Lust

by Lana Pecherczyk

“Joe.” Liza’s footsteps thudded behind him. “Wait up.”

  His lips pinched at the sides. He stopped just outside the glass door entrance.

  She handed him the baseball. “You forgot this.”

  He put it in his jacket pocket and opened the door. “After you.”

  There was one thing Joe knew to be true about Liza Lazarus; it was her inability to let go of a sore subject. She’d once raved about a poor umpiring decision for her favorite team for two days. She’d even gone so far as to replay the video and thrust it on anyone who’d listen and then draw diagrams on napkins to explain her reasoning. He’d only replied, “The umpire is always right.” Which, of course, infuriated her further. The look she sent him now was just like then. She wasn’t done, but she would let him have some space.

  Inside Heaven, the smell of butter and garlic made his mouth water. People were crowded into booths. A waiter dropped a tray, the female chef shouted something from the kitchen, and there was a line at the cash register.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” he suggested.

  “Bullshit,” she replied. “This is fine. I’m starving, and there’s a private room out the back.”

  The head waiter noticed Liza and came over from the kitchen.

  “Liza,” he said, then glanced at Joe. “I’m afraid there aren’t any tables free, but if you and your guest don’t mind dining with the rest of your family, there is space in the VIP room.”

  She nodded. “I thought they might be here.”

  This should be interesting. Perhaps he’d garner more information during this lunch meeting than he could at a poker night with the guys from the station.

  Joe followed Liza through the busy restaurant to a space near the corridor that went to the bathrooms. The waiter knocked on a frosted glass door. Conversation within hushed. The waiter paused, glanced at Liza, and on her nod, opened the door.

  Inside, six people sat at the long table. Although Joe hadn’t officially met them all, he recognized most from his case files or from seeing them when he was younger. Sloan and her fiancé, Max, sat on one side. Max was Caucasian and looked like he spent his time at the beach rather than the inner city. Liza’s mother and father, Mary and Flint, were on the other side of the long table. Flint’s long arm rested over Mary’s chair.

  Next to him sat a brown-skinned woman wearing a black bomber jacket with a security emblem. It matched what Max wore, so Joe assumed this was Bailey Haze, Tony’s fiancé, who also worked with Max at Nightingale Securities.

  And then there was the last person, sitting at the head of the table. Joe had to stifle his visceral reaction of contempt for the man—Parker Lazarus. The tall, aristocratic, and egotistical asshole probably deserved to act the way he did. He had the looks, the hair, the body, and the brain. The man was the genius who’d invented many life-saving and environment-saving devices in demand around the world. He’d single-handedly made Lazarus Tech a Fortune 500 company.

  He’d been none of those things when he’d said Joe would never be good enough for Liza and then warned Joe away with his very convincing fists. From where Joe sat, it was the Lazarus family who wasn’t good enough for Liza.

  He stared at the man whose piercing golden eyes watched him back. Parker picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth, and stood as Liza began the introductions.

  “You remember my parents, Mary and Flint,” she said.

  He met their eyes and nodded. I’ll investigate you later.

  “And this is Bailey, Tony’s fiancé. She works with Max there, and you know Sloan.”

  “S’up, bras.” Sloan gave a crooked, amused smile.

  Max reached around Sloan’s shoulders and rested his arm in a possessive way. He gave Joe a cordial tip of the chin, but his eyes betrayed his wariness.

  “And, of course, that big meathead over there is Parker.”

  The air tightened with stress as they waited for Parker to react. His eyes slid to Liza, his brow raised, and then he stood. With dramatic flair, he buttoned his designer blazer and then strode over.

  Joe’s trigger finger twitched.

  Joe hated that he had to look up to meet Parker’s gaze. Something wild and feral prowled behind Parker’s tawny stare that disagreed with his careful deportment. But he hid it well. Parker never once conceded his gaze, but this time, Joe didn’t back down. He’d never do so again.

  “You two in love, or something?” Liza scoffed. “You want me to leave?”

  Parker held out his hand. “Welcome back.”

  Joe squinted at it.

  A man’s metal was tested by the way he shook hands. Limp and sweaty, or hard and firm. Did he lock eyes, or look away? Did he dominate, or submit?

  Joe grasped Parker’s outstretched hand—firm, calloused, warm—surprising.

  “It’s good to be back,” Joe replied.

  Parker held Joe’s grip, stared, and then bared a toothy grin that looked more like a warning snarl from an apex predator. Parker let go first and then turned to Liza.

  “I’m needed back at the office. When I get home, we’ll talk.”

  Joe watched Parker stride away. The man never once looked back. Predators rarely did.

  But they should.

  “Joe.” Liza’s voice drew his attention back to her. “What do you want to eat?”

  She sat down in Parker’s vacated seat, which left a spot next to Sloan, or Bailey. He chose Bailey.

  She smiled warmly and handed him a menu. While he perused, menial conversation picked up at the table. After he’d ordered a fillet steak, and the waiter left, he turned to Bailey who’d been waiting to talk.

  “You’re a Fed, right?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  She pointed at herself. “Ex CIA.”

  “Right,” he said as if he didn’t know. “And how did you fall in with this lot?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I made the mistake of falling in love with Tony.”

  “Mistake?”

  She laughed. “Only because we can’t seem to stay away from each other. He’s not here. He’s volunteering at a half-way house right now. What about you? How do you know Liza? Through work?”

  “You don’t know?” he asked.

  “He used to pull Liza’s pigtails,” Sloan interjected.

  “I didn’t,” he scoffed.

  “Yeah, you did. Never pulled mine, though.” She waggled her brows.

  He shook his head, cheeks heating despite him willing them not to.

  Sloan laughed. “Little Joey liked her. Just admit it.”

  A thump under the table. Cutlery jumped and tinkled. Sloan’s eyes narrowed and shot to Liza.

  “Ow,” Sloan said through her teeth.

  Liza glared back.

  “What?” Sloan lifted her palms. “I don’t need my—”

  Another thump.

  Mary cleared her throat. “Behave, children.”

  Liza sent Joe a tight-lipped smile and then stood. “Sloan. Can I see you outside for a minute?”

  Flint used the opportunity to steer the conversation. “What brings you back to Cardinal City, Joe?”

  “An investigation,” he replied, and looked him directly in the eyes.

  10

  Liza yanked her blabbermouth sister outside the private dining room and dragged her partway down the hallway that led to the restrooms.

  “Ow,” Sloan whined. “What gives?”

  She shrugged out of Liza’s hold. Simultaneously, both winced as their sin-sensing came back now they’d reached the limit of their mate’s nullification.

  Liza rubbed her gut.

  “Yeah,” Sloan murmured. “It takes a little getting used to.”

  Liza took a few deep breaths. “Is it always like this?”

  Sloan nodded. “The second I leave Max’s radius, I feel it. Sloth, everywhere. Why do you think I’m stuck to him like glue?”

  They stood together, bonded in shared pain. Liza had been about to chew Sloan’s ear off for almost giving away their
secret, but now it seemed rather pointless. Joe would find out eventually, but how long did she wait? She saw the way he looked at Parker. There was deep-seated animosity there, and with Wyatt around, it would only get worse.

  Liza had no idea why Joe hated her two eldest brothers so much.

  “He doesn’t know,” Liza conceded.

  “About… us?” Sloan frowned, and then turned her head back toward the room, as if she could see through the frosted glass. Sloan was an empath. She could not only sense emotions, but make people feel things too. She’d once sent a busload of people to sleep by accident.

  Liza had believed Sloan was the deadliest of them all. She looked down at her own glove-covered hands. Maybe not anymore.

  “When did you know you could trust Max?” Liza asked.

  Sloan shrugged. “He already knew. Parker told him.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Joe’s your mate, right?”

  Liza nodded. “But he’s throwing mixed signals, and he’s resisting my advances. He’s not the same person I used to know. I feel as though he’s keeping something from me.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him.” Sloan’s gaze dipped to Liza’s hands. “You going to tell me what the deal is with your new fashion choice?”

  “What has Mama told you?”

  “Something about poison.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “And?”

  “And, what?”

  “Why do you have your hands covered?”

  “Why do you think, dumbass?”

  “It comes out of your hands? So that’s why Parker wants to talk to you. The sooner you get that under control, the better. Trust me.”

  Liza was about to make a sassy retort, but a sharp, keening twinge in her gut meant only one thing. Her fingers wrapped around the grip of her gun in the holster.

  Sloan stiffened. “What is it? Someone getting lucky?”

  Liza crept back toward the restaurant. Alarm prickled her senses. “No. It’s the other kind of lust. And it’s getting closer.”

  It was the type of lust when someone wanted something deeply, perhaps even enough to kill for it. It hurt more like a sharp twinge in her gut than a slow ache. Liza took two steps past the private room and then came face to face with the reason for her caution.

  Standing two feet away, dressed casually in jeans and a white hoodie, was their eldest sister. The one who’d been working for the enemy. Long silver-white hair draped down her shoulders and hid the faint burn scars on half her face. Vibrant violet eyes blinked at them from an ethereally beautiful face.

  “Holy fuck,” Sloan whispered. “Daisy.”

  Every time Liza saw Daisy, it was a shock to her system. She was as stunning as Liza remembered, but her eyes were empty. They used to be so full of life.

  “Daisy,” Liza said, and waited to be corrected.

  Every time they’d met, Daisy had preferred to be called Despair. But naming each other by their sin was something the Syndicate did. It dehumanized them, and the Lazarus family had made the choice long ago to be better.

  Daisy held her palms out in surrender. “I want to talk.”

  Anticipation buzzed down Liza’s spine as she walked toward a recently vacated booth in the main part of the restaurant. The window to the street was to one side, and on the other, the main bulk of the restaurant.

  Daisy was unarmed and alone. She claimed she only wanted to talk. Liza couldn’t risk Joe finding out about the sister they’d thought dead but had been left behind and now worked for the enemy. It would be too much for him to take. He held no loyalty to Liza’s family, and she knew, without a doubt, that Joe would arrest Daisy, right there and then if he knew the crimes she’d committed.

  Liza motioned for Daisy to get into the horseshoe-shaped booth before sliding in herself. Sloan took the other side of the booth, essentially blocking Daisy’s exit. They were at the opposite end of Heaven from the private room. A myriad of people dined between them and Joe, but Liza couldn’t help feeling nervous. Daisy had spurned their previous offers for her to come back to the family. What had changed?

  “Make a wrong move,” Sloan warned, “And you’ll regret it.”

  “Sloan. Liza.” Daisy tested the names as though learning them. A slight frown marred her pale forehead. “I want to talk. Just us girls.”

  “Then Mama should be here.” Liza pulled out her cell, intending to send a quick text message.

  “You mean the Sinner,” Daisy replied. “She’s not our mother.”

  “Maybe not in blood, but she is in every other way that matters.” Sloan scowled at her.

  “If it’s all the same, she is the one who left me behind. I’d prefer not to have her here.”

  Sloan and Liza studied their sister. There was no way to decipher her true intentions, but Liza couldn’t argue with her point. It was Mary who’d made the tough decision to leave Daisy after she’d run back into the burning building to save their biological mother, a futile feat. Gloria had died anyway.

  “Speak,” Sloan ordered.

  “I… I want to…” Daisy shook her head. “You don’t want me here. I’ll leave.”

  Sloan pushed her back down. “You tortured my fiancé. Of course, I don’t want you here.”

  “Sloan,” Liza said. “We’ve all done bad things. Let’s hear her out.”

  “Easy for you to say, she hasn’t tortured your mate. But there’s still time for that, isn’t there Daisy?”

  Daisy’s eyes crossed to Liza’s. “You’ve found your mate?”

  Idiot, Sloan! Liza glared at her younger sister. Now Daisy knew that Liza’s genetic makeup had been unlocked. The Syndicate had been after a sample of their blood as soon as their powers hit. They wanted to replicate the genetic experiments, this time growing powered clones in tanks, ones that could be controlled and manipulated.

  The Deadly Seven were meant to be weapons of mass destruction. Julius wanted a new world, and he’d wanted the Lazarus siblings to help him. But when Mary and Flint helped them escape from the lab that created them, Julius’s plans were temporarily foiled.

  Liza could see the contemplation in Daisy’s eyes, but she made no move, despite Liza tugging her gloves off beneath the table.

  “Congratulations,” Daisy said.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it,” Daisy confirmed. “I do not wish to hurt you, or your partner. I’m done with Julius.”

  The news hit both Sloan and Liza like a slap to the face. They jerked. Blinked. And then squirmed uncomfortably. Wasn’t this what they’d wanted all this time?

  Then why wasn’t Liza’s doubt assuaged?

  It was that lust she felt… the needy kind. It was laced with something gritty Liza couldn’t put her finger on, only that it made her sick to the core.

  Movement across the restaurant drew Sloan’s attention, and Liza followed her gaze, surprised to see Mary leave the private room and come striding over. Liza sent questioning eyes to her sister. Had she alerted Mary?

  “Daisy.” Mary’s eyes glistened with hope. Her hands trembled as she reached over the table for Daisy, then snatched her hand back to her side. Instead, she slid in next to Sloan.

  “She wants to talk,” Liza offered. “Said she’s done with Julius.”

  “Then you need to come upstairs, Mija. We need complete privacy for this talk. It’s been a long time coming.”

  Sloan shook her head. “No. We’re not inviting her into our homes. No fucking way. Wyatt would have a conniption.”

  Sloan was a baby when they’d escaped the lab. She would have no memories of Daisy. But Liza did. She remembered a lot. She remembered how Daisy had trouble lying. How when she had to, she’d sweat. Liza also remembered how Daisy used to sing a song to calm their nerves before receiving a shot from the scientists. They owed it to let her speak.

  She wasn’t sweating now.

  “Give her a chance, Sloan.” Liza put her gloves on the table.

  “Are you se
rious? It’s a trap.”

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Daisy offered. “About… where I’ve been working.”

  Mary looked at Sloan. “What do you sense, Sloan?”

  “Nothing. The woman has zero emotions.”

  Or she was very good at hiding them. But Daisy hadn’t been able to conceal the lust she felt.

  “Not all of them,” Liza added. “She wants this meeting with us. Bad.”

  “Because she wants your DNA, Liza,” Sloan growled through clenched teeth.

  Daisy shook her head. “They don’t need it anymore. They have enough.”

  Another stab of pain in Liza’s gut had her doubled over. Sloan did the same. They met eyes with dread.

  Deadly sin. Lots of it. Coming in fast.

  Liza searched the restaurant and came up short, but then a ruckus exploded outside. Through Heaven’s windows, a disturbance grew on the street. White robed and masked soldiers flooded the sidewalk. People screamed in terror.

  Sloan’s gaze landed on Daisy. “I hope you choke.”

  Daisy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t bring them. I swear.”

  Another curdling scream. Sloan hit the button on her wristwatch, triggering the alarm to every member of the Deadly Seven, then she launched out of the booth and bolted for the front door.

  Liza gave Daisy a severe glance. “You say you didn’t bring them. Then prove it. Fight with us.”

  Mary already had her cell phone out, but Liza didn’t stay to see who she called. She jogged to the front of the restaurant, pivoted, and held her CCPD badge out.

  “CCPD!” she shouted. “Everyone stay calm. Stay indoors. Stay down and away from the windows.”

  A shout outside cut mid-cry. A thud. A shudder against the window. Liza glanced over her shoulder to see blood spray on the glass door.

  “Shit.” She couldn’t leave Sloan out there on her own. The rest of her siblings weren’t available. Only Wyatt was upstairs in the building, and there was no way Liza was letting him come down. Not with Daisy here. Misha would be left without protection.

  Sloan could be right. This could be a trap.

  Daisy jogged up to Liza’s side. “You need help. Give me a weapon. I will join you.”