FOUR WEEKS AGO
EON
ELI had spent the better part of an hour listening to Stell talk about his new target. Marcella Renee Riggins, mob wife turned murderess. He flipped through the pages in the file as the director spoke, setting aside the newspaper clipping and the EON-issued backstory, focusing instead on the crime scene stills from the hospital—the bed with its rusted bar, its ruined sheets, and the much more striking hole in the hospital room wall.
“. . . nearly died in a fire, seems to be burning everything—and everyone—she can get her hands on—”
“She’s not burning them,” said Eli, skimming the photos.
“The piles of ash beg to differ.”
Eli traced a finger along the hole in the wall, then flipped to the crime scene close-up of the debris on the kitchen floor.
He rose and pressed the photo against the fiberglass. “Do you see that? The edges of the diamond?”
Stell squinted. “It looks dirty. Which would make sense, considering it’s sitting in a pile of human remains.”
“It’s not dirty,” said Eli. “It’s graphite.”
Obviously. “Marcella isn’t burning things. She’s eroding them. If she’d been using heat, you might have been able to combat it with extreme cold. But with a corrosive ability like this, you’re better off killing her.”
Stell crossed his arms. “Is that the only advice you have to offer?”
“In this case, it’s certainly the best,” said Eli. He had seen power like Marcella’s before. Raw, destructive, boundless. There was no place for power like that in this world. She would carve a swathe of chaos, until she was put down. “Do you know the half-life of carbon?”
“Off the top of my head?” asked Stell.
“It’s nearly six thousand years. How long do you think it took her to kill the person wearing that diamond? How long do you think it will take her to penetrate whatever armor your men are wearing?”
“It won’t be the first time our agents have gone up against someone with a touch-based ability.”
“And assuming you capture her, do you even have a cell capable of containing someone with these powers?”
“Every power has its limits.”
“Just listen—”
“I don’t need to,” cut in Stell. “Your philosophy is hardly a mystery at this point, Eli. If it were up to you, EON would never salvage anyone.”
“It’s in part because of me that you have salvaged the last twenty-two EOs. So listen when I tell you that someone this powerful belongs in the ground.”
“You know the policy.”
“I know you want to believe that all EOs are worth saving, but we aren’t.”
“We don’t decide who lives and who dies,” said Stell tersely. “We don’t condemn EOs without confrontation.”
“Now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgment?”
“Marcella will be offered the same opportunity as every other EO we engage—to come willingly. If she refuses, and the on-site team is unable to safely—”
“Safely?” snarled Eli. “This woman can reduce people to ash with a single touch. She can decay metal and stone. Do you value an EO’s life above a human’s? Because you are sending your agents on a suicide mission to sate your pride—”
“Stand down,” said Stell.
Eli exhaled through clenched teeth. “If you don’t kill her now, you’ll wish you had.”
Stell turned to go. “If you have no other suggestions—”
“Send me.”
Stell glanced back, raising a thick brow. “What was that?”
“You want other options? Ones that won’t get innocent humans killed?” Eli spread his arms. “Our abilities are complementary. She ruins. I regenerate. There’s a cosmic elegance to it, don’t you think?”
“And what if her power is faster?” asked Stell.
Eli’s arms fell back to his sides. “Then I die,” he said simply.
Once upon a time he had believed he survived because God willed it. That Eli was unbreakable because He had a purpose for him. These days, Eli didn’t know what he believed, but he still hoped, fervently, desperately, that there was a reason for it.
Stell smiled grimly. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Cardale. But I’m not letting you go that easily.”
The wall went solid, swallowing the director from sight. Eli sighed, and crossed to his bed. He sank down onto his cot, elbows on his knees, fingers laced, head bowed. As if in prayer.
Eli hadn’t expected Stell to say yes, of course.
But he had planted the seed. Had seen it take root behind Stell’s eyes.
Now he simply had to wait for it to grow.