Before he could put his phone away, it rang. Raising an eyebrow at the number on the screen, he flipped it open, pressing it to his ear. “Uncle Abraham. Did I forget something?”
A strange tightness settled into his chest. He liked his uncle, but was still slightly afraid of him. He never knew what to expect when Abraham opened his mouth. And Abraham never called him. Ever. In fact, if Paty hadn’t added his number to Joss’s contact list last summer, Joss wouldn’t have recognized the number at all. He slid down in his seat a little and waited for the tightness in his chest to subside.
“No, Joss, but I’m afraid that I did.” Abraham’s voice sounded warmer in tone than it had all summer. The flight attendant waved a hand at Joss and pointed to the phone as if to tell him that it was time to put his phone away, but Joss held up a finger in response. He needed two seconds for this phone call. Besides, the guy across the aisle was still using his laptop. Couldn’t she go bug him? “I didn’t get a chance to thank you, nephew.”
Joss didn’t mention it, but there were many chances to say something while they were at the brownstone. They’d shared two dinners after fighting off the vampires in the park. Why couldn’t he say anything then? But then, Joss was feeling a bit shocked that his uncle had called at all, let alone to thank him for something, so his mind was all over the place.
Abraham said, “You were given a task that, to date, none in the Society had been able to complete. And you pulled it off. I’m proud of you. I just wanted to say that.”
Joss sat back in his seat, his jaw dropping into his lap. Compliments and gratitude were two things that just didn’t seem to fit with his uncle’s personality. Being on the receiving end of both combined was enough to send Joss into a state of utter shock. His fingers loosened, sending the phone falling. Luckily, it landed in his lap and was easily retrieved. As he pressed the receiver to his ear again, he said, “Thank you, Uncle. Seriously. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
Abraham paused, as if he wanted to say more, and Joss wondered briefly what that more might have been. Criticism? Further admiration? Did he dare question? “Keep up the good work, Joss. I’m headed to London in the next few weeks. I’ll be sure to pass on details of your triumph to the Society elders. Have a good flight. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Thanks.” The word escaped Joss in a near-whisper. He snapped the phone closed and, much to the flight attendant’s relief, powered it down. A fog of wonder curled in around his mind. He’d left home at the beginning of the summer a divided person: Joss the boy, Joss the Slayer. But he was going home knowing who he was and where he belonged.
He was a member of the Slayer Society. And everything he did, and had done, was for the good of mankind.
And, of course, for Cecile.
Heather Brewer, Second Chance
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