She pulled out the Catalyst syringe. The liquid inside looked like crushed pearls. One injection, and the Antidote would be overridden. She’d walk into that penthouse cold and clean, put a round through Voss’s left eye, and feel nothing but professional satisfaction.
But the Antidote was already in her bloodstream, a slow-acting ghost. The Killing Antidote
“This is what normal people feel,” she whispered. She pulled out the Catalyst syringe