Chapter 19 Hitting Trees Hurts
Hitting Trees Hurts
Laughing evilly, the demon—Malachi presumed this was Bakeeron—launched itself towards his smaller canine form and tried to grab his head between its massive paws.
Quickly, Malachi twisted away, his lithe body slipping through the demon’s claws.
Roaring in frustration, the large, ungainly beast lunged again.
It towered at least eight feet in height and sported talons nearly six inches long.
Fangs that would be at home on a sabertoothed tiger hung from its heavy muzzle.
Yellow eyes with slit pupils like a snake narrowed on him as the demon growled, missing its prey yet again.
Its large size was a detriment as it kept trying to grab the much smaller dog’s body, and Malachi planned to keep using it to his advantage.
Snarling, Malachi spun and latched his teeth onto the demon’s calf, biting as hard as he could.
He shook his head, worrying his fangs deeper into muscle, and yanked the demon to the ground.
It flailed at him but howled in anger when it couldn’t reach.
It started to get up again, then froze as it whipped its head towards the tree line.
“Malachi!” yelled Chuck, her voice strained with worry over the sounds of the demons fighting.
Lucifer’s saggy tits! Malachi groaned. Stubborn-ass woman.
The demon used his moment of distraction to fling him off its leg and into a tree. The impact shook the giant pine, raining needles all over him and forcing a pained moan from his throat.
“Malachi!” Chuck screamed at the sound.
He heard her charging forward recklessly. Trying to stand, his legs wobbled and gave out, sending him crashing back to the ground. His vision wavered, and he had a very real fear that something was broken inside of him. A whine hissed through his teeth as he tried again to stand.
The other demon had shifted into human form and smiled menacingly before it turned towards Chuck, hands up. “Help!” Bakeeron called, “Someone attacked that dog! Help!” Now in man form, his tone was frantic and pleading, his face scrunched up in innocent worry.
Chuck paused, taking in the scene, the scuff marks, Malachi, the blood on the ground.
“What did you do to Malachi?” she demanded.
The demon reeled back in shock. “Me? I didn’t do anything! I heard the fight and came running. I found him like that.” He gestured at Malachi’s limp form. “The guy went that way!” He pointed behind him with a feigned smile.
Staring at the man with uncertainty, Chuck kept her eyes trained on her suspect while speaking to her partner. “Mal?” she called softly.
Don’t trust him! He’s the one who took the little girl!
“Yeah, nice try, asshole, but there’s a dead body behind you. Funny you missed that part,” Chuck drawled casually, as she kept her gun trained on him. She smirked, “Turn around with your hands behind your head.”
“What?” Bakeeron shrieked, “I didn’t do anything! I saw the body, but it was obvious he was dead. I was trying to help Malachi!” His eyes were wide with forced innocence.
“And yet, you knew Malachi was the dog? Not the dead guy?” Chuck declared with clear disbelief in her tone. “Look, I don’t know who you are, or rather what you are, but I do know if you don’t turn around right now with your hands up, it’s going to get a lot messier.”
Snarling, the demon clenched his fists and snapped his elongating fangs at Chuck.
Then he took one step towards her, and she fired her weapon.
The bullet struck his arm, spinning him to the side as the echo of the shot rang through the stillness in the trees.
Birds that had been silently watching startled and flew off, scrambling to get away from the mayhem.
Pausing as the air filled with the smell of cordite, Bakeeron glanced at the wound and watched sluggish black blood trickle from the hole with an amused expression.
Rolling his eyes, he turned back to her.
“What a naughty little girl.” His mouth stretched in a mocking rictus of insanity, fangs lengthening further before lurching towards her again as he roared.
Head shot! Malachi sent her, before shifting to human form. Curled on the ground, naked except for his collar, he croaked out, “Between the eyes, Chuck!” He groaned, clutching his ribs and wheezing, “It’s the only way to take him down!”
Without hesitation, Chuck squeezed the trigger, putting a round right between the demon’s surprised wide eyes.
A small gasp escaped his lips before he dropped to the ground.
His human body simply collapsed in on itself and fell into an ungainly heap, looking for all the world like he’d fallen asleep, except for the neatly placed hole in the middle of his forehead of course.
Running to Malachi, Chuck dropped to her knees and gently pulled him to her.
“Oh shit, Malachi, talk to me, how bad is it? Do I need to call an ambulance?” She grabbed her radio and was ready to signal for help.
Already, they could hear the shouts as the other officers on scene responded to the sound of shots fired.
“No, no ambulance. Gotta stay with you. Just need ice,” he wheezed, shaking his head frantically, his dark hair floating around his face.
“Malachi, you’re hurt!” she cried. “You need help!”
Shaking his head again, more vehemently this time, he turned his eyes on her, pleading. “Please, Chuck, no. I just need to lie down. I’ll be okay. I can’t go to the hospital. How are you going to explain me being here? Or the missing dog? You don’t understand. They’re after you!”
The crashing of feet trampling the underbrush caught his ears, and he shifted back to his canine form, laying his head on her lap and whining low in his throat, begging her to listen. Please, Chuck. I need to protect you.
“Okay, Malachi,” she whispered as the others neared. “Only because I trust you, but you’re going to explain this when we get home.” She glanced at the body. “Shit, I need a better excuse for shooting him than my dog told me to.”
Got you, he gasped. He concentrated and formed a long, wicked knife from the ether, then dropped it in the dead demon’s hand. It was shaped like one of his nasty talons and should match the wound in the other man’s throat. He flopped back, exhausted.
Chuck’s astonished gaze flitted between him and the knife. “A lot of explaining,” she declared, then turned to face her peers. “I’m okay!” she reassured. “Had to take him down. He hurt Malachi!”
“Son-of-a… Chuck! Are you sure you’re okay?” demanded the lieutenant. “Oh damn, what happened to Malachi?” His eyebrows were bunched in concern, and there were deep furrows around his mouth as he frowned hard. “Do we need the vet?”
Malachi made a brave show of standing, trying hard to keep his legs from wobbling.
He gave a lighthearted woof to prove he was okay while each breath felt like glass shards slicing through his lungs.
It was becoming clearer he might have a broken rib or three.
Not that he would admit as much here. He just needed to sleep, and his demon powers would heal it.
“That’s our suspect. Malachi tracked him, but the bastard tossed Mal into a tree after stabbing that other guy in the throat.
He came at me, and I tagged him on the shoulder, but he kept going.
Had to take him down.” Chuck’s report was delivered in a flat monotone, no emotions revealed, but her aura was laced with fear, doubt, and regret for having to lie.
The lieutenant studied them both, then nodded.
“Get him checked out, then I need a full report. You understand there will be a review of this before you can resume normal duties, but you guys probably need the rest anyway. Good work, Chuck, Malachi. You’re quite the team.
” With a stiff nod, he began barking orders to the rest of the officers and had their forensics team set up to collect evidence.
Leaning down to his ear where no one else could hear, Chuck asked, “Mal, can you make it back to the car? Or do I need to carry you?”
Concern for him was streaking her aura now, overriding her guilt at lying to the others.
Malachi knew he should be happy; he was corrupting her as he should be.
But it was a hollow victory because he didn’t want to hurt her.
Or dim those colors. Sighing, he leaned heavily against her legs.
I can make it if we go slow. And I’m going to need to get back to human ASAP.
One short nod and Chuck rose. “Gonna take Malachi outta here, get him checked,” she mumbled to the others.
A distracted, halfhearted wave was the response, so she moved back toward the field, slowly making her way to her vehicle.
“Chuck!” came the lieutenant’s voice. “Let me know what the vet says, okay?”
A feeble, “Will do!” slipped from her lips as she glanced at Malachi from the corner of her eye.
He could see she was biting the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh at the idea of taking him to the vet. No, he advised firmly, we are not going to the fucking vet. Do you know where they’ll stick the thermometer?