Page 165 of Villains Series

AFTER

STELL’S APARTMENT

VCTOR ran his fingers over the surface of his phone.

11:45 p.m.

Fifteen minutes until midnight, and he was not on his way out of town.

Victor settled back into the worn armchair, tuning the dials of his own nerves, to test their strength. Haverty’s serum had worn off a few hours before—it had been like a limb returning to feeling, nerves initially pins-and-needles sharp before finally settling back under control.

But as Victor’s power returned, so had the humming in his head, the crackle of static. The beginnings of another episode. But only the beginnings. That was the strange thing—before stepping into the storage locker, his limbs had been buzzing, the current minutes from overtaking him. When Haverty’s serum suppressed his power, it had suppressed the episode, too. Reset something, deep inside Victor’s nervous system.

He drew a vial from his coat pocket—one of six that he’d collected from Haverty’s storage locker. ts contents were an electric blue, even in the darkness of the empty apartment.

The liquid represented an extreme solution, but it also represented progress.

He’d have to be mindful—each time Victor used the serum, he would be trading a death for a window of vulnerability, a period without powers—but he was already making notes—plans, really.

Perhaps, with the right dosage, he could find a balance. And perhaps was more than Victor had had to work with in a very long time.

His phone lit up—he had switched it to silent, but it still flashed brightly, a familiar number on the screen.

Sydney.

Victor didn’t answer.

He watched the screen until it gave way again to darkness, then slipped the phone in his pocket as footsteps sounded beyond the door. A few seconds later, the rattle of a key in the lock, and Stell limped into view, one foot encased in a medical boot. He tossed his keys into a bowl, didn’t bother turning on the lights, just hobbled to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

The director of EON had the liquor halfway to his lips when he finally realized he wasn’t alone.

He set the drink back down.

“Victor.”

To his credit, Stell didn’t hesitate, simply drew a gun and aimed it at Victor’s head. Or at least, he meant to. But Victor stilled the man’s hand.

Stell grimaced, fighting the invisible weight around his fingers. But it was a battle of wills, and Victor’s would always be stronger.

Victor lifted his own hand, turning it, and like a puppet, so did Stell, until his gun was resting against his own head.

“t doesn’t have to end like this,”

said Stell.

“Twice you locked me in a cage,”

said Victor.

“ don’t intend to let it happen a third time.”

“And what will killing me do?”

snapped Stell.

“t won’t stop the rise of EON. The initiative is bigger than me, and growing every day.”

“ know,”

said Victor, guiding Stell’s finger to the trigger.

“God dammit, listen. f you kill me, you will make yourself EON’s number-one enemy, their primary target. They will never stop hunting you.”

Victor smiled grimly.

“ know.”

He closed his hand into a fist.

The gunshot split the room, and Victor’s hand fell back to his side as Stell’s body toppled to the floor.

Victor took a deep breath, steadying himself.

And then he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. A page from the battered paperback, the lines blacked out except for five words.

Catch me if you can.

Victor left the door open behind him.

As he stepped out into the dark, he drew his phone from his pocket.

t was buzzing again, Sydney’s name a streak of white against the black backdrop. Victor switched the phone off, and let it slip from his fingers into the nearest trash can.

And then he turned his collar up, and walked away.