Onyx Dallas Texas Novels & Stories

Still nothing. Onyx growled. “It’s odorless.” A frown crept up on my face. “You sure?” “Positive,” he said with certainty. That wasn’t helping. Onyx could identify hundreds of scents. Poisons. Plants. Blood. Illness. Most things left traces. Whatever had been mixed into these drinks apparently didn’t. “There’s no smell,” Onyx muttered. “Wonderful.” My sarcasm wasn’t appreciated. I set the glass back onto the table and looked toward Kael. “Have the contents examined.”