Page 119 of Playing with Fire

“What will happen to the eggs?”

“The Rockwell family will be offered a chance to fight first for the eggs. While you will help beat them as is proper, it will be understood if their determination is strong enough, the eggs will remain with their clan. I know Ozmose’s father well, and he will fight hard to protect the whelps of his whelp.”

We left the incubi and the succubus for last after clearing everyone out of the area. Since I had the most luck with escaping their influence, I got the job of hosing them down with neutralizer and hightailing it out of the area.

Leaving them a note, a charged cell phone, and instructions to call for a pickup once they were in full control of themselves seemed a little rude in my opinion. However, even with all the precautions I took, they managed to influence me before I made it back to the truck.

The way Quinn smirked at me warned me he knew it, too, and would enjoy himself a great deal later. I feigned anger, but he saw right through me.

At least holding the five gorgon eggs kept me distracted and busy while Quinn kept the young whelp entertained in the backseat. She wore the shreds of Quinn’s shirt as a blindfold and scarf to keep from petrifying anyone.

All in all, she handled it a lot better than I expected, spending most of the ride back to civilization giggling and laughing at Quinn’s antics.

Quinn’s grandmother met us at the police station. She claimed the eggs from me, cradled them in one hand near her chest, and snagged his grandfather by a handful of his snakes and dragged him off.

I really didn’t want to know why my grandfather-in-law grinned like a maniac on a sugar high.

The next couple of hours tested my patience, and I cursed the CDC and the police in equal measure. I snarled at every single delay, gnashing my teeth together so I wouldn’t say something I’d regret later.

When we finally escaped the break room, which had been functioning as an interrogation room, I grabbed Quinn’s hand and dragged him to the nearest bathroom. “You, me, and a bed. Now. I’ll accept a hallway, or the wall, or I’m sure we could make use of a bathroom stall if necessary…”

With a gleam in his eye, Quinn pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Hey, old man. I’m taking my wife to a hotel now. She’s tired, she’s cranky, and we’ve both had a long day. Can you get those pesky CDC agents and the Vermont State Police off our backs for a while? Just tell them I kidnapped her and we’re going on our honeymoon. If they really need to know how many feathers each phoenix had, they can ask us when we return to New York.”

I had forgotten Quinn had been planning something for a honeymoon. Would he accept a delay for the nearest hotel room?

Stupid incubi. Stupid incubi realizing they were in the same room with a succubus.

Quinn hung up. “Can you survive thirty minutes?”

“If I have to.”

“Got everything you need?”

I nodded.

With a grin, he pulled me in the direction of the staircase. “Let’s bail before the cops catch us.”

I laughed. “You’re such a bad cop.”

Vermont sucked.

While there were hotels near the police station, none of them met Quinn’s standards, and we had to drive thirty minutes to find one he could live with. He wanted a room with a jacuzzi, which was unavailable. I swore if he delayed my shower any longer, he’d die a slow and painful death.

I won.

While I meant to do a lot of things to and with Quinn, hot water, relaxing in the tub plenty big for two, and sedative equalled an instant nap. I didn’t mind, especially when Quinn woke me with gentle kisses, which led to far better things.

Later, after I made myself comfortable using his shoulder for a pillow, I murmured, “I’m still mad you ran off without me.”

“Yet you still managed to show up and scare a few years off my life. Really, Bailey? Phoenixes? Since one wasn’t bad enough, you had to go and wake two of them. Next time, I hope the CDC rethinks their tactics and just gives you the napalm. It’d be safer.”

I giggled. “If you think that’s bad, wait until you find out my vanilla human ranking is being revoked. If surviving ambrosia contamination wasn’t sufficient, my new magic rating will bump me off the list.”

“So what is your trick?”

“Wayfinder, apparently.”

Quinn didn’t seem impressed. “So?”