Page 18 of The Flame Game

“You shouldn’t shake that one. It’s heavy plus you might break it.”

“Do you read minds now?”

“No, I just know that look in your eyes. That’s the look of a naughty little cindercorn about to destroy something.”

Busted yet again. Without any reason to delay, I tore into the paper to discover two laptop boxes stacked on top of each other, taped together to give the illusion they were a single package. Neither had their original shrink wrap, and upon investigation, I discovered he’d marked one as for home and one as for work. “I’m still going to use yours because I can,” I warned him.

“I bought your personal one aware that would likely be the case. However, you’ll be able to play games on it with me now, rather than sigh sadly when I’m playing a game and you want to play, too.”

Damn. At the rate he was busting me, I’d have to find a pair of handcuffs so he could handle the matter properly. “I can’t help but notice one is labeled for work.”

The laptop reminded me I had a bunch of pictures to sort through to see if I could remember why I’d recognized the man in the crowd or what I might have done to annoy him.

“We still have a few days before the kids are back, and now that you’ve surrendered, I thought we’d try to get a head start on teaching you what you need to know and investigate Morrison. To the limited degree we can. I’ll teach you our systems, go over the rules and regs, and I’ll set you loose on the budget. It could use your magical touch.”

“Isn’t the budget for the year already set?”

“Yes and no. We can make adjustments if we need to, but the commissioner will need to get it approved, then it’ll have to pass through the city government, and depending on the budget issue, it might get bounced up to the state level. This year’s was particularly bad. We took a lot of cuts, but we’re supposed to be doing more work. We do have authorization to do program fundraisers, but we haven’t figured out how to pitch it to the commissioner, who has to get the final approval for the specifics. Some things we’re not allowed to do fundraising for, like our staff budget. However, we can do fundraising for new K-9s, domestic violence support programs, animal rescues when animal control is overwhelmed, and community outreach. We need to do a lot of PR; while our precinct is generally okay, mismanagement and poor training has been an issue. Holding our precinct at a higher standard only does so much good. But that’s what the commissioner wants, especially after Morrison’s less-than-legal activities.”

“Have you been sneaking in work, Mr. Samuel Leviticus Quinn?”

He grinned at me. “I’m an incubus. I don’t need nearly as much sleep as you do, especially after spending hours making you happy. As I wanted to make sure you were getting enough sleep, I worked when I wasn’t cuddling with you. I set your work laptop up while you were asleep, and I mostly set your home one up, installed some games, and otherwise got it ready for you to customize to your preferences. I got laptops for the children, although they’re heavily restricted, they’ll only be able to access the internet when we’re supervising them, and they’re meant for education purposes. My grandfather has been helping me set up a schooling plan for them. They’re far more advanced than most gorgon whelps at their age, but they’re behind on some of the basic survival techniques. That’s part of why my grandfather has them for another few days—possibly up to a month. We need them able to defend themselves and have better control of their abilities. Beauty is a biter, and Sylvester will reflexively petrify, although it’s tiring for him. My grandfather is concerned that the circumstances of their birth has damaged their development.”

“And their rabies treatment?” I scowled at the thought of what had brought the pair of gorgon whelps into our lives. If I got a hold of whomever was responsible for attempting to weaponize rabies, I’d bring them to justice one way or another. With my track record, justice would involve a quick death during some brawl or another, but I could handle that.

It beat leaving them out to hurt or kill others, and enough people—and animals—had perished already.

“That wouldn’t have helped matters any, and while their father paid out for a miracle before his death, there’s only so much an angel can do, and the angel would have only helped because of a perception of injustice.”

“The rabies infection would have been a part of an attempted murder,” I guessed.

“That’s my thought. They’re children, and any angel would have wanted to right that wrong.”

“But their mothers? What about them?”

“It’s miracle enough the whelps survived a round in a glass coffin, Bailey. Gorgons are magic. Everything about them is magical. Their mothers would have died in the coffins from that much exposure to neutralizer. I suspect part of the miracle was them surviving through treatment in the glass coffin. But they may have survived because of how they were born. I haven’t been brave enough to ask.”

I struggled to imagine Quinn being afraid of something like the answer to a question. “Why are you afraid to ask?”

“There are some gorgons who would risk cracking their children’s eggs if they think they can create another Beauty or Sylvester.”

I sucked in a breath. “That’s horrible. But why?”

“I suspect that may be why Audrey wanted you in the first place. To conduct experiments just like that. Your immunities would make you the perfect surrogate for that sort of thing. Had you been their mother, you wouldn’t have died bringing them into the world—and the other child may have survived, too. I won’t be surprised if you are asked to carry a cracked egg in the hopes the shell would heal or the child might survive as a live birth.”

It never failed to amaze me how much gorgon society could amaze and repulse me at the same time. Worse, I couldn’t see myself saying no, especially in the case of a cracked egg where the whelp might survive. “How often does that happen?”

“Not often. Broken eggs usually kill the whelp immediately, and it’s rare an egg will crack without being fully broken. Beauty and Sylvester were likely banged together during conception and their eggs cracked but didn’t break until a few weeks later, when the eggs would have started to grow. The father would have known when he’d attempted to retrieve the eggs. That probably finished breaking their eggs. His bride must have loved him—and them—very much to have wanted to try to carry them to term. The human child was likely from superfetation—conceived after the whelps, usually by a matter of days or weeks. Human embryos wouldn’t be able to survive the rigors of petrification, and gorgon whelps are born able to petrify.”

“Thus the third child died along with their mother.”

“Right. A cracked egg happens every few years, and even then, one in ten might make it if the surrogate is willing to attempt a live birth. Cracked eggs rarely survive, so the surrogate willing to take the risk would have to be flown in immediately. Gorgon magic would allow the woman to carry the whelps to term, though—or for however long was necessary. It’s never really been tried before. Most gorgon fathers make the difficult decision to save their bride or surrogate.”

“But Beauty and Sylvester are proof it can happen.”

“That’s right. Their mother must have fought hard to try to bring them to term. Most gorgon males just won’t risk losing their bride. The brides are often the heart and soul of a hive, and losing her hurts the whole hive.”

“If the bride has a cracked egg, won’t she get upset if somebody else takes over being the surrogate?”