Reckoners 01 - Steelheart

him. Two women in sleek gowns hung on his elbows.
    I itched to unsling my rifle and take a shot at him. He was a sadistic monster. He claimed his powers worked best when practicing an art called extispicy: the reading of the entrails of dead creatures to divine the future. Fortuity preferred to use human entrails, and he liked them fresh.
    I held myself back. The moment I decided to try to shoot him, his powers would activate. Fortuity had nothing to fear from a lone sniper. He probably thought he didn’t have anything to fear at all. If my information was right, the next hour would prove him very wrong on that count.
    Come on
, I thought.
This is the best time to move against him. I’m right. I’ve
got
to be
.
    Fortuity took a drag on his cigarette, nodding to a few people who passed by. He had no bodyguards. Why would he needbodyguards? His fingers glittered with rings, though wealth was meaningless to him. Even without Steelheart’s rules granting him the right to take what he wanted, Fortuity could win a fortune in any gambling house on any day he chose.
    Nothing happened. Had I been wrong? I’d been so
sure
. Bilko’s information was usually up to date. Word in the understreets was that the Reckoners were back in Newcago. Fortuity
was
the Epic they’d target. I knew this. I’d made a habit—maybe even a quest—of studying the Reckoners. I—
    A woman walked past Fortuity. Tall, lithe, and golden-haired, and perhaps twenty years old, she wore a thin red dress with a plunging neckline. Even with two beauties on his arms, Fortuity turned and stared at her. She hesitated, glancing back at him. Then she smiled and walked up, hips undulating back and forth.
    I couldn’t hear what they said, but in the end, this newcomer displaced the other women. She led Fortuity down the road, whispering in his ear and laughing. The other two women waited behind, arms crossed, not daring to complain. Fortuity did
not
like his women to speak back to him.
    This had to be it. I wanted to get ahead of them, but couldn’t do so on the street itself. Instead I moved back through a few alleyways. I knew the area perfectly; studying maps of the theater district was what had almost made me late.
    I hustled around the back of a building, sticking to the shadows, and arrived at another alleyway. From here I could peek out and see the same road, but from another angle. Fortuity ambled along the steel sidewalk outside.
    The area was lit by lamps hanging from streetlights. The streetlights themselves had been turned to steel during the transfersion—electronics and bulbs included. They no longer worked, but they did provide a convenient place to hang lanterns.
    Those lanterns left pools of light that the pair moved through, in and out. I held my breath, watching closely. Fortuity was packing aweapon for certain. The suit was tailored to hide the bulge under his arm, but I could still make out where his holster was.
    Fortuity didn’t have any directly offensive powers, but that didn’t really matter. His precognition powers meant he never missed with a handgun, no matter how wild the shot seemed. If he decided to kill you, you had a couple of seconds to respond, or you’d be dead.
    The woman didn’t appear to be carrying a weapon, though I couldn’t be certain. That dress showed plenty of curves. A gun strapped to her thigh, perhaps? I looked closer as she moved into another pool of light, though I found myself staring at her, rather than looking for weapons. She was gorgeous. Eyes that glittered, bright red lips, golden hair. And that low neckline …
    I shook myself.
Idiot
, I thought.
You have a purpose. Women interfere with things like a purpose
.
    But even a ninety-year-old blind priest would stop and stare at this woman. If he weren’t blind, that is.
Dumb metaphor
, I thought.
I’ll have to work on that one
. I have trouble with metaphors.
    Focus
. I raised my rifle, leaving on the safety and using the scope for its zoom. Where were they going to hit him? The street here ran through several blocks of gloomy darkness—broken only by the lanterns—before intersecting Burnley Street. That was a major hub of the local dance scene. Likely the woman had enticed Fortuity to join her at a club. The quickest route was through this dark, less-populated street.
    The empty street was a very good sign. The Reckoners rarely struck at an Epic who was in too public an area. They didn’t like innocent casualties. I tilted the rifle up