Page 134 of Villains Series

TWO WEEKS AGO

EON

ELI studied the footage again, and again.

The mission at the National should have been simple.

But nothing about Marcella Riggins was proving simple.

“You should be celebrating,”

said Victor’s ghost.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Eli didn’t answer. He focused on the footage from the scene, advanced the surveillance one frame at a time, watching as the glass shattered, the bullet—which should have taken Marcella in the back of the head—ricocheted, sparking off an invisible shield.

Eli paused the footage there, rapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table.

The odds of a single EO possessing more than one power were slim to none. No, it was far more likely, he surmised, that this particular skill belonged to the third, as yet unidentified EO, the one lurking like a shadow at the very back of the room.

Three EOs, working together—that itself was unusual. The vast majority were loners, isolated by either necessity or choice. Few looked for others, let alone found them.

“We did,”

observed Victor.

It was true. Both Eli and Victor had arrived at the same conclusion—that there was strength in numbers, potential in the complementary pairing of powers.

Now, apparently, so had Marcella.

Eli rolled the footage forward and watched her step through the hail of bullets onto the balcony. Watched as every single shot ricocheted. Watched as she raised her own gun in the general direction of the sniper.

There was something so brazen about the gesture …

EOs ran.

EOs hid.

Under pressure, an EO might fight back.

But they didn’t do this.

Didn’t perform.

Didn’t use their powers with such obvious relish.

EOs were broken by definition, made reckless by the absence, the emptiness, the knowledge that their lives were over. It drove them to steal, to ruin, to self-destruct.

Marcella wasn’t self-destructing.

She was preening. Baiting them. Daring them to try again, try harder.

She had taken out her husband—and that made sense, an act of revenge. Of closure. But then, she’d taken out his competition. That wasn’t the mark of someone with nothing to lose. No, that was the mark of someone with something to gain. That was ambition. And ambition plus power was a very dangerous combination.

What would she do, if left unchecked?

The phantom in his head was right—he’d asked for a sign that he was needed, that this was right.

Marcella couldn’t be allowed to continue in this manner.

And soon Stell would realize, if he hadn’t already, that Eli was the only one who could put her down.

Footsteps sounded from beyond the fiberglass, and he looked up from the computer as Stell appeared on the other side of the wall.

“There you are,”

said Eli, rising to his feet.

“I’ve gone through all the footage from the failed execution, and we’re obviously going to need a much more tailored approach, especially considering there are…”

Eli trailed off as Stell set a new case file in the tray.

“What’s that?”

“We got a hit on a suspected EO two hours south of Merit.”

Eli frowned.

“And Marcella?”

“She isn’t the only target we’re tracking.”

“But she’s the most dangerous,”

said Eli.

“And in the last three days she’s collected two more. What are we going to do about—”

“We aren’t going to do anything,”

said Stell shortly.

“Your job is to analyze the files I give you. Or have you forgotten that you exist at the mercy of EON?”

Eli clenched his teeth.

“There are three EOs working together in Merit, and you’re just going to ignore them?”

“I’m not ignoring anything,”

countered Stell.

“But we can’t afford another failed op. Marcella and her partners need to be handled cautiously. You have two weeks to devise that more tailored approach you spoke of.”

Eli drew up short.

“Why two weeks?”

Stell hesitated at that. “Because,”

he said slowly.

“that is how long I’ve given her to prove her worth as an asset.”

Eli reeled.

“You made a deal? With an EO?”

“The world is not black and white,”

said Stell.

“Sometimes there are other options.”

“Where were mine?”

snapped Eli.

“The lab or the cell—those are the only ones I was given.”

“You killed forty people.”

“And how many has she killed already? How many more lives will she destroy by the time you see fit to put her down?”

Stell didn’t answer.

“How could you be so stupid?”

“You will remember your place,”

warned Stell.

“Why?”

demanded Eli.

“Tell me why you would make a deal with her.”

But Eli knew. Of course he knew. This was how far Stell was willing to go to keep him in this cage, contained, controlled.

“What did you mean,”

he said through gritted teeth.

“when you said her worth as an asset?”

Stell cleared his throat.

“I’ve given her a mission. A chance to succeed where you have failed.”

Eli stilled. No. The open file. The unsolved case. Victor.

“The hunter is mine,”

he growled.

“You’ve had two years,”

said Stell.

“Perhaps it’s time for fresh eyes.”

Eli didn’t realize he’d approached the fiberglass until he slammed his fist against it.

This time, the gesture wasn’t calculated. It was pure rage, a moment of violent emotion turned to violent action. Pain flashed through him, and the wall hummed in warning, but Eli’s hand was already falling away.

Stell’s mouth twitched, a grim smile.

“I’ll leave you to your work.”

Eli watched the director go until the wall went white, and then he turned and slumped back against it, sliding to the floor.

All of his patience, his subtle pressures. The ground beneath him shuddered, threatened to break. One misstep, and it would crumble, and he would lose Victor and Marcella both, and with them, justice, closure, and any hope of freedom. It might already be too late.

He studied the back of his hand, where a single smear of blood marred the knuckles.

“How many will die for the sake of his pride?”

mused Victor.

Eli looked up and saw the phantom standing over him again.

He shook his head.

“Stell would rather let the city burn than admit that we are on the same side.”

Victor stared at the wall as if it were still a window.

“He doesn’t know how patient you are,”

he said.

“Doesn’t know you like I do.”

Eli cleaned the blood from his hand.

“No,”

he said softly.

“No one ever has.”