A knock on the door made Nick sit up—an unfamiliar man was standing there, hand still raised to wood. He didn’t look like a student—mid-thirties or so, short brown beard and mustache, neat brown hair, tinted glasses, wearing a gray suit with a deep blue tie—more like some executive. He was staring straight at Nick.
“Can I help you?” Nick sat up and swept a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. It had been two days since his encounter with Daniel and he still hadn’t shaken his horror at what he’d become—or what he had almost done.
“Nick Gordon?” The stranger studied him again, and then nodded in answer to his own question. “Yes, of course you are.” He stepped through the door and extended a manicured hand.
“Jonathan Harcourt. Member of the Renewed.”
Nick stood up at that, casting a quick glance around as he accepted the man’s handshake. There were a few people wandering by, but no one paid any attention; Hillary was out until the afternoon and a glance at the clock told him he had about twenty minutes before Gordo got back from his morning class.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Harcourt?” He gestured the other man to Gordo’s seat, resumed his own. “And how did you find me?”
“Oh, that was easy.” Mr. Harcourt leaned back in the chair, resting his crossed feet on the desk, one hand twisting the chain of a pocket watch that hung from his vest. “There are only a few Nicholas Gordons, even in Chicago, so I did a little checking. I tried the student directory here, figuring that would be about the right age. Then I did a web search on you, and discovered you were a biology instructor. It gave this office number as your work address.”
Nick nodded. “So now you’ve found me, and introduced yourself—is that it, or did you come by for something else?” Harcourt was a little shorter than he, and the lines of his suit suggested a slightly fuller form, more fat than muscle. Nick thought he could probably take him if the guy got any strange ideas, but he’d rather find out what he wanted first.
“Just to welcome you into our ranks, and to offer some friendly words of advice.” Harcourt brought his feet off the desk and swiveled to face Nick, eyes dark behind his glasses. “Be careful.”
“Of what? Everything? Frozen ice cream? Window washers in the rain?”
Harcourt didn’t smile. “You’re the new kid on the block, Nick—the untested rookie. As such, you could be very useful to any number of people, including Daniel himself. Don’t let him use you, or trick you into anything.”
“Like what?” Nick leaned forward. “What are we talking about here? How would he use me?”
“As a pawn in the game, of course.”
“What game?”
Harcourt’s mouth twisted into a faint sneer. “He didn’t even tell you? Gods!” He stood up and paced the narrow room. “We’re immortal, Nick—I’ve been alive almost two hundred years now, and I’m the youngest except for you. What do you think such people do to occupy their time? Catch up on their reading?”
“I don’t know—this is all new to me.”
Harcourt turned and lunged at him, sending Nick back against his desk, all thoughts of fighting back driven away by the speed of the man’s attack. Inches from him Harcourt pulled to a halt, hands reaching out to grip his shoulders, face bare inches from his own.
“Power, boy! One-upmanship! That’s what it’s all about!” He released Nick so abruptly he fell backward, catching himself on his elbows against the cold metal of the desk before sinking back into his seat. “We are the only ones who can understand each other, and so we are the only ones worth impressing. Most of us spend our time trying to wring that respect out of the rest, trying to be the best at everything at once. Financial strategy, armed combat, yachting, racecar driving—you name it, we’ve competed at it. And usually we wind up in camps, with two or three real leaders vying for the loyalty of the rest. It’s all a big power-play, and it never ends.”
Nick breathed deeply, trying to regain his composure for the second time in as many minutes. “And you? Where do you fit in all this?”
“Oh, I win occasionally,” Harcourt replied, studying his fingernails modestly. “I do better with the more business-oriented areas, but I have no illusions. I’m only a minor player.”
“Then why are you here? To enlist me as some sort of ally?”
His guest shrugged. “The thought had crossed my mind, but at the moment you have no real status, no ability, so your loyalty wouldn’t be worth much. No, I just came to make sure you weren’t blindly following anyone into a trap. You’re only a pawn at this point, but a completely unformed one—if one of the major players manages to grab you, you could be theirs for life, and eventually that will carry some weight. I wanted to warn you to keep your eyes open around the rest of us—everyone’s got an ulterior motive for everything they do.” Harcourt straightened his jacket, brushed his sleeves, and turned toward the door. “That was it. I’ll see you around, probably at the Club—I’m usually there, as are most of the others. Just be careful not to believe everything you’re told, and you should be okay.” He exited the office, turned the corner, and was gone.
Nick watched him go. Everyone had an ulterior motive, Harcourt had said. That made sense, but then why had he come by? Certainly not just to offer some friendly advice. Most likely he was with one of the other factions he’d mentioned, and didn’t want Nick getting too close to Daniel.
Not that they had to worry. He still had far too many unanswered questions, ones that Daniel had evaded or simply ignored, to completely trust the older man. For now Nick decided that he would just deal with classes and work, and wait and see what developed. Eventually, though, he would have to go back to the club and find the answers he needed. Then he’d decide where his loyalties lay, if with anyone, and what he was going to do with the rest of his life. Fortunately that could wait. Right now eternity seemed a long way away, and Nick swung his chair around to glance at the clock, far more interested in when Gordo and Hillary would get back and whether he could talk them into going out for Chinese tonight.