It was starting. I could feel something change. I’d been on edge, paranoid for days. There was too much déjà vu: the house, the location … I’d seen an Eraser paw and an Eraser face. Even the black Jeep reminded me of the first time the Erasers attacked our old house. We’d been on the run ever since.

It was almost like the nightmare of the past year was about to start all over again.

“Okay, guys,” I said tightly, “let’s fan out. Hide high in trees, watch and see what happens. Check the sky for choppers; make sure the Jeep’s sunroof doesn’t open. When I give the signal, we attack. Aim for the Jeep’s windows. Break ’em.”

“Right,” said Gazzy, his face determined.

Almost silently, we ran hunched over to the other side of the roof, farthest from the road. I couldn’t believe this was happening. We’d barely been at the house a week… .

I coiled my muscles, just about to jump — but then Angel cocked her head. “Wait — hold on, Max. I think … it’s Jeb.”

“Jeb?” Nudge said in disbelief.

Angel straightened and nodded her head. “Yeah, it’s Jeb. We don’t have to attack him, do we?”

I groaned to myself. As much as Jeb now claimed he was trying to help us, help me, I could never trust him again. It was like he woke up and said, “Oh, today’s Tuesday, an evil day.” Or “Friday again — guess I’ll be a white hat.” His shifting loyalties made my head spin.

“Is he alone?” I asked.

Angel looked thoughtful for a moment. “No.”

“Great.” I sighed. “No, I guess we don’t have to attack him. But keep an eye on whoever’s with him. It’s not my mom, is it?” I asked, suddenly hopeful.

Angel shook her head. “Sorry.”

The Jeep pulled up at the base of our house’s supports, and I jumped down to the ground to meet it. (You could get into our house only by flying or climbing a long ladder that we let down. Or not. That little design feature had been my idea.)

The driver’s door opened, and Jeb got out. At one time he’d been my savior, my teacher, my confidant. Now he was mostly just someone to be wary of — and, apparently, my biological father. But his contributing a cell to a test tube didn’t make me all misty eyed and eager to forgive. He would never feel like a father to me — not anymore.

“Jeb,” I said evenly. “I guess Mom told you where we were, how to find us?” Inexplicably, my mother still trusted Jeb. And I trusted my mom. Which was the only reason Gazzy wasn’t under the Jeep right now, rigging a detonator.

“Yes,” Jeb said. “She’s getting a team together for another CSM mission — I’ll have to tell you all about it later.”