Holy Water is No Laughing Matter
He offered me holy water, Chuck. HOLY WATER!
I panicked! In the moment, I didn’t realize he was kidding.
What do you want me to say? I don’t have much experience with religious-type people; I didn’t even know they did that kind of thing.
Is that even allowed? Isn’t that like… forbidden in that book they’re always carrying around?
I’m sure I remember that. I’m going to ask Nick.
He would know and can put that guy in priest jail for breaking the code of demon-priest interactions.
Chuck continued apologizing profusely to the elderly priest who was smiling serenely, patting her hand while she ignored Malachi’s explanations.
They were gathered outside of the main doors of the church, letting the sunshine and fresh air calm them.
Malachi sat politely at her side, trying to recoup what little was left of his dignity.
“It’s quite alright, my dear,” the priest reassured her once more, as he continued patting her hand gently.
He waved off yet another apology. “I remember seeing the news story about the pair of you some months back. If I recall, your partner was a rescue. Perhaps he has some bad memories from his previous experiences? We certainly won’t hold that against him. All is forgiven.”
Malachi sat up on his haunches and offered a paw to the man to shake. Trying to show he could behave.
See? Forgiveness! I’m forgiven! You should try it sometime; it might make your face less squinty.
You don’t want to risk premature wrinkles, he called to Chuck.
If his tone was full of artificial sweetness, well, that was her fault for dragging him into a church.
An imposing structure of religious fervor!
Chuck blinked twice and cleared her throat loudly to cover up his grumbling noises.
“You’re correct, Father. Malachi was found behind a bookstore.
So, there’s no telling what type of mischief and corruption he was subjected to beforehand.
I’m sure that accounts for some of his… less than desirable behavior. ”
Well, that was uncalled for.
Grinning, Chuck tilted her head as she continued to smile serenely at the now-confused priest.
“Well,” he mumbled and cleared his own throat, “I’m sure whatever it was, he’s doing fine work now. It’s fitting he’s here. Good strong biblical name, Malachi. You know in the old language, it means messenger, often referred to as messenger of God.”
You take that back before I bite your scrawny B—Bible-thumping ass! I was named after my great-grandfather, an Archdemon! He was only pretending to be a messenger to spread corruption and lies! Your book has it wrong!
The tiniest squeak eked from Chuck as she tightened her grip on his leash.
“Yes, well, Malachi certainly has a lot to say in his own special way. How about we get started? He’s used to following scents and trails, but we generally know what scent to begin with.
How do you plan to utilize that here, Detective Roundtree?
” She turned her attention to the tall, handsome detective who had been silently monitoring the conversation.
Don’t think I’m letting that go without a fight, Malachi warned as he playfully nipped at her fingertips.
He glanced over at the small laugh from the detective who was now studying him closely.
His expression was entirely too intrigued by his observations for Malachi’s taste.
He didn’t want the guy to watch him so closely, and he definitely didn’t like the way he was eyeing Chuck appreciatively.
“I’d heard he was a feisty fellow, but he has a great reputation for finding things even with the smallest bit of evidence.
” The man’s voice was mellow, soft like velvet, and just as soothing as he continued.
“My hope is that we let him sniff around the scene, then go to the other locations and see if he can pick up anything in common or recognizable,” Roundtree explained with a disarmingly bright smile.
He flashed dazzling, overly white teeth that belonged in a toothpaste ad.
Scooting a minuscule step back from the display, Malachi sent his opinion. That dude’s dentist probably bought a yacht just on that smile alone. Disgusting.
Chuck squinted dubiously as she stared back at Roundtree, ignoring Malachi. “And how do you propose I explain that to him?”
By telling me, duh. Really, you should be better at this by now. Is Jaxon rubbing off on you?
“You know, since he’s a dog and may not get a concept like that,” she clarified for Malachi’s sake.
Oh, right. Woof.
Leaning back with a surprised expression, it was clear the detective was confused why she hadn’t immediately accepted his plan.
Tapping his mustache, Roundtree shook his head, then nodded.
A faraway look clouded his eyes for a moment, then slowly he replied, “Yeah, I get that… but Raifson said Malachi has a pretty good command of the English language because you talk to him a lot and have such a strong bond. We really need him.”
Malachi groaned. I should have known Jaxxypoo had something to do with this. He had a shit-eating grin back there at the precinct. Jackass. I am definitely breaking in and drawing dicks on him tonight.
“Well, let’s get started!” Chuck announced brightly, clapping her hands together as if she were excited about the plan.
Roundtree nodded once more, his shoulders dropping with relief, and indicated they should follow him around the side of the building.
The kind priest excused himself to go back inside to work on his upcoming sermon.
As they trooped around the corner of the stone edifice, the detective relaxed further and gave them more information.
“This was the first location hit, almost two weeks ago now. The perpetrator broke in through the side door to the vestibule and took most of the plates, chalices, and crucifixes they had stored in a small room off to the side. No sign of forced entry, which is puzzling. Nothing was broken; no trashing of the scene. If it wasn’t for the open door, the staff may not have even realized something was wrong.
The suspect left the scene surprisingly neat for a theft.
This wasn’t a smash-and-grab, which makes me think it was planned for some yet-unknown purpose.
“The door was still locked when we got here, even though it was open. Which is also odd because there’s no damage to the sill or plate.
” He gestured at the door frame. “No fingerprints, no fibers, no forensics of any kind.” Pulling a key from his pocket, he gently unlocked the door and swung it open, pointing to the tongue of the simple door latch.
Chuck leaned in to study the hardware, a frown pinching her eyebrows and thinning her lips as she examined the metal mechanism.
After a few moments, she shook her head in confusion.
“I see what you mean. There’s not a single mark on the tongue to indicate this was forced.
” She turned her attention to the jamb. “Nothing here either. The hole is pristine.”
Malachi snickered. Of course you’re worried about a clean hole when tongue is involved.
He bit back a yelp as she pressed her toes on his tail to quiet him down.
Ow, fuck, protect and serve! Not maim and torture, remember?
We talked about this; I thought you respected me as a strong independent demon!
“And there’s no missing keys, I presume.” Her eyes lifted to confirm with Roundtree, who was already nodding in agreement.
“Two keys. This one”—he held up the key between his thumb and pointer finger, waving it at her—“belongs to the secretary who was in Cozumel when the break-in happened. It was at her house, secured in a safe. The other was in possession of Father Rusca, which he still has. So, no one used the keys for entry.” He pulled out his phone and showed her pictures taken by the initial officers on the scene.
The door was wide open, lights off. A close-up of the lock showed it was still latched.
“Okay, Malachi, get a sniff. Scent!” she directed with a wry grin, knowing that Malachi understood everything clearly.
Sniff this, smell that. No souls to consume.
Working away like a dog, physically abusing me in the process.
His tone was decidedly sarcastic and snippy, but he winked at her where he knew Roundtree couldn’t see, so she would know he wasn’t really upset.
He was just being ornery; it was in his nature.
Two centuries of demonic tendencies did not go away in under a year.
Chuck’s lips quirked as she tried to hide her smile.
She knew what he was conveying, and her simple acceptance of his antics made his heart beat just a little faster.
It was still a wonder to him on some days that she loved him, despite his demon horns, wings, and dark powers.
All of it. She found him beautiful and was happy to spend time in the dark with him, as long as he spent an equal amount of time in the light.
“What’s wrong with him?” Roundtree asked, puzzled, jerking Malachi’s attention back to the task at hand. “Why is he just staring at you?”
“He’s scenting the air around us first, making sure he’s cleansing his…
nasal palate,” Chuck explained weakly, waving her hand toward her face as if wafting smells.
Inhaling deeply so her chest rose and fell sharply, she gasped and choked on the influx of air.
She wasn’t a good liar, and this pathetic performance proved it.
Malachi wheezed in laughter, trying to cover it up with a cough.
He knew no one ever believed him—it was too obvious—but he tried it anyway, as most people didn’t want to believe what was right in front of their faces.
A small nudge of her knees to his ribs had him dropping his snout to the sidewalk, breathing in and cataloging the smells.
As he moved closer to the building, he paused and tilted his head, inhaling deeply.
It had been a couple of weeks since the first break-in, so the scents were faint, but he detected something odd and out of place.
Moving closer, the distinctly different odor grew stronger until he reached the door itself.
When he inhaled around the knob and the lock, he realized there was a trace of brimstone.
To him, it smelled like home—his home before he moved in with Chuck—but to others, it would smell like sulfur and evil.
Something from Hell had accessed this entrance.
And just like that, the strange question of the locked door with no forced entry made sense.
Dark demonic magic had opened the door and let something unholy inside.
He stood there, pretending to sniff while he turned it over in his mind.
It didn’t make sense. Anything demonic, without a protective cloak like he had, should have exploded and left a trace of some kind.
Some ashes or scorch patterns, maybe even some claw marks as they flailed about dramatically while they died.
Demons were a rather theatrical bunch, especially when meeting their ending.
Slipping further within the quiet building, he followed the trail right to the room where the stolen artifacts and items had previously been stored. His hackles tingled, and his tail dropped low as the odd situation continued to build tension around him.
“Did you find something, Malachi?” Chuck asked quietly. Her voice was low and reverential, pitched for the space they were in. Being part angel, she likely felt the pull of the hallowed grounds as much as he did.
A low woof, almost under his breath, confirmed he was tracking something.
She backed up and unclipped the leash so he could wander.
Moving back toward the wide-eyed detective, she crossed her arms over her middle, slowly rubbing her palms over her biceps like she was warding off a chill.
Perhaps she also felt the lingering presence of something undoubtedly not meant to be in the holy place.
The trail led deeper into the dim storage room, the shelves full of tarnished relics and holy accouterments dedicated to the worship of the big kahuna upstairs.
They lightly pulsed with heavenly zeal. Malachi shuddered briefly, rolling his shoulders as the ripple of righteousness washed over him.
For a brief moment, he almost lost control of his canine body and shifted to his true demon form.
That simply would not do. He whined low in his throat, Kelly, I need you.
Once upon a time, those words wouldn’t—couldn’t—have come from him. But falling in love with the half-angel had opened up a new world of feelings and emotions. He had his pride, but for this woman, it was all on the table. Groveling on his knees was not below him when it came to Kelly Charles.
Her strong, steady presence warmed his side as she knelt beside him, laying her arm across his back. “I’m here,” she whispered.
Having a hard time not going full form. I don’t mean Evan; we’re talking wings and horns, he reminded. I’ll do my best to stay fluffy, but you may need to distract the dentist’s delight over there.
“What do you need me to do?”
You’re already doing it. He swallowed hard.
Just being here is helping. Kelly, I think it was a demon.
Another demon opened that door and came in.
I don’t know how because it should have caused them immense pain, and they really should have burst into flames.
But I don’t see any signs of that. It shouldn’t be possible, in the absence of exceptions like mine, but somehow, they did it.
“A demon?” Chuck breathed faintly, keeping her voice pitched too low for the detective to hear. “Why would a demon break into a church? And steal holy relics of all things?”
I don’t know. But I think we should check the next location now. I need to see if the same demon broke in there. Plus, your buddy, Detective Thinks He’s Hot and Should Back Off on the Teeth Whiteners, is wondering what’s going on.