Page 102 of Playing with Fire

My agreement to take two dead phoenix feathers into the field would infuriate him, especially when he found out I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. With one mistake, I’d be incinerated. They’d likely devour my ashes, too, using me as fuel for their first molting.

Maybe I could avoid telling him that part. Mr. Police Chief wouldn’t know the logistics of using a phoenix feather, would he?

“If it makes you feel better, Mr. Clemmends said if you can handle the Quinn family, two phoenixes shouldn’t be any problem at all.”

Yep, Marshal Clemmends was pissed about me marrying Quinn and unleashing the hounds of gorgon war on him. “How nice of him.”

“It’s quite the compliment, really. Mr. Clemmends doesn’t trust most people with phoenix feathers or ambrosia, and he’s given me authorization to give you both. He did ask me to inquire about your request for the pixie dust and the sedative.”

“It might be best if you don’t ask.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“You’re giving me two dead phoenix feathers from different birds. Why are you worried about pixie dust and sedatives?”

“I’m Kevin. I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

“Bailey. What grade is my pixie dust?”

“A.”

I could work with that. A grade pixie dust wouldn’t circumvent someone’s will, but it would buy me time. “And the sedatives?”

“You’ll like this. It’s the good stuff. You’re not certified for it, but I convinced Mr. Clemmends a temporary exemption would be prudent, especially as it should be handled in the same way ambrosia is, which you are trained for. Your request for honey made me suspect you wanted to disguise sedative capsules as ambrosia, likely to give to the phoenixes to calm them down and make them docile.”

“You’re right. I think we are going to get along just fine.”

“It’s ungraded, but only because it comes in one potency. Those who take it will become docile, although they remain mostly coherent. It will not induce unconsciousness, but it induces certain numbing properties. It was developed for use in surgery, but it wears off too fast and leaves the subject aware of their surroundings. It’s restricted, since when combined with other substances, it may circumvent someone’s ability to make their own decisions.”

“Does it leave people susceptible to suggestion, like higher grades of pixie dust?”

“Let’s just say the development of this substance was banned beyond this level due to its potential. In this form, it will make subjects pliable yet maintain coherency. It’s ideal for hostage situations—if you’re the one holding the hostages.”

If I were a better person, I probably would have considered subduing the gorgon hive rather than indulging in first-degree murder. “I’ll be careful with it.”

“I thought you would. I’ve also been informed of your immunity to gorgon dust and have been given instructions on how I should use the glass coffin if you require it. We’ve determined forty-eight hours followed with an immediate dosage of transformative plus a special containment chamber with a bucketful of our best napalm should resolve any potential issues should you be contaminated.”

“You could just skip straight to the napalm.”

“We are considering it, depending on how Chief Quinn handles your treatment in a glass coffin. There will be a two-hour minimum if you’re contaminated.”

While I didn’t like it, I could live with the arrangement. “All right. Let’s get this stuff inside so I can get to work on my preparations.” I took custody of the phoenix feathers, which required two hands. The box didn’t weigh a whole lot, but if I dropped it and the glass broke, I’d die. With my luck, I’d die, and both phoenixes would make an appearance, incinerating anything within ten to twenty feet—or more—when they rose from their feather. If they weren’t contained—or moved—within ten minutes, they’d go through their first molting, which would give them the ability to fly and ignite anything.

Quinn’s grandfather met me inside the doors. “You look like you swallowed a lemon.”

“The CDC sent two feathers.”

“I’m guessing that’s why there is a pink bundle and a blue bundle in that box.”

“They’re from dead phoenixes.”

The gorgon’s expression remained blank, guaranteeing he hadn’t studied phoenix lore. “And?”

“Gorgon king school didn’t include a course on what might happen if you use the feather of a dead phoenix? Tsk, tsk. It’s simple. You might get the whole bird.” I grinned at my grandfather-in-law.

He blanched. “Do you have to sound so cheerful about it?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I’m bringing phoenixes to a gorgon fight.”