Burn, Baby, Burn

by R. J. Blain

  “Stupid,” Bailey announced, and she tossed her head. “All this because you stupid? You kid-nap cop? Are you mad?”

  “Shut up, bitch. I haven’t killed the cop yet. She deserves it for siding with you, though. I didn’t think there were two of you, though. I’d heard you could find anything. I guess they were right. I would’ve preferred selling you into slavery. That would’ve been a lot more profit for me on top of a hefty dose of revenge.”

  “You idiot,” my wife announced.

  I loved my wife, but I really wished she would stop antagonizing crazy people. If I opened my mouth, Winfield might recognize my voice, and I wasn’t sure how he’d react to that. While I could petrify him, I wouldn’t be able to petrify him fast enough to prevent him from shooting his dart.

  “Petrify the large unicorn,” Winfield ordered.

  The gorgon male sighed and focused his attention on me. The tingle I associated with an attempted petrification swept over me, far too weak to do anything to me. I flattened my ears, lowered my head, and set the bag of neutralizer on the ground.

  All right. If the gorgon wanted to play, I’d play. The Devil hadn’t said I couldn’t transform after finding my wife. And if, for whatever reason, I needed to be a cindercorn to serve as a conduit for Bailey, I could contact Perkins and get Sunny’s help. I dug my claws into the concrete floor and snorted flame.

  Then I embraced my true nature. Heat washed over me, and fire sheathed me before my body contorted, transforming from unicorn to gorgon.

  “In-cu-bus gor-gon doo-hickey!” my wife squealed.

  John Winfield’s mouth dropped open.

  The gorgon male’s snakes reared back and hissed. “You.”

  The flames sheathed me much as they had with the Devil in his hell, and while I found fire disconcerting to wear as clothes, Bailey hated when anyone other than her could admire my physique. I stretched my wings and rolled my shoulders. My snakes, save for Bailey’s beloved Francisco, hissed at the rival gorgon male.

  Francisco wanted his owed attention, and Bailey stretched her head to nuzzle the scarlet hooded cobra.

  I really needed to teach Francisco he needed to wait for cuddles when I had a gorgon male to deal with.

  “What the fuck are you?” John Winfield demanded, and he pointed the dart gun at me.

  Bailey’s body erupted into flame and she charged towards the former cadet. “No! Bad.”

  Everything made sense, and as the inevitable loomed, I lifted my hand, pinched the bridge of my nose, and sighed. Of course. At the first sign of trouble pointed in my direction, Bailey would be Bailey. She’d dive headlong into danger and get herself shot with a huge ampoule of ambrosia, something that would kill most people.

  Fortunately for me and my blood pressure, Bailey wasn’t most people.

  The concussive bang of the gun discharging confirmed my fears, but the cadet hadn’t fired in time; once Bailey decided to do something, she did it. A moment later, six hundred plus pounds of unicorn crashed into the former cadet, and she, as expected, plowed right into the wall.

  I grimaced at the wet crunch.

  Then I turned my attention to the rival male. “You have a choice, gorgon. Surrender to the Quinn family or join your women in death.”

  I thought I was being generous. The gorgon disagreed. He turned towards Janet, and his movement drew Bailey’s attention. Golden flames burst off her coat until she resembled the flaring surface of the sun.

  “No,” she said, and her voice hissed and crackled from flame. She dipped her head, grabbed the end of the dart that had embedded in her chest, and tossed it aside.

  The glass cracked, but it didn’t matter. It had emptied into my wife.

  I regretted I didn’t have my prescription chill pills with me. I’d need them in a few minutes.

  The gorgon recoiled, and his eyes widened. “What are you?”

  “Your worst night-mare,” Bailey replied, taking a step towards the gorgon. “You take Janet with that thing.”

  I leaned to the side to get a look at the fallen human. Upon closer inspection, ‘thing’ was an apt description. His body hadn’t handled the impact of six hundred plus pounds of angry flaming unicorn all that well.

  Gross.

  “That was the deal. I petrified and transported the woman, and he will rebuild my hive. He has a lead on a good breeder.”

  Bailey snorted flame, and her glow intensified. “Die, rapist asshole.”

  I opened my mouth to remind Bailey she had no proof he was a rapist, but the gorgon erupted into a column of flame. In the time it took me to blink, Bailey reduced him to ash.

  “Worse than asshole angels,” she announced. Bailey’s body turned translucent, and I tensed as the fires surrounding her intensified. She glanced at the bodies of the dead gorgons, and they, too, erupted into flame.

  Within moments, nothing remained of the gorgon females beyond a few blackened smears on the concrete and some ash.

  Then, like the smoke wafting upwards, Bailey disappeared.

  I had two realistic choices. I could do what I typically did when Bailey got herself in trouble and panic, or I could grab the bag of neutralizer, reverse Janet’s petrification, get her out of the building, and then panic.

  Either way, panicking would be on my agenda. I was just delaying the inevitable. Despite having been warned something would happen, it’d happened in a way I hadn’t been able to prevent.

  I could petrify just about anyone, but even if I had started petrifying Winfield immediately, I wouldn’t have been able to prevent him from shooting the dart, nor would I have been able to stop my wife from plowing into him. Knowing her, she would’ve gotten herself dosed with ambrosia anyway.

  Even understanding she was the daughter of two divines and the granddaughter of more divines, and the great-granddaughter of even more divines, I worried.

  Janet first, then I could panic properly.

  I grabbed the bag of neutralizer, hoped the powder without water would be sufficient to reverse petrification, and stepped to the officer’s side. According to her attire, she must have left work right before being kidnapped, as she was in her standard uniform. As typical with petrification victims, her clothing hadn’t turned to stone, which made it easy to disarm her.

  I discovered a half-filled water bottle hooked to her belt, which would make my life a lot easier. Cracking it open, I tore into the bag, dumped in the pink, sparkling powder, and shook it.

  I started with her head, and once I’d coated her head and hair with the fluid, I narrowed my eyes and began unraveling the magic binding her flesh to stone.

  To my disgust, the gorgon barely had the strength needed to petrify a human, and the gray eased from Janet’s flesh. I tensed while observing the reversal of petrification, giving her water bottle another shake.

  When she began to breathe again, I tipped the neutralizer-infused water into her mouth. “Drink,” I ordered.

  I couldn’t tell if she obeyed because of instinct or recognized I was helping her. It didn’t matter. She drank, which helped speed the reversal process. I supported her back as her body softened and she slumped. She blinked, and her stunned gaze fell on me.

  Then her eyes widened, and she looked me over.

  Right.

  Janet had never seen me in my true form before.

  Groaning, I bowed my head and sighed. “If I told you to pretend you hadn’t seen this, would you listen?

  “While I want to know what the hell happened, I thought you should know I now totally understand why Bailey has the hots for you.”

  I considered going outside and burying my head in the sand. “Thanks, Janet.”

  “Anytime. What the hell happened?”

  “You got kidnapped by a gorgon.” I pointed at the smear that used to be the gorgon. “That’s what’s left of him after Bailey got a hold of him.”

  Janet leaned forward enough to look at the pile. “What did she do to him?”

  “Mrs. Police Chief Quinn of
the NYPD took serious offense that he stole one of her cops.”

  Janet’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Police Chief Quinn? As in she’s a chief now?”

  “Yes.”

  “But she’s been working the bomb squad circuit.”

  I sucked in a breath. How many people knew about Bailey’s bomb squad activities? “Seriously?”

  We stared at each other with wide eyes, and Janet covered her mouth with her hands. “Shit. You didn’t know?”

  “I found out recently,” I replied, my tone wry. “Nevermind. She’s my partner now, so I don’t care if she was playing with bombs. Since she loves C4, I’m not going to even complain. Are you all right?”

  “My eyeballs itch.”

  “That happens with petrification sometimes,” I replied, rising to my feet and offering her a hand. She hesitated before accepting my help. Once certain she could stay on her feet, I retrieved her firearm, returned it to her holster, and spent a few minutes checking over her gear and making sure she hadn’t had anything taken from her during her kidnapping.

  They’d even left her phone in her pocket, which no longer had a charge.

  “What are you?” she whispered.

  “Part gorgon, part incubus, part angel, part devil, part demon, part human, and a part of a lot of other things all mixed together. There’s a lot of gorgon in my heritage, as my shapeshifting is rather unique.”

  “You’re dressed in fire.”

  “That would be the devil or demon in me, I suppose.” It could also have been from swimming in lava and brimstone in hell for a while, too. “It’s better than being naked. Transforming is hard on clothes.”

  Janet looked me over again, her brows rising. “You must spend a fortune on clothes, especially if Bailey talks you into tearing out of your clothes. Can’t say I blame her. And here I just thought you were shy, Chief.”

  Shy was one way to put it. I sighed. Determined to change the subject, I said, “You’ve been transferred to my station, which is why I’m here.”

  “Damn, really?”

  “Really.”

  “This day just turned around, because Chief Morriston? He’s a dick.”

  Considering Chief Morriston liked men like Winfield, I had no grounds to argue with her. “Well, he’s not your problem anymore. If you think you can handle a walk, we need to get out of here before this whole place catches on fire.”

  “How? Spontaneously?”

  I gestured to my flaming attire. “More like I’ll brush up against a wall and torch the place.”

  “Right. Where you go, Bailey’s rarely far. Where is she? Is she all right?”

  I gave it less than five minutes before the unsettled feeling in my chest grew teeth and made a mess of my day. “Winfield hit her with an ambrosia dart.”

  Janet sucked in a breath. “Oh no. She’s…?”

  “No. She’s like me. She’s the descendant of divines. But it was an entire ampoule and I don’t know what that’s going to do to her.”

  I hated lying, but unlike my grandfather, I could lie when the need was great enough. Like everything else in my mortal life, I somehow found myself having to make difficult choices for the greater good. I knew exactly what the ambrosia was going to do to her—had done to her. It had taken her somewhere I couldn’t follow.

  I really wanted to indulge in that panic attack, find a nice hole, hide in it, and chew my nails until Bailey returned.

  “She’ll be all right?”

  All right was a stretch, but I nodded, once again bending to the greater good. “She should be.”

  There. That was the truth. Should was a powerful and terrifying word.

  Janet relaxed and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Chief. We’re talking about Bailey here. This is the woman who reduced a skyscraper to rubble because she wanted to make sure you were safe. She’ll be just fine, but she might be a little pissy when she’s done doing whatever it is crazy unicorns do after being shot with ambrosia.”

  “Running amok,” I muttered.

  “Precisely.” Janet scratched her head. “Hey, Chief?”

  “Yes?”

  “Where are we?”

  “Somewhere in Nevada.”

  “Nevada? You mean like Vegas?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, damn. Why would anyone bring me here?”

  I regarded John Winfield’s body with a wrinkled nose. “I have no idea, and I have no idea how to find out. And that pisses me off.”

  “In your shoes, I’d ask Chief Morriston.”

  “I would? Why?”

  Janet arched a brow. “You didn’t know? Winfield is his ex-son-in-law, and they’re birds of a feather. That little asshole couldn’t take a piss without the chief knowing about it.”

  And just like that, things had gone from bad to worse. “You’re just as bad as Bailey at creating problems, Janet. I just thought you should know this.”

  The woman snorted but shrugged. “Can’t say you’re wrong. What’s next? A sweep? Blow this joint?” She hesitated, staring at my flame-sheathed body. “Not literally blowing the joint.”

  “Yet.” I had the feeling when Bailey found her way home, she’d want something to blow up. “Let’s get out of here, get to a phone, and place some calls. I can’t guarantee there’s no gorgon dust in here, so blowing this joint is for the best.”

  And, for a rare change, I knew exactly how to get what I wanted, and I’d enjoy getting my chance to level a building with the help of some napalm. If all went well, I’d invite Bailey along for the ride. I’d call it an early Christmas present and follow up with a monster margarita at the Venetian.

  We could call it a date.

  I just needed to figure out how to get her home first.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bailey

  I dissolved into glorious flame. I remembered the sensation; I’d been the purest fire when I’d torched 120 Wall Street. The thrill of life without a body filled me, and I basked in the joy of leaving everything behind and existing as nothing more than a thought.

  The world was mine to burn.

  “Most people would call charging someone armed with so much ambrosia foolish,” my great-grandfather-in-law, Anubis said, his tone amused.

  I whirled to face the divine, and I snorted flame, which ignited the grasses at my feet. Instead of charring to black, the green turned to brilliant golden sand, which wafted away on a cleansing breeze.

  The grass regrew.

  “That odd,” I said, pointing to the grass with a disturbingly insubstantial hoof. “I no die, right?”

  “No, little one. You didn’t die. Why do you always jump to such strange conclusions? You just went on a little trip. My great-grandson is handling this better than I anticipated. I thought you would appreciate knowing he’s caring for your cop while waiting for you to cool your temper and burn off the ambrosia.”

  Ugh. Ambrosia. No wonder I felt twitchy. “I do. Thank you. But why are you here? I smooshed stupid cadet. But he shot me. With ambrosia. Stupid cadet.”

  “Yes, that was a rather foolish move, pointing his little dart at my little great-grandson. I’m impressed all you did was run him into the wall. As for why I’m here, I’m here because this is my home. Well, somewhat. My home isn’t here specifically, but it is on this plane of existence.”

  I regarded the blue skies and brilliant sun skeptically. “This does seem much brighter than where you from, right? Is that right? You from underworld. That like hell, right? Not sunny place.”

  “I do have this tendency to poke my nose in the underworld often. It’s fun watching the dead toil in the afterlife.” Anubis regarded me with an ear twisted back. “It is not like hell, though. Wrong pantheon.”

  “But it’s e-quiv-a-lent?”

  “Somewhat but not precisely.”

  “You suck,” I muttered. “Be con-fusing on purpose.”

  Anubis laughed. “It’s one of my joys in life. No, I’m just a meddling relative, and I have fewer rules I have to follow
compared to many other divines. Or, more accurately, I have fewer scruples about breaking unimportant rules. I’ll be scolded by my wife later, I’m sure.”

  “Uni-ver-sal rule. Men be scolded by women for doing annoying things. Quinn need scolding. He bargain with Devil!”

  “He didn’t bargain with the Devil. He bargained with a lesser devil.”

  “This even worse! Worse! Worse! Bargain with best if bargain at all. He bargain with lesser devil? Then he show up cin-der-corn! Not in-cu-bus gor-gon whatsit doo-hickey. But he very nice stallion. Very nice. Very nice.”

  “He’s back to being his gorgon-incubus-whatsit doohickey self. Helping your cop was easier with hands.”

  “So sad,” I whined. “All gone? No stallion?”

  “He’ll be able to become a cindercorn again for you, I’m sure. It’ll just take him practice to master shapeshifting to other forms. I’m sure you can criticize him if he’s not the perfect cindercorn.”

  “Yes. Can do. Can do him.”

  Anubis sighed. “Yes, I’m aware. If we could not discuss my grandson like that, I’d appreciate that.”

  “Great. You forget great.”

  “It’s too much of a hassle to add it. It simplifies things.”

  “Okay. So you grand-father.” I flicked an ear. “Can skip in-law?”

  “If you’d like. No one will mind.”

  I bobbed my head. “This good! Now why here? This not there.”

  “You got pissed off after being injected with ambrosia. This activated some of your latent genetics, and as a result, you took a little trip to here. It has to do with your heritage.”

  “Right. Divine grandparent.”

  “That’s… not exactly accurate.”

  “Explain. D-N-A test say grandparent. That not right?”

  “Your mother, your father, all of your grandparents, a few more of your relatives, actually, you’re just one big ball of mortal divinity,” Anubis announced. “But you’re still mortal and not a divine because…” Anubis frowned and his second ear twitched back. “I’m not really sure why, when I’m truthful about the situation. I was volunteered to keep you company.”