The Flame Game (Magical Romantic Comedies #12) - R.J. Blain Page 0,78
the back,” Quinn requested.
I obeyed, discovering handwritten notes about disease progression, eating habits of several test subjects, and some cryptic notes involving months and days but no years listed. “This very weird, Queeny.”
“It is. Check for anymore papers. The CDC is getting nervous, and they want to get onto the napalm portion of your day.”
“They no hurt statues?”
“The statues close to the building have been safely moved, and an angel has arrived to assist. I fear we’ve been sent an archangel that’s not my grandfather, and the archangel is rather miffed. It turns out archangels have zero problems with picking up statues and moving them to a safe location. Without magic. Everyone has been thoroughly intimidated. He’s seen the gorgon, and she’s been moved a safe distance. Judging from the blindfold being carefully tied into place and the hoods for her serpents, he intends on saving her.”
At least there would be a little hope amidst the tragedy. “Thank angel for me.”
“I’m sure we will, with our wallet or some form of horrific bargain.”
“Archangels bargain?”
“When it suits them.”
Ugh. “Naughty angels, always making trouble.” I explored the basement, but I found no more pieces of paper. “Want paper in coffin or let burn?”
“Let it burn. We have what we need on video record. The neutralizer would ruin it anyway, and there’s enough dust in that building to become a major problem if it isn’t destroyed. Try to stay outside of the building when it collapses this time, my beautiful.”
“I try, but no make promises. May not keep. Nay-palm’s fault. It tay-stee.”
“Just try not to give me a heart attack this time, Bailey.”
“That promise can make. Will try best!”
“That’s all I can ask for when it comes to you and your favorite treat.”
Thirteen
Cindercorns are not supposed to like being wet.
I limited my napalm consumption to enough to make my coat burn and ignite the thick, sparkling gel.
It seemed wrong to indulge while at the equivalent of a funeral.
It took me less than five minutes to ignite the napalm, and I helped reduce the building to ash and rubble with the help of a few larger snorts, which did an excellent job of flash-frying the structure so the napalm could do its job better. None of the CDC’s equipment survived the inferno, which burned blue-white until the napalm finished its work. Unlike in New York, there were no tones, and the CDC wasted no time hosing the rubble down with neutralizer.
I listed my enjoyment of being sprayed down as a perk of early pregnancy, and I snapped my teeth at the spray whenever it came close. Taking a firehose of neutralizer to the chest knocked me right over, and I snorted my shock the blast had managed to do more than thump into me. Whinnying, I pawed at the barrier to get at the naughty stream.
The archangel joined me inside, and he laughed at me. “I have been asked to check on you, as cindercorns are not supposed to like being wet.”
“Want!” I replied, thumping my shoulder into the barrier to get at the hose.
“I can see that.” The archangel vanished, and a moment later, I got my wish, and several hoses smacked me at full blast. I rolled around in the pink, sparkling fluid, which steamed around me.
Being wet worked so much better when my coat refused to cool down.
Once I had a nice puddle to keep me amused, the CDC resumed dousing the smoking building until they switched to regular water to continue cleaning up the site. The shield dropped, and I bounded into the snow, dropped, and rolled.
The snow melted, and I lunged to my feet for a deeper patch to cool off my coat.
My husband approached and observed with a raised brow. “Are you feeling okay?”
“So hot,” I complained, doing my best to burrow into the snow-chilled ground. “The babies make me insane, like cold?”
“You were already insane, Bailey.”
Oh, wow. I stopped and stared at him. “Oh, that burn good. Reward you later.”
He smirked. “Love you, too. Are you ready to shift back to human? If so, they’d like to confirm you burned the dust out, and they have a big blanket for you so you don’t get chilled while getting dressed.”
“Big blanket so they don’t get show, you mean.”
“That may have factored into things. I’ve been told I’m unreasonable when it comes to you.”
“Yes, that right.” I rolled to my hooves, braced, and shook out my coat, which steamed. “I did good, only had few bites of nay-palm.”