Chapter 10 · The 3 A.M. Body

Three in the morning and I'm standing in the middle of Fifth Street watching a sedan flip end over end.

It's fake. I know it's fake because the driver's not screaming and the metal doesn't sound right when it hits pavement. Too hollow. Like someone recorded a crash and played it back through cheap speakers.

But my body doesn't care what I know. I'm already moving.

The sedan lands on its roof twenty feet from me. Glass everywhere. The streetlights catch it and turn the asphalt into a field of stars. I hit my knees next to the driver's side window and reach in.

The man inside is maybe forty. Balding. Blood running down his temple. His eyes find mine and he smiles.

"Aiden Crow," he says. His voice is wrong. Too many echoes. "The Merciful."

I freeze.

No human knows that name. The Merciful was what they called me in the first fifty years. Before I learned mercy got you exiled.

"Who sent you?" I grab his collar and haul him through the window. He's lighter than he should be. When I get him onto the sidewalk I see why—his legs end at the knees. Not cut. Just... absent.