The Flame Game

by R. J. Blain

  My father chuckled. “He is likewise grateful, as he is entirely incompatible with gorgon society despite his position as a future king. I spoke with his father this morning while you were getting dressed. He is a most interesting man. He is human, but when he is exposed to mild transformatives, his serpents make an appearance. Asps. I was given a demonstration. It seems your husband’s family does that trick to make certain they are aware that the line is intact despite the current king being mostly human. Gorgon politics are quite intriguing. Your husband’s cobras are superior, and few can compare. While his father appears mostly human, your husband is rather prized. I will get to see his true shape soon enough. That will make things interesting for you, as he will be in high demand among gorgon females.”

  “I will light them all on fire if they even think about it.”

  “That is something you have gotten from me. I am quite jealous when anyone looks at your mother.”

  “I’ve been known to show up as a cindercorn to defend my territory,” I admitted.

  “You get that from me.”

  I pointed at my husband’s legs. “He likes it.”

  “He does like being the center of your universe. So, back to serious matters. I recommend you begin researching how Audrey McGee became involved with gorgons, as she was unaware of your husband’s heritage. They were not close. Love had nothing to do with their union, although it is one of his regrets in a way. The regret fades day by day and will soon be gone, as he comes to terms with the role that union played in his union with you. He would not have had the patience or the fortitude to handle you without having coped with someone like that woman. He learned much about patience and tolerance from that relationship.”

  “I’m very good at testing his patience.”

  “Most would not be proud of that.”

  “I’ve been doing better. I only make him sigh a few times a day now, and I have to work at it now. Either he’s become even more patient, or I’m doing better at being a reasonable adult. Do you think caring for two gorgon children will help when the helpless human babies come along?”

  “You will be fine. Yes, caring for them will help you handle your offspring, although I would not assign them as humans. They will be adept shapeshifters and will need to learn early on how to control their powers. The first time they witness you or your husband shift, they will do their best to mimic you, as that is what young things do. They will not have your struggles with shapeshifting.”

  “But will they be legally human?”

  Legally human mattered; while we had weird abilities, Quinn and I still classified as humans. Barely. When it came to the law, classifying as human made a huge difference.

  “In the eyes of the law, they will classify as humans. All of your children will have a majority of human genetics, but they will be shapeshifters. You’ll find you’ll throw many fillies, and your first son will take after his father more than you. The fillies will be proper little cindercorns, although you may find the existence of wings to be vexing, especially as they grow older.”

  “Winged cindercorns could take over the world. I’ve seen what I can do to a skyscraper. Give me enough napalm, and it’s gone.”

  “Yes, I have been educated on your skills at destruction. That is definitely from my side of the family.”

  It amused me that my father seemed so determined to categorize all of my behaviors by who had contributed to my general inclinations. “We don’t talk about the skyscraper incident, however. It makes Quinn twitchy.”

  “Yes. He is reminded he feared losing you, although he is very appreciative of the aftermath. He has come to terms with that, for the most part.”

  “You’re nosy, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” my father replied with zero evidence of shame. “I have a great deal of spying to do to catch up for lost time. As compensation for my ways, you will find you will often have easy access to a babysitter should you need one during the daylight hours, and your mother will likely show up to introduce herself soon. She can be shy, and she may try to stealthily make herself known. Your charming awkwardness comes from her. Just look for a woman who trips over her own feet when the moon is visible in the sky. That is likely her. She tends to manifest in a form that will not draw attention to herself, as she is somewhat shy and reclusive.”

  “You are anything but shy and reclusive.”

  “She does tend to enjoy hiding behind me for some reason, much like you do with your husband.”

  “Well, I know where that tendency came from now.”

  My father chuckled. “When you begin researching Audrey McGee, start with your husband’s career in the police force. The scheming began early, even before his union with Audrey McGee. His awareness of her first corruptions will be a better guide for the investigation than anything else.”

  “And they were still together for a while before he filed for divorce.”

  “Yes. He’s not the quitting kind, although she ultimately forced his hand. He could not enter his own home without being sickened by her crimes against him. You have done a great deal towards healing those old wounds, but a larger house for your new pets would not go amiss, so he can fully bury the reminders. With your twins and the two young gorgons in your care, plus Sunny, your charming kitten, and your new puppy, you will find yourself challenged in terms of space. If you would like, your mother and I can begin searching for a new home for you, one that will handle your familial needs without requiring you to move in a few years.”

  “Let me guess: I will be incapable of stopping after the twins, because I look at him and get ideas, and then I’ll want to fight for every orphaned gorgon whelp to cross my path. Then I’ll end up with even more little gorgons under foot.”

  “You have guessed correctly.”

  “There are worse ways to go. Hey, do you like babysitting?”

  “You will find yourself having a difficult time getting rid of me now, and your mother will do what I cannot.”

  “Try not to cause a multi-pantheon war arguing over whose turn it is to babysit, please. I like Quinn’s family even though they’re crazy.”

  “Your tolerance for the weird and weirder will serve you well in the future.”

  “Are you game to come to Easter dinner? We invited Quinn’s uncle. It should be hugely entertaining.”

  “I have not participated in that particular religious ceremony before, but we shall be there, although your mother will have to wait for the moon to rise to make her appearance.”

  “I’m sure we can figure something out if the moon isn’t up during the day. If she can’t manifest, she can somewhat be present, correct?”

  “It is tiring for her, but yes. I have more restrictions than she does.”

  “Because the moon reflects the sun’s light?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you two be wed? Or do divines not do that?”

  “Would such a ceremony please you? If such a thing does, she is a most sentimental creature and would likely enjoy bringing me low as often as possible.”

  “As it seems like she’d enjoy it, absolutely.”

  My father’s soft laughter reminded me I’d never heard such sounds from my human asshole of a father. I announced, “Then you absolutely should, but only because she would like it. Then you’d make those pesky archangels bring you presents, because it’d be rude for them not to. You are family. And you’re not like the other part of the family. They’d just get smited.”

  “I believe you mean smote,” my father corrected. “I was asked about your sensitivity to angelic song and their halos. Your mother’s ability to reflect my light is the primary source of those woes. I do not know if you will be able to overcome that, but you will find the angelic host will be cautious around you in the future. There are some benefits to their powers.”

  “Like their ability to reboot my immune system when it fails?”

  “That is one of those benefits, yes. One day, you may even learn how to do that your
self. It is within your grasp, although it will be more of a learned trait than a natural inclination.”

  “I’m a badass.”

  “You are, although those powers do come at a price.”

  “Like being smited.”

  “Smote.”

  “Smited!”

  Quinn peeked under the tablecloth. “Are you really arguing with your father over that? It’s smote.”

  “Smited,” I replied, and I dared to lean forward and steal a kiss. “I win.”

  “Smote is still the correct word, but if it means I get kissed when I argue with you over it, I see no problems with this. Are you ready for your next steak? It just arrived.”

  I checked Quinn’s plate, which I’d picked clean of meat while talking to my father, and I handed it to him. “I left you some potatoes and green things.”

  He took the plate, and he replaced it with one with a new piece of steak, which took up the entire plate and lacked any of the potatoes or green things Quinn often tried to feed me. “That is good, because I stole your potatoes and green things, and I will sit here and enjoy eating it all. I refuse to share, so you’ll just have to eat that big steak all by yourself.”

  I claimed my prize, set it down, and rubbed my hands. “You are guarding our presents?”

  “I am making sure your presents are safe and sound, and I’m even telling them you’re spending some time with your dad—and not the asshole one. I have to specify, because a lot of the cops hate your human parents.”

  “Well, they are assholes, and someone told them about the courthouse incident.”

  “I may have asked the cops in Queens to keep an eye on our neighborhood in case they decided to pay you a visit,” my husband confessed.

  I sighed, rolled my eyes, and wondered how I’d gotten lucky enough to win someone like him. “I can transform into a unicorn, and I breathe fire. I can handle a pair of stupid vanilla humans.”

  “They might have a gun,” he replied.

  Being shot sucked. “I do not like being shot, and this is a very valid point. I do not wish to be shot.”

  “Again, my walking bomb squad.” According to my husband’s expression, he’d be getting payback in some form or another. As his version of payback involved the bedroom, I’d enjoy every minute of his scolding.

  “You can punish me for that stunt when we go back to our room and need a break from opening presents.”

  He laughed. “Is it a punishment if you like it?”

  “It is now.”

  He lowered the tablecloth to resume his conversation with whomever had come to pay him a visit. I went to work cutting up my steak. “Do you want some? I’ve totally made you hide under a table without offering to feed you.”

  “After you return to keeping your husband company, I will dine with Anubis and the Sphinx, as we have much to discuss. In your excitement, try not to forget the investigating you should be doing.”

  “I won’t,” I swore. “Morrison is the kind of asshole who’d try to get revenge solely because I still exist. Add in the charges? He’ll be back. I know this, and Quinn probably does, too. I’ll do my best to keep from worrying about it for a day or two, but I don’t want him to get too much of a head start. Since the gorgons were targeted and many of them killed, I’ll get the Quinn family to help. I’m pretty sure the gorgons have a network.”

  “Your husband fears the possibility of retaliation, but he is uncertain about the probability of it happening. His grandfather is aware of the certainty of such things, as he saw your memories on the matter.”

  “Sariel told you about that?”

  “He deemed it to be a wise decision, as I will not be a benevolent being should he hurt you. We are limited in what we can do, but there is nothing in the rules stating I cannot prepare you for what I feel will be an inevitable conclusion.”

  “Because he’s an asshole, and that’s what assholes do.”

  “Yes.”

  I took a bite of my steak, debating how best to handle the situation. “Well, this will be fun.” The instant Quinn perceived a threat to me, he’d freak out. Given ten minutes and an excuse, he’d involve the entirety of his crazy family. If his crazy family joined in, I’d be watching the kids and caring for the pets while they created havoc, which would give me an excellent opportunity to take the kids and deal with the problem myself.

  “Your logic concerns me,” my father admitted.

  “It concerns overprotective over there, too.” I pointed at my husband’s legs just to make sure my father understood which overprotective individual I discussed. “Worse, can you think of any part of that logic that was wrong?”

  “Alarmingly, I do believe your logic is founded on reality, which is as concerning as your general thought process.”

  “I feel I should warn you that I’m going to be a pretty terrible daughter, but in good news, the human ones survived me, so that’s something.”

  My husband poked me with his shoe, and a moment later, he peered under the tablecloth. “I heard that, and I’m enrolling you in therapy to address your self-esteem problems.”

  “What part of that wasn’t true?”

  “The part about you being a terrible daughter. The Gardeners are the terrible ones, and I’ll be implementing corrective training immediately.”

  I scowled. “Corrective training?”

  My father snickered. “I will, with some help from her mother, make certain she realizes she is not the terrible party. I wish you the best of luck with your efforts to correct the self-esteem damage, but given time, I am certain she will begin to see for herself how we view her.”

  I pointed at my father with my fork. “You are an unreasonably biased party.”

  “You will get used to it, I’m sure. Being the perfect child of divine perfection is challenging to come to terms with. I’m sure your husband will have no difficulties helping you on your quest to accept your perfection.”

  With that, my father disappeared in a flash of fiery orange light.

  “Huh. They normally poof off in silver or gold.”

  “That they do. Are you ready to come out from under the table now?”

  I considered it, nodded, and handed over my plate before rejoining him at the table to deal with the endless line of those wanting to wish us well.

  As I didn’t want to destroy my wedding dress picking a fight with a gorgon, I changed into a pair of jeans and a black top. Black tended to hide the stains better, especially when covered with pet fur. Anyone who thought I’d resist the furry charms of Sunny, Blizzard, and Avalanche counted as crazy, and I only wanted specific crazy people in my life. As the rescued ocelot kitten needed the most care and attention to questionably count as domesticated, she got the lion’s share of my attention, although the puppies didn’t seem to mind.

  Their new toys helped with that.

  To make sure I wasn’t late for my date with Quinn’s grandfather and have enough of a fight to please the unicorn in me, Quinn grabbed me by my waist and dragged me out of the suite while the angel watching over our pets gently took my ocelot from me.

  “Cruel,” I whined, and as my husband enjoyed when I put up a fight, I grabbed hold of the door frame and made him show off his muscles.

  He chuckled, pulled until I lost my hold, and hauled me towards the elevator. “I’m the cruelest of men, taking you from your puppies and kitten so you can pick a fight with my grandfather. You’ll just have to punish me later.”

  “Think the hotel will let me do any demonstrations as a fire-breathing badass? Cindercorns are so much better than gorgons.” As my husband was wise, he kept me out of range of anything I might use to put up a fight. I giggled, tried to dig in my heels, and enjoyed making him work for his victory.

  “I’m going to let you have that, as I’ve experienced what it’s like to be you—almost. I’ll admit, playing with fire is quite enjoyable, although I’m somewhat saddened napalm doesn’t function like pixie dust for me.”

  “Those hango
vers are the worst.”

  “They’re easily resolved. I just have to make sure you drink enough water afterwards. Your napalm rations will come with plenty of liquids afterwards. You’ll be okay.” Quinn pressed the down button, maintaining his vice-like grip while pinning me to his side. “I am thinking I’ll condition you to accept you’re also Police Chief Quinn through the careful rationing of napalm. I already refused to allow them to call you Police Chief Gardener. You’re mine.”

  I loved when my husband became possessive, although I missed when he growled Gardener at me. As it was our second wedding day and nobody lurked nearby to catch me, I asked, “But will you call me Gardener when I’ve been really bad?”

  “Call? Or do you mean growl or snarl it at you? There are other options, including purr.”

  Yes, my husband could purr, and I loved it. He also hissed nicely, especially when he shifted to his gorgon-incubus doohickey form. “Growl, snarl, purr, and hiss are all good options. Call is so tame compared to those.”

  “In private, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

  He really would. “Talk, talk, talk,” I complained, sighing when the elevator door opened. To my amazement, no one was inside. “That might be a first.”

  “Well, we’re on the upper floor and there’s entertainment to be had in the canals. I’m betting the hotel is about to make good money off you and my grandfather, and I can’t even blame them for monetizing your little scuffle.” He dragged me inside and hit the button for the first floor. “Your goal is to headlock him and braid his snakes without getting bruised in the process.”

  “He’ll probably just stand there while I crawl all over him attempting to knock him down and put him in a headlock. I’ve learned how gorgons operate. Unless I’m a cindercorn, I probably won’t be able to budge him. But I’ll just climb him, put him in a headlock that way, and braid his snakes together while he explains why it’s a bad idea to do what I’m doing. Then he’ll probably bite me a few times. Somebody mentioned testing my immunities while pregnant was good for the babies. As such, I’ll probably get bit by every damned gorgon on the planet. Just to make sure I’ve had exposure to all types of snake venom. Then you’re going to get all annoyed and insist you get to bite me more often than any other gorgon.”