Angel Eyes (Wildcat Wizard Book 4)

by Al K. Line

  The night was fierce with heat and fire, but I saw nobody.

  Not a good sign.

  It was kind of sad to think Ivan was gone. He had his faults, and there were plenty of them, but he was better than any other boss before him, better than what would come next, I was sure. Plus, I almost liked him, and he was Vicky's family. Hell, he didn't even know what had happened, did he? What Vicky had done? Guess he never would now.

  I squinted at the flames, at the collapsed building as the fire began to burn itself out. Already there was little flammable remaining, just steel and brick.

  I watched, half surprised, half not, as a black silhouette strode out from the flames.

  Ivan was scorched black, his hair gone along with his clothes, but as he marched forward, leaving the conflagration behind, and as ash fell and fire crackled, his skin healed, his hair grew back, just stubble, and by the time he reached me he was whole for the most part. His skin shone strangely, too pink and raw, and he looked funny without the nice hair, but he was okay.

  "Damn, perks of being a vampire."

  "Maybe, but it really hurts." Ivan screamed, his face locked in a spasm of pain, and he toppled forward, the shock of it all too much for his mind to take even if his body had handled it.

  He still held the book.

  "This bloody book," I moaned, and, call it intuition, call it just what I didn't want to happen, or my wizardly luck kicking in, I dropped down flat next to Ivan's steaming body as an angel of immortal persistence swept over us.

  Miffed that Ivan had been so badly damaged, and cursing the book, the angel, and everything else in my life, I whipped out old faithful and let the magic surge. Forked death spasmed from the wand and flared bright as it arced and crackled into the fiery night. But even when it hit the angry cloud of the semi-formed angel all it did was splat it into smaller wispy clouds that coalesced angrily, slamming tight into each other as if for strength.

  I tried something different, sending a volley of small balls of darkest intent at Aurelius, not so much blasts as packets of absence of anything, magic that few could use, and even fewer successfully. As pockets of emptiness littered the air like miniature black holes, I thought maybe I'd found a way to defeat this immortal being. Small sections of the spreading cloud spun wildly, spiraling around and into the emptiness I created, but then the ripples reversed and spat out what had been consumed. Then, suddenly, my magic was gone, sucked away by something beyond such parlor tricks.

  Even though I knew it was futile, I had to try, and I had to stay calm. I let a stillness wash over me as I stood amid the heat and flame and an angel whizzed angrily about my head. The calmer I grew, the more spread out the cloud of Aurelius became, dispersing like mist evaporating on a summer's day. I wondered if maybe he'd soon dissipate entirely, or at least be utterly ineffective. But then he drew power from somewhere, maybe from Ivan who was groaning on the ground, back from the dead.

  Then he was solid, and he was there above me in all his celestial glory. Wings spread wide, arms outstretched, legs tight together, like the perfect Vitruvian man, just with feathers and nicer hair. He descended without a single strand of that lovely hair blowing out of place or a feather being ruffled, like the real world didn't count for him.

  He alighted right onto Ivan's back. Bone crunched, Ivan gasped, his eyes went wide, and he screamed.

  Aurelius grinned at me with perfect teeth like whitewashed tombstones, then lifted his head to stare at the stars. He raised his arms higher as if calling down heavenly forces, and damn if the bloody world didn't implode. Everything was white. White blinding my eyes, white noise making my ears ring, everything all soft and like cotton wool had been stuffed inside me.

  Then I was back to my senses, feeling alien and out of my body, as though I'd been touched by something truly timeless and godlike. I shook my head to get the thoughts moving and then I lost the use of my legs. I ended up prone before Aurelius, kneeling on the ashes of the destruction he'd caused, helpless to resist. I fell forward, even though I swear I didn't want to. His power was at its peak, the chaos and violence of the chase for the book having reached a crescendo.

  Aurelius looked down on me and I looked up at him, knowing this was over.

  Ivan was out cold, unaware of what was happening. Aurelius ground a foot into his back; he could crush him like a bug if he wanted to, kill him for good.

  With no other choice, I grabbed the undamaged book from Ivan's hand, and scrabbled to my feet.

  "Okay, fine, you win," I shouted. "Have the bloody thing." I waved the book in the air and waited.

  Aurelius shot up like a celestial rocket then swept down from the sky, silhouetted by flame, and landed delicately beside Ivan. His wings folded and he held out his hand. I reached forward with the book, and as he took hold our fingers touched.

  With my other hand in my pocket, I turned the dial, focused real hard, trying to get as clear an image as possible, then leapt forward as the portal opened silently behind this most insistent nemesis, pushing Aurelius and myself through.

  I landed on top of him, but jumped to my feet before he had chance to understand what had happened. I turned to Carmichael, sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone, a bandage over his nose, and said, "Don't say I never give you anything." Moments later, well before anyone had time to do much of anything apart from gawp, I was outta there, leaving the angel behind.

  Let 'em work it out between them. They obviously had a history, whatever that was, and I felt sure that at least they'd both be out of my hair for a while. It was all over in a second, and then I was twiddling again and back at the factory, bending over Ivan to check he would make it.

  Feeling strangely apprehensive, I rolled him over. He was fine. From a height higher than strictly necessary, I dropped the book onto his belly, nodded at the goons converging on him, and told them, "Tell Mikalus The Hat always delivers."

  Then I walked away, again, and this time I didn't turn around, just kept walking all the way back to my semi, removing my sim as I walked. I went in, stepped through the portal, drove home, and it was only as I pulled up at the farmhouse that I remembered I could have used the Teleron.

  But I was a creature of habit, and I liked my gates. Plus, to be honest, the Teleron freaked me out too much. It wasn't like I knew how my gates worked, but they were big, and solid, and we had history. The Teleron just felt a little too much like taking chances, and you know me, I don't like taking risks.

  Boots off, wards checked, I wandered wearily into the kitchen.

  George was up, coffee was brewing.

  "You look awful. And is that smoke I smell?" she asked.

  "Yeah, but it's not mine. Same as last time."

  "Busy night?"

  "Usual. Pour us a coffee, there's a love."

  George poured me a coffee and brought it over to the table. I sipped, letting the bitterness scald my throat. "Aah, that's so good."

  "Better drink up, it's going to be a loud morning."

  "Huh?"

  "Our guests," she said.

  And with that, I heard Vicky shouting at the girls, the girls running around, having obviously taken to wearing traditional wooden Dutch clogs, and then they stomped down the stairs like two baby elephants.

  Hell came to my kitchen in the form of a stressed, haggard looking mother, and two children who wanted cereal, and toast, and sticky things on said toast. Now, right now.

  Purgatory truly is having untidy house guests. It's the worst.

  Here Goes

  I pushed open the door, feeling sick to my stomach. My guts churned, threatening to erupt in the nastiest of ways. Sharp pains stabbed at my stomach as though an evil wizard was prodding me right through with a fizzing wand.

  The little bell above the door jangled and with it my nerves. I jumped, glanced up, and muttered something foul under my breath. As the door closed behind me, I removed my hat and wiped at my sweating brow. Bloody hell, I hadn't felt so scared since that time I found myself
staked out in a forest in deepest Sumatra while a local witch doctor danced around me in his birthday suit and giant red ants direct from the Nolands clicked their mandibles and headed for my private parts that were, against all protestations, coated with honey.

  In fact, this was worse. I felt my testicles shrink up so small and tight I wondered if they'd ever drop down again, and as I put my hat back on I noticed my hands were shaking. I glanced around the small coffee shop, and waved awkwardly at Candy who looked up, nodded at me, then returned to whatever she was doing behind the counter.

  "Arthur, hey, over here, mate." Steve nodded at me from a table jammed against the wall by the front window, all smiles and casual good looks.

  I wandered over, every step feeling like I was sinking into quicksand. "Hey, Steve, how's it going?" I asked.

  "Fine, mate. You all right? Looking a bit green there. Been a busy night?"

  "Um, no, not really. Not busy I mean. I'm feeling just dandy." Dandy? Who the hell says dandy? Not wizards in their forties, that's for sure. "Um, look, sorry to hear about you not keeping the job with the vampires. Ivan said he just wanted to cut out the middleman."

  "Yeah, gotta say, I was pissed when he told me. But it's all good," he said brightly. "Got something better going on. This rich dude needed a bodyguard. Dabbles in a bit of the old magic, and some collecting, and he pays real good. I should hook you up some time, he's always on the lookout for anything interesting."

  "Yeah, sounds good," I said, distracted by Candy stacking cups and saucers.

  "You sure you're okay? You're really jumpy." Steve, badger shifter and probably the closest thing I had to a real guy friend, leaned forward, checking me out.

  All I could think of was how handsome he was, how well groomed. With his hipster hairstyle and beard with more product than I felt was right, his casual manliness, the way his shirt hung and the way his jeans hugged muscular legs, it all made me realize how unkempt and scrawny I was.

  I'd tried to spruce myself up, I really had. Showered, tamed the stubble, brushed my hair, even wore a nice brown shirt, and some jeans that cost way more than was right for simple denim sewn together, but the end result was the same. I was creased of clothes and face, looked like someone had stuck a nice hat and shirt on a scarecrow, and there was nothing I could do about it. This was me, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Sometimes I hated mirrors.

  "Hello? Earth to Arthur." Steve waved a hand and I came back to myself.

  "Sorry."

  "Mate, you zoned out. You must be shattered. Not sleeping well?"

  "Do I ever? Look, I need to have a word with Candy. But let's catch up soon, it's been too long. Weeks. Let's go grab a drink, or get something to eat? Sound good?"

  "Yeah, sure thing, mate. I missed you actually. Haha." Steve pushed a hand through his hair; it glided with ease. If I tried that I'd spend the rest of the day trying to get my fingers back.

  "Me too. I'll call." With a nod, I wandered off, wondering why it was so easy to make a date with a buddy but what I was about to do felt like the worst thing in the world.

  The short walk, no more than a few steps from Steve to the counter, felt like a trek across a desert. My mouth went dry, my legs turned to jelly, and my guts really began to play up in earnest.

  I struggled on, cursing and muttering to myself about how pathetic I was for stressing over such a simple thing. I was a man in my forties, I had a teenage daughter, I was a fucking wildcat wizard. A tough guy who beat down anyone who disrespected him. A man who had fought monsters without his heartbeat rising, who had killed more men and supernatural creatures than he could count, who had a bloody wand for crying out loud. Who owned not one, but two teleporters, who had more cash than he could spend, a very nice hat, and a lovely kitchen.

  Get it together, Arthur, she'll just say no and you can laugh it off, say you understand as you're old and creased and she's young and gorgeous, and you can have a coffee and get over yourself.

  At the counter, I stood there like a right lemon while Candy finished stacking crockery. I admired her bum in her tight black trousers, the way her hair fell on her shoulders, lost to dreams of what was beneath the white blouse, imagining touching her pale skin, and the delights of her warm body.

  "You meeting someone? Ivan didn't say." Candy had finished and was staring at me funny. I must have zoned out again.

  To say I got little sleep was an understatement, and it was only because Vicky and the girls were driving me so insane I wanted to scoop my brains out with a spoon that I'd even come at all.

  "Me and Ivan are no longer business partners. Too full of surprises for my liking."

  "Really? I thought you loved all that stuff." Candy's eyes sparkled, blue and clear, as inviting as a deep pool during a heatwave. Scary too. She was intense, confident, and a little intimidating. I loved it.

  "Um, maybe." The silence extended, just a second or two but it felt like a lifetime.

  "You okay? You look a funny color. Been on a job?"

  "No, just slept badly. And Vicky and the girls aren't the quietest, or tidiest of house guests. I like my kitchen to sparkle, now it smells of sour milk and I keep finding weird things in odd places."

  "Weird like what?"

  "It said cheese on the packet, but it was shaped like a long spiral, and it was stuck under the table. I found the head of a doll, a very scary doll, in my dishwasher, and you should see my fridge. It's got strange stuff in it. Stuff in cartons and stuff with pictures of cartoon characters. Makes me feel old."

  "Haha, that's kids for you. It's a good thing you did, Arthur, Vicky told me all about it. She's having a hard time, shame her husband went and got himself killed like that. You're a good friend."

  Vicky had told Candy part of the story but obviously not all of it. She was still an utter mess after just a few days, but she was a survivor, her kids too.

  "Maybe. But I'm running out of tea towels."

  "A man after my own heart. I like things clean too."

  "Yeah, I noticed. You wipe the counters more than I do."

  Candy smiled at me, and I smiled back at her. It was now or never. I opened my mouth to blurt out something stupid and that I'd instantly regret but the door opened and a customer walked in.

  I stepped aside while Candy served him. I honestly thought I was going to have a heart attack.

  A Big Question

  Candy wiped down the counter with a clean cloth after her customer had been served, then she leaned on her elbows and stared at me. The corners of her mouth were turned up in a bemused half-smile.

  "Damn, you're scary."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "And gorgeous."

  "I bet you say that to all the girls." She fluttered her eyelashes playfully, and I nearly lost what little control of my limbs I had left.

  "I don't, I really don't. Look, um, I know I come across as a bit of a wise-ass. That I act like a bit of a... a..."

  "A bit of an arrogant asshole?"

  "Ugh, sorry. Do I really?"

  "Sometimes. But mostly you're okay. You could do with toning down the intensity, but I guess that's just the way you are."

  "Yeah, intense. Um, anyway, just wanted to say thanks for letting me use the place to deal with Ivan, I appreciate it."

  "You're welcome. It's not like he didn't pay for the privilege." Candy took a half step back and put her hands on her wide, gorgeous hips. "Terrible at this, aren't you?" Smiling, she pushed her hair behind her ears and tugged her earlobe. I got palpitations.

  "No, sorry. Um, I mean yes. Ugh, shall I start again?"

  "If you like."

  "And stop teasing me, I'm finding it hard to stay standing here."

  "I didn't do a thing," she said, winking at me as she licked her lips. Goddamn!

  I repeated a mantra silently as I studied her lovable face. Do not stare at her chest. Do not notice she has two buttons undone. Do not blow this. Candy just watched me, looking more amused by the second.

  "Okay, look, he
re it is. I'm not a young dude, I'm kind of well worn, I'm trouble on legs. And I don't know the first thing about current music or movies or fashion or much that doesn't involve magic and gangsters."

  "You sure know how to sell it."

  "I know, right?" I said with a smile, "Who could resist?"

  Candy frowned and I hurried on. "Sorry, there I go again. It's a defense mechanism when I'm nervous. I say stupid shit."

  "I didn't think you got nervous. You, the heroic slayer of bad guys and all things supernatural." She looked genuinely surprised, but just goes to show.

  "You'd be shocked at just how bad I'm feeling right now. I honestly thought about calling for an ambulance, my heart is going so crazy."

  "Then spill it, mister. If you're going to ask what I think you're going to ask."

  "That depends on whether you think I was going to ask you on a date, or, er, something else."

  "Guess it does." Candy grinned; she really was making me squirm here.

  "Candy, oh most beautiful woman I have ever met. Delight in a coffee shop. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me for a nice meal one evening so we can get to know each other better?"

  "Why, when you flatter a girl like that, who could resist? I'd love to."

  I let out a breath I think I'd been holding since I walked in the place, and said, "You would?"

  "Sure, I like you. You're pretty hot, you know?"

  "I am?"

  "You are. All rugged and manly and like you know a thing or two." Candy's eyes sparkled. I don't think she was talking about knowing how to get a good table at a restaurant, although I knew how to do that too.

  "Well, I have been around a while, learned a few tricks."

  "Just one proviso."

  "Okay," I said warily.

  "Promise me you won't try to impress me. Just be yourself, no pretense."

  "Honestly, I don't know any other way."

  "Good, because neither do I. What you see is what you get."

  I was about to say something stupid about liking what I saw and that I couldn't wait to get it, but figured that would be one of those things you say that gets you a slap and a canceled date, so instead I asked, "How about tonight?"