Bailey
While the FBI hadn’t barred me from napalm, I had no realistic way of pulling another 120 Wall Street stunt on the gypsum mine. Without a tanker, or the magic required to transform water into napalm, the best I could do was light everything I could on fire and let it burn.
First, I needed to get Janet out of the building before I burned it, which would be an interesting endeavor. I excelled at blowing things up—or stopping things from blowing up.
I needed a few classes on hostage recovery, stat.
I suspected Quinn would be dragging me to classes to make sure I wasn’t an incompetent Chief of Police starting the instant we made our way home. One day, preferably before I died of old age, I would stop attending classes of some sort. Maybe. If I asked my grandfather-in-law, could he arrange for a miracle?
I was beginning to believe a miracle would be required to turn my life into something almost sane.
As requested, Perkette tied a bag of neutralizer around my neck so I could treat Janet if she was petrified as I suspected. Once she was mobile, getting her out would be simple enough.
I could run really, really fast despite the lack of sunlight offering me a quick and easy lift. Not only could I run fast, I could stab obstructions with my horn and claw them into submission. Janet could ride, mostly. I hoped she’d be able to ride without a saddle or bridle.
They’d get in the way, and if I had to start burning things in earnest, they’d fry. I didn’t have another saddle or bridle if I broke mine.
I really needed a new set—and a spare.
As the sunset light had grown too dim to ride, I jumped over the fence and crept towards the dome. I took my time, hoping the darkness would mask my presence from anyone watching. Then again, would anyone truly be looking?
Nobody expected a fire-breathing unicorn to show up in the middle of the desert, far enough away from civilization to be inconvenient. I checked over my shoulder to make sure Perkette had remained behind.
She had.
I took a few more steps, double checked the mad scientist with a fetish for causing trouble hadn’t followed, and plowed into something large and warm. I snorted, scrambled back, tripped over my own hooves, and crashed to the hard-packed ground.
Ouch.
I’d seen enough incubi to recognize one, although I’d never seen one in a suit sheathed in flame before. I scrambled upright to discover he wasn’t alone.
Where had an incubus gotten a very large cindercorn? I flattened my ears and bared my teeth over how much larger the stallion was compared to me. He braced his legs and shook his head, and heat radiated from his fur.
“I stole him,” the incubus replied, and I snorted over his reading of my thoughts. “Yes, I am. Also, I’m not an incubus. I’m your uncle.”
I blinked. I had an uncle who was an incubus who didn’t believe he was an incubus?
The incubus-whatsit pointed at the cindercorn. “Merry Christmas. That’s your incubus, and I helped him learn how to be more useful to you in the future.”
What the hell was going on? I flicked an ear forward, as there was only one incubus I considered to be mine. “Quinn? That Quinn? Quinn cin-der-corn? Not gor-gon in-cu-bus whats-it doo-hickey?”
“He is. And as he’s my little nephew, you’re my little niece, so you get to call me your uncle. You’re welcome. Oh, don’t mind him. He’s not used to teleporting, so he’ll need a few moments to regain his bearings. Do have fun rescuing your cop, try not to get too excited until after you get her to safety, and try not to cause too much trouble. I mean, you’re going to cause trouble. That’s inevitable. You’re involved. Also, I fed him a rather ridiculous amount of potent napalm, so if you need something to be lit on fire, he can do it.”
I had an uncle? I sucked in a breath at that. What was I supposed to do with an uncle? How did uncles even work? Were uncles like crazy versions of parents? While I liked Quinn’s parents, mine needed a trip straight to hell. “But who you? Which crazy family member you brother of? Why you bring Quinn? Quinn babysit!”
The incubus-whatsit cackled his laughter. “You’ll find out soon enough. To begin with, your children are perfectly safe, so don’t you worry about that.”
“Puppy, too?”
“Your puppy is safe, too,” the incubus-whatsit replied. “And I’m not a whatsit. I’m the Devil.”
First, Quinn had a gorgon for a grandfather, an incubus for a grandfather, an angel for a grandfather, divines for great-grandparents, and now I had to deal with the Devil?
Wait. Could the Devil send my parents straight to hell?
The Devil snickered. “It won’t be a straight trip to hell. There will be some memorable detours, one of which will occur near Christmas. I’m a fan of just desserts, and this one will be particularly delicious. Like chocolate but better. I have a special place prepared for them.”
I shot Quinn an accusing look. “You very bad. Bad Quinn. You no tell me the Devil part of your crazy family.”
The way the cindercorn lowered his head, flopped his ears to the sides, and heaved a pained sigh did a good job of convincing me he was my Quinn. “I didn’t know,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, my beautiful.”
What didn’t look like Quinn but acted like Quinn and sounded like Quinn was very probably Quinn, and I had no complaints with having Quinn accessible as a stallion for my future enjoyments—and for lighting things on fire. “Oh! You talk good. You be able to do cin-der-corn more later? We have fun. Lots fun. And fire. You stick head in fire-place, too. I like this. Fire-place big enough for even you. You big.” I spent a few moments admiring him. “You very big. You really Quinn, yes? Proof.”
“For the record, she’s very ready to accept you’re you, but she’s trying to be a responsible adult for once in her life. It’s rather endearing,” the Devil said, the tip of his tail twitching. “Also, I’m the brother of your angelic grandfather-in-law.”
I knew just enough about Christianity to understand the Devil only claimed kinship with a very select group of angels, whom humanity wisely viewed with a mix of fear and awe.
Sylvester was an archangel? I snorted, my eyes widening. “Noooooo. Angels assholes. Archangels extra assholes.” It explained so much. Only an archangel would chase me around, plow me over with his magic, and make me his bitch. I moaned and joined Quinn in hanging my head. “Not fair.”
“I know. It’s terrible.” The Devil patted my shoulder. “I’ve cloaked our presence here for the moment so you aren’t discovered prematurely. I thought you would enjoy staging a rescue with your husband, and I owed him as part of a bargain.”
Fury swept through me, and I whipped my head around and bit Quinn’s shoulder. As a cindercorn, he could handle a few bites, even if I caught him with my teeth. “Bad! No bargain with Devil. You bad.”
The Devil snickered. “Technically, he bargained with a lesser devil.”
“That even worse,” I snapped, giving my husband another bite. Quinn tasted deliciously of sulfur and napalm, and I switched from biting to licking. “Oh. You tasty. Dipped in nay-palm for my enjoyment.”
Quinn sighed. “I didn’t bargain on purpose. I did a devil a favor. It wasn’t really a bargain. Well, okay. It was a bargain. It was more of an open-ended favor I held over that devil’s head. It was a good bargain for me because that devil needed my help. And I wasn’t dipped in napalm, but I now have a rather disturbing understanding of why you enjoy it so much.”
What the hell? Quinn could talk better than I could as a cindercorn. “Not. Fair. Why you talk so good?”
Quinn blinked, and despite the darkness, I could make out him trying to stare down his own nose in the general direction of his mouth. “Huh.”
“I helped,” the Devil announced, his tone smug.
“You help me, too, or I bite you!” I darted forward and snapped my teeth at Satan. “Want to talk nice, too. And no bar-gain. You do it be-cause I niece and you have to spoil me. That how being niece works, right? Never been a real niece before. Have not met Quinn’s father’s brother or sister people, either. You should do it because angels assholes and archangels extra assholes. You no be asshole.”
Quinn laughed and intervened, pushing me backwards so I couldn’t bite the Devil. “I’d be sorry for her, but I’m really not.”
“I will consider rewarding you for good behavior with making communicating easier on you, should you rescue your cop without major mishap. I’ve interfered enough, so you two have fun storming the castle.” The Devil vanished.
“I like that movie,” I admitted. “We watch it when we get home with chil-dren?”
Quinn laughed and brushed his muzzle against mine. “Whatever you want, my beautiful. This hadn’t been part of my plan, but I like it far more than sending you in against this… whatever it is… on your own.”
“Prob-ah-bull gor-gon hive. Old gyp-sum mine. We near Las Vay-gus. Janet inside.” Careful of my horn, I snuggled close to Quinn and basked in the warmth of his presence. “Why you cin-der-corn?”
“It’s just as the Devil said. He is repaying a bargain on behalf of a devil, and the rest of what he’s done wasn’t quite enough to be equivalent value. So, here I am. He thought it’d be nice if I’d be able to use my incubus genes in your favor, it seems.”
I buried my nose into his thick fur and breathed in deep. “You smell like nay-palm. You taste like nay-palm. Want to eat you up.”
Quinn chuckled. “Later,” he promised. “After we rescue Janet and get to the bottom of this once and for all.”
That sounded like the best plan I’d ever heard in my life, and I pointed my nose at the dome. “Janet in there.”
Quinn bobbed his head, and his ears twisted back. “If anyone even looks at you wrong, I look forward to tearing them into pieces.”
I considered my husband and struggled with my urge to whinny my laughter. “Just no eat them, how-ever tempt-ing. Eating sen-ti-ents is bad.”
“I wonder if I can petrify someone in this form.”
I snorted. “Let’s go find out.”
“Let’s.”
Quinn
I’d always wondered how Bailey moved so easily as a cindercorn, and I ultimately came to the conclusion some form of magic handled the basics. I should’ve had trouble coordinating four hooves, a horn, retractable claws, and my large mass around. In reality, I barely thought about it.
Instead, I contemplated the many ways I could warm up and light the building on fire. When I snorted, trails of flame escaped my nose.
“No fire yet,” Bailey scolded. “I know look well.”
I bet she did, as I was usually the one telling her not to light things on fire without a good reason. “In the future, I’m going to be more considerate about your interest in committing acts of arson.”
“Lies,” she muttered, and she bumped against me and rubbed her nose beneath my chin. “You still scold when I make fire.”
“But I’ll be much more understanding and considerate about your general compulsion to burn things. I really find this entire building offensive.”
“That be-cause Janet inside and your terr-i-tory vi-o-lated.”
As she spoke nothing but the truth, I didn’t argue with her. I eyed the central dome of the mine complex. “Can I burn it after we help Janet?”
“That is idea,” my wife replied, her tone amused. “How much nay-palm Devil give you?”
“A lot.”
“How much a lot?”
“Several bathtubs filled,” I confessed.
“You be so hung-over later. Me take mercy, get you or-ange pills. You feel drunk?”
“Not yet.”
“Yet key-word. Soon. Take time. Once you make fire, it fun! I jealous.”
Of course she was, and she would be until she remembered just how bad her hangovers got. “If I don’t burn too much I won’t get drunk or hungover?”
“No know. Not try? We try later?”
The CDC wouldn’t like that experiment at all, and for that reason alone, I’d see about finding some way to try it. Maybe the Devil would invite us to his house and let us hit up his napalm supply and go on a real rampage. What was a little more fire in hell? “I’ll think about it.”
“Today best day ever.”
I refrained from laughing, as I’d heard Bailey’s laughter as a cindercorn often enough to understand we’d inform everyone inside we were here if I whinnied in earnest. “So, Janet is in the dome?”
“Trail end at dome. Must be?” Bailey lifted a hoof, and I assumed she tried to point at the bag of neutralizer hanging around her neck. “Prob-ably pet-ri-fied. I fix that. You can fix, too. You gor-gon.”
If my newfound uncle was to be believed, Bailey would find her, go on a rampage, and trigger whatever magic destined to drive me insane, worry me, and require me to be a conduit so she could find her way home. The how of it worried me almost as much as the reality of it happening. Too many of my divine relatives all agreed.
It would happen.
I wanted to take her home to prevent it, but it wouldn’t work out. We needed to help Janet.
“It’s easier with neutralizer, but yes. I can help reverse the petrification,” I replied. I would need to be very careful until I transformed to a different shape. Fire and statues didn’t mix well. “When you snort, is it hot enough to melt stone?”
“No worry about Janet. Must do on purpose to hurt statue. Snort no hurt unless you snort too hard. It okay, Quinn. I show you how to be good uni-corn. You big, hand-some uni-corn. I play much with you later.”
I loved my wife, but she had a one-track mind at times, although I fully intended to indulge her at the earliest opportunity. I suspected the Devil had fiddled beyond his claims, as under any other situation, I would’ve been inclined to indulge before rescuing Janet. I needed to figure out the trick to that.
When Bailey was around, I often thought about indulging.
On second thought, I needed to figure out how we’d be able to work together without our breaks involving inappropriate behavior while at work.
Hmm.
“Where do you think we should look first?” I asked, careful to keep my voice quiet so we wouldn’t draw attention early.
“Into dome. If we find someone, try to petrify?”
I nodded. I could petrify someone while human, but it was harder; I hoped the same applied as a cindercorn. Then again, if push came to shove, I could transform and join Bailey’s rampage as her personal gorgon-incubus doohickey.
The thought made me unreasonably happy, and I nipped her shoulder. “Lead the way,” I ordered. “Sooner we done, sooner I take you.” I flicked an ear and eyed her. “Home.”
“You can take me any-where, thank you,” she replied in her most solemn voice. Lifting her head high, she eased into a ground-eating trot, heading for the dimly illuminated done. “Try not fall behind, Quinn. No be slow.”
Bailey
A steel door barred me from entering the dome, and I glared at the obstruction. “Doors dumb.”
Quinn backed away from the door, eyed one of the nearby windows, and continued to back up, his ears turning back.
“Too small,” I warned him, as his beautiful but large body would have trouble enough getting even through the door. While cindercorns were remarkably durable, he’d have to contort and pancake himself to fit through the window. I might make it through if I jumped just right—or waited until dawn.
I had no intentions of waiting until dawn to rescue Janet.
Quinn ignored me, snorted flame, and charged towards the building. He jumped and plowed through the window, taking out a large chunk of the wall with him. The hole smoked, and I expected the building would catch fire without my husband having to breathe flame. Inside, I heard a rather loud thump, likely from my husband smacking into another wall and the wall winning.
That would hurt later.
Without much other choice, I followed him in, careful to pick my target and jump with much greater accuracy and less force.
Inside, I discovered my husband had rammed his head directly into a wall, resulting in his horn becoming stuck.
“I love you, but you idiot,” I informed him. “You drunk idiot.”
“Maybe,” my husband conceded. He lifted a hoof, pressed it to the wall, and yanked. After several tries, he popped free and fell over. “Okay, definitely.”
As he credited me when I did something right for a rare change, I nuzzled his neck. “But we inside. You good but cray-zee, Quinn. You just drunk. Would say go home, but two is bet-ter than one, and Janet need help. Cray-zee, drunk Quinn.”
“Says the woman who went on a napalm bender and torched a skyscraper. I’m just following your example.”
As I’d done my fair share of ramming my head through doors, walls, and windows, I couldn’t judge him too harshly. “Don’t think you ate enough nay-palm for good bender. Sor-ree. Need much more, and need the infused stuff. It go where it want. It extra tasty. More punch. But stuff we have make hyper, yes? Hyper!”
Quinn got to his feet, shook his head, and sighed. “Bailey, darling. Have you ever seen me hyper?”
“Maaaaayyy-be,” I replied, refusing to look him in the eyes. “At night. In bed. Hyper there!”
He sighed, and I loved the patience-worn sound. “You’re incredible.”
I was. “I uni-corn. I in-cred-uh-ble by de-fault. Still not fair you talk good.”
“I’ll make it up to you later,” he promised. “Can you make us a path to Janet?”
“No map or ink or stuff. Sor-ree.”
“Then let’s get moving before someone checks out why the window broke.”
“They see Quinn-sized hole and know you do it. You make very big hole. I del-i-cate flower, no make very big hole.”
While soft, he whinnied his laughter. “Right. Nobody is going to expect fire-breathing unicorns, Bailey.”
“They expect me. I like Janet. They not stupid. Well, they stupid for taking Janet. Why else take Janet?”
“I don’t think they’re expecting you. I think they’re expecting a gorgon hive to kidnap you. Again. Because the person I think might be responsible for Janet’s disappearance has been trying to sell you to gorgon hives.” Quinn’s ears flattened, and he snorted flame. “I will enjoy tearing him to pieces.”
I assumed a napalm bender resulted in Quinn indulging in the more violent tendencies of his heritage. “Wait to fight until Janet safe. Then you fight. Not before.”
He sighed.
I suspected I was getting a taste of what he felt like when I ran around on four hooves. “Go be-fore we found,” I ordered, poking him in the rump with my horn. “Go, go!”
Quinn picked his way along the hallway, which curved along the dome’s façade. Glass doors led into abandoned offices. Once upon a time, some of the offices had been converted into bedrooms, but those too had grown dusty from disuse. All remained quiet, but something on the other side of the building creaked.
“Think that some-one?” I whispered.
Quinn focused on the nearest office, which had been converted to a bedroom. “I think this dive is about to crumble around their damned ears. We’ll be doing them a favor torching the damned thing.”
Yep. Quinn cruised on a napalm high. “Later.” I bumped his shoulder with mine and pointed my nose at the office. “Gor-gon?”
“A female’s solitary nest—or had been.” Quinn pushed his nose to the door, and it opened. He pawed at the bedding crammed into the corner. “Most females share rooms or suites but have personal spaces for privacy. This would’ve been one of the women’s personal spaces.” He narrowed his eyes. “I had no idea you could see so well in the dark, Bailey.”
“See good. Uni-corns best.”
Quinn explored the office. “Her things are still here. Jewelry, and so on.” Quinn lifted his hoof and snagged a necklace off the desk shoved up against the wall with a claw. “See? She probably died, and the hive male left her quarters intact. It’s part of how gorgons grieve. At first, they don’t touch anything that belonged to their lost wife. Then, over time, they begin taking items away, donating them, or giving them to other wives or sisters in the hive as they accept her death.”
“That sweet. Sad but sweet.”
“Gorgons are often misunderstood. Their capacity for ruin comes second only to their capacity for love. Most only see how good they are at death and destruction.” Quinn’s ears turned back, and he returned the necklace to the desk. “I wonder if the hive was also infected with rabies.”
“And left only male?” I asked, sighing at the reminder of how Quinn and I had somehow become candidates for parenthood.
“A very desperate male. Perhaps Winfield sold Janet to this hive to get his revenge on you both. That would make sense. The male—or males—were likely vaccinated for rabies but his females weren’t. Most gorgons won’t get vaccinations without a good reason, and you know how expensive treatments for rabies can get.”
“Ver-ry ex-pen-sive,” I conceded. “I spend all your money on rabies cure.”
Quinn nuzzled my shoulder. “If they tried to use Janet as a surrogate, we’ll take care of her—and we’ll give her the option of co-parenting with us. She likes children.”
“Janet good person. That why. But this trauma.”
“Janet’s tough. We’ll take care of her no matter what her circumstances. But this is concerning. Are the gorgons participating victims, too?”
“Even if victim, they take cop. You know law,” I reminded Quinn. “If let gor-gons break law be-cause threat-ened, they make dust, make more gor-gons, make more problems. Can’t let slide, Quinn.”
He heaved a sigh. “I think I understand why you like fire so much. It’s so much simpler just to burn it all down, isn’t it?”
“That the nay-palm talking. It talk loud and like fire. You be okay.”
“Why do I have a feeling this is going to be an unmitigated disaster?”
“I in-volv-ed, you smart. That why.”
The look Quinn shot at me made me laugh.