10. I’m not giving this crap to you again.
TEN
I’m not giving this crap to you again.
Quinn
If given their way, the whelps would stay up all night reading.
I waited until I’d gotten Sunny settled before insisting the pair take a bath and get ready for bed.
The tiny pill Perkins had given me did a good job of numbing me to the reality of the situation, although I found I needed to concentrate to get through the basics.
I disliked how the medication made it difficult to focus on any one thing for more than a few minutes, but Perkins nudged me back in the right direction. Sunny helped, pawing at my leg when I stared off into the distance like an idiot without setting down her dish of food.
I got my act together enough to play a parent properly, confiscating the whelps’ e-readers and print books, stacking them on the computer desk and promising they would get them back in the morning.
If they were raised like most gorgon children, the stack of books and readers would remain undisturbed during the night.
The children engaged in a brief but fierce war over who got to bathe first, which Beauty won after a brief display of her cobras’ hoods and a few hisses. Perkins watched with interest, and I expected I’d get an earful later over the insanity of sharing a room with me, two gorgon whelps, and a wolf.
Finding a suite with three beds that would allow me to bring Sunny inside had been a challenge, but my rank and Sunny’s status as a training police dog helped.
As the master bedroom was easier to defend, the children shared the king-sized bed, leaving Perkins and me to share the second bedroom. At least it had a pair of double beds.
I drew the line at sharing a bed with him, something we’d both agreed on without discussion. If our wives found out we’d shared a bed, they’d never let us live it down. Bailey would spearhead the relentless chain of jokes, and as she loved discovering my limits, she’d recruit Tiffany to join in.
“I’m not giving this crap to you again unless you’re actively having a freak out,” Perkins announced, giving the prescription bottle a rattle. “Go to bed. I’ll make sure the kids are settled.”
I’d meant to protest, but the instant I flopped onto the closest bed, I clocked out. I woke to wolf breath, and Sunny pawed at my shoulder until I groaned and rolled over. Hitting the floor did a good job of restoring coherency, and I sighed.
Perkins snickered. “Good morning, Sam. The kids are still asleep, we have two hours until checkout, and if we can roll out within an hour, we can get some breakfast downstairs before we hit the road. Sunny would like you to take her for a walk. She’s already been fed.”
“She woke you?”
“No, I woke up naturally, which was a nice change. Get dressed and attend to your puppy duties. I’m going to get a shower. Then you can wake the kids up. I figure I’ll dodge potential petrification today.”
“Good idea. They might wake up confused.” I sighed.
Neither child would be able to petrify me, but in time, they might give even me trouble.
Unlike Perkins, I’d reverse petrification without any outside interference.
Stifling yawns, I trudged to the bathroom, got changed, and walked Bailey’s puppy.
My phone rang while the wolf sniffed around the thin stretch of woods separating the hotel from an office complex next door.
I checked the display, which showed an unknown number. I hated unknown numbers. While telemarketers were barred from calling the number and scammers had figured out it belonged to a law enforcement officer, too many pests could—and did—call me. “Chief Quinn speaking,” I answered.
“It’s been a while, Samuel,” a nasally voice greeted.
It took me a moment to recognize the man as the lead gorgon male from Orlando’s main hive.
“The word on the wire is that you’re challenging for a pair of whelps.
Congratulations in advance. Only a fool would challenge against you, and no sane whelp would reject a chance to be in your hive. ”
It was too early in the morning for posturing, and I considered chucking my phone at the nearest tree. “Good morning, Thomas. What can I do for you?”
“Several things. First, in light of what your grandfather sent yesterday, I’d like to report that my hive was approached about a lead on your bride. I have not rejected the offer, as I thought I’d give you a chance to deal with the human yourself.”
John Winfield again, I bet. After confirming no one watched me, I indulged in a low hiss. “Winfield?”
“Yes, that was his name. A rather insolent little human. I considered petrifying him as a risk to the general IQ of the entire Orlando area. I proposed a meeting for tomorrow to discuss his offer.”
“Petrify him, notify the CDC, and present all evidence of his attempt to traffic my wife,” I suggested. “And I will be pleased to offer you compensation for the work.”
“Rather than traditional monetary compensation, I thought I’d offer something potentially beneficial to both of us.”
Great. I’d have a rap sheet of gorgon-created sins so long Bailey would try to kill me herself when she got her hands on me. “What’s your offer?”
“As I’m aware you’re busy and don’t follow gorgon gossip, a smart move most days, if I do say so myself, I was blessed with a second son.
He’s seven, around the age of your new daughter.
I’d like to plan an introduction, and if you’re game, potentially arrange for you to foster him over the summer.
It’s time he learned to interact with other hives—and with humans—and your household would be an ideal place for him to adapt to human society.
Should your new daughter and my son form a friendship, I would be interested in making an offer for her. ”
Thomas was many things, but he toed the line well; the arrangement wouldn’t offend Bailey, would give Beauty a choice in the matter, and would help Thomas’s cause and potentially establish his second son as a contender for leading a strong hive.
“I’m not necessarily against this idea, especially as they’re close in age.
Do you have a daughter of the same whelping? ”
“I do. I had two daughters and one son that year.”
“While I need to discuss the issue with my bride and make arrangements with the NYPD, I’m open to discussing fostering all three of them over the summer. That will give Beauty and Sylvester a chance to socialize with other young gorgons. They were the hive’s only whelps.”
“Those poor whelps. Is the situation as serious as Archambault claims?”
“It’s probably worse,” I admitted. “If you haven’t vaccinated your hive, do so. As soon as you can. Also contact the CDC about a small stock of neutralizer. Vaccinations should protect you, but you may need to treat your bride.”
“I’ve scheduled us for the vaccinations today. I dislike it, but after hearing about the Dover hive’s fate, I would rather be treated like some animal than lose my bride and wives.”
“That’s my thought on the matter, too. If I could vaccinate, I would.
I’m too human to qualify.” I sighed at that, shaking my head.
“I’ve had my bride treated for rabies so many times now it’s a way of life here, but you’ll find the treatments for your bride annoying at best. Simplistic enough, but annoying.
Inquire with the CDC about training so you can administer it yourself. ”
“How has your bride contracted rabies so many times?”
“Dumpster diving to rescue stray animals.”
Thomas choked on his laughter. “Your bride is a jewel among women.”
“She is. If you can work on convincing hesitant hives to vaccinate, it would be appreciated. Seeing one hive wiped out is one too many.”
“Despite their interest in your bride?”
I wrinkled my nose at that. “I would have corrected the hive male with appropriate amounts of violence, and I would’ve left him alive if he showed remorse for interfering with my bride.
I wouldn’t like leaving him alive, of course, but I dislike orphaning children without good reason.
A hive without whelps would be a different matter. ”
It would have tested my restraint, but I would’ve left the hive male alive—barely.
“I appreciate your candor.”
I bet he did. “Let me know if you manage to catch Winfield. It’s best if I do not come to Florida personally.”
“Yes, it would not go over well if one of your former cadets happened to be petrified and crushed into a fine powder at your hands, no matter how strong of a case you would have in the human courts for the threat to your bride. We will handle this matter, and we will try to get information on any accomplices. I believe he has them.”
“Care to share why you think that?”
“He spoke in plural.”
That would do it. “It might not go amiss if you were to suggest to other hives if they’re willing to attempt to sell a bride off to another hive, their brides might be targeted next.”
Thomas chuckled. “You’re devious, Samuel.
I’ll do this just for the fun of watching our kind join forces for a rare change against humans who are too foolish to understand what they do.
And your thought is not amiss; I wondered the same, and I’ve asked my bride to stay close to the hive for the time being. I don’t like when my bride worries.”
It never failed to amaze me how strange gorgon society could be—or how loyal gorgons could be to their surrogates, who were as much the heart of the hive as the hive’s gorgon females.
I could never see eye-to-eye with my kin; I only had room for Bailey.
In some ways, however, few species had the sheer capacity of love as a gorgon despite the species’ inherent flaws.
“Thank you, Thomas. Call me when you have more information, and as soon as I’m certain my bride’s safety is secured, we’ll discuss fostering in the summer.”
“I look forward to it, as does my son. It will be his first time fostering outside of the hive.”