Demon Dogs (Wildcat Wizard Book 3)

by Al K. Line

  She'd flit in and out of my life for no apparent reason, often leaving at crucial moments and returning when the problems I got involved in were dealt with. Yet here she was, staying with me, unmoving for what must have been many hours.

  It was getting dark outside, so I got up and closed the curtains. "You didn't have to stay," I said, wondering why she had.

  "I wanted to. You seemed so peaceful in your sleep, and you needed it." Sasha rose and arched her back, tight fabric rippling across a perfect figure, faery dust sprinkling onto the carpet. "Did you dream nice dreams?"

  "No, no dreams, just sleep. A perfect mini-death." I had been out of it for hours, lulled by her presence, and immediately felt bad for not running around looking for Vicky. "Damn, George will be wondering where I am. And I bet I've missed dinner."

  "I called her, don't worry."

  "But she's alone."

  "Arthur, she is almost a grown woman. I think she can make herself something to eat."

  "Hmm, maybe, but have you seen what she cooks? She can't even boil an egg without burning it."

  "How do you burn a boiled egg?"

  "I have no idea, but she manages it. I should be there."

  "She understands. You have to help Vicky. But I'll go and watch her, just so you know she is safe. How does that sound?"

  "Great. Thanks for being with me today, and for the rest."

  "You looked so innocent lying there. Like a child."

  "Sasha, I've been called many things in my life, but innocent isn't one of them."

  "That's because they don't know you like I do, Arthur. Now, get some coffee, clear your head, and go and bring our friend back." With a final smile Sasha was gone.

  I shook my limbs out and stretched a little to get the blood flowing, then made instant coffee. Sitting in my living room, I drank slowly and tried to get a handle on the situation but not a lot came of it. There were more questions than answers and all I could focus on was finding her, the rest could wait. Would she be prowling the city, lost and scared, or hunting and wild? Or would she be home, back to being Vicky and making lame excuses to her husband and kids.

  Damn, he'd be frantic by now. Would he have called the police? That was the last thing we needed. No, we'd cleaned up the house, so he'd assume she'd done it. I checked my phone, still on mute, read the messages then checked voicemail. Ivan and the Slug, both asking after Vicky. I had nothing to tell either of them, nothing that would help. They'd both have to wait and hopefully I could bring this to a resolution, although I knew it wouldn't be a happy one.

  Thinking better of it, I messaged the Slug and told him Vicky was okay, that she'd be home soon and not to worry. My finger hovered over the send button but I changed my mind and deleted it. What was the point? This wouldn't make things better, it would probably make them worse. He'd be imagining all kinds of things but he knew she was with me so he'd be thinking the worst anyway.

  What a bloody mess. I should have never let her get involved in any of this. Yet she needed it, or had needed it. I had no doubt she would have lost the plot otherwise, her frustration boiling over in the worst way possible.

  Maybe part of why she'd changed was because of frustration, it finally finding a way to vent, just in a way neither of us had imagined.

  I drained my coffee, cleaned up the kitchen and even straightened cushions in the living room, a delaying tactic as I had no clue where to go. Finally there were no more excuses so I locked up the house, double-checked the wards, and then went to find an injured werewolf in a city where the sensible were safe in their houses and the wizards and the law breakers were just now coming to life. The night was ours, time for the real city to awaken.

  It was cool outside, a change from recent weeks, and it was welcome. Fresh air hit my face and eddied under my shirt, caressing me with a shivery breeze and a promise of autumn.

  I liked the colder days, I didn't look so odd wearing a hat then. In the car, I wound the windows down and drove through the city, checking alleys and the dark places for a monster that needed my help whether she knew it or not.

  A Meeting

  I drove for hours, looking anywhere I thought likely, searching for signs of her passing, sinking deep inside myself to summon magic that allowed me to see beyond the shallow pool of what passes for reality. There was nothing. No whispers of the passing of something strange, no telltale hints of magic or anything that suggested the city had a new addition to the magical community. I didn't have a good enough link to the wolf to track it and yet I should have been able to pick up something, a weak suggestion of her presence, but I came up empty.

  I checked shifter hangouts, not asking but skirting the areas for a sign of anything amiss. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I thought about contacting Steve to see if he'd heard anything but thought better of it. The less people that knew about Vicky the better. It would be her decision who she told, if anyone, and I knew she wouldn't appreciate me exposing her in this way without her approval.

  Frustrated beyond belief, I parked up in the city center and walked through the back alleys just to satisfy myself she wasn't here, but knew it was an excuse. I had no place to go and no leads to follow up on. Without realizing it, I found I'd walked to the church I'd gone into for the first time only recently, and sat on a bench across the street to stare at the strange, squat building. God couldn't help me though, this was on me.

  "You're a hard man to track down, Arthur," said Nathan, making no effort to hide his approach.

  "And I wasn't even wearing my ninja slippers. What do you want?" I asked with a sigh, in no mood for him or his games.

  "A final offer, to make up for my rather rash judgment concerning the book."

  "Rash judgment? Oh, you mean when you ordered your men to kill me because you knew I'd never be in your pocket?"

  "I concede the point, but you brought it on yourself."

  "No, you want to control me and you hate that I won't give in. I'll never be on your side, so leave me alone. You know, Nathan, I was going to kill you for what you did. If, er, things hadn't come up that were more important then you'd be dead now."

  "Oh, haha, don't kid yourself. I'm not an easy man to kill, and trust me, many have tried. No, Arthur, you are the one lucky to still be alive. I admit, I was somewhat peeved and decided to cut my losses with you, but, well, things are different now, aren't they?"

  I turned to Nathan and studied him, wondering how it was he could do what he did. He was an emotionless man, a pure psychopath, but I guess that was the personality ideally suited to secretly running our country. Someone unconcerned with dealing with the darker sides of things, a man willing to do whatever it took when the stakes were high.

  His lack of empathy, his utter lack of concern for life if he felt his actions served Cerberus, made him ideal for running the show, and his intelligence certainly made him a capable man. And he knew. I could see it in his face, in his faint smile and the way he waited for me to catch up with what he was telling me.

  "Things are different," I agreed. "But not in a way that will ever make me change my mind about you and your bunch of freaks."

  "We shall see. The offer still stands. Work for us, bring us certain items, help us find others, and you and your mutt can both live."

  My hand was at his throat in a flash, no time for him to react. Magic pulsed down the muscles and activated them in a way that hurt like hell, fibers stretching, the fascia almost splitting as unnatural power gave me incredible strength, more than enough to crush him with my one hand. "I should just kill you now and be done with it," I hissed. "You dare talk about my friend that way? I don't care what you know, or what you think you know, you don't get to talk about her like that."

  I honestly don't know why I didn't just kill him then, but I released him and he bent forward, coughing and spluttering, face red and angry.

  "When you find her, think about it. You and her will make a formidable team, Arthur. I could never understand why you allowed her to tag along
with you, but now it all makes sense. You're smarter than I'd believed." Nathan stood with a push on his cane and stared down at me, cold and emotionless once again. "Goodbye, and please consider this. I won't offer again. If you deny me now we won't be having a nice conversation like this when we next meet."

  "You bet we won't."

  Nathan hobbled off and I decided not to tell him I'd had no clue Vicky was a death machine once a month, that I'd let her be a part of Team Hat because she was my friend and would have ended up in a hospital with her mind lost and her eating disorders out of control, her body frail and shutting down, if I hadn't let her become my annoying sidekick. Let him think I had known all along. Never pass up the opportunity to appear smarter than you are, especially to your enemy.

  Peace shattered, I decided I'd better go see Ivan and see if he could help.

  That Tingly Feeling

  It was obvious something was wrong when I got a tingly feeling in my pocket, my wand vibrating and screaming for me to spray magic in all directions. That and the bodies. Goons and vampires littered the derelict wasteland around the factory, and they hadn't died peacefully. As I got closer to the stairs that led up to Ivan's new lair, a weak glow that spilled over the side railing revealed the extent of the carnage.

  All around the area were bodies in various states of wholeness, some with throats torn out, others with limbs seemingly ripped from their bodies. Tattered flesh looked strangely fake as no matter how many times you witness such scenes your mind always wants to make sense of it in a way that won't make you puke.

  The guards positioned at various points around the grounds had seemingly come running to deal with the intruder but had been no match for the beast. Clearly Vicky hadn't changed back.

  At the base of the steps were more men, and I had to climb over them to get up. At the top, just outside the door, was the big guy Vicky had played games with in the dirt, but this time the games had been for higher stakes.

  He was leaning back against the railing, breathing shallow and face waxy, staring down at his soaked shirt with his hands clasped to the bloodied material like he was pregnant and just resting.

  "It was her, I saw it. She was this thing, then for a moment I saw her face. Crazy."

  He was almost gone, like his mind hadn't quite caught up to what his body already knew. I nodded to him and put a hand on his shoulder, a weak gesture but better than nothing in his last moments. He smiled at me, almost as if to say his life hadn't been so bad, and maybe it hadn't. His arms dropped to his sides, all strength gone, exposing the shredded shirt and the numerous slashes through his abdomen. He was eviscerated. As he leaned forward and coughed, his guts slumped out of his belly and plopped to the concrete.

  His eyes widened in shock and then he died, thankfully, keeling over sideways. He hit the railing then flipped over to land on the ground below with a loud thud. Sidestepping the gross mess on the floor, I eased open the unlocked door and stepped into what might well have been a short future.

  Lights shone weakly in the warehouse, angled from the mezzanine to light the gantry. There were more bodies close to the door, others down below, but the action was far from over. I was in time to see the utterly desperate acts of men unused to dealing with what had come to visit.

  A smartly suited goon whipped a gun around as a blur of fur sprang from the gantry floor onto the railing and leaped across the divide at an angle. The wolf snapped down hard on his arm, tearing the gun out of his hand along with several fingers.

  He screamed, but the sound was cut off in an instant as the beast's mouth clamped down hard on his face, ripping away his lips and nose. Frenzied, the thing that housed Vicky slashed with gore-covered claws at his shoulder, dragged him down, then snapped again, deep into his throat. His legs spasmed a few times and then he was still.

  The creature turned as I approached, snarling and wild. The sight of her in this state was a shock. More of Vicky's regular flesh was visible than before, the fur patchier and even more matted. Her whole body was like a half and half hybrid, either trying to go full wolf or full human, I wasn't sure which, but it was her face that was the worst. It was stretched and disfigured, the nose almost normal but the snout still long and stained dark. But the eyes, they'll haunt me for eternity. They were Vicky's eyes, brown and deep and sad beyond belief. Pleading for help but unable to ask for it, wild and dangerous, scared and angry, confused and violent, trapped and searching for freedom.

  She was in there but she was close to insane, and who wouldn't be? She was neither human nor animal. Her twin natures fought some terrible inner battle to find peace in one form or another. She wanted help and she wanted to rest, and she'd been drawn here because she knew Ivan was her blood and maybe he'd have answers or be able to help.

  "You have to make the choice, Vicky. You have to come back to yourself. It's over, nowhere else to go. Please, you must fight it and beat it."

  Vicky growled and crouched low, her body shaking and her ears twitching. Tears fell but I could see she would try to kill me, that she was under a spell of madness and animal bloodlust. Most of her didn't even know why she was here or that she'd sought salvation and a way out of her hellish prison.

  Vicky's muscles bunched as she readied to attack. There was a sound behind her and she turned as the office door opened. There he stood. Ivan.

  He removed his jacket without a word, undid and discarded his tie. Took off his shoes, his socks, and continued until he was naked.

  "My sister," he said, and smiled as he dropped to all fours. His bones cracked, his body stretched, fur sprouted from his spasming flesh, and he transformed into the image of his sister.

  Odd One Out

  There's not much worse than being confronted by a werewolf on a narrow gantry with no chance of escape before being eaten. Apart from being confronted by two such creatures. What's even worse is being confronted by two such creatures when one is also a vampire.

  As the two beasts snarled first at each other then me, I couldn't help wondering if I'd be turned vampire if Ivan bit me in his animal form. Did it still work that way? As far as I understood, it wasn't merely the bite of the vampire that turned you, but also the intent. And, although this was where it got sketchy, I was now pretty sure the maker had to give his own blood too, although I hoped to remain ignorant of all the facts, at least from firsthand experience.

  Ivan moved silently from his office to the trembling form of Vicky, and she turned away from me to confront him head-on rather than whipping her head back and forth between the two of us. She snarled and snapped and her hackles rose but it was obvious she was no match for him and that her strength had gone.

  She could barely stand now. Her legs shook uncontrollably and her body was constantly readjusting, bones creaking like a house settling for the night. Her wound was terribly infected and her whole side from the shoulder down her front leg and across her chest was criss-crossed with black veins. The skin was purple, livid red at the entry point.

  Ivan ignored me and approached Vicky, proud and strong and domineering. She lay down and rolled onto her back in utter submission. He moved closer until looming over her, and could have taken her out in a heartbeat. The massive man-wolf bent his powerful head and sniffed her face and she did likewise, then he turned and padded back to the open door, picking up the discarded clothes in his mouth. He dropped them inside then spun and barked once before taking several steps backward.

  The bedraggled, exhausted Vicky slowly got to her feet and followed him in. Ivan watched, impassive, then looked at me with cold eyes before moving forward and pushing the door closed with his snout.

  "Don't fucking think so," I muttered to myself and carefully made my way across the gantry to the door, not trying to go in, but waiting a moment to gather myself for whatever nightmare was to come.

  It didn't help, I was nervous as hell. I was about to enter a room occupied by a vampire shifter and a demented werewolf, but my nights were never easy so I could at least take comf
ort in that. I nudged open the door, eased in, then closed it gently behind me.

  There were no monsters inside, just Ivan and Vicky. He was singing to her quietly, more humming than words. He was squatting beside her, trousers on, shirt covering his disfigured torso. Ivan tried to put his jacket over Vicky but every time the material rested on her skin she moaned and shook it off. He didn't stop his tune, kept trying with the jacket, and slowly she stopped fighting him but refused the cover.

  She was more damaged than I'd thought. Every inch of her was bloodied and bruised, her pale flesh running a gamut of colors, the skin flushed pink from the infection spread through her system. Lumps and bumps, bruises, cuts, and abrasions were the worst on her forearms but nowhere was there undamaged flesh. The gunshot to her shoulder was festering, pus and ruptured skin oozing around the crater of a black hole, and she winced every time she shivered.

  Her breathing became shallow and her chest hardly moved. Exhaustion, utter and total, had taken her while the fever raged. I went to her and bent down but I don't think she knew I was there. Maybe for a moment as her eyes fluttered open and she smiled, but it was a distant smile and could have meant anything. I put a hand to her head; she was burning hot and I sensed the extent of her injuries as magic flowed through my fingers.

  There was nothing I could do for her, though, this was too much damage and besides, I wasn't a healer. I was a destroyer of things. If the injuries were mine I could have healed myself, but it didn't work like that for others no matter how dearly I wanted it to.

  "She's going to die," said Ivan, looking me in the eye even as his tears fell.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was her, how could I?"

  "None of us knew. I don't know how she is my sister, but she is. So strange to think she's been here all this time, all these years and I never knew. The final irony."