Page 36 of Lust
“Don’t breathe in, Sloan. It’s poison,” Liza warned. She sat back on her haunches, staring agape at her stained hands. “Stop.Stop!”
Too much yellow mist. She had to get out of there.
“Crawl out of the mist, Sloan,” she ordered. “Hold your breath. I don’t know if you’ll be—”
Liza cut herself off with a realization. She wasn’t affected by the poison. Would Gloria give her this toxin and not make her siblings resistant to it? No, she wouldn’t. They could heal fast. They were immune to sickness. Perhaps they’d all resist this too.
Liza waved her hand and tried to clear the toxic mist.
“Max,” Sloan croaked. “I heard him.”
“Daisy’s protecting him.”
They cleared the yellow mist and Sloan bolted to a sitting position, her eyes wide. Liza helped her to stand and then tucked her hands under her arms. The poison seemed to have stopped, or had run out, thank God.
The wind blew, and more mist dispersed, revealing a concrete war zone. Max bled from shallow face wounds and was down on his knee, cradling Daisy’s head in his lap with his hand over her rapidly bleeding chest.
“She’s hit,” he said.
Daisy’s expression tried to stifle emotion, but the pain was clear in the pinch of her eyes.
“What happened?” Sloan asked.
“She stepped in front of a bullet aimed at my heart,” Max answered, face pale.
Liza checked around. Any evidence that her siblings had been present in battle gear was long gone. They knew that once the immediate threat was over, they had to flee and leave the mopping up to the authorities. That used to be her job. But now Daisy was hurt. There were more important things.
“Take her downstairs,” Sloan said.
Liza put her hand on Sloan’s leg. “Are you sure?”
“She saved Max’s life.”
“Go. I’ll—” Liza finally summoned the courage to look for Joe. How much had he seen? How much had he deciphered? From the flex of his hard jaw, and the coldness in his eyes… a lot. “I’ll sort things out here.”
Liza took a step toward Joe, but he flinched and then turned away to check the fallen for survivors. Blood drained from Liza’s face. When she looked at her reflection in the window to Heaven, she understood why he’d balked. Yellow ochre ran down her chin and neck in great, undeniable streaks.
Monster.
“Liza,” Sloan urged, startling her. “Leave things here for the authorities. Help me.”
With a look full of longing at her mate, Liza reluctantly nodded. Her family needed her.
11
A white-robed offenderwas still alive when Joe yanked the Halloween mask from his face. He was alive, but having a seizure. Foam collected at the corners of his mouth as he gulped for air. Bloodshot eyes darted around.
“Why?” Joe asked.
The man’s eyes rolled to Joe, and he garbled, “F-for a b-better life.”
With the last of his breath, yellow bile emptied from his mouth.
Was it some kind of neurotoxin? A nerve agent? Cyanide? He sniffed, then coughed as a slight burn hit his olfactory. Alarmed, he turned his face to the side and gulped fresh air, waiting with dread to see if numbness exhibited in his body, but none came. Regardless, he lifted his shirt to cover his nose and mouth.
It hadn’t smelled nutty like cyanide, but its effects were strong. He filed the information away for another time and made sure not to inhale more. For now, he needed to see to the victims, secure the scene, and talk to Liza.
She had some explaining to do.
