villains bot

quotes from @veschwab's novels Vicious & Vengeful

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“Why should I help you?” Victor returned the tape to his mouth, and stood. “Oh, you shouldn’t.” The hum in the air sharpened, and Officer Dane’s body spasmed, his scream muffled by the tape. “But you will.”

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Dom shuddered, as if cold, so Victor severed his nerves, and said, “Get up.” But Dominic couldn’t hear him. “Get up,” he mouthed again.

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Marcella considered June. “Is that what you’re wearing?” The man’s mouth tugged into a wry smile. “Am I too pretty?” And just like that, he vanished, smooth, high cheekbones replaced by a bag lady with a hooked nose. “Is this better?”

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Marcella could have picked a restaurant, a museum, a movie theater—any place she wanted—and Marcus would have found a way to make it hers for the night. He’d been surprised when she’d chosen the gun range.

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It had been hard to walk away from Victor. There would be time for him again. But first, Eli needed to put distance between himself and the courthouse—and EON’s reach.

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He drew his fingers through the ring left by his beer glass on the old wood table, before writing one word in the film of water. EVER.

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Once again, Marcella had chosen to wear gold.

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Victor still lay beneath him, gasping, but alive, and Eli went to finish what he’d started, but the knife hung from his fingers. He couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel anything but the pain in his chest.

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“If you kill all the EOs you meet,” she said, “how are you better than Eli?” Victor’s teeth clenched.

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“Who are you talking to?” asked Stell. “Myself,” muttered Eli, waving Victor’s ghost away like a wisp of smoke.

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I will ruin you. I will ruin. I will. I— Marcella opened her eyes.

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Victor Vale. In Mitch’s mind, the man was lean but not yet gaunt, washed out in prison grays instead of fitted blacks. A flick of his wrist, and another man who threatened collapsed with a scream.

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Victor hadn’t caught the question, but he watched his roommate smile his perfect all-American-political-candidate smile before he answered.

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Or rather, Eli watched her go, and Victor watched Eli watch her, something twisting in his stomach. It wasn’t just that Eli stole Angie from Victor—that was bad enough—but somehow Angie had stolen Eli from him, too.

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“You want more milk?” It was the first thing Victor Vale ever said to Mitchell Turner.

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Victor Vale. In Mitch’s mind, the man was lean but not yet gaunt, washed out in prison grays instead of fitted blacks. A flick of his wrist, and another man who threatened collapsed with a scream.

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The Three Crows. Eli knew the address. He pulled away from the hotel, just missing Victor and his bag of takeout.

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I will ruin you. I will ruin. I will. I— Marcella opened her eyes.

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She pulled away enough to hold him with her cold blue eyes. He could see the devil in them, silver-tongued and cunning, and Eli thought, not for the first time, that he should have killed her when he had the chance.

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Thud. Thud. Thud. “How long were you in prison?” asked Sydney, trying to fill the quiet.