The Gray Market: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 5) by Valerie J Mikles

Author:Valerie J Mikles [Mikles, Valerie J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Valerie J. Mikles
Published: 2018-08-22T22:00:00+00:00

“What is this?” Tray cried, his hand hovering over the sticky stain on his shirt. The man who carried him inside hadn’t been gentle, but Tray was grateful for the assist. They stopped in the entryway of the house, which had a few wood-carved chairs, but no couch to lie on.

Ayize lay in the middle of the foyer, groaning and trembling, but yielding to Morrigan’s ministrations.

“Don’t touch it. Smells like Blaze,” Morrigan warned, holding a hand toward Tray to show she was speaking to him, though her eyes never left her patient.

“Is it toxic?” Tray asked, resting his arm on the nearest chair, his head on his arm. Saskia sat nearby, bringing her skirt up to clean her skin.

“It’s a narcotic. Usually a powder. I’ve never seen it in gel form,” Morrigan said.

“I guess Ketlin found a way to weaponize it,” Tray sighed, tugging at his shirt, feeling tingles where the goo had seeped through the material and come into contact with his skin.

“Zara, help him get that shirt off. It’ll absorb right through the skin,” Morrigan ordered.

Saskia blinked and rubbed her brow, then scooted closer to Tray.

“I can undress myself,” Tray muttered, though his hands were shaking from residual adrenaline.

“You nearly busted a stitch getting into this suit,” Saskia said, pushing the vest off his shoulders.

“It’s on your hands,” Tray said, catching her wrist, using his vest to wipe away the substance.

“Ayize. It’s all over his face. Is he going to be okay?” Demissie Zenzele worried, biting his fingernail as he paced into the foyer. He was a lanky black man with close-cropped hair and a smooth-shaved face. His silver tunic and fingerless gloves matched Morrigan’s pantsuit, and the fresh whiskey in his hands showed how he dealt with the stress, even though he’d been safely harbored in the house.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how to get it off without igniting it,” Morrigan said, going to a rustic, painted green cabinet, and unlocking it with a physical key.

“Igniting?” Tray repeated, kicking away his goo-stained garments.

“That’s the whole lure of Blaze,” Morrigan said, collecting medicine and tools from the cabinet. “It smokes when it comes into contact with the saliva in your mouth. Sweat too much and it’ll smoke on your skin.”

That was what had started the fire in the car.

“Morrigan!” Demissie cried, pointing to Ayize.

The man’s trembling had become uncontrollable, and little wisps of smoke formed around his eyes and lips. Morrigan quickly snapped on a pair of gloves and knelt by her patient.

“Sorry about this,” she whispered, injecting Ayize with something.

“What? What is that?” Demissie pestered, biting his nails, then refilling his drink.

“Detox. It’ll counter the narcotic, but not the chemical reaction of the burn. It’ll help.” Morrigan had compartmentalized and suppressed her fear to the point where her lack of concern terrified Tray. Using a medical spatula, she gingerly scraped the gel from Ayize’s face, starting near the eyes and lips. “Tray, Zara, how big a hit did you take?”

“She got more on her skin than I did,” Tray said, worried about how glassy Saskia’s eyes had become.

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