The People v. Eleanor Warwick
Remorse

The Hornet is as silent as a tomb.

Eleanor stares ahead as if she expects the highway to move if she looks away.

The scenery rushing past the passenger-side window is apparently fascinating. Grey watches it with strict focus.

In the near hour they’ve been on the road, they barely spoke two words. Those words were Jessie complaining about being in the backseat.

Arkshire Academy resides a few hours to the northeast of the city. The trip promised to be incredibly uncomfortable for all involved. It turned out to be worse than Eleanor feared. The silence is maddening.

It’s finally broken when Jessie speaks. “Can I smoke in here?”

“No,” Eleanor answers.

“Why not? I can smoke in your House.”

“And that’s bad enough, thank you.”

Sitting up in the seat, Jessie shifts uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t be in the backseat.”

“Jessie, please. You’re acting like a child.”

The hellblood glares at the back of her head. “Are we there yet?” she asks sardonically.

Eleanor looks over her shoulder, matching her aggravated gaze. With a scoff, Jessie plops back down on the seat.

Grey shakes her head at their bickering. “I can’t believe we couldn’t take you two down.”

“We’re at our best when people are trying to kill us,” Eleanor responds. “It’s downtime we can’t handle. If it makes you feel any better, you got close.”

“It doesn’t.”

The three passengers go back to ignoring each other. After several more minutes of uncomfortable quiet, Grey raises a question. “You never told me where we’re going.”

“Arkshire Academy. It’s where Cassandra needs to take the Stone.”

“And Cassandra is...?”

“A 200-year-old wizard who wants to rewrite history.”

“And the Tempus Stone was required for what?”

“To absorb a torrent of magic that would give her the power to do it.” Eleanor takes note of Grey pondering the information. “Are you expecting me to believe you didn’t know any of this?”

The agent’s sidelong glare is chilling. “I don’t really care what you believe.”

“No kidding,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Tell me something;” Grey inquires, “were the analysts right? Would you have worked with us if we’d asked?”

As much as she would have loved to prove her wrong, Eleanor answers honestly. “No.”

Grey nods. “Just easier to stand to the side complaining, I suppose.”

Eleanor’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Having a problem with you killing an innocent man is hardly complaining.”

“It was never our intention to hurt him. If he would have just sat there and waited, we would have released him.”

“Oh, well, if you didn’t intend to kill him, then I guess it doesn’t count. He’s probably fine then.”

Furrowing her brow at her sarcasm, Grey looks back out the window. “What I meant is that it wasn’t supposed to happen. It shouldn’t have happened. It was regrettable, but I would still take him in if I had to do it over.”

“Regrettable, huh?” Eleanor scoffs. “I’ll be sure to tell that to his family.”

“What do you want to hear, Warwick?”

“Some remorse would be nice.”

Dark brown eyes glare at her. “I don’t have the luxury of remorse, but I am well aware that a man in my custody was unnecessarily killed. That is my responsibility and it’s something I’ll have to live with.”

Eleanor holds her gaze as long as she can considering she’s driving. Grey seems sincere, but she isn’t satisfied. “You think that makes it okay?”

“You tell me,” she answers coolly. “What makes the deaths of those you’ve killed okay?”

“Everyone I’ve killed deserved it. Even then, I never did it lightly.”

“Oh, really? And what did Terrell Milton do to deserve death?”

Skimming her memory, Eleanor comes up empty. “Who?”

“Terrell Milton. He was walking his dog when chunks of concrete crushed him. The collapsed balcony of the Cunningham Hotel.”

Eleanor’s face drains of color as she awkwardly adjusts her hands on the wheel.

She didn’t consider collateral damage at the time. She had to stop Jon Lassiter. That was the only concern she had. She knew the falling debris of the platform she destroyed had surely killed someone, but it had to be done.

If Lassiter won and got his hands on Cross and the Dark Force, he could have caused incalculable destruction. Whatever damage the balcony collapse caused was a cost that had to be paid. Of course that would be a hard sell to Terrell Milton’s family. At least someone like Mahloof was a danger. Milton was just a guy walking his dog.

“Point taken,” she finally mutters.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Warwick,” Jessie chides from the back. “How do you even know this Milton guy even exists?”

“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” Grey returns.

“Doesn’t matter. If it wasn’t Terrell Milton, it was someone else. There’s no way that collapse didn’t kill someone.”

“And their dog.”

Jessie leans forward and growls at the agent. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?”

“It’s okay, Jessie.” Eleanor glances up to look at her in the rear-view mirror, flashing her a grateful smile. With a huff, the hellblood crosses her arms and drops back in her seat.

As quiet resumes, Eleanor finds her mind drifting to Terrell Milton. It’s a train of thought that could lead to distraction and hesitation. Silence is going to be her enemy for the rest of the drive. “Now you tell me something, Grey.” The agent turns a passive gaze toward her. “Why are you here?”

“Meaning?”

“Well, you said you weren’t with the agency anymore. For some reason, I believe you. So why are you here?”

Grey turns back to the window without offering an answer. Seeing herself in the reflection of the glass reminds her of watching her flight leave without her. As well as the sick feeling in her stomach that she’s making a terrible mistake.

She can feel Blackwell’s eyes burning into her and Warwick’s glances. They’re expecting an answer. “It’s my responsibility.”

“How do you figure that?” Eleanor asks. “Seems like it’s your replacement’s job.”

“It is. Why do you think they aren’t with us? They rushed me out, thank you for that, so they’re on their own.”

“Wow. I was confident Penny could get me some breathing room, but I didn’t think she could get you fired.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I had already handed in my resignation. You just expedited the process.”

“So if it’s their problem then I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Your kids?”

Grey slowly turns her narrowed eyes toward the driver. “Excuse me?”

“What? You research every aspect of my life, and you don’t expect me to do the same?”

“Fair enough,” Grey answers with a sigh, turning back to the window. “Yes. My kids.”

“Are they why you started doing this in the first place?”

“Warwick. I’m not interested in telling you my life story.”

“You might as well,” Jessie advises with an ample helping of snark. “She’ll get it out of you eventually.”

The reflection in the window frowns. Her children are the last thing she wants to discuss, but she would be lying if she doesn’t feel a strange need to unburden herself. Even if only to convince herself she’s doing the right thing. “No. I knew what I wanted to do long before I had children.”

“Must have been tough. Being a mom and a government agent.”

“Not at first. I was officed at an FBI branch in Illinois. We were able to keep the kids in one place, and I saw them every day like any other parent. When I was recruited by the agency, things changed.”

“How?”

“The agency only recruits the very best,” Grey answers without a hint of self-glorification. “It grants its agents the highest security clearance the United States government allows. Given the strict requirements, the agency functions with only a few small teams of agents, each given a massive caseload. We travel all over the country and work long hours.”

“But you joined anyway.”

Grey nods absently. “I knew that any organization that was that secret was policing something big. Something that was a threat to everything and everyone. I wasn’t quite prepared for what it actually turned out to be, but when I was briefed, I knew I’d made the right choice.

“The world was a far more dangerous place than I thought, and I already thought it was very dangerous. If the few people like me who can respond to these dangers don’t step up and do it, then no one is safe. I had to leave my kids behind to protect them.”

“Well then why’d you quit?” Jessie asks with a bit of an accusatory edge.

Hesitation precedes her answer. She can’t believe she’s talking about this. Perhaps if she had talked about it before, she might have been able to better balance her life. “With me gone all the time, my marriage unraveled. My husband had an affair with a co-worker of his. It didn’t even bother me that much.

“It was just one more thing I chalked up to necessary sacrifice. When he filed for divorce, he claimed alienation of affection. It was hard to argue with. But it was when he filed for sole custody of the kids that I decided to resign. It was sort of a wake-up call. It made me realize just how terrible a mother I’ve been.”

“Okay. I’m confused,” says Eleanor with a shake of her head. “You resigned so you could go back to them, but then you didn’t. Why not?”

The reflection in the Hornet’s window scowls back at Grey. She remembers the day Marcus came to see her. She was in Dearborn, Michigan tracking a suspected vampire. He traveled hundreds of miles to tell her in person. To tell her about Sheila. About the affair. That he was in love with her. That he wanted a divorce.

She remembered going through the motions. She yelled, she cried, but inside she felt empty. There was nothing where pain and betrayal was supposed to be.

Then she went back to work. Right then. She barely took five minutes to collect herself. By the time the vamp was ash and her team prepared to move on, she had nearly forgotten about it. Her marriage was already dead. It died long before Marcus came to Dearborn. His desire for separation was little more than a formality.

But then the kids. He wanted to take them away. There was real emotion then. Real hurt and desperation. Yet, once again, she was right back to work. She constantly had to remind herself as to what waited after she finished the job.

When Marshal relieved her, all she could think about was Warwick besting her, about her job being half-done. It’s slightly embarrassing for her to recall practically running out of the station house. Not running to her kids, but away from her work.

It caught up with her. She can almost feel the sensation of crushing the plane ticket in her hand as she had mere moments after hanging up on the agent. She isn’t there because she must be. She’s there because she chose to be.

It’s the hardest thing she’s ever had to admit to herself.

Eleanor stares ahead, not sure what to say. The silence that replaces an answer makes the previous quiet seem pleasant. “Well...I guess it’s not really- .”

“What the fuck is that?” Jessie asks as she leans forward.

Eleanor looks into the sky and sees the unnatural gathering of dark, menacing clouds in the distance. The inner-most area of the plume is pitch black. Winds pick up as the Hornet travels toward the bizarre weather.

“Let me guess,” Grey says, immediately refocused, “that’s where we’re headed.”

With a nod, Eleanor tightens her grip on the wheel and guns the engine. “That’s right.”

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