Page 41 of Sloth
“You want to prank her out here?” While they were on a mission?
“Why not? She canceled my cards last night, dude. Picture this: two Victoria’s Secret models on my arms, end of night, about to head up to their room. I’m ready to go. They’re ready to go. I order at the bar for some late-night-action bubbles, and my black American Express card declines. That shit don’t decline, you feel me? Right in front of the ladies. Sloan fucking cock-blocked me, man. After I spent all night dancing like a fucking monkey, she rewards me with that. She has to go down for this.”
Max stifled his humor by pressing his lips together. Sloan must have donethatafter he’d retired to his bedroom. “I’m staying out of your family shenanigans. I get enough prank backlash from Sloan as it is.”
“What are you two talking about?” Sloan asked, coming over with Parker.
“Nothing.” Tony clammed up so fast it was obvious he’d been talking about her.
She snorted. “Probably about your lack of prank-game, bras.”
“What’s this?” Parker growled.
“She’s calling me a lady’s undergarment again.” Tony pointed at her with his thumb.
“That’s because youarea big girl’s blouse,” Sloan said wryly.
Max grinned. She’d taken that expression from him. He used to shout it at the screen when some loser pulled a soft move on him during a game.
“She deactivated my credit cards last night,” Tony explained to Parker.
“He trapped me in the elevator!”
“You embarrassed me.”
“Mess with the best, die like the rest!” Sloan got in Tony’s face.
“Stop acting like juveniles!” Parker growled. His deep voice shook the surrounding Aspen. Birds took to the sky in protest.
But the siblings paid no attention.
Tony shoved her at the same time she stomped her foot. She lost her balance, slipped, landed palm first on a sharp crop of limestone and hissed in pain. “You asshole. You made me bleed my own blood!”
Pain stab through Max’s palm and he hissed. Tony and Parker did the same thing. All four of them had their palms out, feeling the sting of a phantom injury, but it was only Sloan with the wound.
“What the hell was that, Sloan?” Parker rumbled, shaking his hand.
“He pushed me!” she snapped.
“I’m not talking about your bickering, I’m talking about my hand hurting in the same place yours is wounded.”
She tried to cradle her hand, to hide the evidence, but Parker crouched low and pulled it out on display. Gently prodding around the wound, he looked on in awe at his own hand, sensing the same flash of pain respond, just as Max and Tony felt in the same place.
“You made us hurt,” Parker murmured, deep in thought, then flipped Sloan’s wrist to view her Yin-Yang tattoo. Max wasn’t certain what he was checking for, but had heard the tattoo was made with a special biometric ink that measured the amount of sin in their system. If the tattoo looked too black, it meant their sin was getting a hold of them. If there wasn’t enough ink showing, then it meant not enough sin was in their blood. Apparently, both extremes could be fatal—for others. She tried to snatch her arm away, but whatever passed between them had already been confirmed. Parker’s jaw tightened. “You’re perfectly balanced, Sloan. This is your power manifesting, isn’t it?”
Max frowned, confused. Power? What power. As in, something like Evan’s electricity, or Wyatt’s invulnerability? How could her injury be a power?
He checked his aching palm, then shot another look at her, conclusions forming as the puzzle pieces came together. He stepped toward Sloan. “You stabbed your palm in the alley and that beast whined in agony.”
Parker stood and folded his arms in a way that made his biceps bulge with intimidation. “Is this true, Sloan?”
She shot Max narrowed eyes of accusation.
Why would she want to keep this a secret? It was good. For any of the seven to gain supernatural powers was an advantage over their enemies. They all needed to know about this. Secrets got people killed. He wasn’t keeping his mouth shut.
“It also happened when we sparred, Sloan,” he added. “You kicked me in the face, but bled yourself. You can receive pain too.”
Parker rubbed his stubble. “What else, Sloan?”
