The doorway was open and the room beyond it smelled musty, of dust and leather and paper and the glue that held books together. Her nose crinkled at the smell. Cocking her head slightly, she smoothed a strand of hair back behind her ear. Earlier in the day, Envy had overheard the man talking about Lior and Ishval, and the Eastern area of Amestris having problems. The Lieutenant Colonel had hurried from the records room to the archives, and Lust had tracked him down, listening in as he’d talked to himself.
What was it about humans and their need to talk all the time? If he’d kept his mouth shut and done his research on the quiet, she wouldn’t be standing here. Now, though, she had to stop him before he had a chance to share his knowledge.
Slipping through the doorway, Lust slammed it closed behind her. “Hello, Lieutenant Colonel,” she said, “or is it ‘goodbye’?”
His eyes widened, sweat popping out on his forehead as he spotted the mark on her chest, her brand, that unique tattoo that showed how much more she was than merely human. The scent of his fear changed the dusty air in the room, making it rare as any fine wine.
Lust smiled, swaying forward, lances springing from her fingers like greyhounds, eager for their prey. “Has anyone ever told you that humans talk too much?”