The Flame Game

by R. J. Blain

  “Sadly, you’re right.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him before resuming my exploration of my bag, stuffing both of my laptops inside because I could. “This is nice!”

  “Before we leave, we can go make use of your gift cards, too. One of the group gifts should have enough for a new leather coat if you want one.”

  I sucked in a breath, as leather coats fell into the domain of wishful thinking unless Quinn showed up with one and tricked me into wearing it. “For me? But it’s your card, too!”

  “As my cops know what style of leather coat I like, they bought the coat. You watched me look it over for ten minutes, remember?”

  Oops. “I was busy looking at you and not your coat,” I confessed.

  “Obviously, I’ll have to attend to your special needs after we go shopping for a new coat for you. Get dressed, grab your new bag, and we’ll do just that. Leave your laptops here, as we’re going out to play and not work, but you should check to see if the image recognition request you put in on that photo has processed yet. It probably hasn’t, but there is a chance it’s done.”

  I obeyed, checking on the photo I’d taken during the demonstration. “It’s marked as eighty percent complete.”

  “Give it another few hours and it should be good. There were a lot of people in the picture. Fortunately, it’s an automated process, but it takes time to run everything. The software will even separate out all of the faces so we can see who might be who—and if there are multiple matches, we’ll get a list. It really helps streamline some elements of investigation.”

  “That is so cool.”

  “Wait until you have to put in for fingerprints or a DNA analysis. Things get far less cool, and sometimes, it can take days for the database to churn through everything and get results. The good scanners are outside of our budget.”

  “That’s a pity.”

  “It really is. Go get dressed, and I’ll see about making arrangements for getting us home in a hurry. I’m sure I can cut a deal with my uncle.”

  “No deals.”

  “Bailey, we can’t just demand everything from him without giving something back.”

  “He can have nice Easter and Christmas presents. No deals!”

  “Bailey.”

  “Unless the deal fully benefits us while sending us home, no deals.”

  “We have to make deals with demons and devils as part of our job. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

  “But we have special niece and nephew privileges, so we don’t need to cut a deal. We’re family, and he likes us.”

  “I’m going to tell him that, and if he laughs at me, you’re going to owe me.”

  “As long as the owing happens in our bedroom, at home, I’m all right with this.”

  “You’re absolutely wicked.”

  I smiled. “I really am, aren’t I? I’m definitely the devil of this relationship compared to your angel.”

  “And when you’re around, it seems my angelic side goes and takes a nap. I’m not your gorgon-incubus-angel doohickey, after all.”

  “That’s true. But you have black feathered wings. Your angel is just a little naughty is all.”

  “Later, I’ll show you naughty,” he promised.

  Nice. I skipped to the bedroom to get changed so we could get to the naughty portion of our day.

  I fell in love with a leather coat on display in the window, and its price tag broke my heart. “The gift card isn’t enough.”

  My husband chuckled. “The gift card covers most of it, and I’ll cover the rest because you saw it and it made you happy. I will insist you try it on first. That’s me being selfish, by the way. You’re sexy in black leather.”

  “But it’s expensive.”

  “Yes, it is.” Quinn caught me by the arm and dragged me into the store, and before I could stop him, he flagged down the first employee he saw, pointed at the coat in the window, and told her every damned one of my measurements from the waist up.

  Somehow, knowing he had as many issues as I did helped a little. While I spluttered, the woman checked the coat in the window, nodded, pulled it down, and brought it to me. Before I could open my mouth and protest, my husband robbed me of my stuff and held the coat open for me, so I could wiggle into it.

  It was a lot heavier than I expected, beating the super thin leather coats often up on offer.

  Heavy meant expensive. Heavy meant I might not need to replace it anytime soon, too.

  Expensive wasn’t so bad when I didn’t have to replace my precious jacket for a long time.

  “You’ve been teaching your uncle some tricks, haven’t you?” My face flushed from embarrassment while I tried the coat on, which fit like a glove but better. To my delight, the coat had pockets everywhere. The pair of pockets on the inside could even carry a small gun, keys, and a wallet. The exterior pockets could carry enough to be worth their while, too. “It has pockets,” I breathed.

  The employee, a younger woman with bright blue eyes and a ready smile, giggled. “All of the pockets zip closed, too. There is even an anti-thief layer between the liner and the leather. It won’t stop someone from cutting through the layer, but it will stop most knives.”

  That caught my husband’s attention. “What is it made of?”

  “We use a quarter inch of Kevlar beneath a layer of micro-weave polyethylene.”

  “It’s bulletproof.” Quinn considered my jacket speculatively. “Raise your arms, Bailey.”

  I obeyed, and to my delight, my husband frisked me, patting my coat down. “Should we be doing this in public?”

  The store clerk laughed. “He’s just confirming the fit in a hands-on fashion.”

  No kidding. “Do you like it, Quinn?”

  “Like it? I love it. Do you have a second one in this size?” Quinn tugged on the coat.

  “We have two more of them.”

  “I’ll buy all three, and give me one the size up, too.”

  “That’s too much!”

  “Bulletproof,” he replied.

  I frowned, wiggled out of his hold, and checked his coat, which was made by the same designer. Like mine, it was heavier than I expected. “Does this one have Kevlar, too?”

  “It does,” the clerk replied. “That’s one of our other models but in the same general line. They’re new this year. Both also have a layer of RFID-blocking material built into the liner.”

  “Do you have them in this size?”

  “Of course.”

  “If you’re buying me more than one jacket, you are matching me jacket for jacket,” I informed him. As I could see them being highly useful for our line of work, I’d do my best to ignore the huge hit to our bank account buying them.

  I couldn’t put a price on Quinn’s safety, and I had no reason to believe he didn’t feel the same way.

  “Done.” My husband shucked off his jacket and showed the tag to the woman, who nodded and went off to fetch our new apparel. “I had no idea it was bulletproof when I was looking it over. I noticed it was stiffer than I expected, but the cut works well with it.”

  Yes, it worked very well on my husband. “Isn’t it illegal to wear body armor when committing a crime?”

  He laughed. “In many states, yes. It is. Let’s look for ass kicker boots for you while we’re here. Looks like we’ve been sent to a place with a focus on leather.” With a sly smile, he pointed across the store, where a selection of boots designed to come up to right below the knee waited for me to admire.

  Some had heels, some didn’t, some had belts and buckles, but my new favorite pair had buttons up the side, which cleverly disguised a zipper for easy wearing. I hurried over, grabbed them, and checked their size, pouting when they were too small for me.

  The clerk returned with the coats, which she carried to the counter, and when she spotted me staring at the boots, she walked over. “What size do you wear?”

  I told her, and she shook her head. “I don’t have those in that size, but I have somethi
ng similar in the back that might work. We haven’t shifted the product lines, but since we’re doing it tomorrow, I bet my boss won’t mind selling a pair a little ahead, but I’ll have to ask her. Give me a moment.”

  I put the boots back and examined the rest of the store’s offerings while my husband amused himself at the counter with our coats, reading over the labels. A purse with a stylized unicorn stamped into the leather caught my eye, and it bore a striking resemblance to a cindercorn, especially in the presence of claws on the hooves and the thick, fluffy coat.

  It was red, and the unicorn was black, and I carried it over to my husband. Reminding myself I could afford the purse, I set it on top of the pile.

  Quinn blinked at it, and then he blinked at me before staring at the purse.

  “Mine?”

  “Why is that a question?” my husband asked with laughter in his voice. “I was just surprised you actually got something for yourself without me having to coax you into it.” He picked up my treasure and looked it over, his laughter growing when he spotted the cindercorn on it. “This was obviously made for you.”

  The woman came back with a pair of boots, and she grinned when she spotted the purse I’d picked. “Oh! That one is one of my favorites. The boots I pulled out of the back have the matching buttons. We have a product line with the two main species of unicorns. There is a pair of gray winter boots with white unicorns on them, a pair of red winter boots with the dark unicorns on them, there’s a winter parka with a white unicorn on the front and the black and red ones on the back, and some other accessories.”

  “Cindercorns,” my husband prompted. “What else do you have?”

  “We have some polo shirts, riding breeches, a pair of riding boots, and gloves. All of those have it in both styles.”

  “Men and women’s styles?”

  “Yes, we have both. Those are custom made, so you have to be fitted for everything, but we can do the fittings here and ship, or you can pick them up.”

  “Your uncle can pick them up for us when they’re ready,” I announced.

  “You like bossing him around, don’t you?”

  “No. I love it.”

  Quinn laughed. “All right. We’ll need to be fitted. If you like those boots and they fit, get them, Bailey. It’s not too expensive.”

  “Then let’s try the boots on, shall we?”

  “Most expensive gift card ever,” I muttered, following the woman to see if the new boots fit. Like the pair I liked, they had buttons, and true to her claim, they were decorated with tiny cindercorns. The cindercorns were also stamped onto the top of each boot. “Quinn, Quinn, look at these!”

  “Ah. Those must be one of the sets of riding boots. You better get three pairs, and we’ll use one for your horseback riding lessons, leave one at work, and the third pair can be for at home. And we’ll get you a pair of the standard unicorn boots, too. Actually, two pairs, that way one can stay at work.”

  “That is too many boots.”

  “It is not too many boots,” my husband replied.

  “You must really like unicorns,” the clerk said, her tone amused.

  My husband smiled. “Guilty as charged.”

  “But how can it not be too many boots?”

  “Because I said so.”

  I frowned, staring at the boots on my feet. I tested them out around the store, liking the way they felt. “They’re really nice.”

  “And they look great on you. Do you want to wear them out?” Quinn asked.

  I hesitated, but then I nodded.

  The clerk carefully removed the tag and carried it over to the pile of jackets destined to come home with us. “If you’ll come this way, we’ll get you measured for everything, and I’ll see what we have in stock in your sizes, and everything else will be custom made for you. I’ll need a phone number and email address we can use to contact you when your order is ready.”

  Quinn spotted something near the purses, and a moment later, he returned holding a wallet and coin purse with the cindercorn stamped on them. “It seems this store knew you would one day come to Vegas and prepared its shelves just for you.”

  I laughed, grabbing the wallet out of his hand and admiring it. “This is so cool!”

  “There’s a keychain, too.”

  “We need seven of those.”

  “Seven?” I blurted.

  “Two for the kids, two for the kids on the way, one for me, one for you, and one as the spare set of keys.”

  Huh. “Babies need keys?”

  “They will in a few years.”

  “Oh? You’re expecting?” the woman asked.

  “We’re expecting twins. It’s still early, so she’s not showing.” Quinn smiled, and he kissed my temple. “I’m pampering her now, and after the little ones are born, she tends to have trouble keeping her weight up, so everything should fit shortly after.”

  “It’s true. He tries to feed me everything, and I just refuse to gain much weight. I expect he’ll have me at a doctor every other day because he’s a worrier.”

  Quinn sighed. “Once every two weeks to begin with.”

  “Let’s just get measured before I run out of here or embarrass myself further, Sam.”

  “You’re fine. You haven’t done anything embarrassing.”

  “Yet. I haven’t done anything embarrassing yet.”

  “Why would you even think you’re going to do something embarrassing?” he asked in an exasperated tone.

  “Well, I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

  I loved his patience-worn sigh. “You’re something else.”

  The rampage through the store left us with more things than we could carry, so I made use of my new phone, debating which family member to impose upon. After a ten-minute debate with myself, I tapped the button that would call my father, the one I actually liked.

  “Bailey,” my father greeted. “How are you enjoying your time with your husband?”

  “It’s going great. We have zero respect for money, and we bought a lot of stuff. They have cindercorns on clothing at this store. Mostly, I wanted to see if I could abuse my daughterly privileges for help getting all of this stuff to our room. We rampaged. And apparently, Quinn is a standard-sized man, so they had most of the stuff for him in stock, and I’m a fairly standard-sized woman, so they had a lot of my stuff in stock, too.”

  My father popped into existence in a flash of sun-yellow light, and I hung up, as there was zero point in talking on the phone to someone standing right next to me. I showed off my new boots. “Look!”

  My father peered at the design on my new boots. “That is an admirable representation. Did she complain much, Samuel?”

  “Only that I bought too much of everything.” My gorgon-incubus doohickey regarded our collection of boxes and bags with a raised brow. “She isn’t wrong, but she would have put everything on display without ever wearing any of it if it was the only set she had. The new jackets are bulletproof.”

  “Excellent for your line of work. I approve. You definitely require help getting this to your home. When do you plan on returning to New York?”

  My husband smiled at me. “As soon as possible, honestly. We have some matters we need to take care of before she begins her training and comes to work with me. To handle that matter you discussed with her.”

  “Prudent. I will handle the matter of your gifts and taking these to a safe place for the moment, and I will teleport you home where you belong.”

  “I’ll need my laptops! And my box.”

  I didn’t want to tell the store’s employee my handguns were in the box, so I stared at my father and hoped he did the thought-reading thing and determined that I needed to go home and sniff—and possibly eat—the roses.

  My father chuckled, snapped his fingers, and flicked his hand in the direction of the counter, and both of my computers appeared on the glass with a soft thump, along with the important box of my weapons. A smaller box, which contained my ammunition, also appeared, as did my b
adge.

  “Your dad is pretty cool, Sam, but my dad is so much cooler than your dad.”

  My gorgon-incubus doohickey snickered. “I can’t even argue with that one, so I won’t, my beautiful. Put your computers in your bag and grab your boxes. It seems we have a short trip home ahead of us.”

  I did as told, making sure everything fit, and I put my new wallet, keyring, and coin purse in, too. To make sure it didn’t get put in storage, I slung my new purse over my shoulder with my other leather bag. I gave my new jacket a pat down, giving a nod when I confirmed everything was where it belonged. I picked up my badge and tucked it into my pocket. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  Ra turned to the store employees, who gawked at him. “If you would please watch over their things until my return, it would be appreciated.”

  “O-of course, sir.”

  “Ra,” he replied.

  “The divine?” she blurted.

  Ra seemed to enjoy being recognized a little too much, and I rolled my eyes while he preened. “The same. I shall return momentarily.”

  Unlike others, who seemed to need to touch to make the teleportation happen, my father chuckled. One instant we were in the store, and the next, we were standing in knee-deep snow in front of Perkette’s house. “Oh fuckshit!” I squealed.

  My father laughed. “My gift to your husband, so he might enjoy pampering you to his heart’s content.”

  “I might hate the other in-laws, but you more than make up for them, Ra,” Quinn announced. “And since I have a set of keys and the alarm code, I can check on their house while fetching our car.”

  “Yes, you will need your car, of that I am certain. Drive safely, enjoy yourselves, and call your mother after the moon goes up, Bailey. It’s now strong enough for her to manifest. Please do tell her I will see her in the morning; we can cross paths for a little while then, but only for an hour or two.”

  An hour or two beat not at all, so I nodded. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  “Now, I need to go reassure those humans. That will take a while. I will take care of making sure your hotel room is handled and all of your things are in safe keeping. I’ll bring them over when your mother can manifest during the day.” My father vanished in a warm yellow light.