2. This officially sucks.
TWO
This officially sucks.
Bailey
The universe hated me. A light dusting of snow ensured the roads would be hell by the time we escaped New York.
I barely eased Quinn’s convertible to a halt before Perkette slid into the vehicle, wrinkling her nose.
Since she knew I wouldn’t even think about putting the vehicle into gear until she buckled up, she grabbed her seatbelt and clipped it into place.
“This officially sucks,” she announced.
“Good thing we’re headed to Vegas, then. Does Vegas ever get cold?” I hoped not. I already shivered, and I had the heat in the convertible blasting.
“Hell if I know. Think you can handle some snow as a unicorn?”
“Will it kill me? No. Will I kill you for making me? Very probably. Someone better be dying before I deal with snow as a unicorn.”
“Point taken. We’ll use our second plan, then.”
I’d lost count of Perkette’s plans. “Is that the one where we pay a cabbie a horrific amount of money to take us to a rental place?”
“Yes, it is. It’s also the one where I get to drive because at this pace, we’ll reach my house sometime next year. Sam isn’t going to get upset with you even if you crash your convertible.”
No matter how often Quinn—and everyone else—fed me the same line, I didn’t believe it. One day, the bubble of my happiness would burst, and it would be my fault. “He really loves this car.”
“He loves you more. You’ll get used to it one of these days. A little time away will do you both some good. Don’t worry about the car. Just get us to my house, Bailey. I said it once, I’m saying it again. Don’t give our men a chance to ruin our plans.”
If she wanted anything faster than ten below the speed limit when it was snowing, she was wrong and I wasn’t going to listen to her bitch about it. Arrive alive was my motto when it came to driving, and she’d just have to cope with it.
Quinn
What could go wrong did go wrong, and for a rare change, Bailey had nothing to do with it. My cousin did. Murdering the asshole would land me in trouble with my family, but would anyone really blame me? He needed to return to Jersey where he belonged and stay out of my jurisdiction.
More importantly, he needed to stay the hell away from my wife.
“You can’t petrify him,” Perkins reminded me. “You’d have to transform in public to do that.”
Why had I spilled my dirty shapeshifting secret to Perkins?
Ah, right. I had done it so I wouldn’t scare the life out of him if I needed to shift while on duty.
One day, it would happen. When it did, it would create the kind of mess that might get me fired.
Humans didn’t like when the other species got too high up in the pecking order, and in reality, I was only human on paper.
I growled and wished I could shift just so I could lash my tail and hiss properly. “He’s deep in the park. I can get away with it.”
“No, Sam. I know you’re still cranky he picked a fight with Bailey, but you’re on official police business.
Honestly, I usually wouldn’t care, but I don’t feel like getting caught in the crossfire of two gorgons duking it out today.
Just think about it this way: we get three weeks of paid time off at Christmas. ”
I fully intended on enjoying Christmas with Bailey. “He wanted to pick her as his bride.”
“I know. He ultimately picked a fight. Let it go. Anyway, you’re so tightly bound to her thanks to your heritage you don’t even need your magical ball and chain. No one else has a chance with her. Focus on that.”
Logically, I knew he was right. Unfortunately, my demonic side felt a need to claim territory daily, my angelic side endured almost as many anxiety attacks as Bailey did on a bad day, and my gorgon side wanted to make a big family for me to coddle.
Add in the rest of my questionable genetics, and it was no wonder Bailey woke up a tired mess in the morning. I’d never get enough of her.
I needed to work on that.
“Quinn, you’re growling a little too much there.”
I grunted, stopped growling, and curbed my desire to hiss at my partner out of spite. “I’m worried. Bailey was acting weird this morning. I was hoping to skip home over lunch to check on her. Instead, I’m headed into Central Park to scold my cousin for scaring the humans.”
“Be grateful he hasn’t petrified anyone yet. We could be done here in twenty minutes.”
“But not in time for us to skip home and check on our ladies,” I complained.
“You’re being almost as absurd as Bailey. She’s working. Let the woman work in peace. I know you’re worried, but she can take care of herself most of the time.”
“It’s the rest of the time I’m worried about,” I replied.
“While your concern is justified, she’s been careful to stay out of trouble lately.
She’s even doing better on the self-esteem front, too.
Think about it this way: she’s made it clear you’re her one and only.
Don’t worry so much. Frankly, I’m thinking I might get you both some counseling for Christmas.
You’re both suffering from extreme insecurities. ”
“I trust Bailey. It’s everyone else driving Bailey batty I’m worried about.” I shrugged and kept trudging across the park to where the calls claimed my cousin was making a menace of himself. “It’s been quiet. Too quiet. When it gets too quiet, something bad happens to Bailey.”
“Can we just get through this so we can get back to the station? I’m freezing my ass off. It’s snowing.”
“And why are you in a mood today, Perkins?”
“My wife will be less than pleased to learn I’m being reassigned. She hates when I get a new partner. I become an insufferable asshole for weeks.”
“I’m pairing you with Nilman, unless you have a problem with that idea.”
“I can live with that arrangement. Where will you put Cotsman?”
“I’m moving him into the domestic violence division. He wants to diversify, and with a kid on the way, he’s motivated.” As delaying wouldn’t help matters for me, I picked up the pace, and Perkins matched my stride. “Thoughts?”
“Are we going to be backing you in the field?”
“Bailey likes you both, and it’ll help ease her into her new position, so yes.”
“This is going to be a disaster,” he predicted.
While I agreed, I did believe Bailey would thrive working with me in the field.
She had a lot of learning ahead of her, but she deserved to be more than a cleaner for the CDC.
She’d still have to tackle the nasty jobs, but she’d enjoy a better base pay per incident and the hazard bonuses contractors didn’t usually receive.
She wouldn’t get any more excessive payouts like the one that had rocketed her straight into being a millionaire, but she’d be a lot happier.
I just needed to convince her that she could handle the job, somehow get her registered to take the critical police academy courses, and teach her how to be a cop in less than two months.
I needed to ask my grandfather for a miracle, as I worried one would be needed to prepare her on such short notice.
As reported, my cousin loitered in the heart of Central Park. “Darrel.”
“I’ve got some intel for you. There’s a New Jersey hive after your bride.”
The world froze around me as the implication of his announcement sank in. I tensed, and I fought against the various facets of my genetics joining forces for the same cause: to protect what was ours.
Shifting would give me better weapons to accomplish that, but I resisted the desire to change shapes. “Who and why?”
I flexed my hands and clacked my teeth together.
“The Dover main hive needs a surrogate. A former police recruit, some idiot named John Winfield, tipped the male off about her immunities. They didn’t research her much before putting in an offer, and they certainly didn’t do any research on you.
They have no idea they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.
From what I can tell, they believe she’s an easy grab.
I’m not sure why they believe they can coerce her into being their hive’s surrogate, however. Perhaps the male was raised by humans?”
It happened. Gorgon whelps sold for a fortune on the black market, and once they reached adulthood, some escaped and formed hives without understanding the intricacies of being a gorgon.
I remembered John Winfield, and the mention of the former cadet’s name added to my irritation.
“John Winfield was removed from the force following the 120 Wall Street incident due to behavior inappropriate for a police officer.” I considered the rest of my cousin’s statement.
“Our marriage isn’t exactly common knowledge.
I didn’t make a formal announcement, and Bailey isn’t secure enough to be the one doing the announcing.
She’s still deciding if she wants a formal wedding. ”
Perkins scratched his head and sighed, shaking his head. “Your marriage may not be general knowledge for the public, but everyone in law enforcement is aware,” Perkins corrected.
My day was looking a lot grimmer—and a great deal more annoying—than it had even ten minutes ago. “When did Dover’s hive decide to stoop to kidnapping Bailey?”
My cousin shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, but it’s pretty obvious that former recruit is out for revenge. Selling your bride out to a hive is foolish at best, but the hive’s desperate and she’s immune.”
I tried to imagine what Bailey might do to an entire hive given ten minutes and a hit of transformatives.
No, I needed to stop the hive before Bailey found out about the situation.
She would wipe out all but the young and wallow in guilt over it for years, and she’d terrify a few years off my life in the process. “That poor hive. Are there any young?”
“Two whelps, a boy and a girl. Same hatching,” my cousin replied. “Why?”
“Bailey’s itching for a fight. If she finds out that hive wants to take her, it’ll be a bloodbath—theirs. Once she’s done killing the adults, she’ll want to adopt the whelps.”
“They do have the boy. If you start a hive, he’ll make for a good trade.”