Chapter 20: The Shadows of the Porch

The walk from the Honda Pilot to the front door of the Victorian fixer-upper felt like a trudge through rising water. Noah was still buzzing from the kiss—the warmth of Katherine’s skin, the frantic, melodic thrum of her heart against his chest. For a few seconds on that porch, he hadn't been a relic of the 19th century or a predator in hiding. He had just been a boy.

But as he reached the top step, the air curdled.

The temperature didn't just drop; it died. A sensation like a million microscopic needles pricked at the back of his neck, a phantom pain that felt like being flayed alive. It was a psychic weight he hadn't felt in decades, a localized gravity that told him exactly who was lurking in the oak trees bordering the lawn.

"What do you want now, Ethan?" Noah asked, his voice flat and exhausted. He didn't turn around immediately. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the door, letting out a heavy, jagged sigh.

"You already know what I want," a voice hissed from the dark.

Noah turned slowly. Ethan was leaning against a porch pillar, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight. He wasn't smirking anymore. His face was a mask of cold, ancient fury.

"I lost her, too, Ethan," Noah mumbled, his brow furrowing. "Every night for a hundred and sixty years, I’ve seen the fire. I’ve heard the screams. You aren't the only one who carries the weight of Leila Pierce."

"You killed her," Ethan hissed, stepping into the light. His eyes were dark pits of resentment. "You led the butchers right to her doorstep. You brought the torches and the stakes, Noah. You might as well have lit the match yourself."

"I made a judgmental call!" Noah’s voice cracked, the centuries of guilt bubbling to the surface. "I was seventeen! I was a day old! I didn't know my father had joined the hunting parties. I thought I was going home to say goodbye to my mother, not to lead a massacre."

"All you had to do was stay in that house!" Ethan shouted, his voice vibrating with a power that made the porch windows rattle. "We had a plan! We were supposed to be gone by dawn!"

Noah straightened up, his own eyes beginning to glow with a dull, emerald light. "How do you even know where I was? How do you know I went back?"

Ethan let out a harsh, jagged laugh. "Because Leila told me everything. She told me that Eliza was in love with you—that the four of us were going to be a family. Two sisters, two best friends who were like brothers. We were going to disappear into the West and live happily ever after in the shadows."

Noah froze. The world seemed to go silent for a heartbeat. “She said Elizabeth loved you.”

"Right, Ethan answered, stepping closer, his teeth bared in a snarl. "Sure she did. Why does that matter now? Leila loved me. I was the one she chose to turn first. I heard you were starting to court Eliza in those final weeks. Is that why you went back? To get a trinket for your new bride?"

Noah let out a dry, mirthless snort. "People don't say 'court' anymore, Ethan. It’s 2023."

"I know what the hell they call it!" Ethan roared, rolling his eyes with a violent jerk. "I just don't care! The terminology doesn't change the betrayal!"

"Why can't you see the bigger picture?" Noah asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous frequency. "After all this time, can't you see what she was doing?"

"What picture, Noah? Enlighten me."

"Leila played us both," Noah answered, shaking his head. "She was a master of the game. She told you Eliza loved me, so you wouldn't be jealous of the time she spent with me. She told me the same thing about you. She was courting us both, Ethan. She lied to our faces every single night."

Ethan’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second. He shook his head slowly, a look of desperate disbelief crossing his features. "That’s not true," he whispered. "Leila loved me. You were just the 'human project.' You were her pet, and you hated that. You hated me because she chose me to be her eternal partner, not you."

"Leila never loved either one of us," Noah replied, his voice heavy with a grim realization he had reached a century ago. "She loved the chase. She loved the drama of two best friends falling for the same monster. She was using us to fill the void of her own endless life."

"Stop it!" Ethan shouted, moving with a speed that blurred the air. He slammed Noah back against the front door, his fingers digging into Noah's shoulders like iron talons. He hissed, his fangs fully descending, his face contorting into something truly demonic. "Stop trying to get into my head!"

"Enough! Both of you!"

The voice was like a whip-crack.

The front door swung open from the inside, and Veronica stood there. She wasn't wearing her doctor’s scrubs; she was in a simple black silk robe, her arms crossed over her chest. Her light blue eyes were cold and commanding, radiating an aura of power that made even Ethan recoil a step.

Ethan recovered quickly, his snarl twisting back into a sarcastic smirk. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the uptight wannabe big sis. What’s up, Doc? Come to check our vitals?"

Veronica snorted, rolling her eyes with practiced boredom. "Is that seriously the best you can do, Ethan? A 'Doc' joke? You’ve had over a century to work on your material, and that’s the punchline you lead with?"

"Hey, I tried," Ethan responded with a lazy, arrogant shrug.

"I’ve heard plenty about you from Noah," Veronica said, stepping onto the porch and placing herself firmly between the two men. "And I have to say, I’m disappointed. I expected a formidable rival. Instead, I see a bitter boy who’s spent a hundred years throwing a temper tantrum."

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "I haven't heard a word about you. But I’ll say this—I’ve been watching the two of you since you hit the Virginia border."

"Wow," Veronica sighed, her voice dripping with mock-exhaustion. "That is super creepy. What are you supposed to be, the discount Edward Cullen? Stalking is so 2008, Ethan. Get a hobby. Try pottery. Or therapy."

Ethan rolled his eyes, but Noah could see the agitation beneath the surface. Veronica had a way of making the most dangerous predators feel small.

"Just go," Noah said, his voice quiet but firm. He looked Ethan in the eye—the friend he once would have died for. "Leave me alone. Leave this town. You’ve had your fun. You scared me, you crashed my date. Good job. You win the 'jerk of the century' award."

Ethan’s evil grin returned, slow and cold. He backed away toward the steps, melting into the shadows of the overgrown shrubbery. "Like I said, old friend. I want revenge. Not just a scare. I want to watch you lose everything, just like I did." He looked toward the direction of Katherine’s house, his eyes gleaming. "I’m going to get it... eventually. Enjoy your little 'romance' while it lasts, Noah. The clock is ticking."

With a sudden, violent gust of wind that sent dead leaves swirling across the porch, Ethan was gone.

Noah stood in the silence, his heart—the one that shouldn't have been beating—feeling like a lead weight in his chest. Veronica placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch firm and grounding.

"He's a parasite, Noah," she whispered. "Don't let him feed on your peace."

Noah looked out into the dark woods. "He’s not going to stop, Vee. He’s going after Katherine."

"Then we make sure he doesn't get to her," Veronica replied, her eyes flashing with a predatory steel. "But first, we go inside. We have to plan. Because if Ethan Matthews wants a war in Covington, we’re going to give him one he won't survive this time."

Noah nodded, but as he stepped over the threshold into the house, he couldn't shake the feeling that the "fresh start" he had wanted was already turning into a bloodbath. He thought of Katherine’s kiss, and for the first time in his long life, he felt a true, human fear—not for himself, but for the girl who had no idea she was dating a ghost with a target on his back.