Page 21 of Playing with Fire

Even knowing that, he had still invited me in.

“Sor-ree for the truh-bull.”

“Come on in, Bailey. It’s really no trouble. The competition to host you was fierce, as Perkins and half the station offered their places, but since I was the only one of the lot with a suitable fireplace, I won by default.” Chief Quinn stepped into his house and left the door open behind him.

I gaped. Perky had volunteered to host me, too? Who else at the station would actually want to help care for someone as problematic as me, let alone half of them? Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

Aware of Chief Quinn’s curious neighbors emerging from their homes to stare at me, I shuffled my way down his driveway to the walkway. The sweet scent of roses got the better of me, and I paused to nibble on a bloom.

“Are you eating my roses?” Chief Quinn blurted.

Oops. I flicked an ear, swallowed the evidence, and feigned innocence. I made it a few more steps before a large red bloom caught my eye. I eyed it, glanced at Chief Quinn, and debated if I could get away with just one more.

“Professor Yale didn’t tell me you had a taste for roses. Had I known, I would have bought a bouquet so you wouldn’t eat my bushes.”

Yep, Chief Quinn liked his roses. What could one more hurt? He had so many of them. It took far more restraint than I liked to leave the big flower alone. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if I took a nap on his sidewalk for a while. The run from Manhattan hadn’t done me any good. I turned my ears back and swished my tail, annoyed over my aching muscles. My time in the hospital hadn’t helped at all, either. When I reached the four steps leading up to the small porch and the front door, I glared at them.

As a unicorn, steps were my archenemies; as often as not, I tripped over my own hooves if I tried to take them any faster than my slowest walk. I lifted my head so I could get a good look into his home. The entry way provided plenty of space with a side table shunted against the white-painted walls as my only obstacle.

Fortunately for me, no one really knew a whole lot about unicorns, especially my species, so when I did something weird, everyone figured it was a part of my new body and the result of transformation.

Wrong.

Unicorns, at least of my breed, normally couldn’t teleport, nor could they hitch a lift on the beams of sunlight streaming into Chief Quinn’s home. I was different. I had no idea how it worked, but when I had four hooves instead of two feet, a little concentration, a clear path, and some light equalled a fast way to skip the stairs.

When I materialized in front of him, Chief Quinn yelped. “He didn’t tell me you could do that!”

I bobbed my head and whinnied, careful to avoid stabbing or slicing anything with my horn. Why did a unicorn’s tongue make speaking English such a challenge? “Nice house. Tay-stee roses.”

In his preparations to invite me into his home, I suspected Chief Quinn had rearranged his furniture to make room for me. The entry opened to a sitting room with a pair of couches, an armchair, and a coffee table pushed out of the way. In front of a fireplace was a large, black furry rug. Flames crackled in the hearth, and I pricked my ears forward. “Fire!”

“All yours, Bailey. Have fun, just please don’t burn my house down, no matter how much I might deserve it.”

I angled my head so I could watch him with an eye. “Not your fall-tuh—fault—McGee use a bomb with dust. Nay-palm need-ed, Chee-fuh.” I struggled to force out his last name but mangled it.

“Just call me Sam. If you try to say my full name in front of the other cops, they might die of laughter. I wasn’t kidding about you being stuck with me, either. You’ll be coming to work with me. Professor Yale was very clear about that: you won’t be left unattended. If you get sick for any reason, we’re hauling you back to the hospital.”

Chief Quinn wanted me to call him Sam? I cocked an ear back, not sure what I thought about that. When I was honest with myself, I liked the way his last name rolled off my tongue. Come hell or high water, I’d get his name right. Maybe I’d drop the chief, but I’d reserve Sam for something truly important. “I like Quinn.”

His name came out closer to queen than Quinn, but it’d do until I found some private time to practice. The last thing I needed was someone catching me while muttering his name. They’d believe I had lowered myself to stalking the police chief.

“I see. Is there anything I can get for you?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. Just shout if there is. I’ll be in my office down the hall if you need me.” He flicked me a salute and walked away, and I admired the view.

Then I remembered manners were a good thing. “Thank you, Quinn.” There. Not Chief Quinn, just Quinn. That was the closest to intimacy I dared to get with a man far too sexy for his own good—or for mine.

Chapter Six

I never needed to come out of the fireplace, right?

My first order of business involved stuffing my head into the fireplace so I could bask in the flames crackling around my nose and washing over my brow. It took a bit of work to jam my horn up the chimney without damaging anything, but after a few minutes, I was positioned to relax and enjoy the heat. My neck was just long enough I could lie down on the rug without having to rest much of my weight on the hearth’s stones.

“When Yale said you liked fire, I didn’t think you’d be sticking your head up my chimney. How in the hell did you even fit in there?” From somewhere behind me, Quinn laughed. “That’s incredible. When he warned me unicorns were high maintenance, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Could I fit my entire body up the flue? Making an escape through the chimney was beginning to seem like a viable option. In an effort to restore some of my dignity, I replied, “Your fire is nice. I like it.”