Alexis moved with practiced efficiency toward a specialized storage unit that I hadn't noticed before. The metal container looked like something you'd find in a high-security laboratory, complete with temperature controls and biometric locks. She placed her palm on the scanner, and after a soft beep, multiple compartments slid open to reveal rows of carefully organized vials. I always forget how much money we really have. My office is still relatively empty while the girls basically have a workplace in theirs.
Each vial contained different colored liquids - some clear, others with distinctive hues ranging from amber to deep green. But what caught my attention were the labels. Instead of the simple chemical names I'd expected, these bore complex scientific nomenclatures that meant absolutely nothing to me.
"Micrurus fulvius, Bitis arietans, Centruroides sculpturatus," I read aloud, stumbling over the Latin pronunciations. "Alexis, what exactly are these?"
