Page 81 of The Flame Game

I flinched, as humans often did devalue victims—or worse, blamed them. “Humans can really suck.”

“We can, yes. The only thing greater than a human’s capacity for good is their capacity for evil. I learned to accept that long ago, however frustrating that reality is.”

I considered my phone. “My mother was working at an animal shelter, Sam.”

“Your mother is a guardian divine associated with the moon. She probably can’t help herself. She probably climbs into dumpsters for rabid animals, too.”

“I’ll do it again!”

“I know you will.”

“Will we ever be good enough, Quinn?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll do the best we can. We’ll make that good enough.”

After settling our pets in our room, Quinn took me to a seafood paradise. To my amusement, his prayers for steak went unanswered. He regarded the menu with a perplexed expression.

“Sam, are you allergic to seafood? Did I make you take me to somewhere that might kill you?”

Before I could panic, my husband laughed and shook his head. “No. Not at all. I’m not allergic to anything that I know of. It’s the angelic genes. They tend to keep those with more than their fair share of angelic genetics from developing most allergies. Add in my gorgon heritage, and I’m pretty sure I could eat almost anything.”

“Okay. Let me rephrase that. Have you ever had seafood before?”

“Not precisely.” The skepticism in his voice made me giggle, and he glared at me over his menu. “My mother likes having fish as pets. I can’t just eat the family pets. And none of my gorgon relatives like seafood. Some hives live for it, but the Quinns prefer land-based fare. And once I lived on my own, I just couldn’t understand spending that much on sea bugs.”

I giggled. “Sea bugs are delicious. Okay. Let’s find you something you’ll like.” After a moment of looking at the salad section, I found one that would be close to his comfort zone. I took hold of his menu, tilted it so I could look over it, and pointed at the seared tuna salad. “This will be a good starter for you. Salad, a kind you like, and you’ll have some fish to start with. It’s seared, so it looked at some heat, and you can get a feel for if you’ll like sushi or not.”

“I’m man enough to admit I’m scared.”

My phone buzzed on the table, and according to the screen, my mother had remembered to call me back. I snatched the device, and aware I was in a restaurant and couldn’t be rude to the other guests, I answered, “Did the taming of the hungry beasts go well?”

“Everybody has been fed, watered, and cuddled,” my mother reported. “Is everything okay?”

“It seems my husband’s upbringing had a dire lack of seafood in it, so I’m rectifying the situation through making him try various sea bugs. I’m starting him on training wheels with some tuna on a salad, and he will enjoy some proper clam chowder with me. After the clam chowder, I think I’m going to get this big platter for two, so he has the most choice of sea bugs to try. He claims he’s man enough to admit the strange new food scares him.”

“Ah, yes. Don’t blame him much. Gorgons are particular with their diets, and one of the brides in his family line was likely allergic to seafood once upon a time, and the entire hive will avoid the food the brides are allergic to. You don’t have to worry about allergies with him, so feed him whatever you’d like. Your father and I have been learning things like that so we know what’s safe to feed you both.”

I had a mother who cared what I could eat, and I had a mother who wanted to burn my house down along with my poor rose bushes. It would take a long time to come to terms with the vast differences between my mothers—and my fathers were in two entirely different universes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to talk to you before.”

“You were asleep, and I do quite enjoy talking to your Sam. He’s quite the gentleman.”

“He really is. His expression is really cute. The menu is baffling him.”

“There’s really no steak anywhere on this menu,” he whined.

“The lack of steak is disturbing to him.”

My mother laughed. “I bet it is. I spoke to your father this morning, and as he was aware you would be busy with important matters this morning, he suggests you should look into that woman’s activities in Maine before you head to Long Lake. That will be an efficient way of handling the matter. He would prefer to just smite all that might be a threat to you, but that is not allowed. He is also working on a present for you, one he thinks you will enjoy.”

“A present? What sort of present?”

“The kind where he meddles more than he should and decides to interfere when he shouldn’t. I tried to talk sense into him, but he claims if all it takes is some random human telling an idiot you’re going to be somewhere at a certain time to put an end to this mess, he sees no reason why not to pay some random human to talk to the idiot and make those arrangements. By the way, do make sure you’re in Long Lake by noon the day after tomorrow. That would fall nicely into your father’s manipulations.”

“There are so many idiots, Mother. Which idiot are we discussing?”

My mother was quiet for a long moment. “That is going to take some getting used to.”

Oh. Right. I had a mother I actually wanted to call my mother, and I’d just gone and addressed her as such without thinking about it. Oops. “To being called Mother?”