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Killian and I drove up to Father Killarney's church on La Brea. It was a pretty little hacienda-inspired house of worship attached to a local school and convent. There was a hellmouth in the basement and gargoyles on all the eaves. Killian and I had managed to destroy it several times in the course of saving the Earth, but the Other Side witches brought it back better than new. As grateful as I am sure they were for the work, rebuilding on Earth in a way that doesn't let the humans know what's up is a logistical nightmare. I think that was another reason why Killian and I were not on the Other Side's 'popular kids' list.
I waved at Sister Magdalena as we pulled into the parking lot. She took her veil and used it as a shield to pretend she didn't see us.
"You're supposed to love all of God's children!" I shouted at her.
"I'm starting to believe you are spawn from the Dark Dimension!" she shouted back.
It was fair.
Sister Magdalena was on Father Killarney's cleanup crew. When evil reared its ugly head, they were there armed with holy water and saint relics to push the bad boys back. She was a badass with blonde bangs, like if Maria Von Trapp decided to take up exorcisms.
She was pushing a wheelbarrow full of gardening equipment, and from the size of her shears, it appeared she was getting ready for a good pruning of the church's meditative garden. Putting up with all the nonsense Killian and I brought to their door would probably make me want to start hacking at things, too.
I parked in the blacktop lot, trying not to cover up the four square courts in case any kids were hanging out today, and hopped out of the car. The afternoon shadows of the building were falling the wrong direction and barely gave any shade.
Killian jogged up the steps to the rectory and opened the door for me. "After you."
"You just don't want to be the one who breaks the news of what went down to Father Killarney," I stated, seeing right through his faux chivalry.
"I cannot." He touched his ribs and winced. "Ow."
"He doesn't want to be the one who tells me what?" lilted Father Killarney's Irish brogue from inside.
The robing room was plastered in white and smelled of lead paint, old wine, candles, and incense. There was a deep burgundy rug that softened sound and the occasional bloodstains from monsters who had breached the church's perimeter. Father Killarney was hanging up his jacket in an oak cubbyhole and turned to see what the cat dragged in.
The old priest had been a friend of the family since before I was born. His craggy face used to light up when I came into the room. Now it seemed like he was constantly bracing for a newsflash of disasters. Which, again to be fair, was usually the case. He had freshly shaved his whiskers and tamed his flyaway white hair, so he must have had a baptism or something.
"Lookin' good!" I offered.
"Flattery will get you nowhere."
I jerked my thumb toward the door. "Any chance I could buy you a pint?"
His eyes narrowed. "I'm cutting back. What is it you don't want to tell me, Maggie?"
I glanced at Killian, wishing he would open up the conversation. Yet again, he just touched his ribs and said, "Ow."
"FINE, you big baby." I pulled what remained of the tatted hex from my pocket. "Couple things. Starting with this..."
Father Killarney cocked his head quizzically. "If you're looking for lessons in lace making, I could put you in touch with my sister..." he offered. "It is a departure in hobbies for you, however."
"Father Killarney," I said. "We think the shadow elves broke into my sister's gawddamned house, but don't know for certain. They left this hex for us in the nursery. A) Don't tell our mom. B) I am going to fucking stake the bastard who did it."
The fact he didn't even get on my case for my language was a sign how serious it was.
"What exactly happened?" he asked, hurrying over to his cupboard.
I filled him in as he pulled out a long, green silken tippet out of a drawer, kissed the middle of the scarf, and slung it over his neck. I noticed the ends of it had been embroidered with all sorts of wards. The priest wasn't messing around. He then pulled out a bottle of holy water, crossed himself with it, and then flung some Killian’s and my way, before dousing the lace.
"Well, the good news is it isn't smoldering or catching fire," he observed, relaxing just a little. "Probably not left by the less-than-alive crowd. But the bad news is that if this is the shadow elves, any ward we plant in Mindy's house will also block Killian."
And therein lay the big, uncomfortable truth. As a pair, we had managed to stay both free and alive, quite a feat in today's climate. And the only way we managed that is because we were watching each other's back. Splitting up meant easy pickin's. But sticking together meant that instead of watching each other's back, we'd be painting a target on the backs of whoever gave us sanctuary. It was a suck-suck either way.
But Killian, being the grown-up in our relationship, took a deep, brave breath. "Tracking dangerous creatures to your family's residence is not something I wish to do."
"Bah! Don't worry about that! I used to track dangerous creatures home a couple times a week," I reassured him.
"She did," Father Killarney confirmed. He spread out his hands and suggested, "Another option is we could move your sister and her husband into your parents' home on the Other Side."
We all winced.
"Don't even joke about stuff like that," I said.
It was a big decision, but I knew it was time for me to be supportive. I turned to Killian, took his rough hands in mine, stared up into those baby-blues and asked, "Did you let those shadow elves into the house to get out of Mindy's baby shower?"
Killian laughed. And then, the tension completely broken, he threw me into a headlock. "Guilty. How do you do it, Maggie? Such deduction!"
"Call me Sherlock." I looked up at Father Killarney. "Don't let the elf throw any wild parties without me."
Father Killarney quietly muttered a prayer for patience as Killian released me.
"We shall find you a place to stay in one of the empty convent rooms," Father Killarney offered Killian. "And I shall make sure the gargoyles station a sentry outside your window."
"Hot and cold running hallowed ground protection!" I tried to cheer.
"I shall miss Pipistrelle's baked goods," he replied with some sadness.
"I will make sure to bring you some."
"I am sure they will not survive the trip from Mindy's door to me."
"Fair." The dumb lug still seemed like he was carrying some guilt about potentially leading trained assassins to my sister's house and now having to impose on Father Killarney. I rested a hand on his shoulder. "We won't be here long."
"On your way out soon?" Father Killarney asked, putting away his tippet and the holy water.
Dare I say I noted a little accusation that we might be cutting and running vs. hanging around and cleaning up our messes.
"Trovac has another gig for us."
"Trovac..." Father Killarney repeated, unable to keep the contempt from his voice.
"I know you don't like us working for him," I tried to acknowledge.
"Working for an elf like that is not the reason you were given your powers, Maggie," Father Killarney replied.
And he was right. It really sucked to know we were playing in the gray area of "mostly legal" every time we got one of these jobs. But having no other choice, I doubled-down. "If the shadow elves are so close, it's best if we keep moving."
"And leaving your family unprotected?"
"That's what you're here for!"
Father Killarney threw his hands to the sky. "Saints preserve them since you won't be here."
Killian became a Human Studies major in school because the Queen wanted him to grow up and be an ambassador, and the skill in which he was able to redirect our tension showed that the Queen wasn't completely out of her head for suggesting it.
Smoothly, Killian said, "Speaking of protections, there was another reason we are here today."
"Oh?" replied Father Killarney, turning away from his judgment of me to find out what other disaster was looming above our head.
"A shadow elf attacked Maggie in Griffith Park—"
Father Killarney sputtered, fear all over his face. "Margaret Gertrude Mary MacKay! When were you going to tell me this?"
"Um...now?" I waved off his concern. "I survived."
"You survived because the elf allowed you to survive," Father Killarney warned. "Shadow elves do not make mistakes."
"And this one had a slip of the tongue," Killian added.
"Slip of the tongue? Shadow elves don't slip."
"We're fairly sure that this one was under a thrall," Killian explained. "And managed to break through long enough to convey a message."
"It was covered in some sort of... ick... from the Dark Dimension," I added.
Father Killarney's brain was already working a million miles a minute. "I knew the Queen of the Elves came back with something horribly tainted..." Father Killarney mused. Then, he shook his head. "If I thought I could get to her without her killing me, I might be able to help."
We sighed, knowing the reality of her allowing that to happen.
"The shadow elf muttered something about a hei-tiki that held some power and he said something about Killian not finding it yet. Any ideas?" I asked.
"A hei-tiki? You mean, a little Pacific island carving a person wears as a necklace."
I shrugged. "Maybe?"
Father Killarney's brow knit. "Hmmm... A tiki that Killian potentially could have gotten his hands on here in Southern California..."
Killian pulled out the locket. "We are hoping it might be a replacement for the nothingness I must wear."
"Makes me uncomfortable just being in the same room," said Father Killarney, waggling his finger at it. "Once you can be rid of it, what are you going to do with that thing, Maggie-girl."
"Drop it in the Dark Dimension as soon as I can safely lift it off Killian's neck."
"Excellent plan." Father Killarney turned back to Killian with concern. "Are you holding up?"
Killian admitted, "Whenever it becomes too difficult, I remove it for a little while."
"That's how they're finding us," I replied. "We're trying to stay mobile, but it's a helluva way to live and not the way I want my partner surviving."
Father Killarney nodded. "I shall investigate more into this hei-tiki. Something of interest to the elves..." He shook his head. "Let me know if you hear anything that can narrow it down for me."
"Will do!" I replied giving him a little salute.
Father Killarney reached up beside the door and grabbed a set of keys. "Well, let's get you settled in one of the rooms, Killian." He heaved a sigh and looked at me. He wiped his mouth. "About that pint you were offering..."