Reckoners 01 - Steelheart

one.
    I couldn’t let that happen. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my rifle and slung it over my shoulder. Then I stepped out onto the street and took off toward Fortuity.
    It was time to hand the Reckoners my résumé.

2
    I hustled down the dark street on a steel sidewalk, passing in and out of pockets of light.
    I might have just decided to do something very, very stupid. Like eating-meat-sold-by-shady-understreet-vendors stupid. Maybe even stupider. The Reckoners planned their assassinations with extreme care. It hadn’t been my intention to interfere—only to watch, then try to get them to take me on. By stepping out of that alleyway, I changed things. Interfered with the plan, whatever it was. There was a chance that everything was going just as it was supposed to—that Curveball was accounted for.
    But maybe not. No plan was perfect, and even the Reckoners failed. Sometimes they pulled out, their target left alive. It was better to retreat than risk capture.
    I didn’t know which situation this was, but I had to at least try to help. If I missed this opportunity, I’d curse myself for years.
    All three people—Fortuity, Curveball, and the beauty with the dangerous air—turned toward me as I ran up. “Donny!” I said. “We need you back at the Reeve!”
    Curveball frowned at me, eyeing my rifle. He reached under his jacket for his gun, but didn’t pull it out. Fortuity, in his red suit and deep red cape, raised an eyebrow at me. If I’d been a danger, his powers would have warned him. I wasn’t planning to do anything to him in the next few minutes, though, so he got no warning.
    “Who are
you
?” Curveball demanded.
    I stopped. “Who am I? Sparks, Donny! I’ve worked for Spritzer for three years now. Would it
kill
you to try remembering people’s names once in a while?”
    My heart was thumping, but I tried not to show it. Spritzer was the guy who ran the Reeve Playhouse. Spritz wasn’t an Epic, but he was in Steelheart’s pay—pretty much anyone with any influence in the city was.
    Curveball studied me suspiciously, but I knew he didn’t give much mind to the lowlife thugs around him. In fact, he probably would have been shocked by how much I knew about him, along with most of the Epics in Newcago.
    “Well?” I demanded. “You coming?”
    “You don’t give lip to me, boy. What are you, a door guard?”
    “I went on the Idolin raid last summer,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’m moving up, Donny.”
    “You call me sir, idiot,” Curveball snapped, lowering his hand from his jacket. “If you were ‘moving up,’ you wouldn’t be running messages. What’s this nonsense about going back? He said he needed Fortuity to run some odds for him.”
    I shrugged. “He didn’t tell me
why;
he just sent me to get you. Said to say that he’d been wrong, and you weren’t to bother Fortuity.”I looked to Fortuity. “I don’t think the Spritz knew about … er … that you had plans, sir.” I nodded to the woman.
    There was a long, uncomfortable pause. I was so nervous, you could have scratched off a lottery ticket by holding it against my knuckles. Finally, Fortuity sniffed. “Tell Spritz that he’s forgiven, this time. He should know better—I’m not his personal calculator.” He turned, sticking out his elbow to the woman and walking away, obviously assuming that she’d jump at his whim.
    As she turned to follow, she glanced at me, long lashes fluttering above deep blue eyes. I found myself smiling.
    Then I realized that if I’d fooled Fortuity, I’d probably fooled her too. That meant she—and the Reckoners—now thought I was one of Steelheart’s lackeys. They were always careful not to endanger civilians, but they had nothing at all against taking out a few hit men or thugs.
    Aw, sparks
, I thought.
I should have winked at her! Why didn’t I wink at her?
    Would that have looked stupid? I’d never really practiced winking. Could you do it the wrong way, though? It was a simple thing.
    “Something wrong with your eye?” Curveball asked.
    “Er, got a lash in it,” I said. “Sir. Sorry. Um, we should get back.” The thought of the Reckoners setting off their trap in time to take out Curveball—and me—as a nice side effect suddenly made me very, very nervous.
    I hurried down the sidewalk, splashing through some puddles. Rain didn’t evaporate quickly in the darkness, and with the steel ground, there wasn’t anywhere for it to go. The Diggers had created some