Nautilus Than Perfect by K.L. Hiers

Chapter 4.

BACK INthe car, Merrick sat still as a statue behind the wheel while he patiently waited for Chase to explain himself.

Chase was lighting up a cigarette, imagining various ways to strangle Sloane for bringing up Ollie. Probably not very kind to wish harm upon a pregnant person, but he was pissed. He was already dizzy from the information overload he’d just received, and the throbbing in his head had returned full force.

“So, the linguist who refuses to work for us is my nephew,” he began. “My little brother’s youngest kid. Was a real good boy for a while until some nasty breakup sent him into crazy land. Started getting into drugs, had some little issues with possession that maybe I helped some people look the other way on. We had a big ol’ intervention for him, and he promised to stop.”

Merrick was silent, but he nodded.

“I thought he was finally getting better, but a few months ago, he had some sort of relapse.” Chase paused to take a drag. “He was at a grocery store and claims he saw a fuckin’ monster in there trying to buy garlic. No one else saw shit, and he started freaking out in the parking lot. Got physical with somebody. Cops get called, they call me, and I go down there to try to talk to him.

“He had completely lost it. He was talking crazy about seeing things everywhere, and whoa, big surprise, I find a bunch of damn drugs on him. He refuses to go to rehab or any kinda hospital. I couldn’t do him another fuckin’ favor, so I arrested him. He spent a few nights in jail, made bail, and well… he ain’t spoken to me since.

“Found out he got off with parole since it was his first real offense and heard he quit working for the department. I know it’s because of me. My brother’s mad at me because I couldn’t get his kid outta trouble when all I’ve been doing is keeping his dumb ass out of it for months.”

“You were right to arrest him,” Merrick said. “It sounds as if he was taking advantage of your relationship.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just a stupid kid who really needs help that I couldn’t give him.” Chase puffed on his cigarette again. “And you know, that’s the shitty thing. He’s not stupid. I mean, okay, he’s a little stupid. Like, I wouldn’t leave him in a room by himself for too long with a bunch of sharp objects, but this translating stuff he’s been doing? He’s great at it.”

“He is obviously wasting a great talent.”

“Yeah, well, ain’t my place to say none of that now. He hates me.”

“If he is as skilled as you say, perhaps it is worth visiting him,” Merrick suggested. “This is truly a most urgent matter.”

“He’s not gonna talk to me,” Chase grumbled.

“Then I will talk to him,” Merrick said firmly. “I will explain how important this is.”

“Wiggle your tentacles at him. I’m sure that’ll be convincing.”

Merrick did not look amused.

“Sorry, fuck, just trying to lighten the mood.” Chase sighed, flicking his spent cigarette out the window.

Before Merrick could reprimand him for his cursing or his littering, his phone rang. He made a face at the cracked screen and tried to answer it. “My phone is still not working. It is dispatch.”

“Hang on.” Chase dug his own phone out of his pocket and dialed the dispatch line. He waited for it to ring before passing it over to Merrick. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

While Merrick chatted with dispatch, Chase zoned out. He felt terrible about what had happened with Ollie, but he didn’t know what else he could have done. Poor kid was seeing monsters everywhere, and that wasn’t possible….

Then again, Chase thought, he was currently sitting right next to a god.

“We have a hit on one of the prints from the factory,” Merrick said as soon as he got off the phone. “Based on the physical description, I believe it is the man whose face was bandaged. I have instructed them to text message you the address.”

“What do you look like?”

“Pardon?” Merrick blinked.

“Like, the real you,” Chase clarified. “The god you.”

“My godly form is of no consequence,” Merrick replied haughtily. “Now, we are going to the residence of Jeffrey Martin. He has a colorful criminal history, and it is rife with theft and unregistered magical assault. He could be—”

“Come on,” Chase chided. “You can’t look that fuckin’ awful. I mean, for fuck’s sake, look at me!” He smacked his round belly. “I’m just a few pounds away from a full keg. So tell me. What do you look like?”

“It is irrelevant, your language continues to be too bold, and I do not like you talking about yourself that way,” Merrick snapped, his words coming out so quickly it took Chase a few seconds to catch up.

“Okay, wait, wait, but it’s totally relevant because I wanna know, fuck your language policing, and why? Why do you fuckin’ care?”

“As my partner, you should have nothing but confidence.” Merrick fidgeted again as he had in the apartment earlier, cranking the car and hastily exiting the parking lot. “Your self-deprecating humor is unnecessary.”

“It’s not humor, it’s the truth,” Chase scolded. “I know what I look like. I’m old, I’m fat, and I’m tired, okay? Whatever I had to offer someone faded a long time ago.”

Watching Merrick’s fidgeting fingers, Chase was left wondering what the cause was.

Did…. Did Merrick like him?

No, that was stupid. Impossible. And yet, it was only when Loch discussed the possibility of them dating that Merrick got so anxious.

Maybe….

“We are here,” Merrick announced, parking at the curb and practically leaping out of the car.

Chase followed behind him, and he took a quick look around.

The neighborhood wasn’t too shabby, most of the lawns well-groomed, and he saw some kids playing down the street.

Hard to believe a crazy Salgumel worshipper might live here.

Merrick was already at the door, examining the frame with a scowl.

“What’s up?” Chase asked. “More wards?”

Curling his fist, Merrick smirked as the top of the door cracked. “Not anymore.” He knocked loudly. “AVPD, Mr. Martin! We need to speak with you!”

Merrick took a few steps back, and Chase peered through the windows. There were curtains obscuring his view, but through a tiny sliver he could see…

A body, facedown.

“Merrick,” Chase snapped. “Possible vic inside. We gotta get in right now.”

Merrick didn’t hesitate to strike the door with a quick flick of his tentacle, causing it to slam wide open. Gun drawn, he charged inside.

Chase ran in behind him, getting a glimpse of a sparse living room. He went straight for the body on the floor in front of the couch. He turned it over, grimacing and recoiling immediately. “Ah, for fuck’s sake.”

“Are they alive?” Merrick demanded, stalking around the perimeter of the foyer and living room.

“No,” Chase sighed.

“I did not see you check for a pulse.”

“Hard to have a pulse when your heart’s been torn out,” Chase replied glumly, gesturing to the gaping hole in the dead man’s chest.

“That is not Mr. Martin,” Merrick observed.

“No, but he’s definitely one of the guys who shot at us this morning.” Chase made a face. “Guess they came back here to regroup and decided this was a great idea.”

“Perhaps it has something to do with the ritual,” Merrick mused, wrinkling his nose at the mess. “We need to call this in and get forensics down here as soon as possible.”

“Here,” Chase said, thrusting his phone at Merrick. He took several steps away from the body and rubbed his forehead. “I need a second.”

“Are you all right?” Merrick asked. “Do you need me to call for medical assistance?”

“No, I just feel a little sick.” Chase grimaced. “Seeing the inside of somebody’s chest ain’t doing my stomach any favors.”

“Very well.” Merrick holstered his weapon and began to dial on Chase’s phone. “I will make the call. Take all the time you need.”

“I’ll go check the rest of the house.”

“There is no one else here,” Merrick said, his eyes turning black and shining with stars. “Trust me.”

“Fine, show-off!” Chase scoffed. “Did your magical little god powers tell you if there’s any clues? Yeah, didn’t think so!” He stalked off before Merrick could actually reply, desperately wanting space between himself and the corpse.

He headed down a hallway that ran between the living room and the kitchen, and the first door he checked was a bathroom. The second door was a cluttered bedroom that reeked of vomit. Chase moved for the last one, and he stopped.

“Holy fuck.”

All the walls were covered in red paint, and strange symbols were scrawled in long, uneven lines. There was an altar in front of the window, cluttered with candles and bowls, and the air was full of a pungent, bitter incense.

Chase cautiously approached the altar, and his stomach tried to visit the back of his throat when he saw what was in the bowls.

Flesh, blood, and a human heart.

That’s when he realized the paint on the walls was definitely not paint.

He reeled backward, and he honestly didn’t know which room would be worse to stand in. He went back to the vomit bedroom, deciding it was the less volatile of his choices.

There was a dresser, a bed, a trunk, and endless stacks of papers and books strewn across every available horizontal surface.

The papers seemed to be written in gibberish, maybe more of that godstongue crap, and there were literally hundreds of them scattered all around him. A few said things like “ritual,” “blood,” and “pure,” the same words repeating over and over again.

Cheerful.

He opened up the top drawer of the dresser, and he saw a collection of letters. They’d been opened already, and Chase noted they were addressed to their good buddy handprint-face Jeff at the Archersville Penitentiary.

There was no return address, only a doodle of a flower. It was a circle with six little loops for the petals and very simple.

Chase didn’t fancy himself an artist, but he thought even he could have done better.

“Forensics is still finishing up over at the factory, but we have some backup coming to help secure the residence,” Merrick said, standing in the open doorway. “Found something?”

“Letters,” Chase replied, turning back to face Merrick. “Maybe our boy Jeff had a jail-time sweetie.” He lifted one of the letters, sniffing. “Yup. Perfume.”

“Stop touching things.”

“It was one letter!”

“You should not yet disturb the scene.”

“The other bedroom is a disturbing scene,” Chase declared. “Did you see that shit?”

“Yes,” Merrick grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “It looked like a sacrificial ritual, but I cannot say what the intended goal was or if it was achieved.”

“Think they’re trying that Salgumel wakey thing without having the full set of instructions?”

“Possibly.”

“They’re like stupid kids trying to figure out sex, and they just keep sticking stuff in their belly buttons,” Chase grumbled.

“Excuse me?” Merrick’s eyes widened.

“I guarantee they don’t know what the full ritual is,” Chase said, “so they’re just fucking around, trying to make something work.”

“I do not understand.”

“What? It makes total sense. They must be doing something wrong because we haven’t seen any cranky old gods running around trying to take over the world. I bet they got spooked since we broke up their little party, and they’re desperate.”

“While that is an excellent deduction, I was referring to the belly button metaphor.” Merrick cleared his throat awkwardly. “Can you please explain it?”

“Oh! Well, it’s not like sex comes naturally to everyone,” Chase said, unable to resist the urge to flirt. “I mean, you’re a god. I’m sure you didn’t have any problems figuring out where to put all those sexy tentacles….”

“I would very much prefer we do not speak of my true identity.” Merrick turned his head away, and his fingers began to fidget. “I am also withdrawing my query about the belly button metaphor because I fear it is going to create an opening for a very inappropriate conversation.”

“Oh, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Chase took a few steps closer. “Someone might hear us talking about belly buttons and tentacles and report us for fraternization. Mm, how very scandalous.”

“You should not mock our code of conduct like that,” Merrick said sternly. “It guides our behavior as officers and helps us maintain a professional partnership.”

“Huh, and if we weren’t partners?” Chase pushed. He could see Merrick’s fingers twitching again. It was a long shot, but if there was any chance that he might feel the same way, Chase had to know.

“Detective Chase,” Merrick protested, his jaw tightening.

“You wouldn’t tell Loch, but come on.” Chase bit his lower lip, edging closer still even as his nerves began to scream at him to retreat. “Tell me.”

“I am not going to answer that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I do not want to hurt you,” Merrick replied, and he looked sad.

I don’t want to hurt you when I reject you, is what Chase heard. He smiled through the pain, and he swallowed back a frustrated curse. It was so stupid to ever have gotten his hopes up.

At least now he knew.

“Right,” Chase said briskly, looking around for anything to distract himself with. He kneeled down next to the trunk to take a look. “Now, how about we just forget I ever asked.”

“Detective Chase—”

“No, no,” Chase interrupted, reaching for the latch on the trunk. “Message received, loud and clear.”

“Wait! Chase—” Merrick shouted.

Certain he was about to hear direct quotes from their policy-and-procedure manual about this being the best thing for them both, Chase ignored Merrick and flipped open the trunk.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so upset, he would have realized Merrick was trying to warn him.

The next sensation Chase felt was heat, followed by a strange prickle of pain. Then he felt arms—whoa, way too many of them—grabbing him and slamming him down on the floor.

Oh, there was the pain again.

Ew, and the smell of burned hair.

“What the fuck?” Chase mumbled, trying to focus his vision and figure out what the hell had just happened.

He was on his back, sprawled out on the floor amidst all the papers, and Merrick was on top of him. His hat was gone, and he was wrapped up in a bunch of clinging tentacles, and Merrick was on top of him. Something had definitely caught on fire, and Merrick….

Nope, not imagining it.

Merrick was absolutely on top of him, and his eyes had turned back into those pretty black pools that took Chase’s breath away.

“You idiot!” Merrick bellowed, angrier than Chase had ever seen him.

Well, there Merrick was to fill the awkward silence.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if that fire trap hit you?” Merrick raged on, his hands curling around the lapels of Chase’s jacket and giving him a hard shake.

“Crispy Irish bacon?” Chase said stupidly. He grabbed Merrick’s wrists to push him away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d never been in any position nearly this compromising with Merrick before, and he couldn’t help how his heart thumped along so quickly.

“You jackass!” Merrick snarled. “You ridiculous, stupid little man!”

“You… cursed!”

“Damn right, I did! You are a jackass!”

Chase didn’t care what Merrick called him, although the danger of a fire trap was not lost on him.

Fire traps were relatively simple spells with devastating power, and they were commonly used to protect valuables. There was a terrible fire a few years ago that had killed a would-be thief after he tried to open a safe that had been fire trapped, and strict licensing had been put into place to monitor them ever since.

He should have checked the trunk before trying to open it, but he’d been a tiny bit ticked off.

“You could have set this whole place on fire!” Merrick was still going. “This was disgustingly negligent! You are the single most irresponsible human being on this entire plane of existence!”

The fun of being pinned down was losing its novelty now.

“Okay, okay, I fucking get it!” Chase snapped back. “I almost destroyed the fucking evidence! Lay the fuck off, Merry!”

Merrick was startled, and the anger left his face. His expression was now unreadable. “Oh, by Great Azaethoth’s horns… you really are stupid.”

Chase glared.

“Elwood—”

Wait, did he just say his first name?

“—you could have been killed! You could have died right in front of me! I might…! I might not have been able to… to….” Merrick’s handsome face twisted with agony, and he lunged forward and kissed Chase fiercely.

Chase was certain he had actually died in that fire and gone to Zebulon or the Elysian Fields or wherever the hell mostly decent people went. He couldn’t believe Merrick was kissing him, and the rush of joy and staggering passion made him gasp.

He was so shocked he couldn’t react at first, and his lips were numb as he tried to kiss Merrick back.

All he could think about was that he didn’t deserve this man or god or whatever the hell he was. But for this moment, this brief flicker in time, he was going to try and enjoy it.

“I am sorry. I should not have done that!” Merrick tried to pull away. “Please accept my apologies!”

“You only need to apologize if you don’t do it again,” Chase panted, reaching a hand up to Merrick’s hair and dragging him back for another kiss.

Merrick came to him willingly, kissing Chase desperately and running his hands all over his face and through his hair. His legs spread, straddling Chase’s hips and pressing him into the floor.

And the tentacles, wow, the tentacles were coiling around Chase’s arms and his thighs, and they felt so weirdly new and good and hot. He tried reaching up to touch Merrick, but his arms were pinned by the tentacles.

He was able to move his lower body, and he ground up against Merrick’s ass with a lusty growl. His cock was diamond-hard, and he groaned when Merrick rocked down against him so very purposefully. He didn’t think Merrick’s cock was doing anything—wait, did that even work, or was this now just a tentacle thing?—but he definitely seemed to be enjoying himself.

Merrick pulled back, gasping and out of breath, staring down at Chase with starry black eyes. His lips were pink and wet from kissing, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. “Elwood, I did not mean to lose control like that.”

“You can lose it any fuckin’ time you like,” Chase promised, running his tongue over his lips and trying to hold on to the taste of Merrick’s kisses.

“We need to stop,” Merrick said urgently, “before the nature of my passions betray me again.”

“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying, but do we really?” Chase wished he could hold him. “I mean, is it really that bad if they get just a tiny bit betrayed?”

“Yes,” Merrick insisted. “You do not understand. I have been fighting these desires for months now—”

“Months?” Chase was totally dumbfounded.

“Yes, months!” Merrick confirmed haughtily. “Stop interrupting! I cannot act on my affections for you because I cannot risk jeopardizing the future of Merrick’s career!”

“Third-person talk is still so weird!”

“I know my godly essence can easily attract and ensnare the passions of mortals, and that is exactly why I have worked so hard to conceal it!”

“Hold the fuck up!” Chase shook his head, trying to sit up. “You think I’m only hot for you because I found out you’re a god?”

“Yes?” Merrick didn’t sound so sure now, and he let Chase move up into a sitting position.

“Merrick. Gordoth. Whatever.” Chase steadied Merrick in his lap, finally wrapping his arms around him. “Whoever the fuck you are, please hear me out, okay?”

“Elwood,” Merrick protested, his hands resting awkwardly on Chase’s broad chest. He looked upset, but his tentacles seemed to be hugging Chase closer. “This is unwise.”

“I’m crazy about you,” Chase said earnestly. “You have no idea. It’s been so long, and I—”

There was a knock at the door, and an officer’s voice called out, “Detectives?”

“We are in here,” Merrick shouted back, quickly hopping off Chase and adjusting his clothes.

Chase watched all of his tentacles slither back out of sight and slumped defeatedly back on the floor.

Merrick was refusing to look at Chase, and his tone was eerily flat when he spoke again. “We are never discussing any of this. None of it. If you do, I will request an immediate transfer and wipe your memory.”

“Right.” Chase remained on the floor while his heart crumbled. He didn’t even have it in him to point out the hypocrisy of threatening to wipe his brain when Merrick had chastised Loch for doing the same thing.

He was too miserable.

“Get up.” Merrick glanced out into the hallway, dropping his voice down to a soft hiss. “Get up, they are here.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because my dick is not connected to my heart, and it is currently stuck to my fuckin’ thigh. If I stand up, it’s gonna be more than a little obvious that—”

“I do not require any additional details!” Merrick jerked his head away. “I will stall them while you handle your anatomy.”

“I’ll get up in a damn second.” Chase had a great joke all lined up about Merrick helping him handle it, but he decided to keep it to himself. He wasn’t in the mood anyway.

Once his erection subsided, he retrieved his hat and joined Merrick in the living room with the other officers to help coordinate their efforts. There wasn’t much for him to actually do since Merrick was currently in overachiever mode and barking orders left and right.

The scene was secured, and Milo arrived to start cataloging all the evidence. Sloane must have told him the truth about Merrick because Milo kept staring and giving him and Chase a lot of eyebrow waggles and knowing smiles.

Daisy was still back at the lab working on the factory case, and Milo gave them a quick update. It wasn’t much, only that they hadn’t been able to match any of the other prints, but they might have a lead on one of the paintings.

Apparently, according to Daisy’s examination, it was a fake.

Chase tried to stay focused on the work at hand and tell Milo how fascinating all of that was, but he couldn’t think clearly.

Merrick liked him too. He liked him a lot if that kiss was anything to go by. But how the hell could he tell Merrick how he really felt if they couldn’t talk about it?

He didn’t doubt Merrick would follow through on his threats to transfer, but….

“Are you ready?” Merrick asked bluntly.

“What?” Chase blinked out of his stupor.

“Are you ready?” Merrick nodded at the front door. “There is nothing else we can do here, and I want to speak to your nephew.”

“Right.” Chase cleared his throat. “Can’t wait.”

Chase gave Merrick directions to where his nephew lived, a modest apartment complex near one of the city’s museums. The drive over was deathly silent, and Chase couldn’t decide what was fueling his anxiety more, thinking about his kiss with Merrick or having to see Ollie again.

“I will do the talking,” Merrick said firmly as they stood in front of Ollie’s door.

“Knock yourself out,” Chase mumbled, standing off to the side to stay out of the way.

Merrick held his head high and knocked.

Ollie answered the door, his eyes still half-closed as if he had been sleeping. He was only wearing a pair of pajama pants, and his curly red hair was particularly fluffy.

“Hello,” Merrick said in his most official voice. “My name is Detective Merrick, and I am here on behalf of the—”

Ollie’s eyes suddenly bugged out, and he screamed. It was a blood-curdling screech, a sound of absolute terror, and he slammed the door right in Merrick’s face.

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” Chase quipped, “that went well.”