Stir Until Petrified

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Stir Until Petrified Page 21

by Theda Vallee


  “I know when to be quiet, Mr. Bossman. This isn’t my first trip to the rodeo.” He rolled his eyes at Luc so hard I thought they may have dislodged.

  Everyone dispersed heading off to their assigned task. They moved with a confidence I wasn't sure I’d ever have. Luc snatched my hand up without warning as we walked towards the church. Instantly the strange connection between us surged. I yanked hard, trying to snatch my hand back like I’d just touched fire. We didn’t need sex magic creeping its head up while we were working. We especially didn’t need our weirdo sex magic taking over while we were in a church.

  “Keep your hand put. We need to look like a happy couple. That’s an order,” Luc whispered in my ear as we stood inside the church foyer.

  His warm breath sent a rush of heat to my nether regions. For fuck’s sake! This was really starting to get annoying. Great! He made me think the “F” word in church. I should’ve stayed at home with Nerina pretending to be sick. At least then I wouldn't have been committing sins while standing on hallowed ground.

  As we walked into the church past the first few pews, a short round man waddled out of the sacristy at the front of the church. He was balding, but what hair he had left was as black as night and devoid of any graying. He reminded me of Friar Tuck from the old Robin Hood cartoon.

  “You must be my happy couple?” Father DeNazzi said, opening his arms in welcome as he approached us.

  Luc smiled broadly at the priest. “We are. I’m Marco. This is my fiancée, Rebekah. Thank you so much for meeting with us Father.”

  “It’s one of my favorite parts of the job. Seeing young people in love, walking the path of the lord together. It fills my heart with light. Please, follow me to my office. We’ll get settled and then get down to business.” The Father took off in a slow lumber, waving for us to follow.

  He led us down the aisle to a door on the right side of the church. Once outside we walked down a cobbled path towards a smaller building on the property. It was built in the same adobe style with a small wooden cross on the front door. The father opened the door, ushering us into the austere interior. A well-used desk sat in the back corner of the office with two stiff chairs placed in front of it. The front of the room was taken up by a couch that had been on its last leg in the eighties, yet somehow had survived a few more decades. Two dilapidated tangerine-hued armchairs sat in a semi-circle in front of the couch.

  “Have a seat on the couch. No need to sit at the desk like kids in the principal's office. I like this to be informal and relaxing. You’re here for a joyous occasion so I try to keep it that way,” the Father said as he motioned us over to the couch that time forgot.

  I sat down, instantly sucked into the broken-down depths of the couch. I clawed my way out of the sinkhole perching on the edge precariously. Luc sat down next to me, perching as well. It was a large couch, but he chose to sit so close his leg pressed against mine. I nudged his leg a little, hoping he would take the hint and move over. Instead, he grasped my hand, pulling it over to rest on his thigh. I plastered a smile on my face despite everything in me wanting to shove him onto the shag covered floor. We had to be the postcard image of a happy couple waiting to see a priest. My stomach churned with anxiety.

  “So how long have you two been engaged?” the father asked a pen poised over his notebook waiting to record every lie we were about to utter.

  “We got engaged last weekend, but we’ve been dating for three years,” Luc answered the priest, lying flawlessly. I smiled, nodding in agreement to everything he said. I didn't trust my voice to come out steady.

  “Good. Good to hear. So, three years, that’s a good amount of time to get to know each other before taking the big leap. So many people rush into things these days. I take it you’re both Catholic?”

  “Yes. Our normal parish is St. Nicks in Paloma Bay,” Luc said.

  “So why not choose your own parish, dear?” the Father looked at me expectantly.

  My brain took a hiatus as I sat staring at the priest. My tongue felt like wood as I tried to force out a plausible lie. “Umm, it’s nice here. I like roses.”

  The father pursed his lips, eyeing me like I might be in need medical attention. A thin bead of sweat dripped down my back. I had a feeling I looked more like a crazed Cheshire cat than a blushing bride to be.

  “You’ll have to excuse Rebekah. She's already a nervous wreck thinking about all the details that go into planning a wedding. We wanted this parish because it’s halfway between where most of our families and friends will be coming from. We want to make it as easy as possible for everyone who will be celebrating with us.” Luc patted my hand as if he trying to reassure his stressed bride to be.

  “That makes sense. Well, if we’re to make an exception and allow you to get married outside your parish I need to get a few details from you to help make that decision. I don’t know you the way your priest does, so I need to ensure that you’re starting out with a solid foundation. I’m going to ask you a few questions. I’d like you to answer each question in unison. I know it sounds strange, but it helps me gauge a few things about a couple. If I have questions I’ll stop and direct my question to one of you individually. Is that understood?” the Father asked.

  “Fire away, Father,” Luc said for both of us. I nodded mutely.

  “Do you currently live together?”

  “No,” we both answered in unison.

  “Have you engaged in premarital sex?”

  “No,” we answered in firm unison.

  The father arched his eyebrow at us but decided to continue with his questions. “Are you planning on having children?”

  “Yes.” Again, we replied in perfect unison.

  “How many?”

  “Two,” I said firmly.

  “Six,” Luc answered with equal conviction.

  “Six. Did you just say six?” I looked at Luc my mouth a wide O of surprise. “What the hell are you going to do with six kids?”

  Father DeNazzi wrote furiously in his notebook, watching Luc eagerly anticipating his reply.

  “I’ve always wanted a big family. You know that. I’m open to negotiating. Four might be OK.” He gave me a patient smile like a good long suffering fiancé to be.

  “Sure. Maybe I can pop out a litter for you on the first try. That way you won’t breed me into the ground.” I shook my head in disbelief. If he was the one having them I had a feeling he’d sing a way different tune.

  “A point we need to discuss prior to the wedding I see.” The Father made a big sweeping circle on the paper.

  What the hell was wrong with me? This wasn’t real. We weren’t getting married. I could care less if Luc wanted somebody to pop out a gaggle of children. Me and my damn mouth. Beads of sweat ran down my hand. How many more questions were there going to be? I couldn’t be trusted to answer too many more.

  “Alright, my final question for now, why you don’t tell me what you’re really doing here.” Father DeNazzi asked placing his pen inside his notebook and firmly closing it.

  I’d blown our cover because I couldn’t play along nicely. In my defense, I’d tried to tell them I was going to be terrible at this. I swallowed the pool of saliva in my mouth feigning surprise. I wasn’t going to be a Golden Globe nominee, but I was willing to give it a try. “I’m sorry, Father. What do you mean?”

  “Where’s your engagement ring, Rebekah? A newly engaged woman never leaves the house without her ring. You also don't seem as excited as most of the other brides that walk in that door. I can smell the power on both of you. At first, I thought you were trying to pass in the human world, so I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But as we’ve talked, I think something else is going on. You’re sweating bullets, unable to articulate yourself, and clearly haven’t ever talked about marriage. So, tell me what you’re really here for.” Father DeNazzi leveled his gaze at me waiting for my answer.

  Panic flooded my body. We’d been caught. I really should’ve taken theater c
lasses in high school. How was I supposed to know one day I’d be undercover and fake-engaged? I looked over at Luc hoping for some direction. I had no idea what to say. I tapped on Stella, a little nudge with my mind. Get ready, girl. Shit just might hit the fan. A swirl of anticipation whirled in the pit of my stomach.

  “I guess it depends on what you do next,” Luc said, leaning forward toward the priest.

  “You’d use magic against me in the house of God? You’d dare commit sacrilege by striking a servant of the Lord?” the Father puffed his chest out in righteous indignation.

  “Let’s be honest, you and I both know God doesn’t hold a place of fear in the hearts of our kind. Some of us try to assimilate into the human’s structure of gods and morals but at the end of the day, we’re beyond all of that. I’ll use my magic on you if I need to.” Luc stood up, towering over the priest. His hands casually hung at his sides, but I could see the slight twitch of his fingers. It was his tell that he was beckoning his magic.

  “Who do you think you are that you can come in here and demand anything of me? I come from old, powerful blood. Perhaps I’m not as easy a target as you think,” Father DeNazzi said, looking up at Luc from the tangerine chair. If he was afraid he was doing a very good job at hiding it.

  “My name is Lucio DeFiero. I am Osservatori. We came to observe as is our duty. However, since you know who we are, I might as well ask you a few questions,” Luc replied, his voice oozing with authority.

  Father DeNazzi’s face turned gray as soon as the word Osservatori was thrown out. His eyes darted around the room in panic. I could see the fear rippling off him. A lump formed in my throat as his eyes told me he believed I was just as dangerous as Luc. I was now one of the few things on earth that struck terror in the heart of a supernatural being. He had no way of knowing that I was with them but not really one of them.

  “Please, Father DeNazzi, we only came to observe. I’ll do what I can to make sure you’re left here in peace after you answer a few questions.” I twisted my hands in my lap, hoping he could hear the sincerity in my voice. I would fight Luc tooth and nail if he tried to arrest the Father. Vee had said he was a weak suspect. There was no reason to take him into custody unless he revealed something during questioning that left us no choice.

  “Do you think I’m a fool? Do you think my mother didn't whisper stories of what your kind would do if we so much as thought of using our magic for ill intent? I’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing that should bring you to my door. Yet here you are. I know you won’t leave me in peace. It’s not your way.” Father DeNazzi smiled sadly.

  I opened my mouth to try to argue but a surge of magic escaped into the room leaving me breathless. The Father’s clothes folded in on themselves falling into a haphazard pile on the armchair where he’d been sitting. The father had disappeared.

  “He shifted! What’d he shift into?” Luc began shouting orders into his wrist alerting the team that we’d lost Father DeNazzi.

  I stared at the heap of clothes wondering what he could’ve shifted into that was small enough for us to miss. The stiff white collar he’d worn around his throat moved. It tumbled over the side of the chair, inching slowly away from us. I squinted, not sure if I was seeing things. A little pink nose poked out from under the collar scenting the air.

  “A mouse. He’s a mouse.” I pointed to the clothing pile unsure what to do. Should I just grab him? Did I even want to grab him? Before I could make up my mind, Luc lunged into action diving at the pile of clothing. I watched Father Mouse slip from his grasp, skidding across the floor like a fuzzy rocket. His delicate whiskers twitching in panic as he made his way to the front door. Before Luc could get back up he’d slid under the tiny gap in the front door and was outside.

  Luc took off after him leaving me behind with no directive. I sat on the couch staring out the open door, wishing I had one of those fancy watchie talkie things that Luc had given everyone but me. Sitting here was not going to help the Father at all. If they got to him without me, they’d toss him in a cell and throw away the key. He’d run. That was an admission of guilt to the Osservatori. Shit. I needed to get to him first somehow.

  Stella, I need to chase that mouse. Can you help me? I practiced concentrating on my intent the way Luc had taught me. If I opened my intent to my magic, it would be able to channel it effectively. I needed to be fast, agile, and able to track a mouse somehow. I needed superhuman skills and STAT.

  The magic flexed outwards from my stomach sizzling underneath my skin as Stella sprang into action. I could feel it burrow into my veins pulsing through my entire body with each heartbeat. Within a moment pain ripped through my body. It was a pain that radiated out from deep in my bones. I screamed in agony as the sound of bones snapping filled the room. Whatever Stella was doing to give me superhero powers might kill me in the process.

  The floor met my face as I collapsed under the pain. My eyesight became foggy. The world turned gray with only a few flashes of blue or yellow. The sounds in the room seemed to grow until they echoed through my head like a timpani being pounded on relentlessly. A final crackle of magic zoomed through me as if signaling that whatever had been happening was now done.

  My vision was still off. A piece of cloth had somehow been placed over my head. I shook my head vigorously dislodging it. I turned in a circle for a moment trying to test my body for the changes the magic had imbued me with. I took a deep breath, frustrated that nothing seemed to have changed. I was assaulted by a million different scents at once. They smashed into me like a tornado of smell. One scent stood out from all the others. I walked over to where Luc had been sitting on the couch inhaling deeply. I let the smell of fresh wet earth and pine trees comfort me. It was like wrapping myself up in a little pod of someone’s essence. It felt glorious.

  Wait. Why was I sniffing the couch? What the hell had Stella done to me? I opened my mouth ready to let loose a string of four letter words but all that came out was a bark.

  I was a dog.

  Damn, it Stella! How the hell was being a dog going to help me chase down a mouse? Stella flicked with displeasure. She felt she had made a really great choice. Well goodie for her.

  As I paced in front of the couch I tried to think how this could help me. I could probably run faster, but not by much. My vision in this body was good, but not anything to get excited about. The only thing I had going on was that I could smell everything and everyone that’d been in this room for the last fifteen years. That was just giving me a headache.

  Wait! I could smell everything. Didn’t they use bloodhounds to hunt by scent? I had no idea what kind of dog I was, but my smeller was on overload! I bet I could find the father if I could track his scent. There was only one way to find out.

  Walking over to the priest’s clothes I inhaled deeply. His scent filled my nose, pushing all the other scents away. Incense. Sweat. Pepperoni. Tiger Balm. Each of those were a component that made up his unique smell. It was disgusting. How could dogs stand being around us if we were this freaking pungent? Turning slowly, I began scenting the air searching for that unique smell that would hopefully lead me to the runaway priest. To my surprise, the scent filled my wet nose immediately. I began to bay like dogs on a hunt. My legs sprang into action before I could even will it. The animal instinct was coming through even though I was still aware of myself. Maybe Stella’s idea was good after all. Ughh. I was going to have to apologize to her later!

  Taking off around the building I followed the scent to the front. Brady and Luc were there talking animatedly, clearly having lost the priest. Good news for them I was hot on his trail. I made a beeline for them barking my head off as I went.

  “Go away, pup, we’re busy. Who the hell just lets their dog run around a church parking lot without a leash?” Brady said shooing me away with his hands.

  They had no idea it was me. I’d need to take a more aggressive approach. I latched onto Luc’s pant leg shaking it with all my might.

  “Brady, can yo
u get this mutt off me? Is this thing rabid? I don’t want to hurt it, but it’s latched on good.” Luc shook his leg vigorously trying to dislodge me. I let out a low rumble from deep in my chest, growling in displeasure as he continued to try to remove me from his leg.

  “Come on, little doggie, don’t bite Uncle Brady. You have to get off the pant leg now.” Brady gently pried my jaws open removing me from Luc’s pant leg. He held me at arm’s length as he turned me to face him. I let out a yelp twisting to get free. “Bad puppy. Where’s your owner?”

  He stood there staring at me, a confused look on his face as recognition slowly crept over him.

  “I think this Etta. Look at the eyes.” Brady turned me towards Luc. I barked in delight licking his hand to reward him for being so smart. No gross! Licking people was not OK.

  “What? Why would she be a dog?” Luc asked, peering into my face. “Well, it’s her eyes alright. Etta why are you a terrier? Put her down. Maybe she can show us where we need to go.”

  Brady set me down and I yipped my impatience, bounding for the front door of the church. They followed behind me opening the door for me. I ran up the middle aisle searching for the priest’s smell.

  A surprised nun yelped when I shot between her legs, intent on my mission. “Excuse me, you can’t have your dog in here. You need to take it outside right now.”

  Brady walked up to the nun aggressively waving his arms spouting something repeatedly in French, a brilliant impromptu distraction that allowed me to make my way to the back of the church. Finally, I caught a faint trace of his scent near the sacristy. I stood by the door barking for assistance. Luc appeared, letting me into the room. I paused for a moment terrified to step over the threshold of this sacred space. Please, dear lord, don't strike me dead for going into this sacred space where the holy vestments are stored. Hopefully the lord would understand.

 

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