by R. J. Blain
“But what if I want to? They kid-nap Janet!”
“Bailey. It’s an entire mine! You can’t burn it down with the amount of napalm you have.” Perkette slid off my back, removed both buckets of napalm from my saddle, and set them on the ground in front of me. “Two little buckets. That’s not enough napalm for you to burn it all down.”
“I make it be enough,” I replied.
“You’re insane, aren’t you?”
“You just fi-gure this out? Silly Per-kette.”
“You’re right. It was obvious. Are you sure you want to go in there alone?”
“I be stealthy like ninja. Res-cue Janet. Then find out who and why and burn them!”
“Shouldn’t you try to arrest them?”
“No?”
“Bailey.”
“What? They kid-nap Janet. Burn them!”
“You can’t just burn people you don’t like, Bailey.”
“Why the fuck not? They take Janet!”
“Death is too quick and easy of a punishment.”
I thought about that for a few minutes. “May-be?”
“Not maybe. Definitely. You can’t just burn them, Bailey.”
“Why not? They take Janet.”
“You are a one-track mind hellbent on death, doom, and destruction.”
“No, I like fire. Not same.”
“With you, it is the same. You like fire so much you create death, doom, and destruction in your wake.”
“More doom and de-struc-shun. Less death.”
“That’s true. Fine. Do what you want.” Perkette opened up the first bucket of napalm and offered it to me. “Just be careful. I’d hate to have to explain how I let you get yourself killed.”
“Let is strong word. How you stop me?”
“I’m using this argument in my defense,” my friend announced.
I gave the napalm my full attention. Sometimes, the only way to handle Perkette’s brand of crazy was to ignore it.
Quinn
The Lord of Lies needed an attitude adjustment, and I contemplated shoving my horn right up his ass for locking me outside. No matter where I stepped, I encountered flame of some sort. Sometimes, it burst from the ground in plumes of steam. The lava had a tendency to follow me around like a puppy, which was disconcerting enough, especially when it liked to wrap around my hooves and legs.
That hurt enough I bolted without fail, often uncovering more of the Devil’s trickery and handiwork.
I lost count of the times I’d plunged into lakes of fire, pockets of steam and superheated gases, and lava tubes. Nothing ruined my day quite like being dunked head to hoof in molten stone.
Sometime after I lost count of how many times I’d gone for a fiery swim, the Devil took pity on me and provided a solid patch of ground. He stepped through a shimmering curtain of flame and laughed at me.
I’d put in plenty of thought on how best to stab my bastard of an uncle, but I hurt too much to follow through. I hadn’t known it’d been possible for horns to hurt, but mine did.
“It’s just a little pain, and now your tolerance for the flames is much stronger. You did just fine,” he announced.
I flattened my ears and snorted flame, waiting for him to get on with the conduit portion of the torture session.
“Sorry, little nephew. You get at least another hour playing outside before you can be a good conduit.” The devil planted his foot against my rump and shoved me into the nearest puddle of flame. “Okay, I’m lying. You don’t need another hour. I just wanted to push you into the fire because anyone else would start screaming and whine about how cruel I am to them. I’m the Devil. I’m supposed to be cruel. You’re just slightly miffed I’m inconveniencing you, and it’s delightful—except for the first time you were fully submerged. That was appropriately the fiery pits of hell. It’s delightful, isn’t it?”
I stepped out of the flaming puddle and shook my head. No, it was not delightful.
My horn was not supposed to hurt, and I had a much better understanding of why Bailey had complained after ramming a steel door while escaping my ex-wife’s incubus.
“So, the conduit part. It’s rather simple, actually. You have to teleport to her once and establish the connection. As I’m a terrible cheater, I will do this for you. Once the connection is forged, you can do whatever it is cindercorns do when performing rescue missions, as that’s the whole point of this, is it not? To rescue your little cop. She’s a delight, too, but you really should leash her—or give her to your bride as a Christmas present. I am pleased you decided to adopt her into your station, though. That’ll make it easier to keep track of her.” My uncle paused, and then he laughed. “You’re such an incubus, surrounding yourself with difficult women.”
I flicked an ear back at that and glared at my uncle. While true, did he have to say it? Once Bailey started coming to the station daily, it would be glorious mayhem married to overprotective zeal and wrapped in a beautiful package of determination. Amanda would join forces with Bailey, and in no time, the women would completely take over.
Then again, knowing Amanda, I’d have some of the best trained officers in the world, especially once news of Janet’s kidnapping spread to everyone in the station. Janet would be attending self-defense courses with Bailey, I’d be attending them because our schedules would finally align, and if I attended them, most of my officers would be squeezing time in their schedules to go to lessons, too.
And if they went to lessons in self-defense, I foresaw their wives and children attending, too.
All in all, my station had issues.
“But you’ll have issues while being exceptionally well-trained. Anyway, your bride is currently consuming napalm and is planning on attempting a rescue mission on her own. As I have missed quite a few of your birthdays and other holidays, I thought I’d be nice and help you forge said conduit so you can join her. It’ll be more fun that way. You can storm the place together. Alas, the delightful young Tiffany didn’t bring enough napalm to allow your bride to go on a true bender. I, in the utter goodness of my heart, am able and willing to assist you in this matter.”
Bailey plus napalm equaled mass destruction.
“This is true.” The Devil snickered. “You and Bailey plus napalm will be even greater destruction, and there’s nothing I like more than good old-fashioned destruction. That, plus it would be useful if you’re covering her back while she’s getting into trouble. Also, your great-grandfather is most correct. You’re going to panic delightfully. His attempts to appease you with a chill pill, however, will be a complete and total failure. You’ll just have to cope in other fashions. In this case, it involves a lot of fire and defending your turf and your cop. Oh, and Tiffany. Her, too. As a bonus, you’ll have ready access to napalm. You and your wife can indulge together.”
The more the Devil talked, the less I liked what he had to say, and I heaved a sigh. No matter what I did, I couldn’t catch a break. Then again, two cindercorns on a napalm bender could be interesting.
For someone.
I weighed the advantages of going on a napalm bender against the resulting hangover, narrowing my eyes.
“You can’t catch a break, but you can get a good rush from the best napalm ever made. You’re going to need a full tank to keep up with your bride. Admit it, nephew. You like the idea of keeping up with her for a change. Now, hurry it up. You have napalm to eat and a swift kick in the ass to endure so the connection between you two is fully opened. Also, I am not at all responsible for anything you say or do while under the influence of napalm. Just be happy I’m giving it to you. Your bride is on napalm limitations. You’re not. Yet.”
Yet. I hung my head low and groaned.
Nowhere in any of my plans had I considered going on a napalm bender.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be quite as bad as she is. I don’t really care about anyone else, but I’ll be entertained.”
The next time I accepted help from the Devil, I would remember he had a
wicked sense of humor, no boundaries, and a love for chaos and mayhem—and I’d also remember he was the Devil.
My uncle patted my shoulder. “It’s okay. I forgive you. It’s just everyone else you have to worry about.”
If it meant being able to help Bailey later, I’d deal with the consequences of dealing with the Devil, and I’d invite the whole family over to my house for Easter with a smile.
The Devil chuckled. “Don’t forget about the wedding. Invite everyone to that, too. Now, come along. You have a long evening ahead of you.”
Chapter Seventeen
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.”