by R. J. Blain
Despite everything, I laughed.
Bailey
While we’d escaped the snow and the worst of the cold, I didn’t appreciate transforming at all. I emerged from the bathroom with a little help from Perkette, who held the door open enough that I could squeeze through.
Curious FBI agents observed from the hallway, and to make it clear I could burn and eat them, I bared my teeth, showed off my fangs, and snorted fire.
“Chief Quinn gets pissy when it’s cold outside, but I have her favorite treat in the car.”
Alfred’s brows rose. “Favorite treat?”
“Napalm. I made it myself.” She beamed at the FBI agent. “It’s made with store bought ingredients with the exception of high-grade neutralizer, which Chief Quinn provided upon request. You can’t even hit me with a misdemeanor for it.”
“I better file the forms sanctioning napalm consumption,” he muttered, fetching his phone and tapping on the screen.
I pricked my ears forward at that. “You auth-or-ize nay-palm for me?”
“Yes, I will. The situation warrants it. Please try to avoid any severe incidents. Will you need additional napalm?”
“Yes,” Perkette replied. “She will. Any flammable fluids will work, but napalm gives her the most energy and lasts the longest. I’m not sure how long my bucket will last.”
“Most agencies have a small supply on hand in case of emergency, but we measure it in cups.”
“Cup works,” I said, licking my lips. “Cup get me far. Bucket get me far-ther. But can work with cup. Po-leese keep gas. For gen-ur-ay-tors?”
“They should. You can run on gas?”
“Can. Not as good. Go gas station if need some.”
“I never thought I’d see the day a deputized civilian might need to gas up her unicorn during a cross-country sprint,” Alfred admitted. “How long do you think it will take you to get to Vegas?”
I flicked an ear back. “Two hour? Maybe three? Depends on fuel. I fast. No dep-u-tize Per-kette. She take over. Rule world. Bad idea.”
“Too late, Bailey. I got my papers. It’s okay, though. I don’t get to actually do anything other than accompany you on official business. It’s lame. Well, and carry a firearm. That part’s important. Anyway, I’ve clocked her in at over two hundred miles per hour at a full gallop, and I suspect her jumps are around light speed.”
“Light speed?” Alfred blurted.
I lifted a hoof, and aware I could destroy the floor, set it back down with a faint click. “I ride sunlight. It fun. Got-ten bet-ter at taking rider. Per-kette test often. She used to jumps. She no get sick. Sor-ry, hard to talk like this.”
“I’m having no problems understanding you, so you’re fine, Chief Quinn. You can travel at light speed?”
I turned my ears back and snorted flame. “No ex-per-i-ment on me. Can take one rider. Rider Per-kette. Or Sam. Sam can—”
Perkette clamped her hands around my muzzle and held my mouth closed. “You would regret saying that. Please don’t burn me.”
I didn’t burn her, but I thought about it. I waited for her to release me before I said, “Sam can accept offers of tran-spor-tay-shun whenever he want.”
“Good girl,” Perkette said, giving my shoulder a slap. “You stay here and keep Alfred company while I get your saddle and napalm out of the SUV, grab some neutralizer, and call the rental company to transfer the keys to Sylvester.”
My grandfather-in-law popped into existence, and I whinnied my laughter. “I took care of the rental company already, Tiffany. I thought you’d appreciate getting on the road faster. Go with her and get saddled outside, little one. I can handle the rest of the matters here. Let’s not bring the napalm into the building.”
I bobbed my head, careful to avoid stabbing anyone with my horn. “Pets okay?”
“Both are taking a nap in the upstairs conference room. Archambault is watching them.”
I lifted my head, pricking my ears forward. “He here?”
“He is. You want to see him don’t you?”
I whinnied again. “I fight him! For babies.”
Sylvester laughed. “You will later, little one. Don’t worry about that. Go rescue your friend. He’ll hold his word and let you fight him for them.”
I tilted my head and regarded the angel curiously. “You talk better now. Not so for-mal. Good angel. You do good.” As I could be as much of an asshole as an angel, I took a few steps back, reared, and patted his shoulder with a hoof, careful not to claw him. “Good angel,” I repeated.
“You’re something else,” the angel complained.
Pleased I’d finally won a round against the angel, I dropped to all four hooves and trotted after Perkette, my head lifted high.
Quinn
Some days, everything went right to plan. Others, the Lord of Hell showed up at the FBI building instead of the devil I’d actually called, not that I was actually able to reach Edwin. The Devil chose to make his appearance as a dark-skinned incubus with a pair of horns. I had no idea what type of suit he wore, but it worked so well with his wings and tail I almost forgot I stood in the presence of a divine.
“It’s a custom,” Satan announced, giving his cuffs a tug. “I’ll have my tailor make you one. You have plans to properly marry your wife, do you not?”
Devils, like angels, existed to drive me insane, and the Devil did just a good a job as any of the full divines in my family. I sighed. “How much?”
“Already paid in full,” he replied. “I owe you interest for a favor one of my devils owes you but is no longer able to repay.”
That drew me up short. “Pardon?”
“He disobeyed, so he’s in time-out right now. As he cannot repay a debt owed, I am paying it for you in his stead. It’s that simple. A bargain is a bargain, and while I’m annoyed you won the bargain against one of my devils, it is my role to ensure all bargains are rightfully paid. Your end of the bargain is worth more than merely teleporting you and your children and your friend somewhere on the mortal coil, so here we are.”
Perkins coughed at my side, and Beauty and Sylvester hugged my friend’s legs, staring at Satan with wide eyes.
“Devils take their debts seriously,” I informed Perkins. “And Edwin owed me a rather large favor for cleaning up a complicated mess.”
“That’s a gentle way of putting it,” the Devil replied. “I’m a rather nosy fellow, so I’ve taken the liberty of snooping to find out what you’re about. You won’t need to call in any additional favors for what you need, and a suit for you and a dress for your wife will help even the scales. Babysitting your children will also help even the scales. My wife adores the little ones, so she’ll keep them safe. I’ve also made room arrangements you’ll find rather pleasing.”
The Devil turned his attention to Perkins, and I tensed at his unrepentant grin. “As Chief Quinn was owed a rather substantial favor, I offer a contribution to your Christmas activities with your wife. A lovely woman, your Tiffany. Delightfully chaotic, disgustingly good-natured.”
Perkins’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”
The Devil’s attention returned to me. “I like him. You’re right to keep him underfoot. This is still insufficient, so I will pay off the remainder of the owed bargain with knowledge. You won’t even have to guess what the knowledge is—that’s what will make this valuable enough to fully even the scales.”
“Honestly, I have no idea why angels don’t like you,” I admitted. “You’re strangely likeable.”
“Oh, angels love me. They just hate admitting it. Your grandfather absolutely adores me.”
I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but I decided it didn’t matter. “Any ammunition I can use against my grandfather that won’t cost me in a bargain?”
“Of course. Tell him his big brother sends him a hug and kisses. And pretend to kiss him on the cheek for me.”
A laugh burst out of me. Some requests were easy to fulfill, and I’d enjoy watching my grandfather’s reaction. “I’ll do tha
t.”
“As a special bonus, just so your grandfather knows I was toying with his precious little grandson,” the Devil said before giving me a peck on the cheek. “Do pass that along for me, Samuel.”
Perkins choked, but before I could worry something was wrong, he laughed so hard he cried. “This is amazing. The Devil just kissed you. I can’t wait to tell Bailey about this.”
Bailey would spend hours trying to purify my cheek, and I’d enjoy every minute of it. “Please do.”
The Devil laughed. “If only you were a little less balanced. You’d make a glorious incubus. Alas, I’ll have to be satisfied with the mayhem that trails behind you and your bride. Here is the knowledge you need to know but that your relatives have been hesitant to inform you. First, I’m technically one of your grand uncles—or great uncle, depending on which way you like it. Your grandfather is one of my brothers, which is why that little kiss will drive him wild.”
Knowledge was power, and my brows shot up at the Devil bothering to claim a relationship with me. “I can’t tell if that’s interesting or terrifying, but I’m going to invite you over for dinner on Easter because I can.”
Satan tossed his head back and laughter boomed out of him. “I do love when I get to toy with my brothers, and so many of them are flitting around the mortal coil right now. This is related to your heritage as well. I know your grandfather has a rather secretive side to him. Sylvester, he calls himself now?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, you’ll like this. Your ‘incubus’ grandfather? He’s only technically an incubus. I converted him from a devil to a demon at his request, which is partially why you’re so well balanced. You’re part demon and part devil, which is why you have your particular form. I figured your grandfather would appreciate a slight edge. A Christmas present he doesn’t know about.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Not even archangels are completely infallible, and it’s difficult enough when they’re stuck on the mortal coil for so long. Also, a devil turned demon is better able to withstand angelic influence—and be better equipped to handle life in a triad. Despite appearances, I do like my brothers, even the annoying ones.”
Something clicked, and I sucked in a breath. “Are you saying my grandfather is an archangel?”
“Why, yes, I may be saying something like that. He’s Sariel. Christianity and the other religions have a slightly confused view of him. They like to say he has fallen. He has not. I suppose being a member of a triad might classify as fallen in their petty views, but he doesn’t feel that way. It’s the one thing we agree on. Triads are special—and the children of triads are even more special because they do not fall into either of our plans.”
“They’re what humans were meant to be,” I said, thinking about my mother and how my grandfathers treated her. “And my grandmother was a special woman. It’s more unusual two parts of the triad remained beyond her death, isn’t it?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Sariel and Agares form another triad should the right woman come along. Despite themselves, they enjoy being parents. Some are just like that. But I doubt that will happen until your mother’s death. They really enjoy being parents, and they don’t want your mother to experience the loss of a parent again.”
Family, as always, was complicated. “Agares is not a minor devil.”
“I see your education is not lacking,” the Devil replied, his tone pleased. “He’s not. And he still has his portfolio. He’s just enjoying his time on the mortal coil. It’s rare for the angelic and demonic—or even devilish—sides to be such close friends. But that’s how triads should be. Some are more chaotic than others, of course.”
I tried to imagine my grandfathers seriously fighting but couldn’t. They bickered, but they did so with a certain amount of glee. “Of course. It’s like putting a cat and a dog who hate each other on base principle in the same room together. Except in the case of my grandfathers, they like each other.”
“They’re known to cuddle up on the couch together when feeling sorry for themselves because their wife is gone. They’ll get over it eventually.”
“Are you saying I should invite them over for Easter, too?”
“I’d like that.”
“Consider it done. Bring your wife, too.”
“She’ll like that. Thank you.”
Perkins laughed. “This is the most bizarre conversation I’ve heard in my life, and that’s an accomplishment because I know Bailey.”
“So, with that out of the way, the next piece of information is about your wife.”
I tensed. “Is something wrong with Bailey?”
“No, no. Not at all. She’s just going to be more attuned to her divinity than before, and she’ll need a conduit back. Anubis provided this already, but I’m going to give you the ability to be a conduit for her. I have been snooping on Anubis on this matter.” The Devil’s gaze fell on Sunny, who wagged her tail. He smiled, and the gentleness of his expression startled me. “You’re a most excellent conduit, but two paths back is better than one, and he has the appropriate heritage as well. Anubis is simply too kind to be willing to discomfort his descendant. I’ve no scruples about torturing my nephew a little for his benefit.”
“I’m against torture as a general rule, but if it will help Bailey, I’ll do whatever is necessary.”
“Excellent. I’ll also work with Sunny as well, as this is my domain as much as it is your wife’s. Fire is our element—although hers is different.”
I sucked in a breath. “Hers is the fire of the sun. Yours is the fire of Hell.”
“I love when my brothers produce smart children—and in her way, your mother is just as clever as you. She’s figured out a lot of this on her own, although she’s not sure which angel her father is. Her last guesses were Gabriel and Michael, and she met both with her father in the same room, so she’s delightfully confused. She’s a splendid little niece.”
“Should I just call you my uncle?”
“Keeping track of the greats and the grands is so tedious.”
I agreed; my family tree confused me on a good day. “Why does Bailey need a conduit?”
“When pushed too far, she’ll transcend temporarily. Transcending involves abandoning the mortal coil for a period of time. However, because hers is temporary and will always be temporary, she needs to figure out a path to return here. She can only teleport where the sun shines. Your sun is not the same sun as the one that shines beyond the mortal coil.”
“Amun-Ra. The sun god. She’s one of his children, isn’t she?”
“She’s broken the rules, yes. She’s one of his children,” the Devil replied.
“So that mortal fucking asshole is Amun-Ra?”
“Not exactly.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is she the product of a triad?”
“It’s more of a quartet, and a very odd one. Amun-Ra, who does prefer to be called Ra, if you please, gets bored. But he’s a being of sunlight and fire; he never was all that good at manifesting on Earth, so he took over a human for a while. Her human father. This is where it gets complicated.”
“So, Ra possessed Bailey’s mortal asshole of a father?”
“Yes.”
“Let me guess. Someone possessed Bailey’s asshole of a mother, too.”
“You’re such a smart little nephew.”
I groaned and bowed my head. Bailey’s odd genetics began making a sickening amount of sense. “And Ra is the product of other divines, isn’t he?”
“So, so smart. And her divine mother is likewise the product of divines.” The Devil grinned. “She’s a first. A double possession so two naughty divines could indulge in each other. They forgot their actions could have consequences. It’s entirely possible neither realize Bailey was born. When they learn, your wife will find herself the subject of doting parents. Perhaps for Christmas?”
My eyes widened. “Her mortal parents are not ideal people. She’s having trouble accepting
people could care for her.”
“I’ll make arrangements for Christmas and bring them along with your attire for your special day. She deserves a little joy, and I do enjoy tweaking His nose whenever I can. As for her mortal parents? No, they aren’t ideal. There is a special place in my hell for them, as I do not appreciate when anyone mistreats members of my family—which she is thanks to marriage to you. That arrangement has already been made, and there is insufficient compassion in their darkened hearts to earn His mercy.”
After what had happened at the courthouse, my grandfather had likely indulged in an angelic temper tantrum, aiding in the loss of two souls from the heavens.
The Devil smiled.
“Who is her mother?”
“A Cahuilla divine representative of the moon, Menily. That’s why they did as they did. Their admiration for each other blurred some lines.”
“Cahuilla?”
“A Native American tribe. Menily is a quiet divine, and as is the way of things, opposites attract. She is a good tempered and sweet divine of the night, a rather misunderstood guardian. Ra is of the day. They met in the middle, possessing a pair of amorous humans for their tryst. They would have conceived your wife without interference, but their magic infused the newly conceived child. Hers was a rather unique conception, really.”
“Unique is one way to put it. Why does Bailey become a unicorn, then?”
“That would be the fault of one of her grandmothers,” the Devil replied. “Epona. You should invite her, too. When you expose Epona’s divinity to Ra’s, it’s sensible for the result to be a mix of the two. Cindercorns are the closest the mortal coil has to such a being, so that is what she became. It’s even more complicated than that, truth be told, but I don’t think there’s sufficient paper to even attempt to draw that tangled family tree. Yours is bad enough, little nephew.”
That it was. “And her immunities?”
“Her grandfather on her mother’s side—her divine mother’s side. Februus. He was, in the time of the Etruscans, a god of purification, death, wealth, and the underworld. She strongly inherited his purification magics. You should thank him for her resistance to death, too.”