Chapter Eight

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Frank sat back, letting his head loll against the back of the chair. Goosebumps still danced across his arm where his skin had met Silver's. He wasn't afraid, and that was the problem. Something in his gut was lying to him, telling him Silver wouldn't actually hurt him and giving him a false sense of security. There was no logic to it, except that Silver hadn't done anything to him yet.

Frank had to assume that meant he had more value alive than dead. He would have to figure out what his worth was and hold on to it as long as possible–or until he could escape. Frank's eyes drifted shut, and the world turned into an eerie collage of noises. He couldn't tell which were imagined.

Suddenly, the door to the cell banged open. The walls shifted around him, morphing into looming buildings, illuminated only by weak street lamps. It was no longer a cell, but an ally where no one could hear the screams except Frank. On the ground in front of him was an oil elemental. He was screaming, begging Frank to stop. Frank tried to ignore it and focus on the commands in his ear instructing him to take the shot.

He lifted his weapon, and the pleas got louder. There was only the weapon and the sobbing man in front of him, clutching a gushing wound at his side as he pleaded for mercy. He shut his eyes, and only allowed himself to hear his commander's words. Take the shot, Frank. Don't be a pussy. Don't fuck up your first time. He slid his finger onto the trigger–

The door opened in front of him. The real one, because he was in the present and this time he was the one at a sociopath's mercy, instead of being the one pointing the gun. He knew crying wouldn't help him any more here than it had helped the oil elemental in his past. He felt the salty trails on his cheeks and rubbed them off on his sleeves before Silver walked in. He blinked rapidly, hoping to erase the redness in his eyes. Then he stuck a smirk on his face, because he wasn't going down in tears. He was going to die with a fucking smile on his face, and he would wear it all the way to hell.

Silver walked in, his expression eerily similar to Frank's–except there was no light in his eyes. Only ice. "I think it's time we get started." He undid the cuffs. "You've stolen from me. Now you either give it back willingly, or I tear it from your heart." Frank hadn't realized it, but the second the power-muting handcuffs were off, he started warming the room up. Now it was nearly freezing.

He reached out with his power on instinct, heating the air around him to a more comfortable temperature. Silver grinned that cat-like grin of his that never quite reached his eyes. "I think we're more alike than you would admit. We both have more power than we should. We both have secrets. This doesn't have to be a fight, you know. We could work together."

"You just fucking kidnapped me, and suddenly you want me to join your team? I don't think so."

"I'm not saying we become best friends and throw tea parties. You want to stop elementals from being hunted for their powers. So do I. I'm sure your motives are some heroic shit about saving innocents. Mine aren't, but the end result is the same."

"You don't exactly have the best track record. How can I in good conscience work with you without knowing why?" Frank raised an eyebrow.

"How can you not? If you don't accept my offer, you are choosing to let elementals suffer. I would have guessed you were above all this high-handed morality. Just think about the people's lives you would improve. Unless, of course, you want to go back to the life you had. I bet they would be more than happy to take you back for another–"

"Stop," Frank interrupted. "I get it, it's just ... " He already knew he was going to agree. Despite the moral questions, despite the risks. There were so many mistakes in his past. So many times when he could have made a better decision, or at least not the most terrible one. He had to make up for it. This opportunity just dropped in front of him like a ton of bricks. And Silver said the perfect words to convince him. Improving people's lives wouldn't have negative consequences–not if he played it right.

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