by RJ Blain
“I’m not sure how to invite them over for Easter or Christmas,” I admitted. “I would.”
“I can help you with that. I’ll have to make arrangements for your wedding, anyway. I’ll issue both invitations at once. I will enjoy informing Ra and Menily they produced a daughter. Tormenting them over their ignorance will be so very enjoyable. Ra will be rather put out with Anubis. It’s going to be a delightful wedding.”
“Wait. He’ll be put out with Anubis?”
The Devil snickered and gestured to Sunny. “He knows, of course. He figured it out when he saw her magics. There are limited divines who could create a child like Bailey. He’s known from the first time he saw her in the courthouse, that Ra had brought forth a child into the mortal coil, and she carried with her the matured powers of all her line. Her inheritance from Ra is minor compared to the rest.”
“Breathing fire and teleporting through sunlight is hardly minor!”
“Compared to the rest of what she can do? She has but an echo of her father’s powers. But that is for the best. Otherwise, you would love living flame and be left with nothing to hold.” The Devil patted my shoulder. “Come along, little nephew. Arthur, do watch over his little children for a while. They would be distressed should they witness what is required for my nephew to become a proper conduit for his wife.”
Before I could protest leaving the children, the Devil seized my arm and silvery light enveloped me.
Chapter Fifteen
Bailey
Perkette offered me the bucket of napalm, which I devoured while she sorted my tack. I stopped eating long enough for her to strap my bridle into place before she went to work on the saddle. I ignored her work, eager to devour the spicy gel before someone came to their senses and decided to take it away from me.
My grandfather-in-law stood nearby, the kitten cradled in his arm while Blizzard sat on his foot. “Tiffany, as you are far less durable than my little granddaughter, do make sure you take care. Let her be the one to run head-long into danger while you stay back and cover her back.”
“When an angel says I should mind my own business, even I’m smart enough to listen,” my friend muttered.
“There’s hope for you after all.”
Tiffany sighed. “You’re right, Bailey. Angels are assholes.”
I paused long enough to whinny a laugh before chomping at my napalm.
“No one is going to take your napalm, little granddaughter. You can take your time with it and enjoy your treat.”
I loved how the angel understood I chowed down on my life’s true ambrosia.
“She loves napalm second only to her Samuel,” the angel announced.
I swished my tail at that.
Tiffany chuckled and tightened the cinch. “Yes she does. And Sam loves all of his cops, even the pain in the ass ones, so even if Bailey wasn’t already the founding member of Janet’s fan club, she’d be itching to retrieve her personally. Janet’s all right for now?”
“For now. I’m not allowed to interfere beyond that. Helping you watch the furry children doesn’t count as interfering, either. Nor does dealing with the transportation of your vehicle.” The angel glared at the SUV. “I’m quite tempted to teleport it to Las Vegas, as I rather do dislike cramming my wings into one of those… things.”
I whinnied a laugh and licked the bucket clean. “No care how you get to Vay-gus. Just no hurt kit-ten and pup-pers.”
“The kitten and puppy will be safe with me, as will your neutralizer stash.” Sylvester shook out his wings. “Your rather impressive and perhaps unnecessary stash.”
“We were worried about a rabies outbreak,” Tiffany mumbled. “It could happen.”
“But it won’t. That is already written in the stars, and is a matter of the past. I am allowed to say that much. It will come in useful, but you didn’t need that much. I recommend five pounds.”
“I was bringing ten. I can make her another batch of napalm with the five extra pounds.”
“That would be one way to handle the situation. Perhaps you should take fifteen pounds in case she needs a larger napalm snack. She does so enjoy her napalm snacks.”
I pawed the bucket in search of even a drop of napalm, and I whined my disappointment when my search proved futile. “No more nay-palm. Is all gone. Why is it all gone?”
“It’s gone because you ate it, little granddaughter. You have the weapons, Tiffany?” Sylvester asked, his tone amused.
My friend hesitated before replying, “I could use a pocket knife, a box cutter, and a sharpie.”
Sylvester held out his hand and the three requested items appeared, landing on his palm with a soft thump. “By pocket knife, I assumed you meant one with extra gadgets. This one has thirty gadgets for your enjoyment.”
“So cool,” I whispered, flicking my ears forward. “What we need those for, Per-kette?”
“It’s your bomb defusing kit.”
I flattened my ears. “No need. Claws. Teeth. Eat payload.”
“I need them if I have to draw for you to figure out what you can cut and eat, Bailey.”
“I tell Perky you go play with bombs,” I threatened, daring to be the one to bring my psycho-but-lovable friend back into line.
“That’s cheating.”
“No cheat. Im-por-tant. You no play with bombs this time.”
Sylvester snickered. “The day has come, at long last, where my little granddaughter is the one being sensible. May all the angels of His heavens rejoice.”
“Syl-ves-tur mean,” I complained. “Asshole angel.”
He laughed harder. “Go on your run, little granddaughter. I’m sure my little grandson will appropriately reward you for your good deeds.”
I liked when Quinn rewarded me. Quinn liked his rewards sexy with a side dish of extra sexy. If he was particularly pleased with me, he’d shift, and I’d get to play with his serpents before he rewarded me.
Their bites only made everything better.
“You have to do the good deeds first before you’re rewarded,” the angel reminded me.
Asshole angel. I snorted, flattened my ears, and shot a thin stream of flame in his direction, careful to keep from singeing him or my pets. “You take care of my pets.”
“They’ll be perfectly safe,” he promised. “I will even take your little kitten to a mortal vet for a checkup and any care she might need while you are off rescuing your cop.”
“Okay.” I tossed my head and presented my back to Perkette. “You mount. Hold tight. We run fast.”
“What about your trail? We need that.”
Oh, right. The trail. We’d gone off the path, but I hadn’t ended the spell, either. Resetting the path wasn’t too difficult. I just needed to concentrate, throw the equivalent of a magical temper tantrum, and stomp my hooves a few times to reset it. The real work had already been done.
I stomped a hoof on the asphalt, concentrated, and snorted flame, which burst into a shower of pink, sparkling light that condensed into a trail I could follow. It didn’t follow the road as my magic typically did.
I supposed my magic understood I didn’t need to follow a road.
“I’m pretty sure that’s cheating,” Perkette muttered.
“Less whine, more ride. We ride fast.”
“Have a safe trip,” Sylvester said, stepping forward and giving my nose a brisk rub. “When things get dicey, don’t worry much. Where you go, my little grandson will always follow, even when you think it’s impossible.”
I turned my ears back at that. “You know something I don’t.”
“As always. There are reasons I’m not permitted to interfere this time. Had someone else not already interfered, I might’ve been inclined to exercise my free will more than He likes, but I’m confident the matter is in competent hands. Honestly, I’m having the time of my life right now. This is so gloriously convoluted.”
I tilted my head and bumped my nose against the angel’s hand, lipping at his fingers before asking, “
But not good hands? Just comp-eh-tent ones?”
“Good hands wouldn’t do the job quite as well. But while I would not say the hands are good, they’re fair and competent. That’s all I would ask for in this situation. You should hurry.”
Perkette mounted, and her weight slammed onto my back. I grunted, waited until she relaxed and was confident of her seat, and bolted west in search of Janet. I hit top speed in several strides, a trick I only did when Perkette rode me, caught a beam of light, and chased the sun west.
Quinn
In the future, I’d think twice before telling someone to go to hell. All in all, the Lord of Lies had a pretty nice home, although I found the temperature far colder than I liked. The long hallway of dark granite with painted, vaulted ceilings, reminded me of a full cathedral, and I held my breath while taking in the artwork overhead.
“It’s like the Sistine Chapel,” I whispered.
“What can I say? I’m a masochist.”
I shot the Devil a look. “I fail to see how you receive sexual gratification from a painting.”
The Devil laughed. “I don’t, but it’s so much fun toying with my mortal guests. Michelangelo spent time here for his sins, but rather that inflict the purest of miseries on him, I struck a bargain with him. He would paint the ceilings of my home before I gifted him with a second chance of life. I’m an asshole like that.”
He was? I admired the ceiling even more, noting how instead of mortal man, He reached out to touch the Devil instead, depicted as a flaming incubus who shed golden light in his wake. “Is that your true form?”
“No, not quite. I’m an angel, Sam. Should he have seen my true form, it would have destroyed his soul. I can create a likeness without this risk, but my form is not for mortal eyes. It’s as close as a mortal can stand—for how I am now. For all I’m considered fallen, my true form is still that of an angel.” The Devil regarded me with a smirk. “You’d be able to withstand most of it, but it would leave you changed.”
“Pass,” I replied.
He laughed.
“Still, I’m definitely putting in some second thoughts about telling someone to go to hell.”
“You should, especially once I’ve finished with you. Your word will hold more sway than you anticipate,” the Devil replied. “And anyway, if you think this is chilly, you should try the heavens sometime. The crystal road? It’s ice. Heaven is a cold place despite mortals portraying it as a paradise,” my uncle replied, grinning at me and releasing my arm. “As for my home? It’s called air conditioning, Sam. I enjoy it almost as much as my wife, who likes to view the entire house as her personal freezer. While my flames can rival that of even a star, hell isn’t all fire and brimstone. It’s personal for every soul I claim. And despite what most believe, the punishments always fit the crimes. For some, my hells are eternal misery. For others, it’s a mere blip before they’ve done their time and are given the choice to try life again, like Michelangelo. Eternity isn’t as long as some like to think, and for all I think my father can be an annoying dick, He’s not always an asshole.”
Sometimes, I questioned the relationship of God and Satan. “Isn’t the general belief system that you two are the first creations? That there can’t be one of you without the other?”
“That’s right. But he’s still, technically, my father. I exist only because He exists. It’s one of those annoying universal laws. And while I am the Lord of Lies, you’ll find I’m a disgustingly honest fellow.”
I could work with disgustingly honest and cheerfully sleazy.
The Devil laughed. “Now, before I worry your friend too much, it’s time to attune you to the flames. Your bride would become a little too hot to handle if I didn’t give you some of my ancestry properly. As I said before, your heritage is what allowed your angelic side to have some dominance—a necessity for you to exist as you do. I’m going to adjust the scales a little so you’re a little more devil and a little less demon, but you’ll still be more angel than both. I’m sure your grandfather is going to love this. It’s like a Christmas present to myself.”
“Should I be worried?”
“I’m about to put you through hell. So yes, you should be.”
I sighed. “And this will let me become a conduit for Bailey?”
“And let you cuddle with her even when she’s a unicorn snorting flame. You’ll be immune to her fires. Or, more accurately, you’ll be attuned with them, so they won’t hurt you. Someone dumping a bucket of napalm on you and lighting it on fire would still hurt. I can only do so much with what I have to work with, but as my brother so helpfully bound you to her, I have more leeway than usual. For once, I’m so glad I had to spank one of my devils. I don’t usually, you know. Fulfilling their bargains is a pain in the ass. But you held the only outstanding bargain, which made it worth my while. Otherwise, I would’ve just left him hanging for a while.”
“And here I thought my family was confusing before I added you to it.” Shaking my head, I wondered just how crazy my family tree truly was.
“It’s complicated.”
I laughed. “Which part? That I have two grandfathers on my mother’s side? That my father’s side is essentially the same? I still don’t know if I have any of my gorgon grandmother’s DNA.”
“You do. Gorgon reproduction isn’t far off from a triad, and the magic that makes a gorgon egg become fertile helped with your father’s conception. While he wasn’t born from a gorgon’s egg, your gorgon grandmother’s magic did help make your father. For the record, it was Emilie’s magic. She’s since gone on to stay with Him for a while.”
For some reason, I found that knowledge comforting. “And Beauty and Sylvester?”
“They told you the truth. Their eggs broke within their mother.”
I sighed. “Are you allowed to tell me the state of their mother’s soul?”
“She was reincarnated and her seed of life was given to a mother who would’ve otherwise lost her child. A rainbow baby, if you will. I sent one of my succubi to resolve the infant’s physical problems, and I provided her soul so the child could survive. I’m gentler with reincarnations than He is. For all He is the Heavenly Father, I’m the Sun in Glory, the Lord of the Morning—and new dawns are my specialty.”
“Yet you’re the Father of Sin, the Lord of Lies, and the Shepherd of Lost Souls.”
“I’m misunderstood,” the Devil replied with a grin. “Their father’s soul was likewise shepherded. They’ll meet again. Some things are written in the stars, and He is still new to His profile, so His heart is still soft. When He asks for a favor shepherding souls, I do tend to go along with it. He does loathe asking me, and sometimes, heaven isn’t a destination but a second chance to live life with a true love. They earned their heaven, however much it disgusts me to admit it. That’s a good way to earn His favor, in case you didn’t know. A selfless sacrifice always catches His attention.”
I sucked in a breath. “So their father is dead.”
“You already knew that.” The Devil smirked. “I like how mortals shut down and ignore what they can’t readily understand. I’ve told you He is not a static being, and that a mortal ultimately takes the place of another mortal to wear His shoes for a while, and you just ignore it.” The Devil snapped his fingers. “Humans are so entertaining.”
While I had ignored it, I’d done so because I’d already known. I arched a brow at the Devil, well aware he was reading my mind, and kept the subject on the gorgon male. “I hadn’t known for certain.”
“He is a compassionate soul, and He rewards those who are deserving. Instead of an eternal heaven, they were given new life. He thought a second chance for their happiness was their due. As I said, He doesn’t ask me for favors often.”
“Yet you’ll battle until the end of days.”
“Ours is a dysfunctional family.”
I blinked, and it sank in that if the Devil was my great uncle, that meant He was also a direct relation. “My family tree is fucked up.”
>
The Devil laughed. “Indeed it is. And you’re correct. Technically, you are a child of the Heavenly Host. It’s amusing, really. Your Bailey is everything you are not. That’s why you work so well together. And to put your mind at ease, you two have no relation to each other.”
I arched a brow at that. “Knowing my lineage, I find that difficult to believe.”
The Devil smiled. “From the beginning of time, never have your lines met until now. That is part of what makes you—and her—so interesting. Your children will change the world, just as you two have already changed the world.”
I raised a brow at that. “We have?”
“You have,” the Devil answered, and he gestured for me to follow him. “The rebirth of two phoenixes alone is enough to change the world, Sam. That act was the work of you both. That’s a great deal of magic released on the mortal coil, which in turns wakens other older things. Your wife will change the world again when she puts that idiot who wishes to become a god into his place. And she will. That’s written in the stars. The how of it is still to be decided, and I look forward to the show. Your Bailey? She is so creative. That’s her nature. She blasts right beyond the obvious solutions to problems without any realization there’s an easier way to go about her business.”
I grimaced. I’d been around my family enough to understand some events would happen no matter what mortals did to stop it, and I disliked the idea that my bride was in the center of one of those events.
I definitely disliked the idea she’d blast right by the easier, simpler, and ultimately safer solution. “I’m going to go gray before Christmas,” I groaned.
“Your hair is safe,” my uncle said with laughter in his voice. “Bailey raising two phoenixes was also written in the stars. It would have happened, perhaps at a different time and a different date than when you foolishly faced your ex-wife alone, but it would have happened one way or another. The first time she laid a hand on them, they would’ve risen. And with her field of work? It was inevitable.”