Page 25 of Sloth
“I don’t know how long this will last. Whatever you can do, do it now.”
His gun was too far, kicked out from their collision, but he had a knife strapped to his leg. He reached down, released it, and launched onto the beast, driving the blade deep into its heart. Two-seconds later, the animal stopped seizing. It stopped all together.
Panting hard, the two of them looked at each other, eyes wild.What the holy fuck?
Max stepped toward Sloan. She still had the nail file pierced into her palm. “Sloan. You’re hurting yourself.”
Her gaze whipped from him to over his shoulder. “No!” she shouted, suddenly panicked. “Daisy, no!”
Who was Daisy?
Max turned to see a woman dressed in white leather, perched on top of the brick wall. A stream of long white hair billowed behind her head, eyes and nose concealed by a birdlike mask. She poured liquid from a canister onto the beast’s corpse.
A sizzling sound joined a new acrid scent, fumes so strong, neither Sloan nor Max could breathe. Coughing, they ran toward the alley exit, toward fresh air. When they looked back, the beast was a bubbling mess of black fur and viscous liquid. And the woman in white was gone.
Tires screeched as a black SUV came to an abrupt halt on the main street next to the alley. Wyatt barreled out, jogging down the cobbled alley floor.
Great.
“Where’s Misha?” Wyatt demanded, whites of his eyes dominating.
“She’s in there.” Max pointed to the shop a few feet away.
Wyatt’s gaze snapped to the mess behind them, then to the shop. “And why is no one with her?”
“Because we were chasing down a rabid beast, fucktard,” Sloan snapped.
Wrong words to say, because Wyatt’s face reddened. A vein popped in his forehead and he pointed at his sister’s face. “Youfuckingmessed up.”
“Hey.” Max tried to get between them, but Wyatt shoved Max.
Aw, hell no, he didn’t. Not this time. It was Max who pointed back at Wyatt, getting right in his face. “If you weren’t being such an overpowering prick, your missus wouldn’t be sneaking off to get five minutes peace. So, don’t blame this on Sloan.”
“Fuck you both.” Wyatt slapped Max’s hand away and went to the dress shop, leaving him standing with Sloan.
And she still had that damn nail file in her palm.
“Sloan,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Your hand.”
Blinking, confused, she looked down at her palm. “Oh.”
Her adrenaline visibly let down; her shoulders dropped, her eyes fluttered, she exhaled.
“What’s going on?” He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.
“I’m a fast healer. Why did you lure the animal out of the shop?”
Blinking at the sudden change of direction, he answered honestly. “To save you.”
Hell washed over her features. Darkness poured from her eyes. Her voice came out low and deliberate. “You think you need to save me?”
“Well, yeah. The demon mutt was chewing your leg off.”
“This leg, Max?This leg?” She lifted the hem on her jeans. The skin at her calf was a little pink, but otherwise fine.
