Playing with Fire: A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)(8)
If I got lucky, they’d reverse sedation, wake me up, and life would go on. If I didn’t, one of two things would happen. Depending on my rating as a gorgon, I’d either be tossed to the wolves or packed out for a trip to the mountains where I couldn’t harm anyone. If they determined I was a carrier potentially capable of transforming others into gorgons, too, I’d probably be euthanized as too much of a risk to humanity.
Not even other gorgons wanted a carrier among them. Carriers could produce the dust, the dust made more gorgons, and the dust could petrify gorgons, too. I wish I had paid more attention to the gorgon biology courses during my certification rather than yawning my way through most of them.
Immunity gave me an auto-pass for everything relating to gorgons, and their non-typical methods of reproduction hadn’t interested me. Their typical reproduction didn’t, either, but I knew enough about the basics I wanted nothing to do with the whole twisted thing.
I got to my feet to enjoy the last few minutes of freedom, took a single step, and found a marble with my foot. The impact with my floor cut my squeal off and drove the air out of my lungs. “That hurt,” I wheezed.
When Perky hurried to my side, he discovered my marbles the hard way. Unlike me, he stayed on his feet. Bending over, he picked up one of the shiny bright blue spheres. “Lose something, Gardener?”
I hated Perky so, so much sometimes.
The man grinned at me, crouched at my side, and touched the marble to my nose. “Don’t worry. I’ll pick them all up for you. This explains so much. Hey, Chief? I figured out Gardener’s problem. She’s gone and lost her marbles.”
“Screw you, Perky.”
He laughed.
Chapter Three
As part of the certification process, I’d done several stints in a glass coffin. The devices prevented outbreaks due to mundane and magical sources, and those on the front lines were most likely to be exposed to contagions. My only job was to keep calm. The mask, the part I hated almost as much as the idea of being trapped in a see-through contraption, delivered the initial sedative and doses of the neutralizer. Once I lost consciousness, Perky and anyone else in a hazmat suit would dispose of my clothes, load me in, and flood the box with more neutralizer. If all went well, the mask would keep me breathing.
The neutralizer had no more than seven days to eliminate any hints of contagion. After that, I’d die from dehydration.
Once a glass coffin was activated, nothing entered or left it, and if I didn’t survive the process, they’d bury me in it. If I got a viewing, they’d cover my coffin with black velvet to preserve my dignity.
I tried not to think too hard about the whole being stripped part of things. It’d been bad enough with strangers doing it, but I knew at least half the men and women quarantining my apartment. Sighing, I shook my head and waited, my nervousness intensifying with each passing minute.
Had I been inexperienced with hibernation, neutralization treatment, and the glass coffin, someone would’ve knocked me out with the mask instead of letting me observe their preparations so I could confirm they did the job right. Magic supplied the oxygen, and if something went wrong, I’d suffocate unless they had someone on hand able to penetrate the glass barrier with magic.
Few could.
“You’re really going to make me get into the box, aren’t you?” A hint of my dismay manifested as a quiver in my voice.
Perky paused in his work and grinned at me. “If you ask me really nice and fetch your nicest lingerie, I’ll decontaminate it for you so you can go in partially clothed.”
“She will do no such thing,” Chief Quinn snarled, stepping into my apartment. Unlike the others, his hazmat suit was yellow with a blue armband marking him as a member of law enforcement with kill authority in the case of a critical contagion.
Yippee. The man who hated me for ruining his marriage could issue the kill order if he determined I was a risk to public health. “Chief Quinn, shouldn’t you be somewhere safer, like in the hallway? Back at the station would be even better.”
“What she said.” Perky snorted and returned to his work setting up the glass coffin for my habitation.
Chief Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “And miss the chance to strip search you, Gardener?”
My entire body flushed at the thought of his hands on me. Instead of begging for it like every cell of my body demanded, I glared at him. At least his hazmat suit hid his perfection, which helped me control my desire to rub up against him while pleading for him to search me as thoroughly as he wanted. “Yes, please miss my stripping session.”
It wasn’t until someone laughed in the hallway I realized my words hadn’t come out quite right. My face burned. Fortunately, with so much pink powder covering me, no one would spot my blush.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to disregard your request.”
I liked the sound of that a lot, but I made myself scowl. “That’s stupid. Go back to where it’s safe, Chief Quinn.”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m the only one here qualified to operate the mask and seal the glass coffin. You’ll just have to accept me, like it or not.”
Could sedation be faked? I really wanted to fake the sedation. If I ended up dying, I wanted my last memory to be of Samuel Quinn patting me down. That’d be one hell of a way to go. “That’s not at all fair.”