Page 39 of The Flame Game

I took my phone and pulled up a picture of my mother. “Her?”

Valorie huffed. “Looks like her to me.”

I stomped through the snow to Chief Barfield. “It’s a case of the asshole parents trying to make my life miserable yet again. My mother was driving the car while he was trying to torch the house. And since they’ll lie their asses off, I’ll just request an angel now to verify their guilt, just in case there was some practitioner up to some pretty bad tricks. I can email you information on them, once my roses are taken care of.”

The chief chuckled. “I can tell where your priorities are. Still, until we bring them in, it’s not going to be safe here.”

“We were just swinging by for some things before resuming our vacation,” I admitted.

“That will work nicely. Check in with us daily. Normally, I wouldn’t ask such a thing for a pair on vacation, but Dowry is concerned for your safety.”

Wrinkling my nose at the added complexity, I thought about it for a few moments before nodding. “Sure. We can do that. Just let you know if there’s anything weird and call if we find anything amiss?”

“Exactly so. Dowry will want you to check in with him, too, but since you live in my jurisdiction, I’d like you to keep in touch with me, too.”

“Sure, I can text you both or call as needed.” My husband came out of the house, and I spotted several large ceramic pots in the entry. “He’s being excessive again.”

“He is so good at being excessive,” Valorie commented. “When it comes to you, he takes the little things to extremes.”

“He really does. He looks really good in that jacket.”

“And that’s my cue to go warm up in my house while you admire your scenery. Send over some hot cops to question me,” she ordered before heading home.

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh until she disappeared into her house. “Did you hear that, Chief Barfield? Send over some hot cops to question her.”

“I’m not sure I have any sufficiently hot older cops capable of withstanding her wily ways.”

“Sacrifice one that deserves a good woman before the Devil starts sending his minions over to seduce her. He really will, too.”

“I might have an older gentleman who has been a widower for a while, and I’ll send some of the young, fit men to learn how to question a friendly old woman.” The chief snickered. “You’re going to turn Manhattan upside down.”

“I really will.” Aware I would fall on my ass again if I got anywhere near the icy sidewalk, I trudged through the snow and observed my husband, his uncle, and his grandfather conferring over the roses. To my shock, Sariel manifested a shining sword out of the air and eyed the ground. “Don’t kill my roses! Swords are for stabbing. Don’t stab them, they’re already having a bad day.”

All three shot glares at me, and I stomped my foot. “No traumatizing my roses.”

The archangel sighed, flicked his wrist, and turned his glowing sword into a shovel. “I’m not going to stab them, my little granddaughter.”

“That poor sword is going to file for its retirement or put in a request for a new owner.”

“It’s a sword, not a living thing,” Sariel stated before going to work digging up the abused rose plant. Once freed from the ground, he handed it over to the Devil. “He will whine sufficiently less should you be the one abusing your holy fire.”

More fire? I crossed my arms over my chest and kept a close eye on my uncle.

“Your cindercorn is positively cranky this morning,” the Devil said, taking the rose bush and walking to the house, completely ignoring the ice. The ground steamed in his wake, and I realized he cheated, melting it so he wouldn’t slip and slide.

“What did Chief Barfield have to say?” Quinn asked, examining the gaping hole where the rose bush had been. “Can I hire you to be my gardener, Grandfather? That would have taken me an hour to dig out.”

“No. I’m only doing this because my little granddaughter would cry if her roses couldn’t be saved.”

“Her roses?”

“She loves them more than you do, so they are hers, and you just get to enjoy them, too.”

Hah. I slated that as my victory, and I pointed at the Devil, who worked at putting my poor plant in one of the pots. “And that one is my favorite.”

“The roses will be fine, Bailey.”

“I showed pictures to Valorie. Of my asshole parents. She thinks it was them. I already told Chief Barfield to request an angel for verification when they’re brought in for questioning. Practitioners could trick people with their likeness, and I’d rather have the truth than jump to conclusions. But, let’s face it. My asshole parents would do just that. Maybe we should ask the uncle over there about adding some extras to their future accommodations.”