Corruption

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Corruption Page 8

by Jennifer Blackstream


  “No. I have a spell to match fingerprints if we find two to compare, but I don’t have a blanket spell to identify fingerprints en masse.”

  “What about the bullets? Can you find those?”

  “Yes. They’ll have blood on them, and I have a spell that will identify trace amounts of blood, saliva, and any other bodily fluids or hair.” I paused. “Father Salvatore, when did you put up the closed for renovation signs?”

  “Two days.”

  I replaced the things I’d taken out of my pouch and zipped it up. “That’s good. My spell will only identify traces left in the past twenty-four hours. If the church was closed for two days, that should limit the samples to only what’s relevant.” I straightened with my pouch situated once again, and faced Father Salvatore. “Father, perhaps Thomas could wait out here with Laurie while you show Andy and me around inside?”

  The older priest hesitated. “I am not a police officer, or even a paladin. What help can I provide your investigation?”

  “You could tell us if anything is missing,” Andy said.

  “I will be fine, Matteo,” Laurie assured him. “Go, help as you can.”

  “I will stay with her,” Thomas promised.

  Father Salvatore didn’t seem convinced, but he led Andy and me back inside the church. Andy paused at the door to examine the lock.

  “It’s not damaged,” he observed. “It doesn’t look like anyone forced their way in.”

  “So either they had a key, or they had another means to open the lock.” I threw magic over the lock and chain, a spell that was so familiar I barely had to think the word. Silver energy glittered in the air, then settled on the metal. No answering sparks of color winked at me. “No spells. Whoever it was had a key.”

  “Thomas had the only keys,” Father Salvatore said.

  “But it’s a generic lock,” Andy observed. “It wouldn’t be that hard to pick, even for an amateur.”

  “I have a finger printing kit.” I pointed to the smooth sides of the padlock. “I’ll see if I can lift anything from the lock. Only Thomas’s should be on it, yes?”

  Father Salvatore stood in the doorway, staring toward the fallen twins. It took him a moment to realize I’d asked him a question. “Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, forced himself to face me. “Yes, you’ll find Thomas’s prints, and perhaps mine. I purchased the locks.”

  “All right, we’ll need your prints to eliminate then.”

  Father Salvatore nodded, his gaze already drifting to the victims. He lifted his rosary again. I guessed touching the beads was a nervous habit. Or perhaps instinct, after many years of turning to God for comfort.

  Andy moved past the door into the church. He held his phone out, and took photographs of the scene, some from farther away, then moving in to get closer shots. I knelt by the door and searched my pouch for my fingerprinting kit. “How long have you known Laurie?” I asked.

  Father Salvatore gave me a weak smile. “Oh, many years now. Laurie was a member of this church before I came.”

  I blinked in surprise. “And when was that?”

  “1968?” He paused, staring into space. “No, 1970. Yes, I graduated from the seminary in 1970, and I was assigned here to St. Michael’s.” A small smile danced around the corners of his mouth. “I wish you could have seen the old place then. We were not so…crowded by the surrounding city.” He surveyed his church, a wistful happiness in his eyes. “We’re still here though, aren’t we?”

  “Both you and Laurie.” I found the fingerprinting kit and set it on the ground. I gathered the things I’d discarded during my search, including a small Tupperware container, a man’s necktie, and a VHS tape of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. “So you and Laurie have been friends for a long time.”

  “Yes.” He tilted his head, studying me as I took the large brush from the fingerprint kit. “Mother Renard—”

  “Please call me Shade.”

  “Shade. I realize that the circumstances under which you’ve met Laurie might cast her in a certain light. But I want you to know, what you’ve seen today is not representative of the woman as a whole.”

  I opened the tin of black powder, careful not to breathe too hard lest I inhale it. Again. “She does seem…emotional.”

  “I would think that’s understandable, given the circumstances,” Father Salvatore said, disapproval in his tone.

  “I haven’t met many paladins,” I admitted. I brushed some of the black powder onto the metal, squinting to see if any prints revealed themselves. “But the few I’ve met were very composed. They saw the worst of the worst, all the dark things that demons bring with them. It didn’t seem to take long to develop a thick skin.” I sighed and sat back on my heels. “These prints are too smudged. We’re not going to identify anyone with these.”

  “When I met Laurie, I knew that she was someone special,” Father Salvatore said. “She welcomed me to the church. I noticed that she took part in every church function we held—but only those held outside the church itself. It wasn’t until we’d known one another for a month that I was witness to her…unique circumstances.”

  I packed up the fingerprint kit and zipped my pouch before standing. “You met Lorelei.”

  “Indeed.” He snorted. “It was a shock, I won’t lie. I’d never met a demon before. It wasn’t anything like I expected. By then, you see, they’d been bound for centuries. The demon was no longer pure. Still evil, but not pure.”

  When Peasblossom failed to interrupt us, I realized the pixie had left. I tensed, searching my surroundings, then relaxed as I spotted a speck of pink darting about the church windows. She was probably helping Andy search for evidence.

  “And how did Lorelei introduce herself to you?” I asked.

  Father Salvatore arched an eyebrow. “Crudely and lewdly.”

  “Ah.” I walked farther inside the church, turning over what he’d said. “Did Thomas have a similar introduction?”

  “No. I am the one who told Thomas of the demon’s presence—with Laurie’s approval. He demonstrated an interest in asking Laurie to train him, to teach him the ways of the paladin. I felt it necessary he understand Laurie’s circumstances so that he was not caught off guard.”

  “I mean no disrespect,” I said slowly. “But I’m surprised Laurie is in a position to train him. Didn’t she mention earlier that she lost the ability to channel the magic of her faith?”

  Father Salvatore stopped near the crossing, staring at the bodies of Corban and Christophe. A shadow fell over his face, and his shoulders slumped. “Laurie can no longer channel the glory of our Lord,” he agreed. “But she trained Thomas to fight. And she continued his studies beyond what he learned in the seminary, helping him connect with history, and with the passion of God’s warriors who went before him.” He paused again. “I think she is exactly what he needed.”

  “In wh— Peasblossom! Don’t touch that!”

  The pixie froze in midair, her fingers an inch away from the tabernacle. She dipped a few inches before sailing through the air away from the holy cabinet that held the Eucharist.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Father Salvatore, still watching the pixie. “She’s terribly curious.”

  “She is not the first little one to want to know what’s inside,” Father Salvatore assured me. “No harm done.”

  I turned back to him, leaving Peasblossom to sulk near one of the stained glass windows. “I’m sorry, you were saying that Laurie is exactly what Thomas needed?”

  “Yes. Thomas was a…troubled youth. Fortunately for us all, he found God, and his heart was open to his love. He chose a higher path and attended the seminary.” He paused. “It was a good choice, but I knew the first time I spoke with him that he still struggled. There is still pain inside him, and he struggles with it.”

  He met my eyes. “Laurie helped him with that. Not just because she trained him to channel it into physical discipline, though she insists that learning to use weapons simultaneously te
aches respect for life and how easily it can be lost. More importantly, he witnessed her struggle. Laurie faces constant temptation, and she must make decisions every day to remain true to God, despite suffering few of us can imagine.” He nodded. “Yes, she was good for Thomas.”

  Something caught my peripheral vision, and I turned to find Andy waiting for us.

  “Father, did the twins explain the ritual to you?” I asked.

  “Only the preparation they required. I don’t know the details of the ritual itself.”

  “Could you look around and tell me if there’s anything here that shouldn’t be, or conversely, anything that should be here, but isn’t?”

  He nodded and seemed to steel himself before walking toward the altar and the fallen exorcists. I joined Andy beside the pews, far enough that we could talk without being overheard.

  “The restraints don’t show any sign of being damaged or cut away,” Andy murmured. “Someone let her out of them.” He leaned closer, enough that I could smell a faint hint of his aftershave. “Laurie is a paladin, and so is Thomas. Is that why you call them by their first names, but you call Father Salvatore by his title?”

  “Yes. Paladins often start as priests, or vicars, or something along those lines, but once they take on the role of paladin, that tends to overwrite whatever they were before.”

  “What is a paladin?”

  I watched Father Salvatore pick his way around the fallen minotaurs, his sadness apparent in the deep lines around his eyes and mouth. “There are different flavors of paladin, but basically they’re holy warriors. People who choose to serve God not just in terms of ministry and evangelizing, but by fighting against those who do evil, and enforcing his will with physical force when necessary.”

  Tension tightened Andy’s shoulders. “You mean like the Inquisition?”

  “No,” I said. “No, the Inquisition was led by human fanatics, and guided by political maneuvers more than faith. Paladins are divine spellcasters, individuals whose dedication to serving their god is rewarded with magical ability.”

  “But they’re not above sin?” Andy pressed.

  I frowned. “No one is completely above doing the wrong thing. Why, what are you thinking?”

  Andy tapped his finger against his phone. “I’m wondering what motive would make someone stop an exorcism.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You suspect Thomas?”

  “I heard you and Father Salvatore talking. Even if I hadn’t, I know a chip on a shoulder when I see it.” He glanced at Father Salvatore, then leaned closer. “I’ve seen it before in men who come out of the academy. Guys who feel underappreciated or powerless in their personal lives suddenly have authority, and it can go to their head. It blurs the line between what’s right, and what they think is right.”

  He slid his gaze toward the door. “And you saw Lorelei with Thomas. You heard what Father Salvatore said about how Lorelei behaved with him. We need to consider the possibility that Thomas might not have been ready to see his mentor die.”

  “I’ve seen mentor/mentee relationships get complicated,” I agreed. “Even without romance, Thomas might struggle to refrain from interfering while Laurie underwent a ritual that would kill her.” I looked at the minotaurs. “But Corban and Christophe weren’t amateurs. They’re professionals, and they wouldn’t have allowed Thomas to know about the exorcism if they believed he had doubts.”

  “If not him, then who? Who would want to stop this?” He gestured at the altar.

  I took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Let’s find out.”

  I called my magic, concentrating on what I wanted to do. The spell was still new, taught to me by a wizard who worked on a forensics team. It wasn’t a difficult spell, but it required complete focus. I let out a breath, releasing my magic at the same time. Silver magic rolled outward, but this time, it wasn’t searching for magic. It was searching for trace evidence, hair, saliva, blood, and even skin cells if the sample was large enough.

  A handful of smoky shapes rose into the air, marking spots where the magic had found a sample. Shapes appeared in the smoke. I lowered my hands and squinted. “Ignoring the minotaurs and the female paladin/demon that we know is Laurie, I’m seeing three male samples. All human, and that one there,” I pointed to one of the shapes. “That’s a paladin.”

  “Thomas,” Andy guessed.

  “Yes.” I swept my gaze over the room. “Look beneath all the shapes that resemble minotaurs. If the bullets touched anything in this room, there will be trace evidence for the spell to find.”

  Father Salvatore confirmed nothing seemed amiss as far as he could tell. Then he took a seat in a pew, watching silently as Andy and I searched.

  “Found one,” Andy said. He knelt on the floor and leaned closer to examine a hole hidden by the shadow of a shelf. “Bullet’s still in there. I think I have tweezers in my car, I can probably get it out.”

  “No need for tweezers.” I glanced up at the window where Peasblossom was staring outside, watching the two paladins. “Peasblossom?”

  She flew down with surprisingly little fuss and studied the bullet hole for a moment before sticking her arms inside. A few grunts later, she dropped the bit of metal into my palm.

  “I know someone who can help us with this,” I told Andy. “I—”

  A gunshot cut me off.

  Chapter 6

  Andy bolted for the door before I registered the gunshot. Father Salvatore followed immediately behind him and I scrambled to throw out a hand.

  “Father, wait!”

  He didn’t stop, but I was faster. I grabbed his sleeve before he could leave the church.

  “Let go, she could be hurt!”

  “You have no weapon, no bulletproof vest, and no magic.” I pulled him back toward the pews, trying to speak past the pounding of my pulse in my neck. “You won’t help anyone by getting shot. Stay here.”

  The priest refused to sit, but when I ran for the door, he didn’t follow me. “What good is your magic against bullets?” he demanded.

  “I’m not fighting bullets,” I responded. “Peasblossom!”

  The pixie was already at the window, staring out at the churchyard. “Laurie’s been shot. Andy’s kneeling at her side, pointing his gun at something I can’t see. The other paladin is making himself a big target to draw fire.”

  “He’s what?” Father Salvatore demanded.

  “Ignore her,” I told him. I leaned out the door, trying not to make myself a bigger target than necessary. My vantage point gave me a clear view of the churchyard and the cafe. Andy was pointing at the roof of the cafe.

  “Andy, can you see the shooter?” I called.

  “No! But I thought I saw movement on that roof. Laurie’s hit.”

  “Velox accingo!” Thomas shouted.

  Magic snapped out from him like a whip cracking in the air. I gasped as something hugged my body, squeezing as if I were being fastened into a corset. It was familiar and shocking all at once, and my jaw dropped as I realized I was wearing a vest. A bulletproof vest.

  I stared at Andy, Laurie, and Thomas. All of us wore the same thick black vest with broad Velcro straps at the shoulders and sides. Laurie shouted in pain, and I winced. The vest had been too late for her, and I doubted the pressure from the heavy gear was helping her wound.

  I gritted my teeth and left the doorway, staying low as I scurried over the grass toward the fallen paladin. Laurie lay before the stone bench, curled on her side as best she could wearing the stiff Kevlar. Andy stepped forward to give me more room as I sidled around the bench and grabbed Laurie under her arms. She hissed as I dragged her back toward the church, pressing her lips together to smother another cry of pain. Blood soaked her blouse where it was visible over the top of the vest, and if she hadn’t been demon-bound, she’d have bled out.

  Andy followed me, gun still at the ready, head swiveling back and forth as he watched for movement. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, and his brown eyes squinted against th
e bright afternoon sunlight.

  “Thomas!” he barked. “Get inside!”

  Thomas’ arms fell to his sides, and he stumbled, exhausted from the effort of his spell. I tugged Laurie into the shadow of the church, but kept my eye on Thomas, praying he wouldn’t keel over.

  Andy stopped, his jaw tightening. “Thomas!”

  The young paladin swayed on his feet, then after a stuttering couple of steps ran to the church. His legs didn’t seem to work right, and he tripped over a large rock, pitching forward and hitting the ground with a grunt.

  Laurie gasped, pressing her hand over her vest above the wound. Her fingers were bright red with blood from when she’d pressed them against the injury, before Thomas had used magic to conjure the vest. “Who was that?” she rasped.

  The sound of her voice made Thomas leap to his feet, and he stumbled to her side. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know who it was, but we need to get you inside before they try again.” I grunted as I took more of her weight, dragging her inside the church as Andy kept his body in front of us like a human shield. “She’s all right, Thomas, she’ll be all right.”

  “Lay her down,” Father Salvatore commanded as soon as we were over the threshold. “Get the vest off of her!” He pulled the stole from around his shoulders, wadding it up as if he would press it to the wound.

  “The bullet hit her in the shoulder,” Thomas said, helping Laurie out of the armor he’d conjured.

  “Someone shot me?” Laurie’s irises lit with crimson flame. “Who dares? I will— No!”

  Too late, I realized she had no accent. I froze halfway between the door and the altar, staring down at the woman bleeding on the floor. It wasn’t Laurie I was pulling into the church—it was Lorelei.

  “No!” she screamed. She fought free of my grasp, twisting violently as the stiffness of the vest impeded her attempt to sit up. Thomas had only unfastened the Velcro on one side, and she snarled and lunged away from him, toward the door. Her face pinched with pain, and she pitched forward.

 

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