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“They wouldn’t let me go in,” he said, then met her eyes. “I didn’t like it.”
“They didn’t know then,” she said.
“Know what?”
That you’re my mate. She shrugged.“Never mind.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but voices in the operations room stole their attention. Someone was back. Daisy jogged into the room. The wall screens played out news reports from around the city: fires; the Mayor talking at a press release about delayed assistance from the federal government; grainy cell footage of one of the Deadly Seven in action and his full support of their help to manage crime.
Daisy was wrong. No one was back. It was just the news reports. One drew her closer. The more she saw, the more her heart rabbited.
“Shit,” Axel said, a grim tone in his voice. “That’s your brother, right?”
On the screen, Griffin—Greed—stood in his battle gear with a hurricane of metal junk whirling around him. His eyes were cold, like no one was home. Mary had said something earlier about Griffin falling under his sin’s influence.
“AIMI,” Daisy asked the air. “What’s the time stamp on the news report on screen five.”
“What you’re seeing happened twenty minutes ago.”
“Do they need help?”
“Parker and Alice are incoming with Griffin. Would you like me to ask them if they need assistance?”
“No, it’s—”
The basement door leading to the garage swung open. In came Parker and Wyatt carrying Griffin’s limp body between them. Alice raced in after, her blue eyes wild. She wore a similar battle suit to the Deadly Seven and the hood was pushed down to reveal her wild copper hair.
“I’m sorry,” Alice blurted. “I’m sorry but I had to do it.”
“Stop apologizing,” Parker answered gruffly. “You had to knock him out.”
“Where do we put him?”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” Wyatt barked.
“I do.” Parker jerked his head toward the corridor leading back toward the elevator and the main apartments. “I refitted the storage room.”
“Refitted it to what?” Alice gaped.
“An insulated cell.”
Griffin murmured and his head lolled to the other side. “Lilo…”
“He’s coming to,” Parker said. “Hurry.”
They rushed Griffin away. His boots scrambled on the ground, leaving a muddy, wet stain that might have been blood. Daisy followed to see Alice open a glass-windowed concrete door. Parker and Wyatt dumped their brother inside. The room had a plastic-like lining over thick concrete walls.
“Wyatt, out!” The second Wyatt and Parker jogged out, Parker used his immense strength to roll the heavy door closed and shouted, “Lock the cell door AIMI. Now!”
Two seconds after they heard the lock click into place, and the air pressure in the room sealed, Griffin’s furious face appeared behind the window, and he slammed his palm against it. Then he stopped. Cold dead eyes stared out at them.
Every metal object in their vicinity rattled. From the weapons attached to bodies, to the exposed pipes in the ceiling, to a rattle filtering back to them from the workshop.
“I thought you said it was insulated,” Wyatt said.
“Clearly not enough.” Parker tilted his head to the speaker in his hood. “AIMI, sedate Griffin in the insulated cell.”
Instantly, gas spurted from the ceiling behind Griffin. He looked back at the mist and then his body flopped. He landed unceremoniously on the hard floor with a muffled thud that reminded Daisy of the time she’d sniper shot all those homeless people. It was the same sound they’d made.
