The Flame Game (Magical Romantic Comedies #12) - R.J. Blain Page 0,3
you brawl a little with that gorgon you keep wanting to pick a fight with. You can thank the angels in the front row. They suggested it would be good for your little ones to be exposed to all forms of your magic early, including shapeshifting.”
“Does everybody know?” I whispered.
“Yes.” Janet pointed at the front row, where the Devil sat with his brothers, chatting while waiting for us to get out of the way so everyone could follow us to dinner. “It’s his fault.”
Technically, being pregnant with twins was the Devil’s fault, along with some help from his winged menaces of brothers. While Quinn took steps to prevent our family from growing unexpectedly, his incubus powers didn’t stand a chance against his divine relatives. “That is true. Quinn, we should get revenge on him. Perhaps as unicorns, after we have some napalm.”
Janet grinned. “And this is where Tiffany gets to give you a present!”
I gave Perkette my undivided attention. “I deserve a present, especially as you made me leave my precious puppies and kitten upstairs rather than being part of the wedding party.”
In reality, we’d left them upstairs in the care of an angel, as the sheer number of people present would scare them. While Blizzard handled crowds well, the husky puppy became excessively energetic, and while Avalanche was remarkably chill for an ocelot, they’d be happier playing with their toys in our suite. Sunny had been invited, as she had more than a touch of the divine influencing her, but it hadn’t seemed fair to include her but exclude the other two beasts.
I already missed my furry babies.
Perkette giggled, and she spun around, showing off the dress the Devil’s wife had acquired for her. The woman, a snow leopard shapeshifter of some sort, sat with her husband and seemed like the adult of that relationship. “You get to have a cup of napalm a week while a unicorn, and once a month, you get an entire bucket for your enjoyment. I have the documentation for it. We put it together earlier today with some help from the Devil, his wife, and his brothers.”
I freed myself from Quinn’s grip and doubled back to the front row, and as the Devil and his brothers were all conveniently located together, I flung myself at the quartet and indulged in a group hug. The Devil’s wife dodged my affection, although she caught my veil before it could be ripped off my head or otherwise cause me trouble. Behind me, my husband laughed.
“You fucking assholes are the best!”
Quinn’s angelic grandfather chuckled. “While I am most pleased to take some of the credit, my brother is the one who has done the research. He will also, with some help from your father, teach you how to better control your shapeshifting abilities. Your little ones need exposure to all of your magic, so outside of a ban from alcohol and too much sugar, you will find the next few months of your life disturbingly enjoyable when your offspring are not doing their best to kick you in the ribs. Cindercorns have an easier time with pregnancy than human women.”
Uh oh. I saved myself from exposing the surprise by not looking at Perkette, who would be dealing with quadruplets after having been barren her entire life. “You’re about to tell me I’m not human, aren’t you?”
“You are sufficiently human for your new job’s needs,” the archangel assured me.
I grabbed Sariel’s hand, kissed the back of, and repeated the process with the other archangels before planting a kiss on the Devil’s cheek. The Devil’s wife laughed and warded me off before shooing me away. I bounced back to my husband. “I get napalm, Quinn!”
He caught me in a hug and kissed my forehead. “Heaven forbid you are forced to suffer without any napalm. There’s going to be a catch. There’s always a catch when it comes to you and your favorite fiery treat. You should find out what the catch is now to limit your disappointment later.”
As Perkette would do something like dangle a treat in front of me and then make me pay for it in some horrendous fashion, I asked, “What’s the catch?”
“You have to exercise,” the mad scientist replied. “You’ll probably survive, and the exercise will be good for the babies.”
I would remember that when she was waddling around, thanks to her four incoming children. “I’ll try to limit my whining somewhat. That is a catch I can live with.”