Page 112 of Victorious

“We wanted to change the world.”

Victor, limbs crackling with power, and pain.

“Starting with ourselves.”

Victor, who’d ruined everything they had, and could have had.

“And then you killed him.”

Eli saw the knife, sinking into Victor’s chest. The life leaving his eyes. Felt the absence, where victory should be.

“I did,” said Eli grimly. “Unfortunately, it didn’t stick.”

Gabriel tapped his pencil on his knee. “Were you relieved?”

Eli frowned. “What?”

“When he survived.”

“Relieved…” He echoed Gabriel, which was not the same as answering. “The world felt strange, without him in it. But no. A person dies, and what comes back is not a person anymore.”

Gabriel inclined his head in question. “Why do you say that?”

“Don’t you know?” asked Eli, sitting forward. “Haven’t you felt it? Not everything comes back from death. I tried to warn Victor, but he didn’t care about the cost. I did. I felt the absence.”

Eli saw himself, the night he died, not in the bath, or at the bar, but after—after Victor stormed off, and Eli stood at the sink, slicing himself open, watching the wounds heal again and again, horror mounting with the proof of what he’d done, what he’d become.

What he’d lost for what he’d gained.

“EOs are wrong. And bringing one back a second time,” he added pointedly, “only compounds the wrongness.”

“Which is why you resent me,” observed Gabriel.

“Among other things,” said Eli darkly.

“Go on.”

Eli paused, to make sure he still could, counted to three before the pressure forced the answer out. “After I came back, the first time, I didn’t want to live. I couldn’t die. I told myself that God must have a plan. That He would take my power back when He was done with me. That He would let me go.”

“But God didn’t take your powers. Haverty did, with a serum he designed.”

“A serum he formulated using me,” he countered. “My body. My ability.”

Gabriel nodded, finally seeming to understand. “The one God chose for you.” He drew a circle in the air. “How elegant.” His hand fell. “Perhaps, the fact you’re sitting here, means He isn’t done with you.”

Eli rolled his head on his shoulders. “Perhaps. But God didn’t bring either of us back. I had you, and Victor had the girl.”

Behind his spectacles, Gabriel’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “The girl?”

Eli hesitated. Was it possible he didn’t know?

“Sydney Clarke,” he said, trying to keep the venom from his voice. “Short. Blond. Looks younger than she is?” Nothing. “I tried to kill her once, but she got away. She’s the one who brought Victor back a second time.” And the one who shot me through the heart, he thought, but managed not to say aloud. “I mentioned her sister, Serena. The two of them fell through the ice together, though they came out with different powers. Serena could command anyone to do anything, using just her voice. And Sydney can resurrect the dead. Like you.”

Up until now, Gabriel Gray had displayed an impressive, almost maddening degree of composure. But for the first time, Eli got to see it crack.

“You didn’t think you were one of a kind, did you, Dr. Gray?”

The cracks deepened, and in the fractured space, he saw an opportunity. Not to free himself—not yet—but at least to finish what he’d started.