Page 34 of Lust
“CCPD!” she shouted. “Everyone stay calm. Stay indoors. Stay down and away from the windows.”
A shout outside cut mid-cry. A thud. A shudder against the window. Liza glanced over her shoulder to see blood spray on the glass door.
“Shit.” She couldn’t leave Sloan out there on her own. The rest of her siblings weren’t available. Only Wyatt was upstairs in the building, and there was no way Liza was letting him come down. Not with Daisy here. Misha would be left without protection.
Sloan could be right. This could be a trap.
Daisy jogged up to Liza’s side. “You need help. Give me a weapon. I will join you.”
“I’m not giving you my gun.” Liza gaped.
“Then…” Daisy looked around, locked onto a steak knife at a nearby table, retrieved it, and then pushed her way outside.
Fuck!
“Liza?” Joe stood, not five feet away and coming closer.
“Stop!” She held her palm out, saw the yellow mist oozing from her pores, and snatched her hand back. “Stay here. Keep everyone inside.”
His nostrils flared with defiance, but somehow, he knew this was important. He listened. He unclipped his firearm and retrieved his identification. With her mind awhirl, she turned her back on him and trusted that he would keep the crowd inside, calm, and safe.
Liza held her firearm steady as she shouldered through the exit. She only had one magazine. A limited number of bullets, and a set of cuffs in her back pocket. She had to make them count. When she emerged, her breath caught in her throat.
White robes swarmed everywhere. There had to be at least a few dozen Faithful. Down the street from Heaven were many cafes and restaurants, stores, and apartments. Pedestrian bodies lay on the sidewalk in a brutal display of violence. Cars had halted in the street. Traffic horns blared as Faithful jumped on top of vehicles, wreaking havoc. There was no escape.
Anyone caught in the area was trapped.
A woman screamed at Liza’s right.
A Faithful crouched on the roof of a Prius. Somehow he’d clawed into the metal roof with one hand, while his other fed through the driver’s side window. A middle-aged brunette slapped the hand away, but he’d caught her hair and tried to drag her out, heedless of the broken glass cutting into his arm. Liza aimed. Fired.
Pop!
The Faithful jerked but recovered.
She fired again. And again. Until she got the satisfaction she needed when the figure fell to the ground, his white robe fluttering like the wings of a fallen angel.
Each enemy held different weapons. Some had none, but they weren’t powerless. Through their blank, white Halloween face masks, Liza glimpsed bloodshot eyes.
The Syndicate had a serum that induced psychosis and gave the user a temporary boost in strength. Perhaps they were infected with it. Or it could be some new cocktail of chemicals. The Syndicate had created mutated plant monsters and demonic animals that sensed sin. Anything was possible.
Where was Sloan?
Liza’s heart hammered in her chest as she searched but found another sister instead. Daisy’s long silver hair flared like a fan as she twirled and stabbed Faithful with sewing machine repetition. Blood bloomed on white robes, but Daisy didn’t wait to see how her opponents faired. She moved silently and swiftly onto the next, swiftly and efficiently stabbing her knife into vital points. Jugular veins, carotids, femoral artery. Someone had taught Daisy the meaning of death. And she excelled.
In Liza’s experience, there were only two ways to become that good. Innate talent, or fear.
A movement to Liza’s left caught her attention.
Sloan.
She’d jumped onto a car for a better view. From there, she proceeded to stare down Faithful, sending her silent but deadly power into the minds of their enemies. Some screamed in fear, others simply fell into a dead sleep.
But Sloan wasn’t in costume. She could blow her identity.
“Sloan!” Liza shouted. “You need to get inside.”
The wind lifted Sloan’s dark hair to curl around her fierce face. She shook her head.
