Page 22 of Catnapped

“A lot of gloves so we don’t leave our fingerprints everywhere, coverings for our shoes so we don’t track in anything new onto the site. We’ll need cameras, bags to store any evidence we pick, and we’ll have to take a lot of notes. The cops just won’t really go up here, even during a lab bust; they’re in and out, because they don’t want to lose law enforcement personnel to cranky locals. It’s a really dangerous area. I’d say we should go in vested, but it’s a crime to commit a crime while wearing protective gear, so I’d like to limit the number of actual crimes we commit. There are ways to skirt the trespassing laws, so I’ll deal with that.” Darian dug into his wallet and pulled out a card, holding it out to me. “This card helps, too.”

I took it, raising my brow at the CDC mandate stating Darian had applicable experience in the collection and handling of evidence to turn over to law enforcement personnel, and it was listed as valid for the entirety of the United States. “How did you get this?”

“My father asked the CDC very nicely, as it helped me bring crooks to justice. They didn’t want to upset the archangel who is essentially in charge of justice being served. Basically, he cheated a little on my behalf after some pressuring from my dad. Mom thought it was hilarious. I find it highly useful. So, this card lets me violate certain laws, but I have to be exceptionally careful about how I use it. After we gather evidence, we have to immediately take all of the documentation to the police and verify by angel. I always use an angel that is not my father because it annoys him. Really, he likes saying I ruin his peace of mind. I tend to tell him he doesn’t have a head, so he doesn’t have a peace of mind to ruin. That gets his feathers in a bunch.”

“How are you even still alive? Do you know what would happen to most people if they angered an archangel?”

“My father informs me he questions why he hasn’t blasted my scrawny, irreverent ass out of existence already. I just tell him he loves me almost as much as he loves my mother. Listening to a headless being scream from general frustration is amusing. Of all the children to get, he got me. I say he did something pretty terrible to deserve it, probably in the form of being in league with a devil or something like that.”

“I bet your dad just loves that.”

“He usually goes out of his way to get pizza or something like that on those nights, just so we can eat it while my father is forced to go sulk since he can’t drop his shroud to have any. He’s terrified of slipping for even a moment, so he absolutely won’t take any risks, not with me or my mother, and that’s even being aware I’d survive.” Darian frowned, and he got up, headed for the door, and rummaged through the pockets of a brown leather coat hanging in the closet. When he returned, he had his cell in hand. Sitting down, he dialed a number and held it to his ear. “Hey, old man. Got a question for you.”

I debated scooting out of the way in case the old man decided he was done with having an independent son with an enjoyment of causing trouble.

“Yes, she’s doing all right. Breakfast seemed to help, and she doesn’t seem to be in much pain, but I’ll keep an eye on her. Wait. Prescriptions? For what? Ah. Okay. Yes, I will take us to the pharmacy before we go on our outing. Anyway, my question. If I’m using my CDC card, and I have Diana with me, can we legally get away with using vests? It would absolutely not bother me to take advantage of my old man to get a permit to investigate in Humboldt, California for the next week or so. In fact, it would make my life easier, and I can then give the local law enforcement a lot of good intel on a busted lab operation they probably couldn’t access before. Sure. Call me back. Tell Mom I love her once she’s coherent. If you could work with Dad to keep her incoherent for another week or so, that would be great. I am expecting a healthy brother or sister in the appropriate amount of time, and I will be very disappointed in my parents if this is not given to me.” With a laugh, Darian hung up. “The feathered menace is going to try to secure a permit for us. His willingness to do this tells me he’s peeked, he didn’t like what he saw, and he wants to make sure justice is served. Manipulating archangels is surprisingly easy when you work within the restraints of their portfolios. Michael and Gabriel are both inclined towards healing in some fashion, so when presented with someone sick and a good reason to heal them, they have a hard time saying no as long as He doesn’t say no. The Devil likely manipulated both of his brothers on that front, especially Michael, who is very aware of the conditions for the End of Days and works to avoid it. Really, it’s humanity that seems to delight in the End of Days far more than any of the divines do. The End of Days ends them, as well. And however much some of the more destructive divines enjoy their dark works, they don’t want to be blasted out of existence, either.”

“They need something to destroy,” I agreed. “Honestly, it worries me how much divine attention I’m getting.” Pointing at my chest hurt, but I ignored the pain and said, “My current count of involved divines is at four. The Devil plus three archangels. What I do not understand is how either me or my cat could possibly be that important to any one of them. I can understand the Devil to some degree. I am a good secretary, and I can work with divines of most pantheons without it turning into a disaster. But the rest of them? The rest being involved tells me there is something far more than just a missing cat and some mortals at play here. Thoughts?”

“It probably involves the lab that had your cat. They could be trying to obtain immortality and using animals to test it. They could be trying to find a way to wipe out humanity and using animals to test it. There are a lot of potential options, and none of them are good. There are a lot of demented people in the world. Some want to kill all of the divines to free humanity from their evil influences. Some want to become divines to gain power and rule. Some just want to rule over all humanity, something that tends to annoy most divines. Generally, the divines enjoy their status as divines and do not wish to give up their portfolios to some uppity human. Even He has a portfolio and isn’t truly immortal, not like the Devil is.”

“How did that happen, anyway? It’s in the Devil’s file he’s a true immortal and simply cannot be killed. But there are records of His portfolio being switched, often once or twice between emergences. Now, that would be quite the surprise, don’t you think? One day, some poor guy is just minding his own business, and then bam, he becomes God, the head big guy of the Christian pantheon. And He has to use a full shroud, because His radiance is so severe it kills mortals if he shows even a hint of his form. Or so the CDC’s notes say.”

The book I’d translated had claimed similar, and it contained speculations ranging from an overabundance of magic to the Holy Light being too bright for mortality to withstand.

“Those notes have it pretty close to right. My father sometimes talks about His portfolio. Every version of Him is slightly different; it depends on the mortal who becomes Him. The current Him was a pretty compassionate being in life. It shows in his behavior. My father holds hope He will remain as He is; it’s a good change, one befitting the original Him.”

“But what happened to the original Him?”

“What do you think?”

“I have no idea. I never really thought about it before,” I admitted.

“He sacrificed Himself for the sake of mortals, much like He sacrificed the Devil to humanity through allowing him to have free will and fall. It just happens the universe cannot abide with the imbalance and moves the portfolio to a new host. There will always be someone with His portfolio. Beyond that, I don’t know. Dad was actually the one who brought up His first sacrifice. But it’s always a sacrifice of some sort. He can’t just be killed—He has to choose to end His existence for the sake of others.”

“Like the story of Christ.”

“Sometimes, humanity gets it right, although Christ was real enough, just not in the way most believers think of him. But He was actually the first sacrificed in such a way by His own will. Then the Universe passed the portfolio onto the next poor bastard deemed willing and capable of holding the role. My parents were strangely vocal about this sort of thing. Probably because they think I would go digging on my own and find out more than they want me to. They’re not wrong.”

“As evidenced by your investigative tendencies, coupled with your drive to acquire justice while also pursuing wealth.”

“See, the Devil is absolutely right to want you as one of his right-hand women. You’re smart. He collects smart people, especially women. I mean, he’s the Devil, and he absolutely relishes in sexist behavior and prefers to surround himself with pretty women because he can.”

I shrugged. “I mean, if the option is to surround myself with asshole but pretty men or asshole but pretty women, I’m probably picking the asshole but pretty women. And if they’re surrounding the Devil, they’re probably assholes. I mean, I enjoy Darlene’s company, but she can be a severe asshole when she wants to be, especially when hungry.”

“My dad warned me to never stay in the same room with Darlene when she’s really hungry. He was concerned I might not survive the experience. When my dad issues warnings like that, I believe him.”

“Smart. So, back to finding my cat. We have to wear protective gear so we don’t screw up any of the evidence. We also have to take pictures and notes. What else do we need to do?”

“Mostly poke our noses where they don’t belong, don’t contaminate any of the evidence while we’re gathering it, and try to avoid being shot while we’re investigating. Being shot complicates evidence gathering. And it hurts.”

“Do you need some time with a therapist before we head to Humboldt? It sounds like you need some therapy, Darian.”

“I just have a healthy dislike of pain, and being shot hurts. Being shot especially hurts when you have three parents you really don’t want finding out you were shot. They found out, but at least they found out well after the fact, thus sparing Humboldt from being razed by a cranky archangel. Dad, on the other hand, just gives me a severe case of the eye and suggests if I’d done my job properly, I wouldn’t have been shot in the first place.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to be rescued from your family? It sounds like you need to be rescued.”

“I’m fairly sure. And anyway, I’d rather not incite mass panic among the archangels. Archangels get ridiculous when one of their nieces or nephews gets into trouble. And when one of your grandparents is Him? Yeah. Let’s just not go there. I’m hopeful my fathers will help with my escape plans by keeping my mother exceptionally busy. That, plus I want to try out being a doting big brother. I admit this with absolutely zero shame. I’m pretty sure it’s a genetic defect, but I love children. I’m going to blame my father for this sometime later, after it’s confirmed he’s done his fatherly duties to me, his currently only son.”