    Cliff turned to his grandson and watched as he emptied the beer can, crushing it while still holding it to his lips as if to squeeze out every last drop. Though he wanted to introduce himself slowly, Cliff now found himself with an unknown time frame in which to save Nicole. Drugs had suddenly become the least of her concerns.
    With as much energy as he could pull from the room, Cliff tried to force himself to be seen. The lines