Page 8 of The Flame Game

“Like their ability to reboot my immune system when it fails?”

“That is one of those benefits, yes. One day, you may even learn how to do that yourself. It is within your grasp, although it will be more of a learned trait than a natural inclination.”

“I’m a badass.”

“You are, although those powers do come at a price.”

“Like being smited.”

“Smote.”

“Smited!”

Quinn peeked under the tablecloth. “Are you really arguing with your father over that? It’s smote.”

“Smited,” I replied, and I dared to lean forward and steal a kiss. “I win.”

“Smote is still the correct word, but if it means I get kissed when I argue with you over it, I see no problems with this. Are you ready for your next steak? It just arrived.”

I checked Quinn’s plate, which I’d picked clean of meat while talking to my father, and I handed it to him. “I left you some potatoes and green things.”

He took the plate, and he replaced it with one with a new piece of steak, which took up the entire plate and lacked any of the potatoes or green things Quinn often tried to feed me. “That is good, because I stole your potatoes and green things, and I will sit here and enjoy eating it all. I refuse to share, so you’ll just have to eat that big steak all by yourself.”

I claimed my prize, set it down, and rubbed my hands. “You are guarding our presents?”

“I am making sure your presents are safe and sound, and I’m even telling them you’re spending some time with your dad—and not the asshole one. I have to specify, because a lot of the cops hate your human parents.”

“Well, they are assholes, and someone told them about the courthouse incident.”

“I may have asked the cops in Queens to keep an eye on our neighborhood in case they decided to pay you a visit,” my husband confessed.

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and wondered how I’d gotten lucky enough to win someone like him. “I can transform into a unicorn, and I breathe fire. I can handle a pair of stupid vanilla humans.”

“They might have a gun,” he replied.

Being shot sucked. “I do not like being shot, and this is a very valid point. I do not wish to be shot.”

“Again, my walking bomb squad.” According to my husband’s expression, he’d be getting payback in some form or another. As his version of payback involved the bedroom, I’d enjoy every minute of his scolding.

“You can punish me for that stunt when we go back to our room and need a break from opening presents.”

He laughed. “Is it a punishment if you like it?”

“It is now.”

He lowered the tablecloth to resume his conversation with whomever had come to pay him a visit. I went to work cutting up my steak. “Do you want some? I’ve totally made you hide under a table without offering to feed you.”

“After you return to keeping your husband company, I will dine with Anubis and the Sphinx, as we have much to discuss. In your excitement, try not to forget the investigating you should be doing.”

“I won’t,” I swore. “Morrison is the kind of asshole who’d try to get revenge solely because I still exist. Add in the charges? He’ll be back. I know this, and Quinn probably does, too. I’ll do my best to keep from worrying about it for a day or two, but I don’t want him to get too much of a head start. Since the gorgons were targeted and many of them killed, I’ll get the Quinn family to help. I’m pretty sure the gorgons have a network.”

“Your husband fears the possibility of retaliation, but he is uncertain about the probability of it happening. His grandfather is aware of the certainty of such things, as he saw your memories on the matter.”

“Sariel told you about that?”

“He deemed it to be a wise decision, as I will not be a benevolent being should he hurt you. We are limited in what we can do, but there is nothing in the rules stating I cannot prepare you for what I feel will be an inevitable conclusion.”

“Because he’s an asshole, and that’s what assholes do.”