Thankfully one resource was obsessed with the fallen, to the point she’d spent years documenting stories about them. I tried not to snicker when I thought about Mary Agnes Winstead, a woman who was raised Catholic, started seeing dead people and, as a consequence, had become part of a vampire household. Although I’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, Goose warned me she wasn’t completely right in the head. Considering her obsession, I wasn’t surprised.
Mary had sent us dozens of files, most of them dating back a hundred years or more. Thanks to her dedication, Goose and I learned fallen angels descended from Heaven to protect the innocent from the taint of evil. Due to their connection with the Almighty, most people didn’t fuck with them. Unfortunately, in Marigold’s case, she was baited into a trap, killed, and her soul was forced to Hell. She’d then been given to none other than the King of Hell himself. Although Marigold’s actual name hadn’t been used in the text, it had to be our girl. It was the only story we found with so many similarities.
Not a great way to live out a century.
“She’s on holy ground.”
I stopped walking, wanting to be sure it wasn’t the wind and I had heard him correctly.
“Holy ground?”
“The information is sketchy and doesn’t pertain to Marigold specifically. It mentions monks coming across an unholy battle between an angel and demons. After the angel was killed, the monks fought off the menace and took her body to hallowed ground.”
My heart was beating a fast staccato. “Does it say where?”
“No.” Goose sounded as dejected as I felt upon hearing the news. “But don’t worry, I’m going to keep digging.”
“Thanks.” I started walking again, making my legs move faster to get to The Black Panther Club before my boss arrived. Deena had offered to do inventory but I’d dumbly told her I would take care of it. I figured the work would keep me busy, taking my mind off of Disco, Paine, and everything else I couldn’t control.
“This is good news, you know,” Goose said.
“Without a precise location, it’s not.”
“We have two things going for us, if you’d take your head out of your ass.”
I smiled, knowing he said it to pull me out of my funk. Goose never cursed, not unless he burned himself, stubbed his toe, or got really pissed off. “My head is now out of my ass.” I walked onto a street and cranked my feet into speed walking mode. “Start talking.”
“The record was found in the States. The place we’re looking for is here.”
“That’s one thing, what’s the other?”
“I’m certain we’ll find her in an abbey. The document is signed by an abbot.”
“So we’re looking for an abbey in the good ’ole U.S. of A. That should be cake.”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I could clearly envision Goose pacing around his office, annoyed and grinding his teeth. “Ever the smartass.”
“Sorry, it’s been a bad couple of days.” I remembered how battered he was from our tussle and winced. “Speaking of bad days, how are you holding up?”
“My bruises are fading, but you broke my nose. Paine had to break it again so it would mend straight.”
That had to hurt like a bitch. Time to kiss up. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
“No apology is necessary. You did what you had to. I know things got messy, but you didn’t lose your cool. That’s what’s important. My injuries will heal.”
“That’s good to know.”
There was a rasp in the speaker, as if Goose had changed ears. “Did you and Gabriel have a chance to talk?”
My unladylike snort caused him to chuckle. “If you want to call it that,” I muttered.
“You know Marius is coming.” Not a question, indicating he knew the answer.
“I do. I also know I have to be on my best behavior.”
“It might...” He stopped and I could almost hear his mental gears grinding. “Maybe you should come by so we can talk about everything. Marius is nothing like Gabriel or Paine. He’s...”
“One scary son of a bitch?”
“You have such a way with words.” He sighed into the phone. “That’s one way of putting it. He won’t tolerate anything that could create discord among the family. Since you’ve already created problems, you’re going to have to prove you’re worth keeping.”
“Worth keeping? Am I pet?”