18. Bailey was a force of nature.
EIGHTEEN
Bailey was a force of nature.
Quinn
The exterior circuit of the dome revealed bedrooms enough for twenty females, which made it a strong enough hive to worry even me—or a collaboration of several hives. While males were often territorial, family units would stick together.
Had my father been born a gorgon rather than a human, he would’ve shared territory with my grandfather. Had I been born a gorgon rather than human, I would’ve shared territory with both of them.
It would’ve been glorious chaos.
My grandfather, at last check, had one bride, sixteen wives, and more children than I could readily count or remember. While my father wasn’t a gorgon, he competed with the rest of the family in terms of number of children.
My mother refused to share my father, and not even gorgons were willing to cross her.
I needed to introduce Bailey to my sisters. All fourteen of them. I also needed to warn Bailey that my mother didn’t seem ready to slow down having kids quite yet despite her age. I blamed my grandparents for that.
The children of triads found some way to break the rules, and my mother seemed to view aging as optional.
With the outer ring of the dome explored, that left us with four hallways leading deeper into the complex.
After not-so-careful consideration, I picked the hallway farthest from where we’d broken into the place.
While tempted to torch the bedding in the offices to smoke anyone out, I couldn’t afford to light any fires until we made certain Janet was safe.
If the situation allowed, I would also make sure Bailey didn’t fulfill any damned prophecies involving her taking a trip to another plane because she went loco without the benefit of a napalm bender.
I couldn’t figure out what might cause her to lose control of her magic, but if I could avoid it, I would.
Even with the Devil’s precautions and magic, I prayed I wouldn’t have to serve as a conduit. As was often the nature of prayer, it would be futile, but I did it anyway. He worked in mysterious ways, and I didn’t ask for much.
Though, when I thought about it, I found myself praying a hell of a lot more than normal when Bailey was involved. Could anyone blame me?
My beautiful Bailey was a force of nature.
And the daughter of the divine.
I didn’t look forward to that conversation.
“Oh! Big mine room,” Bailey whispered, trotting ahead to peer over a railing, which was illuminated with a dim overhead light, barely enough to see by. “Ew. That gross.”
When Bailey found something to be gross, I worried. I trotted to her and peered over the steel railing.
When gorgons died, most hives petrified their lost loved ones and buried them in stone walls to make sure their bodies weren’t used to create gorgon dust or other potent substances. Either the males had died, too, or they’d lost their bloody minds.
They’d left the deceased gorgon females to rot on the concrete floor.
“That awful,” Bailey said, and her coat steamed.
Shit. Bailey wouldn’t need napalm or anything spurring her on to start the kind of fire that would rival the one she’d ignited at 120 Wall Street
Her temper already burned hot enough to light her fur on fire.
“Yes,” I agreed, sighing at the inevitable work I’d have to do to help lay the women to rest and prevent their bodies from being used to manufacture gorgon dust.
Bailey lifted a hoof. “A young one. Child. Whelp.” Bailey’s fur blazed, and a golden glow filled the central part of the dome. “They killed a child.”
Yep. Bailey was t-minus five seconds from a meltdown, and I’d be very appreciative of the Devil making certain she wouldn’t incinerate me by the time she finished rampaging.
Snakes hissed, drawing my attention to the curved wall below. A male with black snakes stood, looking up at us. Not far away, I spotted the gray stone of a petrified human.
Janet.
“You’re not supposed to be here!” John Winfield announced, stepping out of the shadows. I remembered his voice from 120 Wall Street. “You bitch.”
I dug my claws into the tiles, and they broke.
In the months we’d been married, Bailey had made so much progress, but some things never changed. The instant the word ‘bitch’ left Winfield’s mouth, she snapped. With no care we were on the second story, Bailey jumped, and the entire building shook from the force of her landing on the floor below.
I recognized her pawing at the floor as her preparing for a charge, the kind that would end Winfield’s life the instant her flaming bulk crashed into him. She’d probably crush a hole through the wall behind him while she was at it. Then she’d light the whole building on fire.
I needed to get the neutralizer away from her before she took her temper out on Winfield. I followed, landing with a pained grunt. I grabbed the leather band securing the neutralizer bag and tugged. I gave up after the second tug and gnawed through the material.
John Winfield pulled out a dart gun, and I recognized the glowing golden fluid inside the clear shaft as ambrosia. “See this, bitch? This is what revenge looks like.”
I tensed, and my eyes widened. Most people wisely believed ambrosia was a good way to die with a bang—a very destructive bang. In my case—and Bailey’s case—things could go wrong in entirely different ways.
I found it ironic the Devil had made me into a conduit for Bailey and that ambrosia could turn us into conduits for any divine with an interest in paying the mortal coil a visit.
“Stupid,” Bailey announced, and she tossed her head. “All this because you stupid? You kid-nap cop? Are you mad?”
“Shut up, bitch. I haven’t killed the cop yet.
She deserves it for siding with you, though.
I didn’t think there were two of you, though.
I’d heard you could find anything. I guess they were right.
I would’ve preferred selling you into slavery.
That would’ve been a lot more profit for me on top of a hefty dose of revenge. ”
“You idiot,” my wife announced.
I loved my wife, but I really wished she would stop antagonizing crazy people. If I opened my mouth, Winfield might recognize my voice, and I wasn’t sure how he’d react to that. While I could petrify him, I wouldn’t be able to petrify him fast enough to prevent him from shooting his dart.
“Petrify the large unicorn,” Winfield ordered.
The gorgon male sighed and focused his attention on me. The tingle I associated with an attempted petrification swept over me, far too weak to do anything to me. I flattened my ears, lowered my head, and set the bag of neutralizer on the ground.
All right. If the gorgon wanted to play, I’d play.
The Devil hadn’t said I couldn’t transform after finding my wife.
And if, for whatever reason, I needed to be a cindercorn to serve as a conduit for Bailey, I could contact Perkins and get Sunny’s help.
I dug my claws into the concrete floor and snorted flame.
Then I embraced my true nature. Heat washed over me, and fire sheathed me before my body contorted, transforming from unicorn to gorgon.
“In-cu-bus gor-gon doo-hickey!” my wife squealed.
John Winfield’s mouth dropped open.
The gorgon male’s snakes reared back and hissed. “You.”
The flames sheathed me much as they had with the Devil in his hell, and while I found fire disconcerting to wear as clothes, Bailey hated when anyone other than her could admire my physique.
I stretched my wings and rolled my shoulders.
My snakes, save for Bailey’s beloved Francisco, hissed at the rival gorgon male.
Francisco wanted his owed attention, and Bailey stretched her head to nuzzle the scarlet hooded cobra.
I really needed to teach Francisco he needed to wait for cuddles when I had a gorgon male to deal with.
“What the fuck are you?” John Winfield demanded, and he pointed the dart gun at me.
Bailey’s body erupted into flame and she charged towards the former cadet. “No! Bad.”
Everything made sense, and as the inevitable loomed, I lifted my hand, pinched the bridge of my nose, and sighed.
Of course. At the first sign of trouble pointed in my direction, Bailey would be Bailey.
She’d dive headlong into danger and get herself shot with a huge ampoule of ambrosia, something that would kill most people.
Fortunately for me and my blood pressure, Bailey wasn’t most people.
The concussive bang of the gun discharging confirmed my fears, but the cadet hadn’t fired in time; once Bailey decided to do something, she did it. A moment later, six hundred plus pounds of unicorn crashed into the former cadet, and she, as expected, plowed right into the wall.
I grimaced at the wet crunch.
Then I turned my attention to the rival male. “You have a choice, gorgon. Surrender to the Quinn family or join your women in death.”
I thought I was being generous. The gorgon disagreed. He turned towards Janet, and his movement drew Bailey’s attention. Golden flames burst off her coat until she resembled the flaring surface of the sun.
“No,” she said, and her voice hissed and crackled from flame. She dipped her head, grabbed the end of the dart that had embedded in her chest, and tossed it aside.
The glass cracked, but it didn’t matter. It had emptied into my wife.
I regretted I didn’t have my prescription chill pills with me. I’d need them in a few minutes.
The gorgon recoiled, and his eyes widened. “What are you?”
“Your worst night-mare,” Bailey replied, taking a step towards the gorgon. “You take Janet with that thing.”
I leaned to the side to get a look at the fallen human. Upon closer inspection, ‘thing’ was an apt description. His body hadn’t handled the impact of six hundred plus pounds of angry flaming unicorn all that well.
Gross.
“That was the deal. I petrified and transported the woman, and he will rebuild my hive. He has a lead on a good breeder.”
Bailey snorted flame, and her glow intensified. “Die, rapist asshole.”