Free Maggie for Hire by Kate Danley Page A

nun in a blue habit, rolling a roadies case.
    “Well, if it isn’t my dear Maggie MacKay.  Haven’t been seeing you in church lately,” the priest said in his sweet Irish lilt.
    “You know how it goes jumping between worlds, Father Killarney,” I said, giving him a hug.
    “The Lord only asks one hour of our time a week, my child.”
    I waved at the nun behind him, a slender lady with dirty blonde bangs and a wide grin.  She gave me a wry glance.
    “Sister Magdalena.  How come you always get stuck with the heavier bag?”
    “I’m just lucky.”
    I turned to Killian, “Killian, this is Father Killarney and Sister Magdalena.  They’re our cleanup crew.”
    Handshakes were given all around before we broke off to give them the tour.
    Father Killarney put on rubber gloves and crouched down next to a circle in the floor.  He brushed aside the black sand, “Well, nothing too complicated.”
    He then stopped and smelled his fingers, “Well, this is unfortunate.”
    I bent down beside him, and then shifted as I felt Killian’s eyes gazing adoringly at my backside.
    Elves.
    “What?” I asked Father Killarney.
    “Brimstone.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Sulfur, but burned in the Other Side in order to transport things here.”
    “Meaning?”
    “They built their own portal.”
    “Fuck.”
    Father Killarney gave me a chiding look.
    “Sorry.  Crap.”
    He gave me another look.
    “I am very upset about this, okay?”
    “Perhaps if you weren’t so noticeably absent from Sunday services, you would find other ways to express your dismay.”
    “Sister Magdalena, do I really have to put up with this?”
    She pulled the last pieces of an industrial strength, evil sucking vacuum out of the case and plugged it into the wall.
    “Don’t look at me.  I have to put up with him every day,” she said as she snapped a black dust mask over her mouth in punctuation.
    “Would you expound on the meaning of the circle?” asked Killian, deflecting the heat for me and getting this party back on track.
    Father Killarney nodded, getting out of the way for Sister Magdalena to suck up the runes that had been poured out on the floor.
    “Killian, the ability to jump between worlds is a valuable gift and most are not as fortunate as your girlfriend Maggie here.”
    “I’m not his girlfriend.”
    “It would do you some good, child.”
    Killian nodded his head gravely in agreement, “He is a man of God, Maggie...”
    “Shut up.”
    Father Killarney cleared his throat, “As I was saying, you can jump to this world with various runes and spells.  This particular spell was put together with black magic on the Other Side using brimstone to hold the portal open.  Once lit, it burns in both dimensions.  The trouble, as you know, is that once you are here, it is very difficult to go back.”
    I completed his thought, “So if there are vampires jumping over here under the radar, they are permanent guests.”
    Father Killarney put a finger to his nose and pointed at me.  While I normally would have hoped that this was the universal sign for “we’d make great charade partners”, I knew he meant I was dead on.
    “So how long ago do you think they were here working the original spell?”
    Father Killarney scratched his beard, “Well, the runes were still fairly fresh.  Wind and dust hadn’t blown them too hard, which is fortunate enough.  Tracking down sulfur in the cracks and crevasses of a stone floor is one of my least favorite things to do.”
    Sister Magdalena lifted her mask, “As if he’s ever the one tracking it down.  Father, you can work while you talk.”
    He made the sign of the cross, “Forgive her, Father, for she knows not what she does.”
    She shook her head and continued to vacuum.
    “My professional guess is that they have been squatting in this unholy place no more than a few days,” he said.
    I gave a low whistle, “Just a few days, huh?”
    “Time is the enemy when you do not wish for people to find