Laughter and chatter filled the air. While she kept her attention on the crowd, Tony perused the sunglass selection with avid fascination.
“You know,” he joked, pointing a pair of Rayban knockoffs at her. “If this were a movie, we’d be in the montage.”
“How can you joke at a time like this?”
“What, this? This is nothing. This is a collection of misguided photographers trying to make a living.” He pulled out a pair of gold John Lennon glasses. “Now these are more your style.”
She put them back on the rack and then added the ones from their faces. “We’re not really here to buy sunglasses. We just need to look different.”
She removed her bomber jacket and tucked it behind the caravan. She’d pick that up later if they had a chance. She then made the gimme sign to Tony.
He watched her, eyes sparkling with some kind of mischievous thought. Slowly, he peeled his jacket from his sculptured shoulders, and slung it around hers, enveloping her in the warmth he’d left behind. He retrieved his baseball cap from his back pocket and slung it on his head, turning the peak to the back. It made his face even more devastatingly handsome. With a growing grin, he dug his fingers into her hair and gently tugged on the tie that secured her ponytail. Never breaking his intense eye contact, he slid the tie down the silken length until her hair cascaded around her shoulders. She watched the amused light in his eyes heat as he took in a breath of her scented shampoo. And when he touched his nose to her head and inhaled again, he hummed deliciously. The velvet smooth timber of his voice penetrated deep within her body, hitting hotly between her thighs.
God, he was...
He made her speechless.
And when he looked at her like that, her heart pounded.
Satisfied with his handiwork, he cast an appreciative eye over her transformation and gave her hair a final fluff.
“That’s better.” Then he crowded her with his big body and pushed her toward the shadowed gap between the two caravan stalls. Against the side, he pinned her with his hips, driving her into the corrugated metal wall. She gripped his broad shoulders for balance. His hands slid up her waist, grazed over her breasts and continued up to her collarbone where he pressed her in place while he said, “We’ll just have to stay here until they’re gone. I’m sure we can think of something to do.”
Dipping, he placed his lips on her neck. Nerves combusted. Shivers ran down her body. Sparks of pleasure zipped up her spine, and all from the simple press of his mouth against her skin. She was usually more reserved than this, but her body arched into him, her breath hitched. The swell of her breasts pushed into his chest, and a long strangled growl came from his throat.
“When I get you alone,” he promised against her skin.
A lick up the tendon in her neck, a nip on her jaw, a nibble on her earlobe. He would feast on her, and she would like it.
Later.
Right now, they were in public, and over his shoulder she could see the disapproving stares of a woman with her teenage daughter.
“Tony—”
He swallowed her protest with a hot demanding kiss that left her breathless.
“We can’t,” she tried again, but he lifted her by the waist and directed her thighs until her legs gripped his hips. Then he shifted them around to the back of the caravan where the shadows of the trees provided cover. Rocking his pelvis into her, she lost all sense. She drove her tongue into his mouth and succumbed. He shifted her weight and twisted, stumbling the two of them away from the van, and into the shrubbery behind. Bailey caught a glimpse of rows of bushes, maybe hedges. Tony found a gap and, still kissing, they stumbled through.
Somewhere.
She had no idea where, except the sounds of the market dimmed and the chirp of crickets grew louder. Then Tony tripped. They fell to the grass and rolled, laughing. Ending up with Tony’s hard body on top, he braced himself on elbows beside her head. His hat had fallen, and his hair draped over his eyes. Looking down at her with bright eyes, he gave her a quick kiss and then lifted his head, searching around.
“I have no idea where we are,” he whispered with exaggerated drama.
It was some sort of grassed clearing, or rather a lack of trees and shrub. The park was huge. If Bailey remembered correctly, the lake wasn’t too far off.
“Nowhere,” she said. “We’re nowhere important.”
Blue light sparked in his eyes, giving her a glimpse of his power. He dove to her neck and grumbled against her skin, “Perfect.”
She shivered and delighted in the feel of his five o’clock stubble rubbing against her skin. I can’t believe I’m giving in to this feeling.
It felt good.
Leaves rustled to their right.
Abruptly, they stopped. Both froze, high on alert.
“Did you hear that?” Bailey hissed, alarm needling her skin.
“Shh.” He cocked his head, listening to the park, or... perhaps his sixth sense.
She only heard the crickets, a rustling of leaves, and a masculine repetitive grunt.
For a moment, they looked at each other, wide-eyed and about to laugh. Was it another pair of lovers hiding away? But then there was a strangled cry and a feminine shout of frustration. A thud as though something was hit. A hiss. A slither. There were more than two people, and... a thwack and crack.
Tony leaped off Bailey’s body. “I sense gluttony.”
She darted a glance toward the market. “Back there?”
He shot her a grim look and pointed further into the bushland. “It’s deadly. You should go.”
Gritting her teeth, she shook her head, and when a white-robed person in a white Halloween mask burst through the bushes, she unclipped her firearm. What the hell?
Tony cursed. “Faithful.”
Eighteen
Tony pulled the Faithful by the scruff of his robe. “What are you doing here?”
But the masked man only shook his head. Panicked black eyes flashed at Tony through the simple mask slits. “It’s-oh-my-god-it’s...”
The man kept pointing behind him, to the crashing sounds behind the shrubs. Suddenly he looked down at himself. Thin dark ropes came from nowhere to slip around the white robe, gathering its folds and tightening.
Jesus. What was that?
“No!” shouted the Faithful. “Get it off me.”
“The rope? It’s moving. Is this some kind of trick?”
“It’s not rope, it’s—” The man was sucked back into the bush, leaving Tony with his hands splayed in front of him, grasping air.
“What the fuck was that?” he burst out.
Heaving breaths made him turn around. Bailey’s big eyes were like orbs, her face had a greenish hue. She gripped her gun with pale knuckles. She still stared at the spot the Faithful had vacated.
“It wasn’t rope,” she said, voice trembling. “It was a vine. A living, moving vine. I’m sure of it.”
“No. That’s not possible.” But as the words slipped out, he knew he was wrong. With the presence of the Faithful, the Syndicate weren’t far behind. Only a few short months ago Tony had come across some wild, deformed and rabid beasts in the wilderness—results of an experiment to hunt down sinners. A moving plant? He wouldn’t put it past them.
“Shit.” He pulled out his cell. Who would he call? Parker with his judgement? Griffin or Evan... Wyatt. It would have to be someone powered. Sloan... but who would be best to handle a plant?
All of them?
Damn it. He should have worn the communicator watch Sloan had created a few months ago. It was for moments like this when under civilian cover, he could just hit the alarm and send it back to base. Tony hadn’t even worn his Deadly suit recently. He was way out of the game. He just never thought this mess would come to his doorstep. Shit.
Somewhere behind the bushes, a gurgled scream punctuated the surge of grimy gluttony rolling in his gut. With a jolt, he realized the sin came from the same direction as the screams. Whatever it was, it was fe
eding, and from the screams, it was the Faithful who was the meal.
He’d tried to avoid the fact that he was made for this, but there was no escaping it now. He looked at the blue liquid glitter running in his veins, ready to release on his bidding. This was his purpose.
“Call for backup. Parker is on speed dial.” He lobbed his cell to Bailey, and then ducked through the bush, aiming for the direction the sick feeling in his gut churned the most. When he burst out of the shrubbery and into another clearing, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The member of the Faithful was wrapped up like a Christmas ham, vines tangled around him, slowly choking to death. But the worst thing, the most mind-boggling thing that almost made him believe he’d stepped onto a movie set, was the humanoid plant behind it all.
Standing well over seven feet tall, the two-legged monster was a mass of writhing tentacle vines. Each vine striated along the body like muscle fiber, a botanical cadaver with the skin pulled back. There were slits for eyes and a gaping maw filled with sharp thorns for teeth. Twigs and leaves sprung from the head, as though it were trying to grow hair. Roots from its legs buried into the ground for grip. It had one viney arm splayed to the right, holding another Faithful at bay, and one to the left, wrapped around the throat of a woman dressed in black yoga pants, her long silver hair escaping the raised hood. He wasn’t used to seeing her out of her white leather, but the woman being strangled was unmistakably his sister.
“Daisy?”
The hooded figure looked his way, revealing wide violet eyes and a pale face turned red from exertion. Her fingers scrabbled at the vine wrapping her throat. She was choking.
Power rippled up his spine and surged at his fingertips. Blue light illuminated the clearing. He launched at the plant-man with only one thought. He mustn’t let Daisy die.
His fingers wrapped around a low tendril, and blue fire shot out of his hands, smoking and sizzling the creature’s green flesh. A searing sound ripped through the air. The monster screeched but didn’t let go of Daisy. It kicked Tony away and sent accusatory eyes—slits— at Daisy, as if this was all her fault. But it didn’t let go. It choked and shook Daisy until her hood fell back. Her long pale hair trailed about as her head moved like a rag doll.
Weapon, Tony needed a weapon.
“Sword,” Daisy hissed. It was all she could say. She couldn’t point because her fingers were the only thing keeping her neck free enough to breathe. She glanced down to her right.
A long thin metal object, only a few feet away.
Sword.
Tony reached for it, lunged, but something caught at his feet and he fell. It was another vine, or root curling around his ankle. Godammit. Stupid move! Quickly recovering, his hand hit the hilt of the sword, and he twisted, arcing the blade overhead. It sliced through the viney arm, severing Daisy from the main body. The monster screeched inhumanly. The length around Daisy’s neck hit the floor. Some parts shriveled and stilled, others writhed and slivered back until it rejoined the larger beast.
“What the flying fuck was that?” he gasped, sword rotating in his wrist until it was at the ready. How the hell was he supposed to stop that thing? It regrew body parts.
The two Faithful it ate were already dead. Their masks had long since fallen. A dried mummified husk was all that remained of them. The root around his ankle tightened, cutting off his circulation. He placed his palm over the ropy cord and called on his power. Blue fire spit out, catching the plant and his jeans on fire. The vine shriveled away from the heat. Tony patted his jeans to stop the flames spreading.
Again. That was stupid.
“Tony?” Bailey’s voice cut through his heart.
She stood inches from the plant thing, firearm aimed and locked, eyes wide as a tendril crept toward her face in a way that almost seemed inquisitive.
“Don’t shoot!” Tony said, holding his palm out. “People will come.”
But Bailey was beyond comprehension. She pointed the gun between the plant thing’s eyes and fired. A loud crack echoed through the trees, and birds took to the twilight sky. But the creature didn’t stop. Its vine kept coming for Bailey. It wanted her.
“Don’t let it touch her,” Daisy rasped. “Neurotoxin.”
Shit. Taking a giant leap, Tony shoved Bailey out of the way, and then went for the humanoid mass. He powered up until heat emanated in the air, casting a shimmering mirage of blue around him, and then he dove at its midsection. The moment he connected, the thing screeched in agony. Tony tried to grab hold of it, but anytime his hand connected, it slipped beneath him like a thousand worms wriggling and sliding. The creature recalibrated itself to adjust for the pieces Tony had burned or pulled off. It reformed and reshaped, but most importantly, it fled.
Tony’s fire must have kept him safe from the toxin, because he felt no ill effects on his hands as he fired. Faster than Tony could grasp, every last bit of vine and root slithered away, camouflaging itself in the local greenery. When the last leaf and root had gone, Tony rolled and crawled across the grass to Bailey. Sitting on her ass, with her hands loosely hanging at the side, she looked stunned, and he couldn’t tell if it was just emotionally, or literally. Had she been poisoned by the neurotoxin? Her gun had left her hands and lay a few feet from her.
“Babe, are you okay?” he asked, searching for signs. He clutched her face between his hands and turned her to look at him.
Blinking, her pupils contracted. “It was alive. The plant was alive.”
“I know. It’s gone.”
“I mean, I’ve seen some shit, but that was next level cray. You’re not doing your prank thing, are you? Like, are you sure we didn’t stumble onto a movie set?”
“That’s what I had thought,” he mumbled. “It’s not a prank.”
He glanced around the clearing. Two dead bodies—mummified corpses were all that remained. It was gone.
“I can’t sense it anymore. It’s not feeding.”
After a quick squeeze to Bailey’s shoulder, Tony pushed up to a knee, and then stood. He turned around and found Daisy standing over the two Faithful. She held her sword in one hand, and Bailey’s firearm in the other.
There was something about the scene that gave Tony pause. He studied his eldest sibling without her mask. Her long silver hair was tied messily at her nape, bits escaped and flowing. She had a delicate face accentuated by strong bone structure. Fine white scars laced over one side of her face. She had the same wide lips as the rest of them, a trait he’d learned had come from their biological mother. Those lips had probably never smiled, not since she was seven and he was three and she used to tickle him in the stomach to make him forget about the fact they were locked in a room. Daisy didn’t like sorrow, and back then, her way to get rid of it was to make the person happy. Now, she killed them.
Out of her white death-dealer’s uniform, she appeared almost normal.
A pang hit him squarely in the chest. Maybe she’d never had the chance to learn to smile. For all Tony knew, the woman had been raised as a robot, conditioned to do the Syndicate’s bidding and little else. Sinners from the Hildegard Sisterhood came to mind. Like his mother Mary, they were stolen as little girls from their childhood homes or orphanages, and taught to be ruthless seductress assassins, so when they grew to adulthood they knew nothing of love and affection. It was use your body to infiltrate. Kill or be killed. It was fortunate Mary had met Flint and turned their life around.
But Mary had been at least ten years younger than Daisy was now. Could Daisy still turn her life around?
He wasn’t sure. Sloan had tried to give her a chance, and the woman had kidnapped and tortured Max. Max had insisted Daisy held back her full wrath, and in the end there was a note pinned to Max’s chest, outlining how to save him from the poison he’d been injected with.
The only thing Tony knew was that his sister was confused.
“Daisy,” he ventured.
She looked over, eyes blank. Unlike last time they’d crossed paths, she didn’t correct
him and tell her to call her Despair. That was progress, he guessed.
“Come home. Let’s talk about this.”
“I have to find it,” she rasped, voice flat. “This is my fault.”
He paused, unsure what to say. When no one spoke, he added, “What the hell was that thing?”
She shook her head. “It only wants to be free, but I have angered it now. I have betrayed it by coming here to destroy it. It was so sad in the cage. It was like us.”
“It’s taking lives.”
“It is what we made it.” A tiny frown pushed Daisy’s straight brows together. Her voice lowered. “It is my fate.”
Tony eyed the fallen piece of withered plant arm, severed by the sword. “You said neurotoxin. What did you mean?”
“It can excrete a toxin that paralyzes prey before it eats.” She rubbed her raw and puckered neck. “My body is fighting it as we speak.”
That’s why her tone was still husky. A normal person without regeneration and advanced healing would have choked on the poison.
Concern for Bailey’s safety wrapped around his heart. She should have gone when he’d told her too. If that vine had hit her skin, she could be dead. A full body panic, like he’d never known before, engulfed him. Already he couldn’t comprehend a life without Bailey. He could completely understand why Wyatt was so overprotective of Misha.
“You sensed it,” Daisy accused. “You must help me find it.”
He raised a brow. Must?
“You want it dead. I want it dead. We will work together.”
Tony turned to Bailey. “Did you call for backup?”
She nodded.
“No,” Daisy snapped and pointed the gun at Tony. “Just you.” But then she shifted her aim to Bailey. “And you.”
“I don’t think so. Bailey’s not involved in this. Let her go.”
“She’s the only guarantee I have that you will help me. Give me your cell phones.”
They had no choice but to comply. Daisy fired a shot at each phone, not caring about the explosive sound cracking through the park.
Gluttony Page 15
