by R. J. Blain
He had gotten his ass handed to him by my wife, and I understood what demonic powers could do to someone. In part, it was why I always hesitated to reveal any of my demonic nature.
Unfortunately for me, Bailey could be very convincing, and once she coaxed me into shapeshifting, she had a way of making my common sense dribble out of my ears.
We made quite the pair.
I sighed and shook my head. Considering how poorly Bailey had taken my cousin’s multi-million dollar offer, she’d enter orbit over only being offered five hundred thousand. “Amanda’s been teaching her self-defense. While I will do everything in my power to prevent another hive from even looking at her, I pity this patriarch should he manage to get near her.”
Perkins snickered again, which grew into boisterous laughter. “She’ll get so mad she might spontaneously combust. After she’s done laying waste to the entire hive, I wish you luck convincing her she has value.”
Bowing my head, I closed my eyes and sighed again. And again. I sighed a few extra times for good measure. “It’d be best if she doesn’t find out about this. She’s going to have enough trouble accepting she’s going to be a Chief Quinn soon.”
My cousin cackled. “She’s going to turn the entire city upside down. Which jurisdiction is to be blessed with her?”
The sarcasm I expected from my cousin didn’t come, and when I lifted my head, he watched me with open interest. “They’re partnering her with me.”
My cousin nodded, his expression satisfied. “Well, I’d like to see anyone get to you with her around. She’s vicious. She sometimes flails, but she flails viciously. And I’ll give her credit. She punches hard when mad.”
I’d always treasure the memory of my wife beating my drunk cousin. “You deserved it.”
“I did. I regret I didn’t find her first.”
I only regretted marrying Audrey before meeting Bailey. “Thank you for not finding her first.”
“Who am I kidding? You two were made for each other. I know of no other capable of handling her fire without being burned.” My cousin shrugged. “She’d burn the entire world to ash for your sake. That’s what I want, for a woman to look at me like your bride looks at you. I doubt she’s easy to love, but what you have will last. I don’t typically believe in fate, but perhaps with you two, it was simply meant to be. How do you want me to handle the Dover hive?”
“Talk to your old man, and when you do, tell him my old man keeps telling Bailey she’s too vicious to participate in the fostering matches. Should the Dover hive suffer from any unfortunate accidents pursuing my bride, she has first right to claim the whelps. I intend to back her on it, and I will fight for her if she’s barred.”
“While shifted?” My cousin’s snakes hissed their opinion of that. “You’ll scare off the competition.”
“I’m all right with that. Bailey isn’t. She’s stuck on earning the fosters properly. I’m much lazier than she is.”
I was also more ruthless, and if she wanted to foster children, I would end every fight as quickly as possible before accepting my beating as the victor.
“Whatever works. I’ll try to defuse the Dover situation. What do you want me to do about that washed-out cadet? He’s going to become a problem.”
“Get what information you can on him. When I’m finished with him, he’ll regret the day he thought he could touch my wife,” I swore.
Bailey
As I couldn’t drive worth a shit and Perkette wanted to reach Vegas sometime this year, I navigated. Navigation I could do. I didn’t even need a map to guide her across the city to the mainland. After that, I informed my new, fancy phone I wanted to go to the Venetian in Las Vegas, and it dutifully relayed directions at the appropriate intervals.
I loved my new phone, and the next time my husband tried to coax me into accepting something a little shinier than the cheapest model available on the market, I’d listen to him. “Did you know Quinn believes he can’t teach me how to use his laptop to save his life? The same goes for all tech. I’ve convinced him I’m completely and totally hopeless with all technology. In reality, I can use his phone like a boss. He just doesn’t know that. According to him, it’s a miracle I know how to text him. Am I a bad wife for liking when he does all the computer things for me because he likes it?” I held up my new phone. “He’ll like this phone. He’ll be delighted I picked it. It’s the most expensive model of the brand he likes.”
“You’re not stupid, Bailey. Why are you playing dumb with your husband?”
“It confuses him,” I admitted. “And he has this really cute expression when he gets flustered. Then he tries to help so much, so I feel bad when I can do something on my own, but he’s so eager to help.”
“You know how to use his laptop, don’t you? And his phone. And all of the technological doodads in your house.”
I loved that a scientist referred to technology as doodads. “Maybe a little.”
“This is going to be so good. Describe your actual skill with his computer, please.”
“I hate not knowing how to do something, so I looked it up online. Next thing I knew, I was upgrading his antivirus and basic protections because his are shit, but he doesn’t know his are shit because I run mine in the background. And because I added extra programs, I may have taken his laptop to a store for a memory upgrade so he wouldn’t notice. He hasn’t. He’s a very confused man sometimes. Well, I might sometimes tell him about weird porn to see what he’ll do. He gets so embarrassed, Perkette. And the best part? He has no idea if I’ve actually watched any of it.”
“Have you?”
“Hell no. Why would I? I’m married to an incubus. Well, that’s not quite true. I tried watching one once because I was curious. The girl looked bored, and the guy looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than a studio filming porn. It wasn’t sexy. At all. And they couldn’t act worth a shit. I just browse for weird porn ideas in stealth mode and make a mental note of the interesting headlines to tease him.”
“That must drive him crazy.”
“I don’t do it on purpose—usually. He just worries he isn’t being husbandly enough, and then I try to tell him he’s so much better than those weirdos who think watching each other pee is sexy.”
“Don’t you mean pee on each other?”
I snickered. “Quinn isn’t sure, and it drives him insane. He’s part angel, Perkette. Even the thought of checking porn for any reason freaks him out. All he’d have to do is ask what I’m doing. I’d tell him. While laughing. I can’t help it. He makes the best expressions, and it’s so hard to keep from laughing.”
“And add in his obsession with making you laugh, and it’s a recipe for disaster. One of these days, you’re going to choke to death trying not to laugh, and he’s going to have a heart attack from twisted porn. It’s a good thing porn is legal or he’d already be halfway in his grave.”
“It doesn’t hurt—or help—that I sometimes spike dinner with pixie dust without telling him.”
“You are half the reason you don’t get enough sleep.”
I grinned. “At least I’m honest about it.”
“You know what? I can’t blame you. If Arthur packed incubus genes, I’d be running on a lack of sleep and need an intervention, too. Trust me on this one, Bailey. Even vanilla human men like their sex plentiful.”
“I’d say I know that, but then I’d be lying.”
“I feel like I need to take you to some strip clubs when we’re in Vegas. Your innocence isn’t refreshing. It’s downright terrifying.”
“It’s Quinn’s fault,” I announced. “It’s all his fault. He walks in the room, and I forget other men exist. I’ve been told this is a good thing.”
“For someone who is part angel like your chief? Yeah, it’s a good thing.”
“What do you think he’ll do when he finds out?”
“I don’t know, Bailey,” Perkette admitted. “Let’s go find out. Have your phone take us to Atlantic City. We’ll begin our reign of terror
there.”
Chapter Three
Quinn
The day simply refused to end. Dealing with my cousin turned into one of the nicer parts of my shift. A dead political hopeful, a possible suicide but probable homicide, would keep the station busy until someone figured out the truth. My temporary replacements wouldn’t appreciate the trouble I was about to dump on their laps.
Any other day, I would’ve cared more, but I had three uninterrupted weeks of time with Bailey ahead of me.
“Almost over,” Perkins said, checking his watch. “You can survive for five more minutes.”
I was done. Fuck the five minutes. My brand-new plan involved bolting for my cruiser and dragging Perkins along for the ride. “We sneak out in thirty seconds and hit the staircase at a run.”
“We’re on the eighth floor.”
“So?”
“I’ve had a long day. I’m not going down eight flights of steps. We’ll walk to the elevator without looking desperate. I’ll even agree to do so early. That’s more likely to work. Be realistic. It’ll take us an hour to reach the elevator. Everyone knows they won’t be able to reach you for three weeks.”
I loved being a cop. I even loved being a chief, but some days, I wanted to quit so I could go home and mooch off my wife. At least once a week, she promised she’d let me model underwear for her. She’d tossed the idea of having me model for profit.
According to her and her insane budgeting abilities, we could live for at least a hundred years on what she had in the bank account. On interest alone.
Sometimes, I wondered about Bailey. I never suggested she should change her job field, however, despite the obvious staring me in the face. When she touched money, magic happened.
Her new stock accounts agreed with me. I’d set them up after talking her into a hundred thousand of seed investment, and I managed the account to her specifications. She told me when to buy and sell, what to buy and sell, and she’d more than quadrupled her money.
She had no idea she’d quadrupled it, however. She claimed she trusted me to do the evil technological stuff she didn’t want to be bothered with, and that was that.
Perkins waved his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Sam. What did Bailey do now that has you off in la-la land?”
“She didn’t do anything. Well, not really.”
“Sam, you were staring off into space trying to figure your wife out again. I know that expression. Just spill it.”
“I was thinking about her stock investments,” I admitted.
“Her stock investments? She’s playing the stock market?”
“Not exactly. More like she made a stock investment plan when she was bored one week. It was when we had the shooter at Grand Central. She was fretting, I told her she wasn’t to come anywhere near the place until it was safe, and so she made a stock investment plan. She showed it to me, and I asked her if she minded if I implemented it on a hundred thousand dollar budget. It took some coaxing, but she agreed.”
“That poor woman. I swear, she needs some serious therapy for her self-esteem issues.”
I hadn’t mentioned anything about her self-esteem, but at the heart of it, he was right. “She’s been doing better.”
“While true, she is terrified of disappointing you.”
“Yep.”
“So? How did it go?”
“I keep reinvesting that hundred thousand she finally agreed to, and I have her update her plan once a month. Right now, there’s almost half a million in profit, after taxes, sitting in an account because I haven’t figured out the best way to tell her she’s a fucking genius.”
“Don’t tell her.” Perkins shrugged. “She’ll just freak out, and you can put that money into your retirement fund. She’s good at the stock market?”
“She’s better than good at it. She’s amazing. She’s had a few failures, but she’s got a knack for it.”
“Or a lot of time and an interest in market research?”
“I don’t know how. She can barely use my laptop.”
“She’s tricking you,” Perkins announced.
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“A woman that smart is not that stupid. She’s probably convinced if you know she can handle things herself, you won’t spend as much time with her.”
I hated he was onto something. “She has a piece of shit phone that can barely make phone calls, she had a computer, but I ordered it to be napalmed and she never got another one.”
“She just wants to use yours because it’s yours.”
Once again, I hated that Perkins was probably onto something. “I’m going to need time to think about that. Let’s get out of this joint.”
Perkins checked his watch. “Two minutes early. We could put a sheet over your head. That might work to get us out of here on time.”
“No.” I’d done the sheet walk once and only once for Bailey when she’d visited the station after a bad shift. She’d laughed so hard she’d crawled to the elevator, negating the sheet’s effectiveness. As I’d already sacrificed my dignity for my wife, I’d enjoyed trying to startle the officers on the floor.
It had made her laugh harder.
I hadn’t appreciated everyone calling me Casper for a week, but some prices were worth paying.
Gathering everything I needed for three glorious weeks off work, I decided on the bold approach, stepped out of my office, and announced, “If you don’t see me in January, the future Chief Quinn didn’t handle news of her promotion well. Wish me luck, have a great holidays, and I’m leaving. Ambush the stand-ins with any questions, and if you need anything from me, the answer is probably no. Expect to call the other Chief Quinn Chief Bailey, as I expect she’ll look at me if you try to call her Chief Quinn.”
Everyone laughed.
“We could just call her Chief Gardener,” Perkins suggested.
“No.” I’d won Bailey fair and square. “Chief Bailey will be more comfortable for her. You’ll have to use Quinn if we’re near reporters or officials, but she’ll need to be eased into it.”
Amanda, who had a desk not far from my office, chuckled and grabbed her coat. “We’ve got a new batch of puppies, and they’re looking promising. Any thoughts on if Bailey would make a good handler?”
Bailey teamed up with a police dog seemed like a disaster in the making. “If you can find a puppy capable of working with a fire-breathing unicorn, I’m game to try.” I was always game to try something that might offer Bailey a few extra protections. “What breed?”
“We have a few Malinois, a German shepherd, a Tibetan mastiff, and a wolf-dog. She’s half Egyptian, half Siberian husky.”
“Who on Earth thought that was a good idea? What’s an Egyptian wolf?”
“Think Anubis.”
Perkins snickered, and I sighed. My family would just love it if Bailey worked with an Egyptian anything, but especially a dog that resembled one of my divine relatives. “Test the wolf-dog with the horses. If the puppy doesn’t wash out, we can try it. If the puppy does wash out, why do I get the feeling someone is getting a puppy for Christmas? Keep me in the loop.”
A wolf might be able to guard my wife.
“Sucker,” Amanda muttered. “Break from Bailey’s self-defense courses until February?”
“Good idea. Email me the contact details for the trainer and if there are any leads on a retiring or retired dog Bailey can work with. May as well make sure she’s ready for handling if the puppy doesn’t wash out.”
“The wolf-dog puppy happens to be upstairs today,” Amanda informed me.
I frowned. Why would the puppy be at my station? The puppies were typically trained at a compound on the mainland and brought to a facility on Long Island for additional training and partnering with one of my cops, after which they came to Manhattan to serve in the force. It wasn’t the most efficient way to do it, but we didn’t have the space needed for the intensive training.
It also saved me thousands of dollars a year.
I did have a kennel and exercise room for the dogs in the building, but it was meant to keep dogs fresh on their skills, not train them from scratch.
I narrowed my eyes and stared at Amanda. She smiled.
“All right. I feel like I’m being set up.”
Amanda shifted her gaze away from me.
I crossed my arms and arched a brow. “Spill, Amanda. Who wants Bailey to have this puppy and why?”
“Commissioner Dowry,” she confessed. “He thinks the chief pairs should have at least one dog moving forward. Chief Bailey’s the type.”
“For what? Creating a calamity with her new canine sidekick?” I loved my wife, but she held the title of the Calamity Queen for a reason. Where she went, trouble followed.
Once again, everyone laughed.
“Come on, Chief. She loves babies. Baby animals especially. She also needs a dog who can keep up with her. Sure, wolf-dogs don’t typically make great police dogs, but she’ll be a great police dog for her.”
“What’s one more disaster in the making? Take me to this wolf-dog puppy, but you better have a really good sales pitch.”
“Commissioner Dowry said so. That’s all the sales pitch I need.”
“On a puppy who will likely wash out? Come on, Amanda. The wolf-dog is part husky. Huskies are great dogs, but they’re not great police dogs. They’re exhausting.”
“He found someone to help with the training.”
“A husky wolf-dog,” I repeated.
“Fine. So she’s a little energetic.”
Heaven help me. “Perkins?”
“Sir?”
“I don’t own anything for a puppy, and I have a feeling Amanda is implying I’m taking a puppy home with me tonight. We’re going to be late leaving.”
“You accepted this rather quickly,” he replied.
“Why waste my time or breath on the inevitable?” I sighed. “I don’t even know if Bailey actually likes dogs beyond her shameless drive to rescue them from dumpsters.”
Amanda chuckled and headed for the elevator. “We’ve the word of an angel that the wolf-dog will adore you both but will always be her dog.”