‘Hey, you are a very attractive cat. You’ve got a good figure, uh, for a cat obviously. I don’t know how you keep yourself in shape when you hardly ever leave the flat.’
‘Good breeding,’ Faline replied. You could just about hear the smile.
Westminster, July 8th.
‘Any luck finding the Skinwalker I found?’ Nisa asked. They had been going over what the creatures were like in some detail, given that there was one in the city, possibly in the area Nisa lived in.
‘Nothing else has come up,’ Kellog replied. ‘It could have left London entirely. They have a compulsion to murder, but they prefer to pick their targets so they can go for months without showing themselves. And if it’s stolen that girl’s face then it might be better for it to hide somewhere she was not known.’
‘And we still don’t know who she was?’
He shook his head. ‘DNA came back with nothing. If she used a dentist we haven’t found one yet. They’re doing a facial reconstruction to see if they can find her that way, but it’ll take some time.’
‘And in the meantime it could be finding someone else to steal.’
‘There’s not much we can do about it, Nisa. We have to be realistic. Unfortunately, some of them get away. Quite a lot, actually, given that we probably only discover twenty per cent of their crimes.’
‘What’s the resolution rate?’
‘Thirty-eight per cent of discovered crimes.’
Nisa’s eyebrows went up. ‘That’s, like, almost double the average for resolution in the force.’
‘We generally have a smaller list of suspects and some tools the normal constabulary can only dream of. Hopefully, with you on board, we can push that up higher. But that requires you to finish the basic training.’
‘Okay,’ Nisa agreed, holding up her hands. ‘What’s next?’
‘Selkies,’ Kellog said, clicking up a picture of a naked woman lying on a rock.
‘Really, Kellog? Porn in the workplace?’
‘Note the seal skin lying beside her. We don’t see them much around here and they generally do no harm, but it’s wise to know them when you see them…’
Nisa suppressed a sigh and settled down to listen. The man did not seem to have any form of sense of humour and she wondered briefly whether something had made him that way or he was just naturally a killjoy.
Tower Hamlets, July 10th.
‘Seriously?!’ Nisa exclaimed, and Faline glanced up at the book she was reading, gave a short meow and went back to lying on her paws.
‘I found this chapter entitled “love spells” in the witchcraft book, and what it really is is… sex aids.’
‘You were expecting something to make someone fall in love with you? Aside from you not needing such a charm, Nisa, it’s considered unethical under most circumstances.’
‘Oh, well, I guess… But listen to this: “Gentleman’s Helper” which “promotes vigour and goodly stamina.” It’s magic Viagra!’
‘Indeed, and a very popular charm it is. Some of those “herbal remedies” you see advertised actually work. Check out the “Witch’s Best Friend” spell.’
Dreading what she might find, Nisa flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. ‘Grants unto the witch the sensation of being filled in every…’ Her voice trailed off until she got to, ‘It is not recommended to use this for longer than an hour for fear of heart failure! And people cast it?’
‘It was one of Jennifer’s favourites. Could we change the subject?’
‘Sure… That ethical thing. Could you use a love spell if… I don’t know, what about to save a marriage?’
‘It’s frowned upon. If there are children, then perhaps, but the other problem is that it rarely works. You can make someone love another person, or themselves, but emotions are complex things. If you twist one, who knows how the others will react. Make a man fall back in love with his wife and he may end up resenting his children, or harming his mistress, or just being miserable for the remainder of his life. Is that fair on anyone?’
‘No. No, I suppose… You can do pretty much anything with magic, but that doesn’t mean you should. That’s the basic idea?’
‘More or less, but there are some things that cannot be done. It is impossible to truly create or destroy something, for example. You always make something from something, or reduce something to its components. You can’t… make Easter not exist.’
‘Time travel isn’t possible.’
‘Exactly. But even what you can do needs to be considered before doing it.’ The cat gave a sound which could have been a laugh. ‘Though when have people ever considered the outcome of their actions thoroughly before acting? A spell or a gun, either way someone is dead and the person who did it almost certainly did not think it through.’
Tower Hamlets, July 12th.
It was all rather subjective, but Nisa had found some indications that crime increased around the full moon. That was based on a study by police in Sussex and she had not seen the full report, but they seemed to think it had an effect. A lot of other studies had tended to find that human behaviour was not affected by lunar cycles, though one sleep study had suggested that your sleep patterns were worse at the full moon. After the dreamcatcher expired, falling apart one day without warning, Nisa had decided to keep a journal of her nightmares to see if they followed a pattern.
All this was very interesting, but it made walking home from Black Light under a bright, white disc a little unnerving. Especially when it was violent crime that was supposed to be most affected. She closed the door on her flat with some relief, kicked off her boots, and padded through the small hallway into the lounge expecting to see Faline on the sofa. Faline was not there.
‘I’m home, Faline,’ she called out and started for the bedroom, pulling off her top as she went. There was no answering meow. Shrugging, she pushed open the bedroom door, turned on the light, and came to a grinding halt.
Crouched on the bed, looking nervous, even scared, was a naked woman. She was maybe five-foot-five, slim to the point of skinny, firmly muscled the way athletes are, long, tight muscles meant for sudden action, and her breasts were high, not large, and somewhat pointed. Her face was strange, oddly angular with a flattened nose, wide mouth, and a solid jawline. Her hair was black and fell around her neck though she had pushed it behind her ear on the right side. But the eyes… The eyes were a bright green, and the pupils were slits.
‘F-Faline?’ Nisa asked.
‘Yes, Nisa.’ She had a slight Cockney twang in her voice which was not there when they used the telepathy spell.
‘Y-you… You’re… You…’
‘I’m a Witch Cat, Nisa. At night, if I wish, I can become human.’
‘Then why haven’t you before? Wait, you’ve been dusting when I’m asleep.’
‘Uh… yes, and I don’t change often. I need to trust my companion. It was two years before I changed for Jennifer and the one before that never saw me like this.’
‘Then… why now? I’ve known you for a few weeks…’
‘It’s… embarrassing.’
Blinking, Nisa walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, twisting so that she could look at her… Could she go on thinking of Faline as a cat?
‘Every three months,’ Faline said, ‘at the full moon… I mean, the males are terrible. They want it all the time. If I were a tom you’d be sleep-deprived. It just happens when…’
‘You’re in heat!’ Nisa exclaimed.
Faline winced. ‘It’s a horrible term for it, but entirely too descriptive. I feel like I’m on fire. When she was younger, Jennifer used to help and then she would use that spell I showed you on me when she got old. As you say, we’ve just met really, but maybe you could work the spell and–’ She stopped as Nisa got to her feet and unbuttoned her shorts. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I did mention I hadn’t had any in ages, right?’ Nisa replied. ‘You’re hot and you’re probably really flexible, and I�
��m not missing the opportunity.’ Tossing her shorts into a corner, she sat down to strip off her stockings.
‘Oh,’ Faline said.
‘Not having second thoughts?’ Nisa asked her.
‘Not really having… thoughts.’
‘Good.’ Turning, Nisa pushed herself forward, driving Faline back until she was lying on her back, and then crawled on top. Their lips met, a light touch at first, and then Nisa’s tongue pressed the height advantage. Faline’s mouth was new territory: an alien place of odd dentition. There were the sharp canines and incisors, no molars. Faline’s tongue pressed back; smoother than her cat tongue, it was still hot and a little rough, and the thought of the cat-woman using it to probe more intimate places sent a shiver down Nisa’s spine.
Faline pushed up a little and Nisa broke the kiss. ‘I’m not human, but I need to breathe,’ Faline reminded her.
Nisa shifted her head to the side and kissed just below Faline’s left ear. ‘Breathing is for wimps,’ she whispered between kisses down her companion’s throat. She reached a hand down, finding Faline’s thigh and sliding over the smooth, dark skin.
The cat-woman’s breathing was becoming more ragged. ‘It’s been… almost a decade… longer…’
Nisa found the warm, wet space between Faline’s legs, pressed her fingers down, and began to circle digits over slick skin. ‘I can tell.’ Her mouth found a nipple, a very hard, erect nipple, and she began to suck on it. Faline let out a gasp which trailed into mewling noises that were more cat-like than human.
There was every chance, Nisa realised, that if she let her feline partner use that rough little tongue on her, there would be no controlling what happened, and it was Faline who was hurting, if that was the right word. Mutual satisfaction could wait. There was a groan of loss as Nisa pulled her lips and hand away from Faline’s body and then a squeal of delight as Nisa’s tongue slid over Faline’s labia. Fingers invaded, two were pushed deep, and Faline’s hips bucked in response. Faline’s hands gripped Nisa’s head, fingers pushing into her hair, pressing her down. Nisa had no intention of going anywhere anyway. Her tongue found the little button it was looking for and began to lap hungrily.
It took less than a minute: the Witch Cat really was very wound up. Suddenly she was making a sound like someone screaming through gritted teeth, her fingers tensed into claws around Nisa’s skull, and her body strained, her back arching off the bed as the orgasm roared through her.
Nisa crawled up the bed to lie beside her, licking her fingers and grinning. ‘Feeling better?’ she asked.
‘The… immediate… need… is gone,’ Faline gasped. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and added, ‘When I’m like this, the respite will be short-lived.’
‘Good. I want some, y’know? Uh, speaking of short-lived, how old are you? If it’s been ten years… I mean, a domestic cat is lucky to live that long.’
‘I was born in October of seventeen-fifty-six,’ Faline told her, ‘in a corner of Covent Garden. The old one, not the new one. Witch Cats don’t age so long as we have a magician to live with. We feed on the karmic taint, what wizards call Probrum, which you gain when doing magic.’
‘So I lose it faster with you around? That’s a plus.’ She giggled. ‘I can’t help but think we avoided considering the consequences here before acting.’
Faline pushed herself up onto one elbow and then slid down the bed. ‘Did I not mention that I was not really thinking at the moment?’ she said.
Any answer she might have got turned into a moan. Her tongue was as stimulating as Nisa had thought it might be.
Westminster, July 14th.
‘You’re looking tired,’ Kellog commented as Nisa walked into the break room to get coffee. Norbery was sitting beside him, wearing one of his customary grins.
Nisa headed straight for the machine. ‘Yeah, well… Turns out that Faline is more than just your average, superior cat…’
‘It was full moon on Saturday night,’ Norbery said, ‘of course.’
Coffee in hand, Nisa turned and glowered at him. ‘You knew?’
‘That she’s a Witch Cat? More of a surmise, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence that she should turn up like that. That the females get… enthusiastic every few months? Yes, that I knew. Not from personal experience; I’m a married man.’
‘I was curious to know how you’d react,’ Kellog said. ‘Apparently you’re taking it in your stride.’
Nisa grunted sourly and drank coffee.
‘It’s only for three or four nights once a quarter,’ Norbery told her. ‘If it had been a male we might have had to do something. Female magicians with male Witch Cats tend to be very sleep-deprived, especially if they’re as attractive as you.’
‘Thank you,’ Nisa grumped. ‘A little warning would have been nice, that’s all I’m saying. I could have been better prepared.’
‘Prepared?’
‘Yeah…’ Nisa’s lips twitched a little as she tried to maintain a straight face. ‘I need to buy a strap-on before October.’
Even Kellog’s cheeks reddened a little. Nisa chalked up a point for her side.
Tower Hamlets, July 16th.
There was still light in the sky, but the sun had set, and that seemed to be enough for whatever magic allowed Faline to change shape. She padded out of the bedroom, naked, but not looking as hungry as she had since Saturday.
‘I thought,’ the Witch Cat said, ‘that it would be easier to talk like this.’
‘Just talk?’ Nisa replied, closing her book.
‘I’m back to being normal, less lustful, Faline, and we should consider those consequences.’ Faline sat down on the sofa, curling up and resting her arms on the back cushions and her chin on her arms. It looked like an uncomfortable position, but she was very flexible.
Nisa stretched. ‘Does there have to be any? We fucked. In three months we’ll do it again, and maybe a few times before then. These days we call it “friends with benefits.”’
‘If you think we can get along like that, then that’s good for me. I’m not usually so, um, insistent.’
‘I think it’ll work.’ Nisa opened her book again, paused, and said, ‘The males, they’re really that bad all the time?’
‘No. We’re worse when we’re in season. Though… You are a very attractive young woman. I think you’re lucky I claimed you.’
‘Yeah,’ Nisa replied, not sure about the ‘claimed’ part, ‘I think I am.’
Part Three: The City Of Shadows
The City, London, August 4th, 2014.
Nisa looked through the railings at an old, tall, rather grand building nestled into a corner off Temple Place. King’s College London was just around the corner. Up the street was the Australian High Commission building. The river was close enough that she could smell it. But they were there so that she could see that particular building.
‘The High Temple of the Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame,’ Kellog said, keeping his voice to a level where anyone passing by would have lost it in the traffic noise. ‘That place is the main college of wizardry in the country.’
‘I’m going to assume that a tour isn’t on the cards,’ Nisa said. The building looked to be of Gothic design; there were arched windows and a lot of stone, but the upper storeys were brick. There was a tower at the back, away from the road.
‘It’s hard enough to get in there when we have an official reason for doing so,’ Kellog replied sourly. It was the most emotion she had ever heard in his voice. ‘They’re secretive, very secretive, and the new High Grand Master has made things worse rather than better.’
‘About ninety? Long, white beard? Dresses in robes? Maybe an Irish accent?’
‘Actually he’s not thirty yet. He was only twenty-one when he took over from the last one. English. Wears expensive suits and he has his hair cut at places we’d be thrown out of. His family has a lot of old money.’
‘You don’t like him, or them, much, do you?’
‘I don’t like them much, no, but that’s not why we’re here. Come on.’ He walked off up a narrow alley between the wall and railing which bordered the Temple grounds and another Gothic building, an art gallery. Nisa hurried after him; the man had long legs.
He stopped after maybe fifteen yards; up ahead of them was Milford Lane and the cut-through seemed to have been left in to join the two roads. People likely walked through it all the time, but it looked to Nisa as if someone had come to a sudden halt.
There was no body, but there was… the shadow of one. It looked like someone had airbrushed a shadow onto the white stone of the wall, or part of one, the lower half. It looked weird, but it could have been someone’s idea of a joke. A fairly sick joke.
‘Hiroshima,’ Nisa said quietly.
‘Sorry?’
‘The bomb vaporised people close to the detonation site, but if they were close to a wall it left a carbon shadow. This looks like one of those. Could be a Glitch. Could be a vandal.’
‘Anti-nuclear protest? A little vague, don’t you think?’
‘Yeah, but something capable of doing that to a human should have lit up half the city.’
‘Glitches,’ he reminded her, ‘don’t obey the rules. We’ll get Norbery to test the “residue” and see what he can find before it’s scrubbed off.’
Nisa nodded, her eyes on the shadow. There was something slightly odd about it and it took her a second to work it out. ‘It doesn’t touch the floor,’ she said and got a raised eyebrow. ‘It’s kind of like he was pushed through the railing, hard, and his feet lifted off the ground.’
‘Doesn’t that suggest some sort of blast?’
‘Yeah… maybe.’ She shuddered. ‘If it’s real, I don’t think it was a nice death.’
‘Death,’ Kellog replied, ‘is rarely nice, no matter how it happens.’
Westminster.
‘It’s not a carbonisation effect,’ Norbery said. ‘I currently have no idea what it is, but it’s not natural. We managed to scrape almost all of it off and there’s a measurable element of Probrum. We’ve put it down in the vault.’
Reality Hack Page 8
