The sunset over the Hudson River was no brighter or longer-lasting than anywhere else. After barely an hour, that warm glow vanished. As night fell over Hell's Kitchen, Schiller, sitting in the clinic, stood up to turn on the lights.
Daredevil Matt had gone blind later in life. He had been blinded by radioactive material spilled from a truck while saving a blind man. Since his optic nerves were still intact, modern medicine might have given him a chance to see again, but he did not need it.
The Mind's Eye ability he possessed allowed his other enhanced senses to sketch the world around him in his mind, even in greater detail than many people could see, without being limited by a visual field.
Thus, the instant Schiller rose to turn on the lights, Matt's brows furrowed slightly. The muscles beneath his suit tensed, strength gathering at his waist like a beast arching its body, ready to strike at any moment.
Matt's eyes could not sense light. After hearing several clicks of switches being flipped, he felt Schiller sit back down.
"Another drink?" Matt asked, his unfocused eyes turned toward the wineglass in front of Schiller.
"No." Schiller shook his head. Then he crossed one leg over the other, placed his hands before him, and said, "It's too sweet."
"Then have some more fish."
"I'm not interested in raw food." Schiller lowered his gaze to the few remaining slices of Mikan Tai sashimi on the plate and shook his head.
"Looks like you're the old stick-in-the-mud Schiller mentioned, the one who likes sherry." Matt did not seem particularly surprised. He merely picked up the ice wine beside him and poured himself another glass, then placed a slice of fish onto his plate with his chopsticks.
"I regret his tendency to