The Flame Game

by R. J. Blain

  “She hugged me, because Ernesto is convinced there are no circumstances in which I would strike a woman, so I had to deal with accepting his affection. The succubus loved tormenting me. She left without doing anything nefarious beyond insisting she hug me every other damned minute. Making up for my ex-wife’s lack of affection, in her words.”

  I burst into laughter, as I could easily imagine my husband being grumpy a succubus was attempting to comfort him. “Sam? At a brothel? He’d die of mortification before he made it through the door. He’s an angel, Thomas. A real one. He’s just a little naughty sometimes. And anyway, his snakes get nippy, so they’d have a lot of bodies at the brothel, and that wouldn’t work well at all.”

  “A little naughty?” the gorgon asked, his tone a mixture of amused and astonished.

  “It’s the black wings. They suit him. He’s shy, so he doesn’t pose as often as I’d like. But those snakes of his are nippy, randy little bastards.”

  “She processes their toxin in a unique and fully beneficial—for her—fashion,” my husband muttered.

  If Thomas kept laughing so hard, I worried the gorgon would perish. Even his snakes joined in, hissing a storm.

  “Let me guess. They are a stimulant for her.”

  “Of a variety,” my husband replied in his most dignified tone. “Saven is really the vampire?”

  “He is. Do you think other vampires would be so willing to take in such a danger?”

  Quinn heaved a sigh. “No. You’re right. I’ll call him. I have his number unless he changed it on me again.”

  “I will leave you to that, and I will begin calling around other hives for more information, especially in terms of seeking out others who were infected with gorgon dust. Hautlin is the only known propagator, although she is not the only victim.”

  “Talk to my grandfather about the victims. It will help him feel useful in his retirement, and it’s an effort he can get behind. I’ll deal with Saven and see about integrating that poor woman with some hives and at least have her be able to visit with others.”

  “On it.” Thomas hung up.

  Quinn grunted. “Call Ernesto Saven.”

  The phone rang three times before an amused voice answered, “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Police Chief Quinn. It has been a long time since you have graced me with your company.”

  My husband rolled his eyes. “Mrs. Police Chief Quinn is with me, and you’re on speaker phone.”

  “I had heard you acquired a treasure. A good day to you, Mrs. Chief Quinn.”

  “I thought vampires slept during the day.”

  “I am old, and the sun no longer bothers me as it once did. Has she been bitten yet to check her resistance, Samuel?”

  My husband muttered curses. “Not yet, but if you were to bring the gorgon lady in your care to my residence, I’d permit you to see how Bailey reacts to vampires, but not until after the birth of our twins.”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering what my husband was up to.

  “I see congratulations are in store. Excellent. However, I had not mentioned my lady to you. How did you learn of her?”

  “We are investigating the production of gorgon dust and the utilization of rabies as a weapon. We stumbled upon her son, and the NYPD records stated his mother had disappeared. I inquired with a gorgon, who directed me to you, mentioning your lady is cloistered. As my wife cannot be infected with gorgon dust, she can do no harm to me, and our children should inherit the same abilities as my wife and I, it might be prudent to arrange visitations so she can socialize. Her children would likewise be welcome.”

  “I have tried to suggest she mingle with the established hives, but she is frightened. She thinks they will blame her for another’s sins.”

  “Well, I’m hoping to make that problem disappear completely. I’m tired of fetching my wife out of dumpsters to rescue rabid animals. It costs me a fortune in treatments. Add in that two of our children, who are gorgon whelps that we adopted, lost their entire hive to this mess…”

  Silence fell, save for the steady clicking of a pen. Ernesto sighed. “I loathe when the machinations of men make the young suffer.”

  “As do I.”

  I kept quiet, wondering what other secrets I might learn about the vampire with more compassion than many men.

  “You want information from Michella.”

  “I want to hang Morrison from the rafters,” my husband growled. “After cutting him open and allowing crows to feast on his entrails.”

  Ew. “That is gross, Sam.”

  “Warranted, however,” the vampire said. “Let’s barter, Samuel.”

  “I’ll bite,” my husband announced. “Remember that NY mafia group annoying you?”

  “With unfortunate clarity.”

  “Task force reassignments happen at the end of January, and I will leave a note for my wife informing her they deal in human trafficking and the illegal, unwilling sex trade. A pregnant, cranky cindercorn in charge of said task force will give you the results you want in a rather short period of time. If anyone can ferret the bastards out, it’s her. In exchange, you will help us eradicate the dust producers and find the source of the rabies outbreak. Be careful with your gorgon, Saven. They’ve been infecting feeder mice.”

  “Feeder mice? Interesting. We do not feed her snakes feeder mice. She has milk snakes. They prefer worms, so we just go above at night and dig for her if our supply is low. In a pinch, we will go to a bait store, but that is rare.”

  “She has no venom? How is she with petrification?” Quinn asked, his tone sharpening.

  “Her ability to petrify is practically non-existent, but she is highly contagious. If you have someone who wishes to become a gorgon, you go to her. But she lacks the defenses of other gorgons. Even her bile is impotent.”

  “Damn it. How does she infect someone if her defenses are nil?”

  “Blood transfer, like lycanthropy, or extreme contact to her bile. It takes a lot of bile to pass on the contagion, however. Her snakes can infect her victim as well, so she’s not precisely without all defenses. When her snakes bite, it takes several hours for the infection to take hold, after which petrification occurs. In a week, the new gorgon will reverse to flesh. None of those she has infected are contagious.”

  “How many has she infected?”

  “There is a hive of twenty members who have undergone the process. They were all willing.”

  “Snake species?”

  “Kingsnakes except for the male. He has Oenpelli pythons.”

  “Never heard of them.”

  “They are endangered and may go extinct. They are found in Australia. They’re constrictors. His snakes are gray, but sometimes they change colors somewhat.”

  “How are his petrification abilities?”

  “The hive is aware of its weaknesses and hide. I will have them tested for rabies and treated as necessary. They do use feeder mice and rats. I helped them get supplied from local pet stores.”

  “Good. If they are not infected, get them vaccinated.”

  “There is a vaccine for gorgons? For rabies?”

  “Yes. They dislike being treated as animals, but after seeing hives wiped out, most hives are vaccinating against it. They started a few weeks ago. If Chicago doesn’t have a supplier for the vaccine, call the CDC and put in the request. They will send a nurse, and you will need to give them the count of gorgons needing to be vaccinated. If the hive has a surrogate, she will need to be treated.”

  “The hive has an arrangement with my succubi as needed.”

  “How is their reproduction rate?”

  “The females produce one or two eggs per clutch, and their survival rate is fifty percent.”

  “That’s low.”

  “I’m aware. But the whelps that do survive are healthy, at least so far as we can tell. They have five, ranging in age between a year to three years old.”

  “Have they been socialized?”

  “No.”

  “Gorg
ons are social, Saven. My grandfather can educate the hive’s male, and Michella can socialize with my family, who is at no risk of infection. There’s no reason she can’t socialize with other gorgon hives as long as the hive’s bride isn’t present. There is no reason to isolate her.”

  “She isn’t isolated. Her company just isn’t at risk of infection, nor are they gorgons. She has been invited to meet with the hive she helped to create, but she did not ask to be the way she is now.”

  “You think Morrison forced her?”

  “I know he forced her.”

  “He is to be put on trial as it is, so if you can provide evidence and submit it anonymously to the CDC, that would be useful.”

  “The CDC? Not the NYPD?”

  “CDC. My wife is involved with the charges.”

  “I see. I have some contacts. I can ferret out more of his wrongdoings that can be filed. Limitations may be an issue.”

  “Do what you can.”

  “I shall. Are there any other matters you wish to discuss, Chief Quinn?”

  “Actually, yes. I’d like you to do some digging on the Gardeners. My wife’s human parents. More importantly, I want to learn about their involvement with Morrison and if they might be related to these incidents. Anything you can dig out on them, I want it. Submit any illegal activities anonymously, please.”

  “As you are helping mine, I will help yours. I’ll be in touch,” the vampire promised before hanging up.

  “And that is your first taste of the murky waters of law enforcement,” my husband announced. “How did you like it?”

  “I’m feeling a little cranky, honestly. That poor woman!”

  “This is a case of embracing the enemy with morals we know rather than encouraging unknown entities. Ernesto is a lot of things, but he fits a specific place in the criminal world. If his operations were to stop, who would take his place? Better to have a cooperative enemy we know than an unknown entity filling the void. Ernesto plays the game well. He toys with the police where he lives often. It’s a game for him. But there are some things he just doesn’t do, so he remains.”

  “And how does that sweet little angel side of you like him?”

  “Honestly? I’d let him babysit the kids. No one would reach them with that vampire on guard. That hive he’s caring for? Probably the best defended hive in the United States. When he gives his word, he means it. That’s what I like about him. Sure, he’s a crook, but he’s an interesting crook with morals. I can live with that. Would the FBI sink him if given a chance? Or the CPD? Or the NYPD? Sure. But that’s part of the game. You’ll get used to it.”

  “I will?”

  “You will. If Ernesto decides he likes you, he’ll come visit, like it or not,” Quinn replied in a rueful tone.

  “When was the last time Ernesto visited you?”

  “About two months before the 120 Wall Street incident. Don’t be surprised if we have a fanged visitor, and he enjoys toying with his prey, so he’ll have some fun with us before he raids our kitchen and complains I don’t stock the right ingredients for his culinary adventures. That time, I swear he brought half his brood, and they all love annoying me.”

  “Why do I have the feeling I’m going to like this vampire?”

  “You are pure evil and enjoy my suffering, that’s why.”

  “And yet you can’t get enough of me.”

  “It just happens the pure evil who enjoys my suffering is beautiful and perfect for me. It’s a burden I happily carry. But you are definitely being evil today. If you like Ernesto, I’ll have to let him into my house and act like I like it, and that ruins the fun.”

  “You like making him think you hate him, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “So he comes back to visit because you play pretend that you hate him.”

  “Basically.”

  “Are you saying you like him and act like you don’t so he’ll come visit you?”

  “That sounds about right.”

  Men. “You’re an idiot.”

  He laughed. “Love you, too, Bailey.”

  Shaking my head, I resumed my search for the clues that might lead us to where we needed to go and put an end to the rabies and gorgon dust threats once and for all.

  Eleven

  Have I ever told you I love it when you’re being sneaky?

  I compiled a list of addresses based on Audrey’s receipts, and we began our search at one she’d visited several times before her marriage to my husband. The navigation system in the SUV had trouble locating the address, but with a little help from an actual map, I found the place at the end of a long, winding road in the mountains of Vermont.

  According to Audrey’s files, the last time she’d visited had been five years ago, and judging from the decrepit state of the bed and breakfast, she’d been among the last of the guests to visit it. Had I not known better—if I hadn’t seen so many gorgon statues over the years—I would have believed the pair of women flanking the road had been art.

  “We didn’t bring neutralizer, Quinn.” The oversight annoyed me, especially as I owned an obscene amount of the sparkling substance. “Do you think our relatives will kill us if we keep asking them to carry things around for us? You know, super powerful divines relegated to fetch duty. I bet they could wave their hand and make all of these problems of ours disappear, and we use them to teleport our pets and stuffed animals around.”

  My husband stopped the SUV between the statues and got out of the vehicle, careful to keep from banging his door into the woman.

  Someone had dressed her like a Greek goddess before petrifying her, and her expression implied she’d been drugged with something, probably pixie dust, to force her cooperation. The clothes, likely through some form of practitioner magic, endured the elements.

  Most petrification victims had startled or disgusted expressions depending on which defenses the gorgon used. I followed his example, careful not to lose my puppies or kitten or damage the statue nearby while getting out. The ocelot pounced on the statue’s feet.

  Sunny sat down and barked three times.

  I rewarded her with a pat on the head. “Good girl.”

  “Bile or dust,” my husband stated with a scowl. “Her nose must be really sensitive to detect it from the stone.”

  As I didn’t want Blizzard or Avalanche to be exposed, I put them back into the SUV and kept Sunny on a short leash. “Call the CDC and request a delivery of neutralizer. There’s no way of knowing how long these people have been like this, and I’m the most qualified to get them safely reversed back to human without potentially spreading more of the contagion. And however much I like your gorgon-incubus doohickey form, I know you’re shy. I’ll scout the place with Sunny while you get a team here. Make sure we have jurisdiction. Just tell them we were visiting blasts from the past. That’s not a lie. We’re just visiting someone else’s past is all.”

  “Have I ever told you I love it when you’re being sneaky?”

  I smiled despite the severity of the situation. “No, not really. I’m not usually the sneaky kind, am I?”

  “You’re really not. I’ll take care of getting the neutralizer and help for the vics. Take your gun, unleash Sunny, and let her guard you.”

  I retrieved my Glock, checked over the weapon, and set Sunny’s leash on the hood of the rental. “Stay close, Sunny.”

  My puppy obeyed.

  Someone had gone through a lot of effort transforming the bed and breakfast into a garden filled with statues of women posed to be Greek goddesses, and one of the victims was a gorgon, one who’d been killed before being turned to stone, one of the human women posed in triumph with a sword, heavily rusted from exposure to the elements.

  Dark, old stains marred her clothes, and a few tears in her modern shirt revealed where she’d been stabbed through the chest. The stone beneath preserved the killing wound.

  I took care not to touch anything, walking around the building and counting victims before returnin
g to my husband.

  He hung up his phone while I approached. “It’ll take an hour or two, but a team is on the way. What did you find?”

  “A murdered gorgon. She’s been petrified, and one of the women has been posed to coincide with her statue. I believe she was petrified after she’d been killed. All the clothes look to be in good condition, so probably a practitioner helped with that. The sword is probably the murder weapon, and one of the statues is holding it.”

  “Damn it. How do you know she was murdered?”

  “There’s a big hole where it looks like she was stabbed in the chest, and the stone is likewise damaged. It’s near the heart, so it was probably quick. Even as a statue, she looks pretty dead to me.”

  “All right. Step one is to fully photograph the scene. This place has been abandoned long enough there’s no chance in hell we’d get any useful footprints, but try not to walk anywhere else you haven’t already been to limit the damage to the site. Take pictures of everything, and I’ll show you how to upload them as evidence into the system once we have a few moments. Get a good face shot of all victims, and we’ll try to do a black and white facial recognition scan. It looks like this got significantly more complicated than it already was.” My husband let out his breath in a gusty sigh. “It’s as good a time as any for you to start learning the ropes.”

  “I never thought I’d say working with bombs seemed a lot easier than this.” I dug in the back for my holster, strapped it around my waist, and stowed my Glock before arming myself with my phone. “Whose bright idea was it to make me a cop again?”

  “Personally, I’m grateful Clemmends had it out for you and wanted to dump you with the NYPD. You have far superior co-workers now.”

  That I did. “What a dick. You should have let me light him on fire and shove our marriage license down his throat, though.”

  My husband chuckled while he made his own preparations, which included arming himself and zippering up his new bulletproof jacket rather than show off his resilience against the cold. I pouted over his ability to tolerate snow and the brisk wind better than I could, regretting I hadn’t gotten a scarf, gloves, and the little things that helped make the outdoors during the winter almost bearable.