Page 88 of Lust
And then she allowed herself to be hustled toward the exit. Replicates blocked the way, hiding them from view as they left the building. The first replicate’s veins flashed blue. He had Tony’s firepower.Shit. They were powered, just like the Seven.
A scream of frustration tore from Liza. She pressed the triggers, a spray of bullets released, catching replicate bodies everywhere. When magazines clicked empty, she dropped the rifles, ran, and picked up Daisy’s fallen knife. She whirled into a twister of yellow and red. Poison and blood.
Toxic projectiles hissed like missiles from her left palm into faces, making them flinch, and then she struck with the knife, severing tendons, slicing arteries. Liza screamed through it all, pushing as much toxin as she could from her throat. If she got close enough, she spat into their eyes. They might have recovered if given the time, but she didn’t let them.
Time belonged to her, at least for a few moments. It wasn’t until she slipped on a long puddle of liquid and almost flipped onto her back, that backup arrived.
“Greed,” she rasped and pointed at the exit. “He took her. He took our sister.”
Griffin’s eyes bore into her as he flourished his long metal bo staff and then stopped to take in the scene. “The fight is still going on outside. There are soldiers everywhere.” He pointed at the fallen. “There are more of these things out there. There were other warehouses.”
Shit.
Liza’s energy waned. Despair trickled in. “You should get out. There’s a lot of toxin in this room.”
He gave her a last look and left. When Liza turned to survey her devastation, there was nothing but blood and death.
29
The Sinner hadParker by the throat. His rain battered head hung precariously over the edge of the warehouse roof as the battle raged below them. Every so often, shots were fired. Blue fire flashed on the horizon. Electricity crackled. Metal flew through the air. None of it was directly below, but everywhere at the same time. There were explosions, crashes, and fire. Chaos reigned. He ignored it all to face the threat on top of him.
One enemy at a time.He urged himself to focus on the Sinner.
She was an assassin for the Hildegard Sisterhood, a secret female-only faction of the church. The same organization had wanted Mary to kill seven innocent children born in a lab many decades ago. They weren’t comfortable with the fifty-fifty chance of Parker and his siblings turning evil.
He snarled at the woman trying to strangle him, using her sharpened sai in a maneuver that made his brute strength useless. One twitch and he’d take a puncture to the jugular. She was frustratingly dexterous and strong for someone much smaller than him. She was the deadliest person he’d seen in battle since Mary and had drawn shallow blood with her sai, darted out of his reach, and kept it up like an annoying fly. The stamina it took to meet someone like him was remarkable, but he’d not gone without his own wins. She favored one leg, which meant he must have hit her. All he needed to do was exploit her weakness.
He glanced over the edge of the roof. Machinery and meat grinding equipment lay in piles beneath. A gun fired, its bullet ricocheted off equipment. Going down wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t concede, anyway. He would take this Sinner into custody if it was the last thing he did. Then he would torture her for information.
If he failed, Mary’s life would be at risk.
She’d gone against orders, saved Parker and his siblings, and taken them on the run. It might have been thirty-or-so years, but the Sisterhood had found them. Mary always said if they did, then all of their lives were at risk. No one walked away from the Sisterhood.
“We don’t have time for this!” the Sinner snarled. Two fierce eyes sparkled over her blood-red face mask. That was all he could see of her face. Even her hair was obscured by the black hood.
The Sinner uniform was similar to the Seven’s because Parker had based the design on Mary’s original gear. Since AIMI was down, today they were all in their old fighting leathers. A pang of irritation hit him. It was his fault the suits had failed them. He should have come up with a manual override plan in case the computer went down. He knew better.
It was unacceptable.
Parker sucked in his throat, giving himself some slack, and then kneed the Sinner, aiming for her bad leg. He sent her reeling back across the roof, skidding in the rain. Back on his feet, he resumed a standoff with the woman. They circled each other, neither willing to make the next move.
Her sai was now gone, making both their weapons lost somewhere over the side of the building. All they had left was their bodies.
That’s all he needed. He was stronger, and he had no handicaps. Not like her, with her limp and weak leg. That sai had been her saving grace, and he’d been holding back because he wanted to bring her back to HQ functional.
“I’m here to help,” she said.
“Sure you are.” He booted her weak knee.
But it was as though she expected it. Her weakness became a strength. She dodged, ducked, flipped back on one hand, used it to support her weight before kicking out with her other leg. He jerked back, missing the sole of her boot by a hair’s breadth. They dancedaroundeach other,witheach other, and if Parker didn’t know she was a liar and killer without compunction, he might have enjoyed himself. But she was right, they didn’t have time for this. He had to get down to his family.
What were the Sisterhood doing here?
Maybe they were in on it.
An explosion shook the foundations of the warehouse. He stumbled. The Sinner used the shift in equilibrium to slam her foot into his sternum. He went back. Back. The horizon tipped, rain pelted his face, and he went over the edge. He scrambled for purchase, his hand gripped the gutter. Slipped. Held. He winced as the metal cut through his old leather gloves and into his palms. Gravity took hold, jerked him down, and his arm almost ripped from his socket.
The fall wasn’t far. Two-stories. It was the equipment beneath that worried him. If he fell the wrong way, he’d injure himself. He’d survive, but recovery would be a bitch. Breathing hard, he looked up.
