Steelheart (The Reckoners #1)

“How exactly are we going to go separate directions? We’ve only got one van.”

“Oh, we’ve got a little surprise back here, lad,” Cody said; I’d unmuted him when I’d unmuted Prof and the rest. “I’m actually hoping something goes wrong. I kinda want to use it.”

“Never hope for something to go wrong,” Tia said.

“But always expect it to,” Prof added.

“You’re paranoid, old man,” Tia said.

“Damn right,” Prof said, voice mu ed, probably because he was hunkering down with his rocket launcher. I had assumed they’d put Cody in that position with a sniper ri e, but Prof said that he’d rather have something heavier when Enforcement might be involved.

Diamond would have been proud.

“You’re getting close, Megan,”

Tia said. “You should be on them in another few minutes. Maintain your speed; the limo is driving faster than it usually does.”

“Do they suspect something?”

Cody asked.

“They’d be fools not to,”

Abraham said softly. “Con ux will take extra care these days, I should think.”

“It’s worth the risk,” Prof said.

“Just be careful.”

I nodded. With widespread power outages in the city, disabling Enforcement would leave the city in disorder. It would force Steelheart to step forward and take a rm hand to prevent looting or riots. That would mean revealing himself one way or another.

“He’s never afraid to ght other Epics,” I said.

“What are you talking about?”

Prof asked.

“Steelheart. He’ll face other Epics, no problem. But he doesn’t like putting down riots by himself.

He always uses Enforcement. We assumed it’s because he doesn’t want to bother, but what if it’s something more? What if he’s afraid of crossfire?”

“Who’s that?” Abraham asked.

“No, not an Epic. It just occurred to me—what if Steelheart is afraid of getting hit accidentally? What if that’s his weakness? He got hurt by my father, but my father wasn’t aiming for him. What if he can only be hurt if the bullet was meant for someone else?”

“Possible,” Tia said.

“We need to stay focused,” Prof answered. “David, shelve that idea for the moment. We’ll come back to it.”He was right. I was letting myself get distracted, like a rabbit doing math problems instead of looking for foxes.

Still … If I’m right, he wouldn’t ever be in danger in a one-on-one ght. He’s faced other Epics with impunity. What he seems to be afraid of is a big battle, where bul ets are ying around. There was a sense to it. It was a simple thing, but most Epic weaknesses were simple.

“Slow down just a tad,” Tia said softly.

Megan complied.

“Here it comes.…”

A sleek black car pulled out onto the dark street in front of us, going the same direction we were. It was anked by a couple of motorcycles —good security, but not great. We knew from the Reckoners’ original plan to hit Con ux that this convoy was probably his. We’d use the dowser to make sure, though.

We continued along behind the limo. I was impressed; even though they didn’t know where the limo was going, Tia and Megan had timed it so that the limo came onto our street, not the other way around. We’d look far less suspicious this way.

My job was to keep my eyes open and, if things went wrong, to return re so Megan could drive. I slipped a small pair of binoculars out of my pocket and hunkered down, sighting through them and inspecting the limo ahead.

“Well?” Prof asked in my ear.

“Looks good,” I said.

“I’m going to pull up beside them at the next light,” Megan said. “It will feel natural. Be ready, Abraham.”

I slipped the binoculars into my pocket and tried to look nonchalant. The next light was green when we hit it, so Megan kept trailing the limo at a safe distance. The light after that, however, turned red before the limo reached it.

We pulled up slowly beside the limo, on the left side.

“There’s an Epic near us for sure,” Abraham said from the back of our van. He whistled softly. “A powerful one. Very powerful. The dowser is focusing in. I’ll have more in a second.”

One of the motorcycle drivers looked us over. He wore an Enforcement helmet and had an SMG strapped to his back. I tried to peer through the windows of the limo and catch a glimpse of Con ux. I’d always wondered what he looked like.

I couldn’t see through the tinted rear glass. But as we pulled forward, I caught sight of someone sitting in the passenger seat. A woman who was vaguely familiar.

She met my eyes but then looked away.

Business suit, black hair cut short over

her

ears.

She

was

Nightwielder’s assistant, the one who had been with him at Diamond’s. She was probably a liaison to Enforcement; it made sense for her to be in the limo.

Something still made me

suspicious. She’d met my eyes; she should have recognized me.

Maybe … she had recognized me, but hadn’t been surprised to see me.We pulled forward, the light green, and I felt a spike of alarm.

“Prof, I think it’s a trap.”

At that moment Nightwielder himself ew through the top of the limo, his arms spread wide, lines of darkness stretching from his ngers out into the night.





28

MOST people have never seen a High Epic in their glory. That’s what we call it when they summon their powers in earnest—when they rise up in their might, their emotions kindled to wrath and fury.

There is a glow about them. The air grows sharp, like it’s become full of electricity. Heartbeats still.

The wind holds its breath.

Nightwielder’s rising made this the third time I’d seen something like it.He was clothed in night, and blackness writhed and twisted about him. His face was pale, translucent, but his eyes were alight, his lips drawn in a sneer of hatred. It was the sneer of a god, barely tolerant of even his allies.

He had come to destroy.

Looking upon him, I found myself terrified.

“Calamity!”

Megan

cursed,

slamming her foot down on the gas and swerving the van to the side as shadows leaped from around Nightwielder toward us. They moved like ghostly fingers.

“Abort!” Tia called. “Get out of there!”

There was no time. Nightwielder moved in the air, ignoring things like wind and gravity. He ew like a specter out in front of his car and toward us. He wasn’t the true danger, though—the true danger was those tendrils of blackness. The van could not avoid them; there were dozens.

Shoving aside my fear, I raised my ri e. The van rattled and jolted around me. Wisps of darkness moved up, wrapping around the vehicle.

Idiot, I thought. I dropped my ri e and shoved my hand into my coat pocket. The

ashlight!

Panicked, I flipped it on and shined it right in Nightwielder’s face as he oated up beside my window. He was ying face-rst, like he was swimming in the air.

The reaction was immediate.

Though the ashlight gave o little light

that

I

could

see,

Nightwielder’s face immediately lost its incorporeity. His eyes stopped glowing, and the shadows vanished from around his head.

The beam of invisible light pierced the dark tendrils like a laser through a pile of sheep.

In that UV light, Nightwielder’s face didn’t look divine. It looked frail, human, and very, very surprised. I struggled to get my gun up to re at him, but the ri e was too unwieldy and my father’s handgun was strapped under my arm where I couldn’t get at it while holding the flashlight.

Nightwielder looked at me for the space of a single heartbeat, his eyes wide with terror. Then he ed in a blink, streaking sideways away from the van. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he’d been losing altitude as I shined the light on him, as if all his powers were weakening.

He vanished down a side street, and the shadows that had been moving around the van retreated with him. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be back anytime soon, not after the scare I’d just given him.

Submachine-gun

re erupted

around us, bullets pelting the side of the van with metallic ping s. I cursed, ducking down as my window

shattered.

The

motorcyclists had opened