Page 32 of Sloth
Fanning herself with her hand,Sloan strode across the ballroom, making a beeline for the bar. Somewhere to the right came the high pitched squeals of women no doubt being flattered and ego-stroked by the Wonder Twins, Tony and Parker.
Utterly failing at keeping her thoughts on track, she kept veering toward Max’s words.“Do you remember what I said you’d do to me if you ever wore red lipstick?”
Oh, she remembered all right. Both she and Max had been very open about their sexual fantasies with each other. When you could only communicate with sound and picture, you had to be honest and clear. Words were their erotic foreplay. Their video calls were as vivid in her memory as if they’d happened yesterday. They’d start off innocent, a shared game or movie, and then the friendly banter and ribbing would turn sexual. Sometimes they’d play a game of strip poker… then… well, you can imagine howthatended. At the end of the call, they’d always kiss their fingers and raise them to the camera at the same time, imagining touching across the vast cyber expanse.
“I trust you. You got this,”were Max’s other words.
She forced a lungful of air in, and pushed her nerves out. Focus. Barry is there. The same Barry with whom Flint worked alongside for eight years. The same man who once thought he could save the world with his brain. On a flash of genius, she pulled out her cell from her clutch and dialed Flint.
Two rings, and he picked up.“Sloan. Is everything okay?”
The deep voice of familiarity grounded her. “Yeah, but… we found Barry, and I don’t think he wants to work for the You-Know-Who. He’s got the same sloth-signature as the one I sensed right before the animal was loosed on the city. I’m going to try to turn him. Can I patch you into my earpiece while I talk with him? Maybe you can offer insight.”
As she spoke, a hushed, urgent voice hissed through her earpiece. Parker had been listening, and he wasn’t happy.
“Just a sec, Flint. There’s some white noise in my ear I need to clear.”
“Sloan,”Parker snapped.“What are you doing? Turning him is not the plan.”
“It is now,” she said. Her gut believed Barry could be swayed.
“We haven’t discussed it.”
She huffed a sardonic laugh, shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter if we discuss it. You do what you want anyway, right? I’m on another call, bras, please… shut up.”
He tried to speak some more, but she brought her cell back to her other ear. “Sorry Flint, you were saying?”
Parker was hard to ignore while simultaneously listening to Flint, but her brother would soon get the message. If not, she didn’t care if she was in full view of the room, she’d pull the earpiece out.
“Flint?”
A pause. “Sloanie, you know I want for Barry to be on our side more than anything in the world, but the fact is, if you’re right about the sloth-signature, he’s been making those beasts. He’s probably the one who made the clones and the Greed serum. None of that is good. I don’t know if you can get through to him. It might be too late.”
“We should try, though, right? Redemption is what separates us from those beasts.” By “us” she meant her and her siblings. They were created in a lab, just like those animals. If they weren’t careful, they’d turn into the very same thing… or worse, like Daisy.
There had to be a way back.
Another pause, then:“You’re absolutely right. I’ll be here.”
“Patching you through now.” Despite King Pee sounding like he was having a conniption, she cut him off and transferred Flint’s call to her earpiece before slipping her cell back into her clutch. “You there?” she murmured.
“I’m here.”
Another deep breath, and she stepped forward. Her palms felt clammy, her heart fluttered, but her gut was never wrong. Negligence was a version of sloth. She knew this. They had to trust her.
Plastering a smile on her face, she went to sit next to Barry, and flagged the waiter down. “Two more of what he’s having.”
Barry shot her an uninterested sideways glance, dark eyes inspecting from underneath dark brows.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, love. Married.” He waggled his finger with the gold ring and then went back to his drink. “Plus, I’m old enough to be your father.”
He’s British, she realized with a jolt. Flint had never mentioned that.
Behind Barry, Max arrived, pretending to wait for the barman. He didn’t show it, but she knew he kept one eye on Barry’s almost empty Scotch glass, waiting for the opportunity to scan it for fingerprints. Seeing Max there, looking calm and collected, gave her the confidence to continue.
“Oh,” she laughed softly at Barry. “This isn’t a line. I’m a fan of your work, Doctor…” Shit. What was his name again?
“Pinkerton,”Flint said.
