Sloth

by Lana Pecherczyk

  Sloan nodded, eyes narrowing. “We didn’t think you all knew about the mating bond.”

  “We only recently found out.” He nodded toward the upturned chair. “Do you mind if I—?”

  No one moved.

  With a jolt, Sloan realized they waited for her permission. Everyone in the room was walking on eggshells—because of her.

  Her mind whirled at the shift in dynamic. What was happening?

  She gave a curt nod, and the man picked up the chair. Flint found another for Beatrix to sit on. Seeing her clutch her father’s arm did something to Sloan’s heart, especially since the girl had worked so hard to help Sloan on the drive over.

  Sloan blurted, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in control of myself. You have to believe I would never willingly hurt either of you. It’s just… in my head at the time, something snapped. I felt your sin, Barry. It’s still there… I thought it would be gone after we stopped you from unleashing those beasts on the city.”

  “It’s okay, love,” Barry fixed the spectacles on his nose. “I don’t blame you. What you went through is something called the Godiver Reflex.”

  Gloria Godiver was the geneticist who created them, and their biological mother. Unease spread through Sloan’s gut.

  “What’s that?” Parker folded his arms.

  “Initially, Gloria was instructed to modify your genome sequence to boost the sense of deadly sin in such a way that had you instinctually motivated to end the sin. A search and destroy urge, if you will. Gloria did this because she was manipulated into believing she was making the world a utopia, however, as you all know, this was not the case. Julius Alcott wanted—sorry, still wants—to unleash you seven upon the world in order to eliminate all sinners indiscriminately. The Godiver Reflex occurs when the body registers too much sin, or too much of its opposing virtue. You become out of balance and will snap. Lucky for you, when Gloria discovered Julius’s true intentions, she secretly changed your DNA with a solution to the reflex by programming a balancing mate. Unlucky, I guess, that the Syndicate have now discovered that if they remove your mate, then this reflex is triggered again.”

  “How do you know this?” Parker asked, then shifted to Flint for confirmation. “I thought you said he wasn’t in the main lab with Gloria.”

  “He wasn’t.” Mary’s eyes narrowed on the man. “How do you know so much, Barry?”

  The scientist sighed, looking much older than his late fifties. “Obviously, you’ve discovered by now that Despair survived the fire. Gloria may have died, but some of her research was also saved. The rest, we surmised from reverse engineering Despair’s modified genetics, and… well, from the recent samples we’ve gathered from your family.”

  “Daisy. We call her Daisy here,” Sloan insisted. “Why didn’t my power work on her?”

  Barry scratched his head. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

  “My new ability just allowed me to send almost everyone in here to sleep. I tried to do that on her, but it didn’t work.”

  “Without running some tests, I couldn’t—”

  “Just take a guess.”

  Parker jumped in. “I think it’s related to mirror neurons and theta waves.”

  “Okay. Right, then. My guess is your power seems related to feelings and emotions. Being linked to mirror neurons would mean that you can make someone believe they’re experiencing the sensations for real. Since this power is stemmed in some sort of empathetic connection, I’m afraid to say that your sister probably has none left.”

  A cloud of dread descended in the room, making it seem like an ice box.

  Sloan shivered. “Are you saying she’s a psychopath?”

  “That moment you had with me, the moment your switch flipped, is not like her. She’s different. She never snaps. It seems as though she’s fully aware of her functions, but somehow emotion stands apart from it. It’s like she’s left her body and watches from a distance. Some sort of dissociative response to her trauma.” Barry’s gaze turned distant. “I watched her play with a killer plant as though it were Catnip.”

  “Hold up—” Tony put his palm in the air. “Did you say killer plant?”

  “Dad?” Beatrix’s voice wavered. “Is this what you’ve been working on?”

  Barry’s head dipped. A frown creased between his brows. He looked ashamed. “Yes and no, love.”

  “Can we get back to what you were saying about Sloan’s blackout?” Parker prompted.

  “Right. Sorry. In order to do that, I need to speak about your eldest sister. I believe she is almost completely inhuman. I’d be grateful she hasn’t developed powers.”

  “Almost.” Tony pointed his finger at Barry. “You said almost.”

  Barry’s eyes lifted heavenward. “I don’t know if this is the truth, or wishful thinking, but Despair—”

  “Daisy!” more than one of them said.

  “—sorry, Daisy. Well, that plant she was playing with is created to seek out the sense of sin, and try to eliminate it. Either by poison, or from strangulation.”

  “Santa mierda.” Mary sat down hard on a stool.

  “The point is, she got too close to one. I tried to help her, but she stopped me. She didn’t want me to hurt the plant at her expense. Someone completely devoid of emotion wouldn’t care if the plant lived or died. For some reason, she did.”

  Parker rubbed the scruff on his jaw, thinking. “She used to love that little potted plant we had in the observation room of the lab we grew up in. Do you remember, Mary?”

  “Yes. I seem to remember her going back for it when we tried to escape.” Mary sighed. “She was the most caring child. This is my fault. I left her behind.”

  “It’s not your fault, Mary,” Flint consoled her. “It was a tough decision to make.”

  “How can we trust you?” Parker asked Barry, coming to stand next to Sloan. He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  The simple gesture sent warmth spiraling through her. She’d come close to committing a heinous act, but her family understood. They had her back. Just like Max had—did. Just like he did. She’d find him and she’d rescue him. Jaw set with determination, she locked eyes with Barry.

  “You feel that sin in me still, Sloan, because I’ll never stop feeling guilty for my part in all this.” Barry’s arm went around his daughter. “I’ll never be sorry for protecting Beatrix, but I should have known any children of Flint’s and Mary’s would be trustworthy. A part of me knew that the instant I saw you at that gala.”

  Flint gave his wife a tender look.

  “There are still things I should be doing.” He shook his head. “So many things I need to make up for.”

  “Well, you can start right now. Tell us what you know,” Parker ordered.

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “Everything. Start with Max. Where would they take him?”

  Mary quickly stepped forward. “Beatrix, would you like to clean up and have something to eat? I’ll take you upstairs.”

  “I’m not leaving my father.”

  “It’s all right, poppet.” Barry kissed her on the cheek. “We know why Sloan reacted the way she did. Now that we know, we can monitor her. It’s safe.”

  Beatrix cast Sloan a worried glance. “Are you sure?”

  It took some convincing, but eventually Mary got Beatrix to leave with her. Flint got Barry a drink of water. Not willing to wait until everyone was ready to chat, Sloan continued her onslaught on the man-hunting databases of the country. She found a few pictures of Max’s face from different angles and uploaded them to the search parameters.

  The minute Beatrix left the room, Sloan asked again, “Where’s Max, Barry?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She exhaled. It was fine. She was going to find him. She ground her teeth and kept working.

  “But I can tell you why he was taken.”

  Sloan’s fingers paused, clenched. She lifted her gaze to the man. “Elaborate.”

  Don’t throttle him. D
on’t throttle him. Put that anger in a box.

  Goddammit. She was going to have so many boxes that when she worked out how to unpack them, it would be like the Grinch’s Christmas stash.

  Barry took a deep breath. “From what we gathered, this mating bond was a failsafe. It was Gloria’s way of putting a Band-Aid on the mess she’d made.”

  “Hey!” Tony waved his hand. “We’re standing right here.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean it like that. I mean, the modified beings—you all—couldn’t be controlled once matured. The mating bond would not only give you all the tools to survive and live rationally, but to flourish. Take that away… and Alcott gets his monsters back.” Barry shifted his tie, gentling his fingers around his neck. “As we’ve already witnessed.”

  “Shi-yet.” Tony scrubbed his hand over his face. “You’re telling us… that those who’ve had their powers unlocked are ticking time-bombs?”

  Realization dawned on Evan’s face. “You mean they might try to separate Grace from me? Just like they’ve done to Sloan?”

  “Exactly!” Sloan said, voice raised and tight. “They’ve taken Max. Can we please get to the business of finding him?”

  She rubbed her temples.

  “Whatever we can do, Sloanie, you know that.” Evan’s chin jutted. “As soon as we’ve got actionable intel, it’s all hands on deck. In the meantime, I’m finding Grace. We need to alert Wyatt and Griff. And God knows what we’re going to tell Max’s team.”

  Sloan jumped to her feet. “Max is a priority. Max!”

  With a calm, patient tone, Evan spoke. “I know that, Sloan, but what’s worse than one of us unhinged?” He arched a brow. “All of us.”

  Evan left the room.

  Energy bubbled within Sloan, and she couldn’t contain it. Her jaw clenched so tight, she almost cracked her teeth. She had to do something. Holding her emotions in check took every ounce of control. Sounds warbled in her ears, and she fell forward to brace herself on the table. Deep breaths punctuated the conversation going on around her.

  “I can’t deal with this.” Her eyes burned. “I need to find Max.”

  It was an urge tugging deeper within her body, underneath the sin sense… it was Max, but where the sin-sensing gave her a direction to follow, the pain from losing Max was just a gaping hole spreading. It terrified her.

  Seeing her struggle, Tony came over and placed a steady palm on her back. “You’re slipping Sloan. Rein it in.”

  “Can’t.”

  “You can.”

  “No.”

  “What would Max tell you right now? Think of him.”

  She shut her eyes and pictured Max. His sunshine face and coconut musk. His winking smirk and his serious stare. His smooth breezy voice.

  You got this.

  Sloan calmed. Blood flowed in her body again and she sent Tony a small smile. “Thanks for talking me off the ledge.”

  His lips curved slightly, eyes softening. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s coming down from a high.”

  “That’s not true. You’re—”

  “Doesn’t matter. Forget it.” Tony shook his head.

  Parker’s voice floated back into her void. “Barry, are you telling me you have absolutely no idea where they might have taken Max?” Parker moved in on him, and bent to meet his eyes. The intimidation factor worked well with Parker. Anyone would be afraid of a giant grizzly getting in their face. “What about the black site, would they go back?”

  “They won’t take Max there.” Barry shook his head. “Not since you’ve seen it. They’ll most likely keep the projects running at the site, though. They think they’re untouchable.”

  A spark ignited in Sloan’s memory and she jolted upright. “I can’t believe I forgot. The backdoor program I installed. I need to access it now. There might be something on it. Wait.” She bit her lip, turning to Parker. “You don’t think they know, do you?”

  “Unlikely,” he responded. “They probably think we were there to rescue Barry but, just in case, be quick and start accessing now.”

  “On it.” Sloan shuffled back onto her stool and accessed the terminal on her laptop. After a few directives, she plugged in the IP address of her target. “I got this.”

  Twenty-Two

  In the car that had spirited him away, they’d put a hessian bag over Max’s head and tied his wrists together with a cable tie. The ride from Beatrix’s dormitory took a few hours, and the sounds of traffic, horns blaring and people talking had eventually filtered through. He guessed he was back in Cardinal City.

  Sloan and the rest would be looking for him. Would they think to look in their own backyard?

  Daisy had deposited him in a small, windowless, empty room. She’d attached chain manacles to his ankles and wrists and then left.

  That was hours ago.

  Running escape scenarios occupied his thoughts for a while. He then moved to basic training practices, drills, and techniques for handling capture by the enemy. He refused to lose control of his thoughts, afraid that if he did, he’d be haunted by memories.

  When he ran out of mental training sessions, he shifted thoughts to Sloan. She’d always been his security blanket while he was on a mission. Thinking of her was a comforting routine. If he ever felt lonely, or desperate, he’d conjure the sight of her pretty face, rosy lips and lusty, larger-than-life laugh. Usually they were playing a game—that’s all they seemed to do when they’d first met. Her rusty voice in his ear. Her face on the screen in a small box, next to the bigger screen displaying the game play. He’d never admit this to her, but sometimes she’d beat him, or he’d screw up the game because he’d be looking at her face instead of the game. He’d loved watching how her eyes turned narrow and dark, and how a little pink flash of tongue would sit at the corner of her lips when she concentrated. The complete opposite of the face she made when he brought her to climax in the cave. A dark stain to her cheeks. Lips, all plump from being ravished. That sense of urgency, of need, in her expression.

  A flood of warmth filled his body. That face was a new memory to add to his arsenal, and if he got out of this, he’d make it his mission to see that face in the light of day.

  Sighing, Max leaned his head back on the cold wall and looked at the ceiling. It, too, was plain.

  This waiting was a tactic. He’d used it himself against the enemy. Leave them with nothing but their own thoughts and doubts. Make them fragile.

  But he wouldn’t reveal secrets, no matter what they did. He was special forces. Like Gale, he’d been trained hard and his resilience was implacable. The only way they’d get secrets from him would be to pry them from his cold, dead body… just like they’d done with his best friend. He squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of vile images—bloody pieces of his friend, still recognizable.

  Clenching his jaw, he knew that was a possible outcome for his current situation, but he wouldn’t compromise Sloan’s safety. She was more precious than his own life.

  She was all he had. Always had been.

  His thoughts shifted to Gale. He’d been a good man. A father of two. A husband. Brother. Son. People missed him.

  He should really call Gale’s parents. His avoidance was unconscionable. That was another thing to add to his list when he got out of here.

  Seeing those people in agony at Gale’s funeral had broken something inside Max, made it all too real. It churned and twisted in his mind. Why Gale, who had everything to lose? Why not Max?

  Max was the one who’d left the army, and when he went back, he was the one who’d messed up. That was a lot to accept. He scrubbed his hand down his face and groaned.

  This was the kind of self-doubt the enemy wanted.

  Instead of continuing down that path, he built a wall of Sloan-shaped memories around his heart. Conjured her smell—another tool for his arsenal—and immersed himself in love.

  Twenty-Three

  “I don’t got this!” Sloan shouted into the echoing void of her apa
rtment. She slammed her laptop lid closed and rolled on her bed, letting loose a scream of frustration into her pillow.

  It had been weeks since Max was taken. Thirteen days to be exact.

  Still no sign of him but plenty of Daisy’s insufferably perfect face. Not even bothering to hide under her half-face bird mask, she’d been popping up on the camera feeds around the city, taunting Sloan, going as far as to stare into the lens with her disturbing violet eyes. At first Sloan had rushed to the location only to find no trace of the woman, or Max. The only thing she succeeded in was inadvertently sending a school bus of children to sleep. They had their windows down in the heat and in her haste to cut through traffic, she’d not contained her power as tightly as she’d hoped. Traffic had literally stopped, causing accidents all round as people nodded off behind the steering wheel. Only cars with their windows up were safe. All she remembered thinking was an offhand comment that everyone should slow down so she could pass. Somehow her brain subconsciously projected sleep.

  Miraculously, no one had been injured.

  Sloan knew she needed training, and not the physical kind. She’d had plenty of that at the gym in the past two weeks. Her powers were unpredictable when she was stressed. She’d barely slept, instead, putting her feelings in a box and locking them up tight. Problem was, she’d not unpacked any boxes—she was too busy trying to find Max.

  If sleep slipped out and affected people around her, it wasn’t good. What next? What if her heartbreak broke loose? What about her pain? Her despair?

  What if she snapped?

  She flinched as the image of her fingers choking the life out of Barry came to her.

  Parker was right to confine Sloan to Lazarus House until her internal equilibrium returned to normal. She understood his point, but not heading out every time Daisy’s face popped up on the alert was counterintuitive. Being the only one manning the surveillance almost twenty-four-seven, she was the first line of attack, and her family wasn’t fast enough acting on the intel. How could they catch Daisy if they didn’t chase?