Lethal Game (GhostWalkers 16)

“Lily worked on Zenith, to make it safe for us to use. The FDA doesn’t even know about this drug. It’s not like it can be tested on humans,” Trap said. “Wyatt and I took it apart in our lab at Lily’s request, although I would have done so anyway. The Zenith should be safe for all of us, but as with any medication, there can be anomalies. You could be allergic. We all have DNA that was placed in us. We don’t know, with all of us being different now, what any medication will do to us. Zenith was tested on each individual.”

“I used Lily’s second-generation Zenith before,” Malichai pointed out. “Same leg. I was shot not that long ago, remember? That’s why I went with you to your home, Wyatt, to recover from that injury. I used the patch on that injury.”

“So, it was the second time on the same leg,” Trap mused. “You are most likely—and again, this is a guess off what little data I have—you’re most likely having an adverse reaction to the drug.”

“An adverse reaction is a rash and swelling,” Ezekiel snapped, “not eating away at the bone.”

“Actually, Zeke,” Trap said, “an adverse reaction is any unintended but harmful effect—”

“Trap.” Malichai had to stop him before that darkness welling up in his brother could be let loose. Trap would make a great target, and none of this was his fault.

Trap stopped talking abruptly. Malichai couldn’t feel any difference in the buildup of violent energy in his brother, but at least Ezekiel began deep breathing to try to dissipate it on his own without slamming his fists into someone.

Joe stepped between the two men. “We’ll start working on the leg and continue twice a day until we figure this out. Trap, can you contact Lily? Wyatt, you’ve got everything?”

“I’m already sending Trap the files he’s going to need,” Wyatt said. The audio was so good it sounded as if Wyatt was in the room with them. “Malichai, you’ve been wounded several times. Since you reported the abuses and discrepancies by Peter Whitney to higher command, you’ve been targeted by his supporters. You’ve been sent on missions basically to get rid of you. I know you’ve been shot several times prior to those two incidents. Did you use second-generation Zenith on you at any other time?”

Amaryllis had gone around to the other side of the bed so she wasn’t disturbing Ezekiel, who stayed close. She stretched out beside him, her back to the headboard, just as his was. Malichai threaded his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his thigh.

“Lily hadn’t perfected the drug then. She was working on it and the original Zenith was too unpredictable, so none of us were using it.”

“So, you’d never actually used it before that first time when you used it on your leg?”

“No, when I was wounded prior to Lily perfecting the second-generation Zenith, Rubin, Joe or one of you took care of it, or I did. I’ve never had to use the patch until that first time our helicopter went down and I was shot. And then this last time, those bullets tore up my leg. I didn’t think I was going to make it, I was bleeding so much. It was use the patches or die right there.”

“I’m sending all this information to Lily. We’re going to have to initiate testing every single GhostWalker again for their reaction to Zenith,” Wyatt continued.

“It could be a bad batch as well,” Trap suggested. “That happens.”

“Or it’s reacting specifically to Malichai’s DNA,” Wyatt said.

“Gentlemen, perhaps it’s time for you to take this discussion elsewhere,” Joe said. “Rubin, Amaryllis and I have to work on Malichai before the sun comes up. Rubin and I can slip through people unseen as a rule, but in broad daylight with people already speculating about vans, Navy SEALs and hit men in the bed-and-breakfast, I doubt if we’ll get away unseen.”

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Trap said. “Don’t worry, Malichai, we’ll figure this out.”

Malichai lay back, tightening his fingers around Amaryllis’s and pressing their joined hands deep into his thigh muscle. They weren’t going to figure it out. Wyatt had been his best friend for years. It didn’t matter that he was miles away in the swamps of Louisiana, and that he was speaking over a cell, Malichai could read his every nuance. Neither Trap nor Wyatt thought they were going to find a way to save his leg.

“Can you keep me going at least through whatever is happening here in San Diego, Rubin?”

“We’ll do our best,” Rubin said and looked at Ezekiel.

Not Malichai. Ezekiel. Malichai clenched his teeth so nothing would get out that he would regret. This wasn’t anyone’s fault. He’d chosen to attack the enemy bunkers like some crazed kamikaze. It seemed the only way at the time, and maybe it had been. He knew he would have done it all over again, even knowing the consequences, in order to bring those soldiers home. He just had to wait until he was alone and then he could do all the necessary swearing and screaming he needed to do.