Page 187 of Victorious

“You and Eli have a complicated history.”

“It’s not that complicated,” she said, uncurling her limbs. “He shot me. I killed him.”

“And I brought him back.”

Sydney stiffened at this revelation. Not only that he was an EO, but that his power was like hers.

“You see, we have something in common.”

Sydney felt a chill run through her.

“We’re not the same, of course,” continued Dr. Gray. “Powers, as I think you know, are specific reflections of a person’s psyche. As individual as fingerprints. But that’s what makes your presence here so valuable.”

He leaned forward, depositing the pad and pencil on the low table between their chairs, then sat back, and laced his fingers.

“You present an opportunity—the first—to investigate the similarities, and differences. What you can do that I cannot. What I can do that you cannot. Perhaps even, what we can do together.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll go first. Now, keep in mind, I didn’t have a mentor. I learned what I could do by accident. Helena, come here.”

Sydney watched as the woman seemed to waken with his voice. She peeled away from the wall and stepped toward Dr. Gray, her black bob swishing over her shoulders as she stopped beside him.

A short glass of water sat on the table. He took it up and drained the contents, then handed her the glass. “Please hold this.”

She took it with the flat, unfocused gaze of someone in a trance.

“Ms. Roy was the director here at EON, prior to my arrival,” he said, addressing Sydney. “In fact, she’s the one who hired me.” He looked to Helena. “Crush the glass.”

There was no hesitation. The woman’s fingers vised, sudden and hard. The glass cracked, then shattered, collapsing inward. Jagged shards bit deep into her hand and blood instantly began to well between her fingers.

Sydney watched in horror. But Helena didn’t so much as flinch. Didn’t seem to notice, or care, about the wounds. Didn’t watch as blood began to run in rivers. Dripping on the floor.

“In many ways,” continued Dr. Gray, “she is responsible for my ascension through the ranks. Perhaps that’s why I’ve kept her at my side, even though the truth is, by now, she serves very little purpose.”

Like the broken glass, his words had no effect.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Syd as blood pooled on the floor.

The therapist gave her a mild disapproving look. “Wrong is such a loaded word. But in this case, I suppose, it’s not unfair. Ms. Roy, like all the humans I bring back, lacks a certain … independence. She retains her knowledge, and her memory, can access both as needed, but when it comes to agency, well—as you can see, she does exactly what I tell her.”

Sydney frowned.

“Is it not the same for you?” he prodded. She didn’t answer, but her face must have given her away. “Interesting,” he said. “Now, as you can see—”

“Does she feel pain?” she cut in.

Dr. Gray cocked his head, as if the question took him by surprise. “I don’t think she feels anything.”

Syd glared. “You could ask her.”

His expression tightened. “This is not the point I’m making here.”

“So you’re hurting her for nothing.”

Until that moment, Dr. Gray had seemed unflappable. But now, Syd saw his composure crack. “The point,” he said, “is twofold. First, to demonstrate that sometimes, in order to move on, we must let go of the past. And second…” He rested his hand on Helena Roy’s shoulder. “To show you what else I can do.”

It happened so fast.

One moment the woman was standing there, blithely bleeding on the floor. And the next, she was gone, her body collapsing inward, the way the glass had done, skin and bone disintegrating into ash.

Syd drew back. The therapist only sighed, brushing off his hands.