As he walked, he felt for the place in his jacket where his gun would be, a product of habit, but the pocket was empty. The dossier had told him enough to make him wary of anything that might succumb to magnetism, so he’d left the weapon in his glove box. He’d have to do this the old-fashioned way, which was fine. He didn’t often let himself indulge, but he couldn’t deny that there was something simple and satisfying about using his hands.
Ternis was a small school, one of those cozy private affairs made up of mismatched buildings and an abundance of tree-lined paths. Beth and he were both on one of the larger paths that bisected the campus, and there were enough students around to keep Eli’s pursuit from seeming at all conspicuous. He crossed the campus at a safe distance, enjoying the morning, taking in the crisp spring air, the beauty of the late afternoon sky and the first green leaves. One of them pulled loose from a tree and landed on the girl’s blue hair, and Eli admired the way it made both colors seem brighter as he slipped his gloves on.
When they were almost to the parking lot, Eli began to pick up his pace, closing the gap between them until he was within arm’s reach.
“Hey!” he called behind her, feigning breathlessness.
The girl slowed, and turned to look at him, but kept walking. Soon he was beside her.
“It’s Beth, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re in Phillips’s history section with me.”
Only for the past two classes, but he’d been sure to catch her eye both times.
“Sure am,” said Eli, flashing his best college-kid grin. “I’m Nicholas.” Eli had always liked the name. Nicholas and Frederick and Peter, those were the ones he found himself using the most. They were important names, the kind held by rulers, conquerors, kings. He and Beth passed through the parking lot, row after row of cars, the school shrinking in the distance behind them.
“Sorry, can I ask you a favor?” asked Eli.
“What’s up?” Beth tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“I don’t know where my head was during class,” he said, “but I missed the assignment. Did you write it down?”
“Sure,” she said as they reached her car.
“Thanks,” he said, biting his lip. “I guess there were better things to look at than the board.”
She giggled shyly as she set the bag on the hood and unzipped it, digging around inside.
“Anything’s better than the board,” she said, pulling out her notebook.
Beth had just turned to face him with the notes when his hand closed around her throat, and he slammed her back into the side of the car. She gasped, and he tightened his grip. She dropped the notebook and clawed at his face, raking the black-rimmed glasses off, carving deep scratches across his skin. He felt blood trickle over his cheek but didn’t bother wiping it away. The car behind her began to shake, the metal trying to bend, but she was too new to her power and the car was too heavy, and she was running out of air and fight.
There had been a time when he spoke to the EOs, tried to impart to them the logic, the necessity, of his actions, tried to make them understand before they died, that they were already dead, already ash, held together by something dark but feeble. But they didn’t listen, and in the end, his actions conveyed what his words had failed to. He’d made an exception for Serena’s little sister, and look where that had gotten him. No, words were wasted on them all.
So Eli pinned the girl against the car, and waited patiently until the struggle slowed, and weakened, and stopped. He stood very, very still, and relished the ensuing moment of quiet. It always came to him, right here, when the light—he’d say the life, but that wasn’t right, it wasn’t life, only something posing as life—went out of their eyes. A moment of peace, a measure of balance being restored to the world. The unnatural made natural.
Then the moment passed, and he peeled his gloved fingers away from the girl’s throat and watched her body slide down the warped metal of the car door and onto the concrete, blue hair falling across her face. Eli crossed himself as the angry red scratches on his cheek knitted and healed, leaving only smooth, clear skin beneath the drying blood. He knelt to retrieve his prop glasses from the ground beside the body. His cell rang as he straightened them on his nose, and he fished the phone from his coat.
“The Hero Line,” he answered smoothly. “How can I assist you?”
*
ELI had expected Serena’s slow laugh—the Hero bit was an inside joke—but the voice on the other end was gravelly and most certainly male.
“Mr. Ever?” asked the man.
“Who is this?”
“This is Officer Dane with the Merit PD. We got a call of a robbery in progress at Tidings Well Bank, at Fifth and Harbor.”
Eli frowned. “I have my own job, Officer. Don’t tell me the cops want me to do theirs, too. And how did you get this number? It’s not how we agreed to communicate.”
“The girl. She gave it to me.” Something exploded in the background, showering the line with static.
“It better be urgent.”
“It is,” said Officer Dane. “The robber is an EO.”
Eli rubbed his forehead. “Don’t you have special tactics? Surely they teach you those somewhere. I can’t exactly walk in and—”
“The fact he’s an EO isn’t the problem, Mr. Ever.”