16. I need you to zing me, Quinn.
SIXTEEN
I need you to zing me, Quinn.
While I kept a close eye on our pets, Quinn went to the bathroom. Avalanche growled over her scraps of moose meat, minced so she could eat it without any difficulty. Sunny devoured her bones with startling efficiency, and Blizzard spent as much time playing with his bones as he did chewing on them.
By the time my husband returned, with his smuggest smile in place, I’d been completely bewitched by our animals.
“They’re so cute,” I informed him, pointing at Sunny. “She is a most fierce huntress of bones. Did we get her enough?”
He checked under the table. “That’s a good amount for her to have, and we’re getting plenty for the road, so don’t worry. Your puppy won’t starve. I see your other puppy is making a mess.”
“He’s really good at that. It’s his special power, along with howling complaints should we dawdle and he needs to go out.”
“He’s surprisingly quiet for a husky and far less opinionated than I believed. The dumpster life must have toned him down.”
“He’s the perfect dumpster puppy, and he was only a little rabid when I rescued him. I still don’t understand why anyone would dump a puppy like that. If I hadn’t pulled him out of the dumpster, he would have suffocated in that bag.”
“Before you get too emotional, he is fine, he’s enjoying his bone, he’s quite possibly tied with Sunny for being the perfect puppy, and he’s going to have a great life, because he has you to care for him.”
I found praise a lot harder to cope with than one of his burns. “I need you to zing me, Quinn.”
“Was that too much reinforcement of why you’re a good woman?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll think of something appropriate. A good zinger has to be properly set up and deployed for maximum enjoyment. That plus it’s more fun if you’re not expecting it. The shock on your face is almost as delightful as your enjoyment of a good zinger. You’ll survive until the right moment comes.”
“You’re mean.”
“Yes, I am so mean. I’m forcing you to practice your coping strategies when someone says something nice to you. I am the cruelest husband.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
“Please don’t light my pants on fire. I know I’m tempting, but we’re in a restaurant.”
I giggled. “I’m not that bad!”
“Really?”
“I thought you were waiting to zing me.”
“That wasn’t a zing. It was a verbal caress and a warm-up for an actual zing, which will happen at a time of my choosing.”
I loved my evil, evil gorgon-incubus doohickey. “So, about that coffee.”
My husband showed me his phone, which revealed a text conversation with his angelic grandfather confirming I could enjoy coffee for at least a few more months, although I would be cut off five months into my pregnancy, as nobody needed a hormonal, caffeine-fueled cindercorn taking over or attempting to destroy the world.
Wow. The Quinn family had it out for me. “I’m going to feel that zinger for a while. That implies if I have any coffee after five months, I will be a world-destroying menace. Or the empress of the planet. Hmm.”
“We were just talking about how a merged jurisdiction would be too much work,” he reminded me. “You do not want to be responsible for the entire planet.”
Right. “Okay, no coffee after five months, then. But if my spiced grass supply is limited, there will be severe problems.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to take care of your special needs.
When we hit the road, I want you to start phase one of the flame game while I drive.
Build a document detailing everything the asshole has done, things we suspect he’s done, and start organizing it in a coherent fashion.
We’ll turn that into strategic press releases and commentary one of our attorneys will use to sway the public in court.
Skipping on bail means there will be a trial, he won’t be in attendance, although he will have a public defender, and it will be open for the public so the judge can hear all of the accusations and determine how to proceed.
That trial will exist because Morrison is a police chief being accused—and already determined guilty—of a felony.
We can do this because of my grandfather and your willingness to go through angelic verification. ”
“We can burn him fairly hard right out of the gate, then.”
“Right. My grandfather will testify during this to confirm his guilt, as due process does need to be maintained to a certain degree. This is our chance to layer on a lot of charges and help burn him in the eyes of the public.”
“What about Morrison’s son? Won’t he go under fire if he’s discovered?”
“We’ll have to work to prevent that. Ideally, we’ll be able to get a hold of him and put him into protective custody with a strong hive—and reunite him with his mother.”
“That poor woman.”
“She’ll be okay. Saven is a lot of things, but he has a surprisingly strong sense of justice.
It’s part of why he hasn’t been taken out yet.
It’s hard to break the cycle when the victims walk away better for it.
Yes, he commits crimes, yes, he’s definitely a criminal, but the victims often get life-saving treatments they couldn’t afford before becoming involved with his brood and their sex demons.
He chooses his victims with care. It helps he also harshly deals with the criminals who step across the wrong line.
If he keeps acting like that, I expect most law enforcement entities will continue to ignore him.
The replacement would probably be far worse.
And in some cases, he ultimately helps law enforcement. ”
“How?”
“He cleans house in his cities, and corruption in the force is a serious issue. That’s also part of why I’ve been given so many responsibilities. My precinct doesn’t have the corruption problems others suffer through.”
“That is because you’re one of those insufferably angelic types,” I replied.
“I try.”
“Okay. I can do that, especially if I will be armed with coffee. Did we have a second Thermos in the SUV?”
“We have three, plus we have several travel mugs from the gift shop. They had a cindercorn one I got you, so I’ll get that filled for you.”
“Cindercorns are the best. But why are there so many cindercorn products now?”
“Well, several months ago, somebody dusted 120 Wall Street with some high-grade gorgon dust, and a cindercorn mare, the most beautiful to exist, consumed a ridiculous amount of enhanced napalm, reducing the building to rubble. Upon finishing her hard work, she rampaged where a bunch of reporters could record her through the shield. She chanted wonderfully amusing love songs to her favorite narcotic, becoming a media sensation. Of course, New York opted to encourage the love of cindercorns, so you are now famous and a beloved force of destruction.”
“Your sarcasm doesn’t need any work. I thought you should know this.”
He smiled. “Well, you asked.”
“I’m on designer purses, Sam!”
“As you should be. You’re the most beautiful of cindercorns, and you’re all mine. But I am not entirely selfish, so everyone should be able to admire your badass beauty.”
“You are something else.”
“Finish your sea bug roll while I order treats for the pets to go and take care of your coffee needs. I’m also going to order you another sea bug roll for the road, as I know full well you’re ignoring those last two bites because you don’t want me to think you’re still hungry despite having polished off everything else. ”
Damn. I picked up the last token bite or two I’d left because he tended to keep feeding me until I couldn’t finish off my plate. “Better get me two,” I mumbled.
“I’ll get three so I can have one since watching you eat yours will make me hungry for more sea bugs, but I’ll give you half of mine because I can’t inhale food in quite the same quantity.”
“You’re the best husband.”
“You deserve the best.”
While I polished off every scrap from my plate and began the tedious work of convincing our pets they could finish their treats and bones in the SUV, after we put down a sheet to mitigate how much of a mess they made on the leather, my husband fetched the tools of coffee containment from our vehicle and ordered too much food to go, including the fries I’d drooled over but had skipped out on in favor of the healthier salads my husband liked.
I hid a twenty dollar bill partially under my plate, and then I repeated the process with my husband’s plate, making sure he didn’t catch me in the act of over-tipping, as he always tipped at the counter.
Once I finished my naughty work of tipping extra, I gathered our pets’ leftovers into the cardboard containers the waitress had left for us and joined my husband while the animals did their best to trip me.
“It’ll be about ten minutes, my beautiful. Do you want to handle their walk while I finish in here?”
I nodded. “I’ll make sure the snow is out of their fur before setting up their travel palace.”
Walking the three pets involved a lot of leash dodging and untangling, and all three of them handled their business like champs, although I wished Avalanche didn’t insist on burying hers, which added to the complexity of properly disposing of their messes.
I almost made it to the SUV when Quinn came out of the restaurant burdened with several bulging bags with the waitress following carrying a tray with our coffees.
“So much coffee,” I breathed with wide eyes.
My husband laughed and kissed my cheek. “Try not to enter orbit drinking most of it. Retrieving you would take a lot of work.”
The waitress laughed. “While I was making your coffee, he told me about how you had rescued two of your pets!”
I recognized the signs of hero-worship, as I indulged in such behaviors at least once a day with my husband. At a loss of what to do about it, I picked up Avalanche and held her out. “If I could have rescued her mother, I would have. This is a very lucky kitten.”