“He’s been out there, killing humans and EOs, and you knew.”
“I suspected—”
“And you didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t burn the body!” roared Eli. “I put him down, and you let him get back up. Victor Vale’s continued existence, and the deaths he’s since accrued—those are your failures, not mine. Yes, I kept my suspicions from you, because I hoped I was wrong, hoped that you hadn’t been so foolish, hadn’t failed so catastrophically. And if you had, well, then I knew my warnings would fall on deaf ears. You want Victor? Fine. I’ll help you take him again.”
He went to the low shelf, drew the hunter’s folder from the row of case files.
“Unless you’d rather let Marcella lead you through her hoops instead.”
He dropped the folder in the open tray.
“I’m sure once she figures out Victor’s value, she’ll make you pay every cent.”
Stell said nothing, his face a poor imitation of a stone wall as he slowly reached for the file. But Eli, of course, could still see every crack.
“My advisement,” he said, “is on the last page.”
Stell skimmed the instructions in silence, and then looked up. “You think this will work?”
“It’s how I’d catch him,” said Eli, truthfully.
Stell turned to go, but Eli called him back.
“Look me in the eye,” said Eli, “and tell me that when you find Victor, you will kill him once and for all.”
Stell met his gaze. “I’ll do as I see fit.”
Eli flashed a feral grin. “Of course you will,” he said.
And so will I.