Page 72 of Sloth
The world closed in. Max forced himself to not panic. Breathe. Think about this calmly. He was not back on tour. These men were not insurgents with a bomb strapped to their chests.
Calm.
Max trained the weapon back on Daisy. “Then I’ll just shoot you.”
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “You could, but I think you know as well as I that a bullet won’t kill me. I’ll just regenerate.”
Fuck!Panic screamed in his brain. “What do you want?”
“You know, Mr. Johnson. I must admit that I did have my doubts. But after seeing the way you kissed her… my suspicions have been confirmed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You, Mr. Johnson. We want you.”
Twenty
Trapped.
She was trapped.
“Max!” Sloan shouted and slammed her palm on the car window to get his attention, but he refused to look. He was right there! Why wasn’t he looking? Pushing out with her new power, she tried to project, but nothing connected with the people outside.Sleep, she urged.Sleep. The Faithful standing stoically on either side of her car, stumbled. That was it.
When Beatrix yawned behind Sloan, she realized her aim was off.Dammit. Reining in her power, her mind went to dark and terrible places. Why was her precision so off? Maybe it was just like with the animals and she was too confused, too wired? Too panicked? Or was the glass and car between them creating some sort of block? Was her power bouncing back inside as though reflected by the metal and glass?
All these thoughts and more, rushed about Sloan’s head. None made sense.
She pounded against the glass again.Turn around Max!
He shifted slightly, profile coming into view. The man’s jaw popped as he clenched. Eyes like two beams of hate pointed at her sister. He braced his weapon with two steady hands—aimed and locked.
What the hell were they talking about?
Damned door. She tried again, knowing it wouldn’t open. She couldn’t understand why. She tried the window, but the electrics wouldn’t respond. The car was dead. She tried the key fob, also dead.
“What the fuck!” she shouted in an angry burst.
Beatrix shrank in the back seat, hugging herself. “What’s happening? Who are those people?”
“Get down,” Sloan ordered. She took off her jacket, ready to wrap around her fist. “I said, get down, Beatrix. Get down and stay down until I say so.”
The girl squealed and dropped, lowering herself into the gap between the back and front seats.
“Cover your head.” With the jacket wrapped around her fist, Sloan pulled back, ready to strike the glass, but Max held out his palm toward her. She paused, frowning.
Stop?
Max dipped his head so he could catch her eyes. The brown in them sparked gold with the sun. He held a finger to Daisy, indicating for her to wait, and then strode quickly to Sloan’s window.
Panting with panic, she forced herself to check his senses, to feel out his emotions. A trickle of emotional energy came through the glass, but she couldn’t grasp the meaning. The sensation was still too weak through the glass and metal insulation of the car.
Then he kissed two fingers and pressed them on the window. His brows joined in the middle in a pained expression. She touched the window and their fingers met, strengthening the surge of his emotion.
What echoed at her was… Love.
Why now? Why…
Her throat closed up. Her eyes burned. “Max?” she whispered.
