Page 78 of Sloth
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?”
