Page 109 of Victorious

Of course, Gabriel’s interest had preceded his family’s death. But Eli didn’t need to know that.

“EOs are a puzzle,” he said, “One I’m determined to solve. To do that, I need as many pieces as possible. To understand the big picture. And you, Eli, are a very important piece.”

You, and Victor, he thought but didn’t say.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” said Eli. “What’s in it for you? Don’t tell me you believe knowledge is its own reward.”

Gabriel gave an enigmatic shrug. “To some, it is. I see it more as a stepping stone to greater things. A way to leave my mark on the field. And of course,” he added, as if it were an afterthought, “I want to help my patients.”

“I’m not. Your. Patient.”

The cord drew taut as he fought to push Gabriel back. A waste of energy. For both of them.

“And I’m not your enemy, Eli,” he shot back. “In fact, of all the EOs I’ve met, I can confidently say that you and I are on the same side.”

“I doubt it,” muttered Eli, “seeing as I kill EOs. And you bring them back.”

Gabriel’s mouth twitched. “The two,” he said, “aren’t mutually exclusive.”

He’d read Eli’s files—every single one of them—and so he knew not only the extent of his abilities, but also his belief. Not in God—his faith there seemed to waver—but in his purpose. It made Eli an asset, not only to his current research, but to the future of his program.

There were still so many EOs out there, waiting to found, and caught, and brought under his care. Like Victor.

No wonder Stell had used him. Of course, it hadn’t ended well for the director, but Gabriel had the one thing Stell never seemed to gain: control.

Eli’s resistance was impressive, but it would fail. And in the meantime, he could only struggle, not escape.

The tablet chimed, and Gabriel glanced down. He frowned. Then smiled. “What fruitful timing,” he murmured, to himself. Then rose.

“Come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

Eli followed Gabriel out into the hall, trailing a step behind.

If the therapist worried about turning his back on Eli, he gave no indication.

As for the guards they passed, they hardly seemed to notice Eli, blank expressions landing briefly before sliding away. As if he weren’t a threat. He would have been insulted, if he hadn’t learned they were dead. As far as Eli could tell, Gabriel had turned EON into his own private puppet theater.

“This way.”

Gabriel led him through a sealed door, and into a cavernous space.

His own cell masqueraded as a normal room, a small but furnished suite.

But this one hadn’t been converted. It was a cube of plexiglass and steel sitting in the center of a large, dark space, four guards up against the walls. It was sterile, and cold, and Eli felt something like a distant relative of fear before he saw the cell was already occupied.

A teenage boy paced frantically, hands clawing at hair. He muttered to himself, the words amplified by the speakers outside the cell. “No, no, I can’t, I can’t, why can’t I remember?”

“You see,” said Gabriel, glancing toward Eli. “Some glitches are much worse.” He smiled, as if he wasn’t the reason for the EO’s madness, the source of his corruption.

A woman in a pale suit stepped forward. “I moved him to the holding cell when he started breaking things.” Her voice was steady, almost warm, but her face belied Gabriel’s handiwork. The dreamy expression of a sleepwalker.

“Thank you, Helena,” he said, pushing down his sleeves, only to roll them up again, as if readying himself. “I’ll take it from here.”

Eli watched as Gabriel entered, flanked by a pair of guards.

“Hello, Xavi,” he said.

The boy’s head jerked toward him, and Eli saw blood staining the center of his face, as if he’d slammed his forehead against a wall. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gray, but I can’t, I can’t—” He bowed double, chest heaving with panic. “I’m trying to remember but I can’t remember what I don’t remember, and I—”