by RJ Blain
“You’re excitable.” I went along with her wishes and strolled towards where she claimed my relatives waited. “What’s gotten you riled up?”
“We have rooms at the Venetian, I’m starving, and I want to sleep. Your grandfather already checked us all in. There’s a room for you and Bailey, a suite for the kids and a babysitter nearby so you can have some privacy, a room for Arthur and I, and some of your relatives also have rooms. It’s going to be a madhouse.”
“How did they get so many rooms on such short notice?”
“I guess Vegas at Christmas isn’t all that popular?” Tiffany gave me another push. “You’re slow. Hurry up. I’m hungry, Sam.”
I shook my head at the woman but did as she asked.
Bailey slept like the dead, which did a good job of worrying me even more than when Winfield had shot her with ambrosia—or when she’d scared a few years off my life at 120 Wall Street. I worried so much that Tiffany and Arthur ganged up on me and stuffed a chill pill down my throat while Beauty and Sylvester laughed at my misfortunes.
Then, because children were truly a source of pure evil, they crawled into bed with Bailey and left no space for me.
Bailey hadn’t even woken up, and she already had both whelps wrapped around her finger. I wondered if she’d even get to fight, as the children would ultimately decide their fate. Judging from appearances, our little family had already grown by two without us having to lift a finger.
I wanted to join them, but unlike my wife and the kids, I had work to do despite being so tired I wasn’t against the idea of sleeping on the floor.
The Devil took pity on me and brought me coffee. “At least the new medication is much kinder to you. You’re mostly coherent.”
“Mostly. Did you have a good time tormenting your brother?”
“He is delightfully miffed I’m poking my nose in the family business. He’s also miffed he’s been fully exposed. Your parents are on their way. After seeing your friend’s reaction to teleportation, it was decided the rest of the family could fly in like civilized beings rather than sick ones. Your friend is fine. He’s enjoying certain amusements with his wife.”
“She’s going to be pregnant by the end of the day, isn’t she?”
“No, no. She’s being blocked until Christmas so her body has a chance to adapt to increased hormone production. Your grandfather handled healing—and creating—the appropriate bits. I’m handling the hormonal therapy. She has no idea what’s going on, although she’s enjoying some of the benefits of devilish meddling.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“You’re too much like my brother,” the Devil complained, and he flopped onto the couch. “Your menagerie is at the vet for paperwork so they can come to the hotel. The hotel agreed to them staying if the CDC provided documentation on them. So, expect them to arrive later this afternoon. Your schedule will be open until Christmas, when you and your bride will be expected to attend your wedding. Most of the arrangements are being handled. My wife got bored, so she wanted to help.”
I foresaw disaster. “Most of them are being handled?”
“We need to know if you want anyone in particular to be invited.”
“Beyond the family? Not really. If I invite one person from the station, I have to invite all people from the station, and I’m not sure we can fit that many cops here.”
“It could be done. It would also be possible to charter a flight to bring them here and send them home the next day.”
“That would be a very, very large wedding. Where would we hold it?”
“At the canals. The hotel has already consented to having the ceremony in the hotel proper. Dinner will be at the steakhouse, and we’ve managed to reserve the entire restaurant after their normal closing hours. That will give you time for your match for the gorgon whelps, which will be held at the pools for easy cleaning. To appease the hotel, it will be a demonstration match, so there will be guests observing.” The Devil chuckled. “That means bloodshed must be kept at a minimum. Mostly, you’ll be strutting your stuff while your wife shows off her immunities. The hotel will allow guests to be petrified if they sign a waiver and pay for the supplies required to reverse their petrification.”
Yep. My official wedding would be even more of a disaster than the courthouse fiasco. “How many laws will we be breaking in one ceremony?”
“Disappointingly, none. Well, maybe one.”
“Maybe one?”
“There’s the issue of your in-laws.”
“Which in-laws?”
“The ones I’ll be hosting at a later time.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Them. If they don’t show up, I’m all right with this. They’ll just upset Bailey.”
“I have reason to believe it would be very therapeutic for her to speak her mind on their poor life choices.”
When the Devil said something like that, I worried. “You’ve been peeking, haven’t you.”
“Of course. It’s a trivial matter in the grand scheme of things, and it’s close enough in the future to be of little consequence.”
I doubted I would ever understand the divine. “Just tell them if they show up, they will be able to remove Bailey permanently from their life. Then give them plane tickets and pay for lodging because they’re greedy assholes who would never spend a cent on their own daughter. I’ll even pay for it myself.”
“I will send you a bill. I presume you wish for their tickets to be for the most uncomfortable flight I can manage?”
“Tolerable seats. I’ll leave their torture for the afterlife.”
The Devil chuckled. “Excellent. That’s all I need. For the next few days, worry about your wife and children. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“Do we have to do clothing fittings?”
“My wife has already handled that. She’s rather skilled at judging clothing sizes.”
Someone knocked at the door, and I opened it to discover a handful of cops, an FBI agent with a badge held up, and Roberto. The CDC rep waved.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?”
“We need to ask you some questions about the kidnapping of your police officer.”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” the Devil announced before disappearing in a flash of silvery light along with the faintest hint of brimstone.
I shook my head at my uncle’s antics. “Please come in, but we’ll need to keep it quiet. The kids and wife are sleeping.”
“Still?” Roberto asked. “She’s been out since last night.”
“She ran across half the continent, and the children have been displaced enough they’re worn out. I’ve been promised, repeatedly, she’s fine and I should stop worrying.”
“And you’ve been given medication to help with that,” he replied in a wry tone. “We’ll need to question your wife when she’s awake.” Roberto grimaced. “Unfortunately, we’ll also need to question the young gorgons. They are the kids in your care, correct?”
“They are. I haven’t confirmed with them yet that their father will not be coming home,” I replied, careful to keep my voice soft. “That is something I’ll be handling this week. We don’t know what happened to him, do we?”
“Not definitively, but we have had reports of wiped out gorgon hives in several states along with individual males without hives. He could easily be any one of those. All of the bodies were incinerated to prevent the production of gorgon dust. We will do our best to avoid that specific subject with them, but we do need to know as much as we can about their home life prior to the death of their hive mothers and their father.”
“Were you able to get a confirmation they were treated with a glass coffin?”
“Yes. We also have records of the father paying a substantial fee for the assistance of an angel. The angel’s identity is unknown to us, however. They aren’t required to identify themselves unless they choose to. The angel did the work for a reduced fee, however. This was noted in the file.”
“He probab
ly didn’t have the money for the full fee after the glass coffin treatments.” My heart ached for Beauty and Sylvester. “I’ll tell you everything I know about the situation. Perhaps I’ll know enough to limit how much they’ll have to discuss.”
“It’s worth a try,” Roberto replied.
Everyone filed into the suite, and I was grateful I’d somehow gotten a suite with an actual bedroom so we wouldn’t disturb Bailey and the children. I sat on the floor to prevent a discussion of who would be left standing, leaning against the wall and making myself as comfortable as I could.
Drawing a deep breath, I began from the moment I’d met Bailey and told them everything I knew of my ex-wife’s plans, Bailey’s interactions with John Winfield, and the 120 Wall Street incident.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bailey
I woke up with more snakes than I could count in my face, and none of them were my husband’s crimson-hooded cobras. The snakes were a great deal smaller than Quinn’s, and I realized they were attached to two young whelps. I couldn’t figure out how I’d gone from a mine to a posh bedroom, but I didn’t mind having two children treating me like a pillow.
I did, however, mind the lack of Quinn nearby to snuggle with. I also minded the headache piercing through my eyeballs to dig into my brain with a sharp, pointy stick.
Napalm hated me.
Stupid, delicious, yummy napalm.
To make matters worse, I needed to go to the bathroom, and I had no idea how to escape the clutches of two sleeping gorgon children without waking them.
“Quinn,” I whined, well aware if my husband was in hearing range, he’d show up.
He hated when I whined.
Sure enough, my husband showed up, and he smiled at me. “I have your medication in the other room, and I’ll order you something for breakfast.”
“You are the best husband.” That was close to telling him I loved him, right? I needed to figure out why my mouth hated spitting out those three important words. I could do it even with a headache. I just had to concentrate. “I love you, but I need to pee.”
Crap. That wasn’t quite right. I’d accomplished the important part and would give myself a gold star for effort later, but I’d gone and messed it up by blurting too much.
Quinn laughed, approached the bed, and rubbed the little girl’s shoulder. “Beauty, you need to get up, little one. Bailey needs to use the bathroom.”
Like me, the little girl whined, but she turned and latched onto Quinn, which gave me enough space to scoot away from the little boy.
Unlike his sister, he was having nothing to do with my escape, and he tightened his grip. His snakes stirred, and they nuzzled my cheek.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t dislodge the little boy. I stared at Quinn with wide eyes.
My husband dared to laugh at me, shifted Beauty to one arm, and worked his arm around Sylvester. “All right, Sylvester. You need to come with me so Bailey can wake up. She’s not feeling well. You can take a bubble bath as soon as she’s done using the bathroom.”
Both children seemed to be fans of bubble baths, as they both clung to Quinn and woke up enough to stare at him with wide eyes. At first, I thought they were hopeful, but then Beauty’s lip began to tremble.
“She’s going to be fine, Beauty. She’s just really tired from helping a friend, and she ate something that upset her tummy. She’ll feel better after she takes some medication and has breakfast. You two need breakfast, too.”
I crawled out of bed, and while I meant to stand and walk like a normal, functional adult, I smacked into the carpet.
Quinn chuckled and nudged me with his foot. “I love you, too, my beautiful, but you need to get yourself together. It’s your turn to go through hours of questioning to make sure the FBI and CDC can do their work.”
I groaned, gave up all pretenses of being a mature adult, and crawled to the bathroom, which fortunately wasn’t far. “If I’m not out in twenty minutes, I fell asleep.”
“I would offer you coffee, but you’d be upset because your coffee is so much better. There’s tea.”
“I don’t want minty grass. I want coffee.” I made it to the bathroom door, used the frame to get to my feet, and leveled a glare at my husband. “I’ll accept bad coffee, but there better be coffee.”
“If you make it through your shower without falling asleep, I’ll provide coffee.”
My husband’s ultimatums didn’t need any work, and after glowering at him, I slipped into the bathroom and began the tedious process of restoring myself to base functionality. During my shower, I discovered I’d been nipped by at least fifteen snakes, and one of the biting assholes had been Francisco, as he liked trying to poke heart-shaped patterns into me with his teeth.
It would take days for my cleavage to recover from Francisco’s perverted attempt at art.
“Quinn, did you have to?” I complained loud enough to be heard over the shower.
As I hadn’t locked the door, Quinn cracked it open and poked his head inside the bathroom. “What have I done now?”
“Fransisco bit a heart into me again.”
With a smile that did a good job of convincing me I should invite him into the shower, he replied, “The children were upset after I put you to bed, and it was easier to calm them while shifted. He got ideas while I was distracted. I’d be sorry, but you were restless, and his nips seemed to calm you down, so once I saw what he was doing, I let him get away with it. Then the others joined in because they were jealous.”
“The physical requirements for this to happen are disturbing. Your head must have been on my stomach.” I pointed at my chest, where Francisco had left his mark. “Right in the cleavage, you!”
“I may have used you as a pillow while telling the kids a story.”
Damn it, I couldn’t even get mad over that. “Let me guess. The scaly bastards snuck up my shirt to complete their fiendish plans to mark my person.”
“Francisco started it. I would be sorry, but it’s a really nice heart, and you look lovely.”
“If you’re trying to be invited into the shower, it’s working. You should come join me. You can wash my back.”
And every other part of me.
Quinn laughed. “The children will be staying with my parents tonight, so you’ll have to wait until then. My parents begged, and the children seemed interested because they want to have a big family of people to coddle them. It’ll help them adapt to staying with humans—and my grandparents can reverse accidental petrifications. Hurry up so I can get you fed and get your medication into you.”
“But I want you to join me in the shower.”
“And I want to join you in the shower, but I have a bunch of law enforcement officers in the other room, and they’re keeping an eye on the children. Once they’re done with their questioning session, we have wedding planning issues to discuss, and then we get to spend until Christmas indulging in each other, seeing the sights, and playing with the children.”
“Can we go straight to the indulging?”
His smile truly did unfair things to me. “I’m afraid not, my beautiful. You’re all right? If Francisco’s bites are bothering you, I’ll scold him later.”
“I’ll scold him later, thank you. And cuddle him. But it looks like most everyone needs to be scolded. Did they all have to take a turn nipping?”
“The one on your shoulder was from Beauty. Her brother startled her, and she nipped. I scolded her only as much as necessary, but make sure you keep that in mind when we’re out; they’re both young enough still they nip defensively.”
“It’s a good thing I’m immune to snake venom.”
“It really is. You’d be frothing at the mouth otherwise. Are you feeling any better?”
“I’m feeling like I’m alone in this shower.”
“I’ll take a shower with you later,” he promised, backing out of the bathroom. “I’ve ordered breakfast for you and the kids, and it should be here soon.”
I
took that as a hint I needed to hurry up or risk losing my breakfast to a pair of hungry kids. I blitzed through the rest of my shower, piled my hair in a towel on top of my head, and changed into a pair of my favorite jeans, which would torment Quinn until he managed to get me out of them.
It would be a long day for both of us.
The hotel room’s living room had turned into an investigation site with papers scattered on every available surface. Despite Quinn’s claim the children were present, I couldn’t spot them. “Where did my babies go?”
“Kidnapped by my parents. You get three breakfasts because my parents have decided they will be rampaging through Vegas and exploring the city. My grandparents went with them.”
“Which grandparents?”
“All of them.”
“That’s too many grandparents.” I shook my head and wondered how I’d even eat one breakfast. I glanced at the various law enforcement officers, and I pointed at the CDC representative responsible for a few too many torture sessions. “Fiend!”
Roberto laughed. “Good afternoon, Bailey. How are you feeling?”
“It is not afternoon. Quinn said he had breakfast for me. Three of them. Breakfasts happen before noon.”
Quinn laughed, stepped around the various piles of paperwork, picked me up by my waist, and set me in front of the couch. “Make the woman some space so she can eat. And breakfast happened after noon because I called the front desk and asked really nicely for breakfast. I really wasn’t expecting my parents to take the kids, so you really do have three breakfasts to choose from.”
“Why choose?” I asked, plopping down on the couch between Roberto and an older man in a suit, likely some form of FBI goon ready to make my life miserable. “Bring the orange drink thing that makes the hangover go away, put coffee in reach, leave food. When the morning ritual has been completed, you may talk to me.”
Quinn chuckled but obeyed, and I attacked the glass of orange-flavored liquid that would bring relief within minutes. Once I chugged it so it could work its magic on me, I went for the coffee to restore my base ability to function.