Page 109 of Playing with Fire

Demon chickens weren’t supposed to be so damned adorable. “I want to keep them,” I whispered.

“Pick up the baby nuclear bombs so we can find the dust and get rid of it. Little Samuel would not be pleased if I allowed you to bring the baby nuclear bombs home with you. There are limits, and I’m pretty sure this goes beyond the permissible.”

I gathered the birds and their blankets, tucking them into the crook of my arm. They weren’t much bigger than baseballs, and they radiated a soothing warmth. “Won’t the dust petrify them?”

“Bailey, they’re immortal. You gave them enough ambrosia in one of those little capsules for them to take on a god and possibly win. They’ll be fine. That said, no, you may not take them home with you.

The black of the phoenixes’ eyes paled to a vibrant sky blue. They chirped, and wiggling in my hold, they rubbed their beaks against my arm, scratching hard enough to break the skin.

I bled, and my blood gave off a faint golden luminescence.

“But they’re so cute.”

“Are we looking at—” Quinn’s grandfather blinked. “Oh. Little Samuel must be nearby.”

“What? Really? He is? How do you know?” I could worry about the glowing blood problem later. I needed Quinn. Surely I could talk Quinn into taking the phoenixes home. Someone had to feed them and care for them.

“Bailey, those two birds are uglier than sin. They’ll be gorgeous when they molt, but right now? They’re pretty hideous, and that says a lot coming from a gorgon.”

I cuddled the birds closer. “They are not!”

“Bailey, you have approximately six minutes before they grow up, torch the hive, and probably eat us before flying off to nest somewhere.”

“They—” The little bastards pecked my arm. “Hey!”

My grandfather-in-law chuckled. “Six minutes, Bailey.”

They pecked me again, and then they licked my blood. “You’re probably right.”

“Good girl. Take a deep breath. We need to find the dust, then you need to nicely ask those two phoenixes if they’ll take care of it for us. Then you can take your husband to the nearest hotel and get some rest.”

Why did I need to take a deep breath? I frowned.

“The dust, Bailey.”

Dust? Oh, the gorgon dust. Where was it? I chewed on my lip, staring around the entry. “It’s too dark.”

The phoenixes chirped, and golden light and warmth radiated from them.

Four walls, four corners, four doors, but no dust. “Where’s the dust?”

“Find it.”

“Find it? But how?”

“Oh boy. Earth to Bailey.”

I shook my head. I hated gorgon dust. Why did I have to go find it again? A flash of pink drew my eye, and a streamer of sparkling light slipped through an open doorway. “I hate gorgon dust.”

“I know. Show us the way, then we can make it disappear.”

“Burn,” a little girl’s voice whispered in my ear, accompanied by the crackle of flame. “We burn it. We play with fire. Yes! We like playing with fire.”

Yes, I liked playing with fire, too. I remembered the rush, the feel of it washing over me, and its roar as it consumed everything around me.

“Burn,” a little boy’s voice agreed.

The birds chirped, and I cradled them closer to me.