“I don’t know what all the fuss is about, actually.” Jones lifted his right hand in front of his face and regarded his palm, displeased.

His eyes still twinkled in his head like almond stars; the corners of his mouth curved upward in a cruel, sneering smile. Again he turned those beautiful, bright eyes towards me.

“You’ll still feed me of course,” he said authoritatively, “but none of that can...