The Flame Game

by R. J. Blain

  “Can mice get rabies?”

  Quinn made another phone call. “Police Chief Samuel Quinn with the NYPD. I need to speak to someone regarding rabies infections in rodents and small mammals, please.”

  While he waited to speak with someone, I continued my search through the data, making a list of places in Vermont with higher-than-usual infection rates.

  “Hello. Is it possible for field mice, feeder mice, and rabbits to become infected with rabies? Specifically, can captive mice or rabbits be infected? Let’s assume they aren’t killed by whatever rabid animal attacked them.”

  Whomever Quinn spoke to had a lot to say about rodents and rabies, and I watched the play of expressions on my husband’s face with interest, which ranged from annoyed to surprised. At the end of the speech, his surprise darkened to disgust and anger. “Can you provide me with a list of suppliers for feeder and lab mice and rats, please? Email it to me along with the names and numbers of any relevant contacts. Thank you.”

  Quinn looked like he wanted to fling his phone across the room, and having witnessed him do such a thing before, I snatched it out of his hand. “You will not fling this phone. You can have it back when you promise to behave yourself.”

  He sighed, and he slumped against the couch. “Yes, mice and small rodents can get rabies, but they’re usually killed by the rabid animals that attacked them, so transmission to other animals is exceptionally rare. Grandfather said most gorgon hives use feeder mice, as they’re cheap, readily available, and do not offend humans as much as chicks or other small animals.”

  “And you use chicks because of your wings.”

  “Right. Magic helps with that, but chicks are a better choice for my serpents. I have a deal with a butcher and an egg farm; whenever they have an incident with a rooster, the male chicks are frozen for me. They try to prevent that from happening, but it does happen from time to time.”

  “That’s where you get our eggs, isn’t it? I noticed you didn’t get ours from the grocery store.”

  “Right. I get them before processing, too. That’s why we can keep them on the counter.”

  “Gorgon-incubus doohickeys require a great deal of specialized care. Do wolves eat mice?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, the mice could have been used to spread rabies in other animal populations?”

  “That wouldn’t explain a thousand rabid raccoons in a town in a month.”

  I went to a search engine and searched for rabid raccoons in Long Lake, and to my astonishment, I found only one relevant result, which claimed there had been an unusual surge in rabies in the area, but that it had petered out quickly. “Only one news site reported about it that I’ve found during a quick search.”

  “You’d think a rabies outbreak of that level would hit the news. There were more rabid animals in town than people.” Shaking his head, Quinn retrieved my work laptop and resumed searching the internet for any clues that might help us. “I’m going to end up calling my grandfather back and telling him to have all feeder mice sent to a lab for testing.”

  “You should, especially from the hives with deaths. And pull their purchase records to find out where the mice came from.”

  “I’ll need my phone back for that.”

  “You may have it back, but you may not throw it. The only thing you’re allowed to throw is me, and only if you’re throwing me onto the bed.”

  “Don’t cry when you get what you ask for later,” my husband promised, accepting his phone back and calling his grandfather to begin the tedious process of learning if the feeder mice were infected with rabies and who might be behind the outbreak.

  I returned to churning through the CDC’s data in search of more clues on when the rabies outbreak had begun, so we might bring a permanent end to it.

  Five

  You’re stuck with me, so you better like me.

  When honest with myself, I had severe workaholic tendencies, something Quinn first attempted to resolve through the strategic placement of presents on my lap. When I worked around the box, he stole my new laptop, closed the lid, and hid it among the gifts.

  I gaped at him. “But I was working on that.”

  “You were. Now you are unwrapping presents and spending at least an hour doing something not related to identifying the key states probably somehow associated with the rabies outbreak. Once you have opened some gifts, I’m throwing you on the bed and having my way with you. Should you have energy afterwards, we will resume working. I need to digest what I’ve learned, and I’ve discovered you’re rather beautiful when intently working. As I’m just a man, I have reached my threshold of patience. Now, open your gifts.” To establish dominance and make it clear I would be doing what he wanted, he piled more presents on my lap. “I will bury you in presents if you don’t start unwrapping some of these.”

  “That’s quite the threat. Open presents or be buried in them.” I peeked over the pile, wondering just how we’d gotten so many gifts. “Why are there so many presents, Quinn? I don’t get this.”

  “People like you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “People like me? Like who? I mean, Perkette. She counts. Perky likes me, I guess. You’re stuck with me, so you better like me.”

  “I love you, which is far more than merely liking.”

  “I love you, too, but this is an excessive number of presents! Nobody likes me this much.”

  “Tiffany is responsible for at least six of the gifts. I put one of hers on your lap already. Arthur got us a present each, as he was concerned you might rupture something in your head if you got more than that from them.”

  “In addition to the like ten other gifts they got us on Christmas morning. I’m glad I had done my shopping early, and I owe your relatives for fetching the presents. I didn’t even offend either one of them, but I’m concerned over how much Perkette liked the miniature flasks. They were a prank. I think she now wants to do miniature experiments. We still need to get stuff for the kids.”

  “Bailey, I bought them almost an entire bookstore each when I found out they like to read. Apparently, Beauty wants to cook, so we’re going to have to potentially remodel our kitchen—or make sure our new house has a good kitchen. You’ve been showering them with affection, candy, and giving their snakes treats whenever I take my eyes off you. They’re not suffering from a lack of gifts. And anyway, my grandfather took care of the toy shopping, as he’s better at picking age-appropriate toys for gorgons, although ours are ahead of the curve in some ways.”

  “But they need the basics. They need a bedroom, and they need clothes, and they need bookcases, and they need toys.”

  “It’ll be fine. They’re going to share a room until they’re in their teens anyway. Sylvester will be wired to protect his sister until his sister picks her new hive. If we try to separate them, he won’t be able to sleep and will suffer from anxiety. I invaded my sisters until I was a teen because of those base instincts. Let’s just say my sisters were grateful when I moved out.”

  “Are they aware you’re a gorgon-incubus doohickey?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “They’ve never seen you? As a gorgon-incubus doohickey?”

  “They think I’m a shapeshifter who can become a gorgon, and as I did not want to be sacrificed to my sister’s gaggle of friends, my parents opted against telling them about the active incubus portion of my heritage. They know I have the genes just like they do, but I’m careful. What they don’t know about they can’t talk about.”

  “And you didn’t want anyone knowing you’re a gorgon-incubus doohickey.”

  “That cat is out of the bag now, though. All the cops know, so it’s a matter of time I’ll be fully exposed.”

  “You can expose yourself to me whenever you want.”

  My husband chuckled. “I’m still amazed you were able to keep your hands off me for so long.”

  “It was horrible. I hated when you came to my work, but damn did I love watching you go. And then you went off wi
th Mary on the worst shift of my entire career as a barista. Also the last day of my career as a barista. I don’t miss that job, but damn it, I want to know why nobody showed up for work.”

  “I know. After the divorce, I kept getting some seriously mixed signals from you. I thought I was going mad. I’d go to your work, you’d play me cold, and when I’d leave, you’d go hot and…” Laughing, he shook his head. “You’re something else.”

  “Hot and lusty and pissed off because I was hot and lusty and you hated me.”

  “Yes, I hated you. Utterly hated you,” he replied in his most sarcastic tone.

  “Do you know why Mary didn’t return to work? It’s been driving me crazy.”

  “You didn’t ask her?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her since I wrote a bitchy note I was quitting, and then I got bombed with gorgon dust, then you happened. I need to get another little yellow dress.”

  I’d let him decide for himself what I meant by my statement.

  “That dress won’t last ten minutes,” he warned.

  The first little yellow dress hadn’t lasted much longer once the incubus part of his heritage had come out to play, although I hadn’t known then he was more than just a human with a high magic rating.

  “I know. That’s the best part.” I laughed and rubbed my hands, eyeballing the presents on my lap. I picked up what could only be a lingerie box and tore into the paper. Chucking the lid onto Quinn’s lap, I plucked off the tissue to reveal a lacy bra and panty set. “Oh, look. Someone likes you, Sam.” I seized the bra and held it up, marveling how little there was of it. “Someone likes you a lot.”

  “I obviously need to send that person a thank you card.”

  I tossed the lingerie at him and checked the box, uncovering a card. I opened it to discover a gift certificate to an adult store. “Apparently, I’m being sent to a store for naughty things for our enjoyment. Do you think you can handle such an adventure, Mr. Samuel Quinn?”

  “That box must be Tiffany’s doing, as she definitely knows your sizes, and she’d find the idea of either one of us trying to go into an adult store to be the best entertainment money can buy. As a matter of fact, I can handle such an adventure. I’m not supposed to use real handcuffs on my wife, although I tend to ignore that rule at my leisure.”

  Whee. “It’s a date.” I placed the gift card onto the coffee table and tore into the rest of the presents, and it didn’t take me long to determine someone had blabbed to the world what my sizes were, as I wouldn’t need to buy any lingerie for at least a year, even if my gorgon-incubus doohickey destroyed a piece every day. “Is this normal?”

  “When I married Audrey, we got four toasters, three waffle makers, more pots and pans than any couple needs in their life, and a lot of towels and sheets. Do they like you or me?” Quinn picked up a particularly skimpy set in red and held it up. “Are they trying to tell us we need to relax? This is going to be a challenge. Knowing how much this stuff costs, I’m going to have to be careful. How are you supposed to wiggle into this without damaging it?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe you’re supposed to help me into it before helping me out of it?”

  My husband narrowed his eyes. “We’re going to need a babysitter that night.”

  I ran out of gifts and went to work flattening all the boxes to make more space. Frowning, I considered the issue of Mary and none of my co-workers showing up the day Audrey’s brother had brought me a bomb loaded with gorgon dust. “I wonder if that might be a good place to start with this investigation. Is it possible Audrey and her brother worked together to make sure I was on shift that day to give me that cell phone? I mean, I’m convinced she wanted to test my immunities, and that grade of gorgon dust was perfect for her needs. So that makes sense to me. But how did they get to my co-workers? Why did they all abandon their shifts? Was that ever investigated?”

  My husband frowned, directed his attention to my work laptop, and tapped at the keys. “That’s a good question. I don’t remember offhand if we investigated your co-workers extensively. We usually don’t question people who aren’t on a shift during a crime unless we have reason to believe they’re somehow involved. I do remember looking into McGee’s financials and not finding any ties to your workplace. That was one of the first things we looked into. For all credit cards and bank accounts we accessed, there was no record of him having been there prior. He disliked using cash for much.”

  “He used cash to buy his coffee. It was a twenty, and he didn’t want any dust, so I had to break a big bill for a small order, and that sort of thing is fucking annoying. He tipped more than he paid for the coffee, too.”

  “How much? Do you remember?”

  “He put a five dollar bill in the tip jar.”

  “Odd.” Wrinkling his nose, Quinn reviewed something on the laptop. “No, none of your former co-workers were questioned. I’ll have that rectified.” He grabbed his phone, dialed a number, and waited. “Hey. It’s Sam. I need you to pull up the original file for the gorgon dust bomb incident at my wife’s former apartment. It’ll be listed under Gardener. I need a pair to head over to her former workplace and question all of the employees, including the owner of the shop, Mary. We need to know why they didn’t show up to work that day. Get as much information as you can on it. You might need to get on the phone with the Queens chiefs for more information on the file, as we only have a partial record. If you need approvals, get ahold of the commissioner and tell him I’m pursuing an old lead for a live case. If anyone gives you trouble, have them call me.” After listening for a moment, he sighed. “Yes, that’s a good point. Tackle anyone in the stations who has gone to her former workplace and question them, particularly about the McGee family and any noticeable weird behavior by the employees. I’d like to get to the bottom of the gorgon dust incident. While we’re at it, reopen the files about 120 Wall Street and do another review of everything we have on it. I want a brief on my desk in a week. I’ll swing by to pick it up, so call me when it’s ready. Is there anything important I need to know about? Good. How is the new pair working?”

  While Quinn chatted, I returned to my rabies case tracking, making a list by city or town to get an idea of where outbreaks had happened, leading up to when New York and the surrounding cities and states had become the epicenter of infection reports.

  He hung up, set his phone down, and glared at it.

  “No throwing your phone,” I rebuked.

  “I was only thinking about it a little.”

  “Temper, temper. What has you worked up now?”

  “That was Paul Rudani, one of the more senior cops in our precinct. A detective. He usually works on the tenth floor, but he’s working on our floor until we’re back. He wants to question you.”

  “Well, yes. That makes sense. It’s a questioning session, Quinn, not torture. I didn’t do anything wrong, so it’s no issue. And if there’s something I know that’s important for the investigation, it’s worth the time. What’s the problem?”

  “He can be a little ruthless.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing during a questioning session? He wouldn’t do a very good job if he bit his nails and fretted over hurting my fragile little feelings.”

  “He has zero idea of personal boundaries during an interrogation. It’s something we’ve been working on.”

  “I’m not seeing the problem.”

  “He will ask you about my visits to your workplace. Extensively.”

  I loved my husband, but sometimes, he confused me. “And then I will extensively tell him you have a rap sheet of incinerated panties. Mine, for the record. I will even think I shouldn’t say that, but then it’ll fly right on out. And then I’ll start complaining how it’s your fault for daring to walk away from me. The view is pretty divine. You were put on this sweet Earth just for me. Maybe Audrey was like a set of training wheels? To be honest, I can’t ride a bike, so I’m not really sure.”

  “You can’t ride a bike?”

 
I stared at him. “Do you think my asshole parents would spend that sort of money on me?”

  “Damn it.” Slumping against the couch, my husband sighed. “He’s good at his job, he just doesn’t really understand how to be sensitive on certain matters. I don’t want you to get your feelings hurt because he can be harsh.”

  “Well, he’ll find out you are hot and bothered me, so I’m not particularly worried about that. I mean, it’s a good thing you’re hot and bother me, as the infection spread to you, so now we’re married.”

  “You’re not a disease, Bailey.”

  “No, I’m not an infection. I’m the best parasite!”

  “Symbiont.”

  “Parasite.”

  “You’re going to tell him you’re a parasite, aren’t you?”

  “If I’m going to be embarrassed during an interrogation, I’m taking him out with me when I go.”

  “You’re something else. Did you find out anything while I was being scolded about personal involvements in an ongoing investigation?”

  “Yeah. New England is definitely the epicenter of this rabies problem; while the Long Lake outbreak is the highest in number, Vermont trended upwards in cases starting eight years ago. There was one smaller outbreak in Maine, and two in Massachusetts prior. There’s no way of knowing if they’re related to the Vermont outbreaks, but we definitely need to make a trip to Vermont and Maine to have a look. Do you think we can get around the personal involvement issues?”

  “I think I might be able to, although we’ll have to link everything we’re doing with the gorgon dust and rabies outbreaks. Because of my heritage and your immunities, it makes sense for us to work the investigation; it would be potentially lethal to others, where we’re only mildly inconvenienced at most. We will be strictly warned off about the Morrison issue, but if we can happen to connect the dots to him from the gorgons he worked with, accidents happen.”

  I’d observed Quinn often enough to recognize the accident wouldn’t be an accident at all, and that my husband would use every weapon in his arsenal to make certain ex-Chief Morrison would never bother me again.