"I don't believe it." Face drained of what little color remained, Ghent staggered back with Elayra. "Morbid Miles just tried to kidnap us!" Up until now, he'd never a reason to use the title. The addition of 'Morbid' was something he overheard Mrs. Saxon say. 
	"[i]Blasted kids,[/i]" Miles gripped the steering wheel tighter, visibly agitated by Elayra's refusal. Squeezing his eyes shut, he mumbled incoherently to himself before leaning out the window. "Wait! I can take you there," this time, he tried to make this sound less like a threat and more like an invitation, but it did little to calm Ghent's imagination. 
	"Nah, we're good!" Ghent flashed a not-too-convincing grin, waving to keep things friendly. Had it not been raining, he would have been perspiring from nerves alone. In his mind, 'morbid' translated to 'insane' and he didn't fancy finding out if the man deserved such a name. "Thanks anyway!" 
	When Miles didn't respond and leaned over towards the glove compartment, Ghent felt his stomach flip. 
	"Oh [i]no[/i]. No, not good! I think he's got a gun!" Although he wanted to, Ghent refrained from breaking into a run. Miles was more unstable than usual, he could shoot on impulse.
	"Quick! What was the spell you taught me?" Desperate, Ghent turned his attention to Elayra, believing that a well aimed bolt would be more than enough to scare the drunkard off. The wording of the question didn't sit quite right with him, so Ghent was quick to rephrase it.
	"Well, actually, [i]you[/i] didn't teach me..." Despite being crippled with fear two seconds ago, Ghent smirked at the memory and buffed his fingernails against his hoodie. "[i][b]I[/b][/i] taught myself that one. Guess those're the perks, being The Hatter's son and all."
	While Ghent was busy bragging on his newly discovered heritage, Miles exited the still-running vehicle, pistol in hand. "Don't move!" He waved the weapon to draw attention, graying hair sticking to his face in every which direction. "Ghent! You're going to hear me out, boy!"
	Ghent recoiled in shock. For once in his life, he'd been right to jump to conclusions. Miles really [b]did[/b] have a gun. "Whoa! Okay, calm down!" Voice a pitch higher than usual, he raised both hands to surrender, motioning for Elayra mimic the action. "Elayra, seriously. Don't antagonize him!"
	Too late. Miles was antagonized. "[i]Quiet![/i] Rehearsal's over." Both hands shaking, Miles gripped the pistol, his intense gaze flickering between both teenagers. Unlike before, he was no longer hunched over, he was standing at his full height. "I know where you're really going...and I'm coming with."