Burn, Baby, Burn

by R. J. Blain

  Sometimes, I truly hated the divine. Sighing, I followed the Devil through his palace of dark granite stone, pausing every now and then to admire the classical paintings on the ceilings.

  Michelangelo had created true masterpieces for the Devil’s enjoyment, and the images would haunt me for a long time to come, as he rewrote the entire bible from something closer to the Devil’s perspective.

  I halted at a depiction of Noah’s flood, pointing at the shores of an icy island. “Is that a cindercorn?”

  “Sharp eye. This isn’t from my perspective on this one, by the way. This is the true history. When the world fell to the floods, the last remnants of humanity fled to the mountains. This is the history of a vampiric family who survived along with some mortals and the last herd of cindercorns.” The Devil joined me and smiled at the painting, pointing at a pale figure. “Do you see the pale woman there?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “She is another unicorn, and the cindercorns took her in and kept her safe until she could find others of her kind. Bailey is a descendant of her and the stallion there.”

  My eyes widened. “I thought you said she was descended from Epona.”

  “Her, too. Remember, most divines are born from mortal children who inherit the profile. The mortals who become divine still possess their mortality as an echo. Those echoes are within Bailey.”

  “Are they still alive? Her relatives in that painting?”

  The Devil shook his head. “They died long ago. I believe one of her great-great grandmothers is still alive. A standard unicorn. She’s the last of her line for the cindercorns. And while her genetics are rather extensive, your genetics will lead to interesting children. For better or worse, they’ll take after one of you more strongly than the other, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you produce a winged cindercorn or variants of yourself with a few extra abilities. Either way, you’ll have your hands full, especially with the other children.”

  “I’m going to need a bigger house,” I predicted.

  “You’re probably right.” The Devil halted and opened a door, gesturing me to walk inside. I raised a brow at the massive bathroom, which was large enough to fit the entirety of my living room inside. “This is the best place for this work, as I don’t want to disturb my wife with your screaming.”

  Great. I just loved when someone informed me I’d be screaming. “This is going to hurt that much?”

  “It sure is. There’s only one way to attune you to her magic and make you a conduit, and that involves a lot of exposure to her type of magic. Fortunately for you, I’m the Devil. Little is beyond my power. It’s just going to hurt a lot. I recommend the tub, as it’ll make the cleanup much easier. Go on, strip. Wouldn’t want to incinerate your clothes or get blood all over them.”

  “You know how I was thinking hell wasn’t all that bad?”

  The Devil chuckled. “I did find that rather amusing.”

  “I was wrong.”

  Bailey

  Nothing amused me quite as much as trotting up to a gas station to get a hit of diesel. Perkette headed inside armed with the FBI clearance sheet allowing any gas station in the continental United States to feed me diesel, and once she got through the paperwork, she filled a bucket so I could have a drink. It lacked the punch of napalm, but it did a good job of keeping me toasty warm in preparation for the rest of the run west.

  At our current pace, I expected we’d arrive in Las Vegas before sunset, with a total transit time of three and a half hours.

  “You doing okay?” Perkette asked, waiting until I slurped up the contents of the bucket and refilling it before putting the nozzle away.

  “Not much tired,” I replied before returning to my sacred duty of consuming as much diesel as possible. “You have enough for more nay-palm after we find Janet?”

  Whoever had taken Janet would experience me at my finest, hopped up on my favorite fuel and ready for a party. I’d make the party so memorable nobody with a single grain of sense would touch one of my cops ever again. I hadn’t even had my first shift as an officer, and I was already as bad as Quinn.

  He’d be proud.

  “I can make one small batch, yes. Thank your grandfather for that; the extra five pounds I bought will give you a nice batch of napalm. If we really need more, I can get the FBI to dish out for the supplies. Unlike the CDC, they’re willing to work with your napalm habit. Banning it outright is typical CDC stupidity. If the situation requires it, why keep it out of your arsenal? Those bastards were willing to expose you to a damned nuke. Fuckers.”

  “I said no on that one, re-mem-bur?”

  “I was very proud of your restraint. I was too stunned to say a word when they said what they wanted to test.”

  “For two whole min-utes. Then you mad, very mad, ask if they were trying to make Quinn rampage and rip their hearts from their chests.”

  “You’ve really improved with your English, Bailey. Well done. Drink up so I can give the bucket back and we can get this show on the road. I don’t suppose you have any idea how far away Janet is?”

  I shook my head. “May-be if have map can tell?”

  Perkette skipped into the gas station and returned several minutes later with a road atlas, which she opened. “Try Nevada first?”

  I bobbed my head before drinking more diesel.

  Once she had the page open to Nevada, I concentrated on the map and tapped the paper with my claw. Ever since the incident with Quinn’s ex-wife, I’d found my magic more cooperative. I couldn’t tell if ambrosia exposure had done the trick, but I didn’t need any supplies to make a map show some of its secrets.

  A pink, swirling light appeared a short distance east of Las Vegas, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. “What here? There road?” I asked.

  Perkette checked her phone, referencing the map. “A gypsum mine.”

  “Why Janet at gyp-sum mine?”

  “That’s a very good question.” Perkette tapped at her screen, and her brows rose. “Apparently, it’s closed. Abandoned.”

  I read between the lines: it was the perfect place to stash a cop and perform all sorts of illegal activities—or start a new gorgon hive without humans getting in the way. I’d learned all about that from Quinn’s ex-wife.

  Starting gorgon hives just loved taking over abandoned buildings so they could expand their numbers before legitimizing themselves. I flattened my ears, guzzled the rest of my gas, and restrained my urge to snort fire at the thought of having to deal with more gorgons. “Gor-gons?”

  “It’s entirely possible. That’s totally the type of place a hive would move into.”

  I turned my head and regarded Perkette’s collection of firearms, which also included mine. “May need more guns.”

  “And more napalm. We could rescue Janet and burn the whole place down.”

  “Can get you more in-gree-dee-ants. For nay-palm.”

  “You just want to burn an entire mine down.”

  “I like fire.”

  “I know you do, but don’t you think that’s excessive? It’s a pretty big place.”

  “They take Janet, they deserve fire.”

  “While I’m not disputing that, shouldn’t our first line of offense be something other than burn the whole thing down?”

  “Res-cue Janet, then burn whole thing down. Get order right. Res-cue first. Then burn. Burn, baby, burn!”

  “This isn’t going to end well,” Perkette predicted.

  “This end great. We res-cue Janet, burn mine down, diss-ee-pline gor-gons. Take kids. If they have kids, they now my kids.”

  “You can’t just kill a gorgon hive and take the children, Bailey.”

  “Can, too!”

  “You really can’t.”

  “They take Janet. They no good par-rents. I bet-ter par-rent.”

  Perkette sighed. “But Sam already adopted two children, Bailey! And you have two dogs and a cat now. You can’t add more.”

  “If they have kids, I take kids. And Jan
et. Kids need bet-ter par-rents. Quinn good par-rent! May-be ask for more kids for Christmas? Yes? He like that? Me like that!”

  “I’m just going to hope they don’t have any kids, because I don’t know what I’m going to tell Sam if you add to the mayhem. More than you already are. And yes, he’d love having kids of his own because he’s Sam and loves children.”

  “You tell Quinn I want kids. Quinn okay because he like kids. Stop com-plain-ing. We run. Take buc-ket back.”

  Perkette sighed, returned the bucket to the gas station attendant, and mounted. “This is going to blow up in our faces, isn’t it?”

  “No, no. It blow up in my face while I have fun with nay-palm. You stay safe distance with Janet. Will be good.”

  “If you ask me to hold your beer, I’m sedating you,” Perkette warned.

  “Me no drink beer. You can hold my empty bucket of nay-palm instead.”

  “Heaven help us all.”

  I whinnied my laughter, waited until Perkette settled in the saddle, and headed west, catching a ray of sunshine the instant I reached top speed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Quinn

  The Devil pinned me in the bath tub, shoved a pill down my throat, and said, “This is going to hurt.”

  Great. I opened my mouth to ask what he’d given me when fire swept through my body. Instead of questioning the Devil, I yelped.

  As promised, it hurt, but the pain faded after a brief but intense flash. The next thing I knew, the tub had become a great deal more crowded. My visual perspective had changed, granting me a broader field of vision than I expected, but colors seemed somehow muted and less vibrant.

  “Oh, that’s unexpected. I guess it’s easier to shift when you’re already used to transformations. Well, that’s something. Memorize this form, nephew. It’s a good trick in your incubus arsenal when your wife is being stubborn and doesn’t want to shift back to human. When you stand, be aware you have four hooves instead of hands and feet.”

  How was I supposed to memorize a form?

  “Your grandfather’s a pain in my ass,” the Devil complained. “Not teaching you all of your incubus tricks. You need to remember the feel of it. Concentrate. Focus on the part of you that feels the oddest. That’s usually a good way to remember the feel.”

  Wait. Hooves? I blinked, lifted my head, and looked down. After seeing my wife as a cindercorn so many times, I recognized the black and red mottling in my fur and the tips of the retractable claws peeking out of my hooves. I snorted, and flame burst out of my nose. The flame’s color captured my attention, bright and vibrant compared to everything else.

  “Best class of transformative money and magic can create,” the Devil announced. “And because you’re already a shapeshifter, you can get back to your human form unlike most. Now, I did meddle a little to ensure you became a cindercorn; if left to your own devices, you would’ve become a rather impressive serpent of the dragon variety.”

  Dragon? I lifted my head to stare at the Devil with wide eyes. I loved Bailey, and I loved when she pranced around as a unicorn, but I could be a dragon? Because of my gorgon heritage, I’d skipped out on the transformative tests, as nobody knew what would happen. The CDC had gone along with it, as they weren’t sure what would happen, either.

  I’d need to find out if I could pop transformatives like Bailey and shift back at my whim.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. It’s one of the perks of being a shapeshifter. The CDC hasn’t clued in to that anomaly yet; lycanthropes, shapeshifters, and most demons can be influenced by transformatives, but thanks to their genetics, can transform back to human even with the potent drugs. You’ll be able to do that parlor trick one of these days, but when you do, it’ll really piss your wife off. Dragons are slightly more impressive than cindercorns. Unlike her, you’re not a natural cindercorn. I’m just taking advantage of your devilish and demonic ancestry to allow you to shift into her form. Of the appropriate gender, of course. You were aware incubi can shift into any species they want, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “The transformative is just paving the way with a few nudges from me. You were supposed to be in agonizing pain for at least twenty minutes. Unfair, dodging the first of your torture sessions.”

  The Devil had a wicked sense of humor. Aware I could poke holes in his tub with my claws, I rolled and got to my hooves, mimicking how Bailey rose when she lounged about on her favorite rug. I opened my mouth and experimented with my equine lips, which didn’t form the shapes I needed to speak very well.

  “That part I can’t help you with. It’s unlikely you’ll be mastering English anytime soon. Honestly, it’s impressive your bride can at all.”

  Being told I couldn’t lit a fire under my ass, and I twisted my ears back. “Can.”

  The Devil sighed. “You’re definitely my nephew. You must drive my brother absolutely wild. Keep doing it. I approve. I’m going to be your favorite uncle in no time. Just think the questions you want to ask. It’ll be faster that way.”

  I wanted to know why he switched between bride and wife when discussing Bailey, and I stared at him while waiting for an answer.

  “Blame our family for that one. They can’t decide how to address her, either. You’re just as bad, too. You like wife when you’re being particularly possessive, and you prefer bride when you want to be romantic or she’s wrapped you around her finger even more than usual. That’s not hard. She just has to smile for that. You’re hopeless.”

  I was. Careful to avoid destroying the tub, I stepped out onto the bathroom tiles, keeping an eye on my hooves and retractable claws.

  “So, now that you won’t be immediately incinerated due to exposure to hellfire, shall we move on to the next portion of the process? This part will hurt quite a bit, but you’ll find it worth the price. Mostly. As you can’t teleport without help, when you become a conduit, you won’t relocate yourself to another plane; that’s your bride’s problem. She can teleport, so once she uses her magic to its full potential, she’ll transport herself to a different plane. Her controlled teleportation is limited. Her real range goes beyond what she can control, thus the need for a conduit. What a conduit is, in this case, is a beacon she can teleport to. So, once you’re properly attuned, all you or your Sunny will have to do is create a beam of light for her to catch. That’s actually simpler than it sounds—at least it will be once I’m finished with you.”

  The Devil pointed at my left leg, and I looked down to discover my grandfather’s bracelet glowing through my fur.

  I lifted my leg for a closer look; I’d never poked much at Bailey’s left foreleg while she was a unicorn looking for the mark; I’d assumed it was still present in some form or another.

  “That’s the key to this working, truth be told, so you’ll have to thank my brother for that later. Once you’ve been exposed sufficiently to fire, you’ll just need to concentrate on your binding. That will reflect to your bride’s, and will open the conduit. Once again, after I finish forging the connection between you two. Now, follow along. We’re on a schedule.”

  For someone who thought he was on a schedule, the Devil strolled along without a care in the world, leading me through the high-vaulted hallways until he reached a door leading outside. Lakes of fire and brimstone merrily burned and bubbled away, with the nearest geysers of flame bursting towards the black sky close enough I could stretch my neck and touch them if I really wanted. Some form of magic kept its heat from me, and I appreciated the Devil’s air conditioning system once I realized how close the flames came to his home.

  “It is pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

  I bobbed my head.

  “All right, little nephew. In you go!” The Devil pressed his hands to my hindquarters and shoved me into the nearest molten pool. “Have fun. I’ll be back for you in an hour. Try not to burn the house down.”

  Bailey

  Perkette made me go to every damned FBI building in the state of Nevada for napalm before deciding I mi
ght have enough, including her homemade batch, to cause trouble at the gypsum mine. I disliked having to carry buckets of fluid on my back, as they tended to bounce into my ribs where they hung from my saddle.

  I also wanted to gobble them down, as I was tired, cranky, and ready for a nap.

  “You can’t nap,” Perkette informed me while triple-checking our guns. In the distance, the mine loomed, and the large, central dome gleamed in the setting sunlight. “We have to go rescue Janet.”

  According to my trail, I’d find her within the domed structure. Amusingly, my magic had common sense; it ended at the fence surrounding the compound, as though afraid it would expose my rescue attempt if it proceeded any farther.

  “Re-move sad-dle, re-move bri-dle,” I said, giving my mane a shake. “Need bag of neutralizer around neck. May need for Janet. You shoot people not me or Janet, yes?”

  “Shooting people is a bigger crime than a misdemeanor,” Perkette complained.

  “Death in de-fense of an-other is no crime. You no get re-cord. Any-one who chase us bad person who kid-nap Janet. Unless Quinn show up. Or Perky. Don’t shoot them. Or children. Unless they’re evil children?”

  “How am I supposed to tell if they’re evil children?”

  “If try to kill Janet they evil and only look like children. Like mini demon devil things.”

  “You realize you married someone who is part demon, right?”

  “But he sex demon, not kill Janet demon,” I replied in my most solemn voice. “Very sexy sex demon. Very.”

  Perkette snickered. “I love your brain so much. Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?”

  “You no im-mune to pet-ri-fi-cation. I im-mune to pet-ri-fi-cation. I look forward to stomping bad gor-gons.”

  “This is true.” Perkette sighed. “Please don’t get into any trouble. Please don’t burn down the entire mine.”