Ash Addict Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Mighty Wizard

  Gritty Tongue

  Like a Little Kid

  Uninvited Guests

  Oh

  Freaking Out the Missus

  Straight to the Point

  Howling Hounds

  Bouncy Barrier

  Terrors in the Night

  Getting What I Wanted

  Back From the Depths

  I Am a Man

  Annoying

  A Nasty Smell

  Waiting

  More Surprises

  It Begins

  An Interruption

  Quick Murder

  A Familiar Feeling

  An Army Gathers

  An Interruption

  Odd, But Whatever

  Feeling Myself Again

  Honesty

  Secrets Told

  Somewhat Stressful

  Showing Who's Boss

  It Continues

  Home at Last

  Blurry Movement

  On Rapid Charge

  Off to War

  And So it Begins

  Super Speedy Pick Up

  Don't Do It

  Ninja Mode

  A Swarm of Wizards

  Breaking and Re-entering

  You Again

  Exciting

  Fun Cut Short

  Time to Reflect

  Naughty Oldies

  Unfinished Business

  Where I Punch Carmichael

  Onward

  Twice in One Night

  Shocking Flesh

  You Again

  Annoying Secrets

  Getting Somewhere

  Bit Obvious

  You Couldn't Make it Up

  Getting the Goods

  A Good Choice

  Told You

  Second Thoughts

  All Manic

  Back it Up

  Two's Company

  Obviously

  Getting Busy

  On Dodgy Ground

  Seriously?

  Not Again

  Betrayal

  You Again

  Murder in Mind

  Goodbye, Old Friend

  Some Me Time

  Familiar Surroundings

  Faery Fight

  All Forgiven

  Picking Up Where We Left Off

  A Bit Awkward

  To the Batmobile

  Quest For Destruction

  No Way

  This Isn't Happening

  A Lesson in Futility

  The Rise and Fall

  Taking a Backseat

  No Fair

  Hooray

  Into the Depths

  My Plan

  Ivan's Plan

  It Just Might Work

  Deaf and Dumbstruck

  Change of Plan

  Addicts to the End

  Where I Should Be

  Ash Addict

  Wildcat Wizard Book 8

  Al K. Line

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  Copyright © 2018, Al K. Line. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Mighty Wizard

  Demons aren't into bling, they like tarnished iron, corroded steel, pewter that has half rotted beside the corpse it was buried with.

  Which is why I'd gone to the significant trouble, and astronomical expense, of having a ring of gold edged inside and out with sterling silver laid in a new, polished concrete floor. It was insanely expensive, but it wasn't like I had to buy the bullion or anything. I always had several gold bars hidden here and there as the best way to keep your money safe is to get it out of the banks and into the ground in a non-degradable form. Call it an investment for the future, hopefully mine, as without this magical ring of precious metal, and the sigils carved on its underside, which was a real bitch let me tell you, I'd have been dead seconds after the demon I was summoning materialized.

  The air crashed in thunderous waves against my body, whipping my hair, my hat already across the room in a dusty corner. My jacket slapped angrily against my legs, the leather stinging even through my combats, but I continued to chant, saying words imprinted on my memory, each syllable, each intonation having to be perfect or I'd be toast. Or, more likely, squishy goo the demon would spread on his toast, or its toast. Most demonic entities are asexual although they seem the epitome of a man. Namely, stupid at times, angry a lot for no discernible reason, and always trying a little too hard to impress.

  The chant completed as I lifted my arms above my head flamboyantly, not for any specific reason, and it sure as hell didn't help with the spell, but it made the whole experience more fulfilling. If you can't be dramatic when summoning a hideous, terrifying beast from the Nolands then when can you? Being a wizard means you get to do cool stuff, even if only for your own enjoyment.

  And as the terror crept through my body, my guts churned, my mind screamed with the rasping of chittering beasties, and I lost control of most muscles, I smiled. This was awesome!

  It had been years since I'd summoned something akin to Lovecraft's nightmares, and I'd forgotten the thrill of it, the absolute fear it instilled. The feeling of being truly alive as you knew that at any moment, if you made a single mistake, you'd be dead or worse.

  Demons like this could do despicable things to you, crawl inside your mind, body, and spirit, and keep you just the right side of death so they could play with you while devouring you from the inside out. Make every waking moment, and you would remain awake, conscious of what was being done to you, what you were made to do, a true nightmare. They would gnaw away at your sanity as they forced you to do the most heinous things. If I did anything wrong with this conjuring and summoning, the entity would be inside me, take over and I'd become it. Trust me, demons from the Nolands, or most of them anyway, and certainly the one I was calling forth, were masters of torture.

  Flesh would be ripped by my own hands, my body slowly destroyed as awareness was lost and I slipped away screaming into true insanity.

  I had to do this. I had to because I was letting myself get complacent. I needed to remind myself of what I was, who I was. A wizard and a bloody good one, not just some dude good at nicking other people's stuff. I had to return to my roots, to the things I'd learned. To practice and hone my craft, go back to before I was a wizard thief and merely a wizard. A man who controlled the elements, accessed places citizens didn't even know existed. But most of all, I had to do something to remind myself that humanity wasn't so bad after all. That even after all the disappointments and letdowns, the betrayals and heartache, I needed to remind myself that we often did our best to be kind and loving, and there were much worse things out there. Things that would revel in your pain and loved nothing more than to see you suffer.

  So I was calling one forth, just so I wouldn't be so pissed off with people, because, let's face it, people are a pain in the ass and bloody annoying most of the time.

  Here it came, a beast from the darkest, most dangerous nether regions of the Nolands. Something despicable and evil, banished forever to the untold hells that occupied a realm where endless magical creatures of all manner resided in their own private worlds.

  The air screamed with static, magic swirled around the barn, and terrible voices tried to insinuate themselves into my head and tempt me to join them on the dark side.
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  I felt alive like I hadn't for the longest time, on the cusp of what was possible for a human to experience and come out the other side intact. This was what I'd become a wizard for. To know the dark places and the light, to delve deep into the wild side and experience what it meant to be pushed to the limits of endurance and beyond. I hardened my resolve, reached higher, grinned with grim determination, and forced my will into the final syllable.

  "Oi, I was busy," a squeaky voice piped up.

  I looked down, then crouched, and peered into the eyes of a tiny, six-inch-high demon absentmindedly scratching behind a pointed ear with a claw, and squinted at it suspiciously.

  "You aren't who I summoned."

  "Other dude's on vacation. I'm his stand in. So," he said chirpily, "what you want? Hurry up, I'm making dinner. Missus will kill me if I incinerate the meat again."

  "Forget it," I said with a sigh, and muttered the banishing spell.

  As the diminutive demon disappeared in a puff of acrid smoke, my shoulders sagged and I groaned as I stood.

  Sometimes being a wizard is just one big bloody disappointment.

  Hi, I'm Arthur "The Hat" Salzman. Gangster. Wizard. Out of practice.

  Gritty Tongue

  "Can I come in yet?" asked Penelope after she knocked on the barn door.

  "I'm in the middle of doing wizard things," I shouted, unsure if it was safe to exit the circle that now seemed like one serious waste of time, money, and resources.

  "Did you get a big one this time?" she hollered back.

  "Bigger than last time," I said, trying to sound optimistic.

  "Oh, that's good. Well done. Would you like a spot of lunch between your tricks?"

  "I've told you before," I said, exasperated. "They aren't tricks. This is real magic. Dangerous stuff."

  There was a pause. "Do you want pickle?"

  "Yes, please."

  I listened to the sound of Penelope's retreating footsteps then sent out feelers on the sigils and wards that protected the circle. All clear.

  I stepped out, rearranged my clothes, scratched at my stubble, then tried to tame my hair. It was tangled, and damp, as unruly and unhelpful as always. My boots clattered on the fresh square of concrete then I was back onto the old, original floor of the barn, just compacted earth that had been there well over a century.

  In a dark, dusty corner, where spiders waited to scare wizards, I spied Grace. Tentatively, I reached out, holding my breath and forcing down the rising panic as I thought about eight-legged, six-eyed monsters jumping out to attack, and snatched up Grace then pulled back fast before the beasties got me.

  Something rattled as I moved my arm, and after I donned my hat I crouched down and peered into the shadows.

  Being extra brave, and with my stomach rumbling at the thought of a cheese and pickle sandwich made by Penelope, I grabbed the object I'd almost forgotten about in the intervening six weeks. I shivered as the freezing cold barn made my tangy sweat turn into tiny beads of what felt like ice, but I manned up and grabbed the frigid iron handle of the cauldron.

  Mabel's Cauldron.

  Carefully, I lifted it, then remembered that I'd removed the Kinky Bones and hidden them somewhere very safe, and was sure I'd remember where one day, then stood, clutching my prize.

  I had an idea, and it might even have been a good one. I wasn't decided yet, but I had something to prove, and besides, it was bloody freezing.

  Outside the barn, across a field, I went to the fire pit I'd made when the cauldron was still an item of interest and hung it from the metal frame I'd neglected to put away.

  After faffing about clearing a dusting of snow, I had a large pile of dry firewood and a little fire going. I fed it fast, blowing hard to get the embers fierce, and in no time at all I had a huge, roaring fire, all thought of a sandwich forgotten.

  "Arthur Salzman," came the cross voice of Penelope. "I've been waiting."

  I smiled at the sight of her standing there, hands on hips, looking annoyed with me. "Sorry. Got distracted."

  "Can't it wait?"

  "Sure. Um, you look nice. Very pretty."

  "That is so lame. Stop trying to weasel your way out of it." Penelope smiled before she turned away and made a point of stomping back up to the house in her wellies. I saw her run a hand through her curly chestnut hair, secretly pleased I'd complimented her.

  I was getting better at this. Who knew that giving a woman a compliment makes them happy and more inclined to let you continue being a muppet a while longer? I had learned a lot since we'd met, and I was even getting the hang of it. A bit.

  If demons were off the menu, then I'd summon something else. Fire was what I needed, and ash. Once it burned down, I'd use the cauldron to mix up the ash and a few other secret ingredients and summon something truly mind-blowing.

  I would too. You just watch.

  With one more glance at the fire, I shrugged and left for a sandwich.

  Like a Little Kid

  I was excited and distracted during lunch.

  So, while there were crumbs still on the counter, and dirty knives screaming for me to clean them, I nonetheless stuffed the last morsel of sandwich into my mouth, wiped away the detritus gathered on my beard, kissed a bemused looking Penelope on the top of her head while she sat at the kitchen table, and headed back outside quick smart. I trusted Penelope to clean up the kitchen properly, and I wasn't even too stressed about it as she was almost as obsessive as me.

  By the time I'd got my boots and jacket on and was marching across the fields, I'd convinced myself I was onto a winner this time. The last several weeks had been nothing but frustration as I failed to summon anything worthy of one such as myself. It was as though a message had been sent to the Nolands, warning all dangerous beasties to stay well away from Arthur while he had a wizardly mid-life crisis. I'd show them. I'd drag something awful kicking and screaming here even if it killed me. Which, obviously, I didn't want it to.

  It was freezing outside and had been for a week. Snow still clung to the ground like a blanket of cotton wool, crisp and pristine in the unspoiled countryside. There were tracks criss-crossing the fields where sheep dutifully followed each other in that mindless way they do, and we had a clear path from the house to the barns and down to the stables where George worked diligently at her equestrian business, busier than ever despite the weather. Seemed horsey folks wouldn't let a bit of snow put them off getting their fix of neurotic, dangerous, large beasts.

  I followed the path for a while then headed off to the spot where I'd lit the fire. The wood had burned down nicely now, and I quickened my step as I got closer, eager for this to work, and for the warmth it promised.

  Once at the fire, I poked about with a long stick as that's a rule, the heat warming my face and my hands until they were close to blistering. But I'm a wizard, and such pain was as nothing, and I only moved away because I'd done what I wanted to and not because I was worried about them melting off or anything.

  I bent, placed the stick aside, then squatted for what felt like the longest time, lost in the embers. It was ready. I lifted the now scalding cauldron from its resting place using the stick and carefully placed it on the flat rocks containing the fire. Mabel's Cauldron was an artifact, but the witches hadn't wanted it back after a slight bit of bother with the now dead ex Queen. So I kept it, forgot about it, as I had other things to think about, like how terrible it was I had fallen in love and how awesome it was I got to see boobs every single night, but it was perfect for this.

  The power imbued in the very fabric of the iron meant this cauldron would amplify any magic performed inside. I wasn't big on potions or spells as such, but this was different. This was for ash. Ash, a combining of the elements, symbolic of earth, wind, fire, and water, gray matter that was the result of all these things combined, was potent, a powerful substance not to be trifled with. I carefully scooped some up in a little can, the discarded aftermath of a midnight feast involving beans and then some canoodl
ing under thick blankets that was utterly awesome and should soon be repeated if I could convince Penelope to come out in the freezing cold for a grope, then dropped it into the cauldron as I focused my will and my intent and readied for something spectacular.

  The ash hissed and steamed as it hit the iron. Colors swirled violently as if awoken from a nightmarish slumber.

  This was going to be so cool.

  The cauldron jangled on the rock, as if trying to escape, but my will held it in place and the artifact settled with what amounted to a sigh.

  I pulled Wand from his bespoke pocket in my combats, the Velcro making a pleasing tear, a ritual as satisfying as pulling on a pair of comfy old boots.

  "Oh, so I get to play at last, do I?" Wand mumbled.

  "Hey, you've been involved in everything lately. I just wanted to try a summoning on my own."

  "And how did that go?" he asked, full of sarcasm.

  "Just as well as it did with you helping," I snapped. "You know, I get the feeling I'm just as powerful without you as with you."

  "Ha! Try seeing in all directions, getting a glimpse into the past, or poking out someone's eyeballs from a distance without me and see how you fare."

  "Okay, okay, no need to be so angry just because I did one little thing alone."

  "It's the principle. We're a team."

  "And now you're here. So, you gonna help or not?"

  "Am I as stiff as when you and Penelope—"

  "Yeah, I get the picture. Go on then, do it."

  Wand tensed, which is a weird feeling, as the sigils flared and my will joined with his power. The magic I'd infused in him when I created him blended with my own until we were one and the same. I tapped Wand on the lip of the cauldron as I let an ancient spell become real, the words not needed, my intent clear. And besides, the whole thing was stanzas long. Instead, I condensed it into a single thought, I knew it so well. Wand's tip flared brighter than a sun in miniature as he made contact with iron.

  Ash vibrated at a dizzying speed inside the cauldron, rocking it and then spinning the whole thing in a circle. I grinned, satisfied that this time something awesome would be summoned. Not a demon, but a creature more ethereal and benign but no less incredible. Born of fire and ash, a true wonder.