Faery Dust (Wildcat Wizard Book 2) Page 11
With my senses back under control after a little me time, I lifted a leg to move over to an alcove and get what I had come for, but I stopped, and shuffled tight into the corner a second before I figured out why I'd done such a thing.
Bolts snicked back into their hidden recesses and the door opened.
Ugh
"Buster's hat! Are you fucking nuts?" I hissed as the door closed and a tiny figure turned in a panic, searching the room. "Up here, you utter fuckwit," I whispered. "And whatever you do don't—"
"What are you doing up there?" asked Vicky, stepping forward into the room.
"—move." I groaned, and said, "Shit," as Vicky tripped over my bag, slammed into the concrete, and something clicked, loudly.
"Oops," giggled Vicky, "forgot to look where I was going."
"Great, just great. How could you forget about a fucking floor sensor, or miss a bag right in front of you? I'm probably close to the guy's weight and I didn't risk it, you weigh less than his goddamn cat! Right, do not, and let me finish, try to get up, and do not," I warned, half of me wondering why I bothered, "panic and think you can get out before your bony ass makes this worse and the bloody artifacts come to life and gobble you up."
"They won't, will they?" Vicky eyed me then the room in a panic.
"Just shut up," I ordered, and rubbed at my eyes, squeezing them shut and telling myself to calm down and think this through before I moved an inch.
A strange hissing filled the room. I tried to figure out what it was, but it stopped as soon as it began so I dismissed it. Something to do with the way the floor sensors worked, extra locks activating on the door maybe?
I stared down at Vicky, wondering how to get her out of there without something terrible happening, when it occurred to me we hadn't figured out what the weight sensitive floor did when triggered. We knew it was calibrated in parts, and that panels had to be trodden on within a certain time to stop something despicable happening, but me expecting the room to explode was just my over-active imagination. Surely that wouldn't happen, then all the artifacts would be destroyed.
Ugh, I was so dense at times. Not bombs, gas.
As if reading my thoughts, the hissing began again in earnest. This time there was no mistaking what was happening.
"Stay down, keep your mouth covered, and do not panic," I said, watching as more small nozzles pushed out of tiny holes around the room and jets like steam hissed out their poison.
"Panic, why would I panic?" said Vicky, looking around in a, yes, you guessed it, panic.
"Just stay there." I turned my focus to the air around me, my body wobbling dangerously as my attention was diverted because of Vicky. Magic welled and I felt my system draining, such feats taking me down to a level I wasn't happy about.
As the pressure increased on my body, gravity of my own making returning, I steadied then moved back onto the wall.
"You're walking on walls, you're like Spiderman," said Vicky, eyes wide and streaming as she rubbed at them with her hands, in no way, shape, or form, doing what I'd specifically told her to do.
"Just shut up and stop moving, you're making it worse." And she was. Every movement, every shift in balance on the hidden suspended platforms increased the release of the gas, and by the time I made it to the ground, falling the last few feet as controlling the air pressure was becoming too much of a drain, the noxious gas had reached my lungs.
I dashed to Vicky and hauled her to her feet, slung my bag over my shoulder, and said, "Where's your bag?"
"Outside. Thought it might slow me down, make me do something silly like knock something over."
"Oh, you mean the bag with the gas masks?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't be like that, you didn't tell me there were masks in it," she said in a huff.
"But I did tell you to stay the fuck outside!" I wanted to shake her until she got some sense, but the gas was thick to my knees and I knew we'd be out cold if we bickered for much longer. I also knew this was the one and only chance to get the Ræth Næg.
"Hold tight. Put your jumper over your mouth and breathe through it, and do not touch anything."
Vicky didn't need telling twice. As her eyes streamed and reddened, she lifted her jumper with one hand and clutched my jacket with the other. I shuffled over to the alcove along the left wall, grabbed the Ræth Næg, and stuffed it into a pocket.
Turning, I focused my magic and pushed up with it from the floor, causing the gas to rise high with a whoosh and gather at the ceiling like the poison cloud it was. I crouched low and Vicky had the sense to follow my lead, her short stature a help, my height a real hindrance. With just a few steps we were at the door and I pressed the button on the panel. It clicked open. I hauled on it, shoved Vicky out, followed her, closed the door, and dragged her through the house back to the room we'd come from.
Not letting her pause for a moment, fearing she'd have a coughing fit and wake the owner, I pulled the drapes aside, opened the window, and bundled her out before she could object or do anything else stupid.
Vicky fell in a heap, coughing and spluttering, face blotchy, and I doubted she could see much of anything. I was faring a lot better. The gas had hardly touched me as the magic stopped it getting into contact with my face and I'd decided not breathing in a room full of poison was a good idea, yet my lungs still burned a little and my skin tingled.
"Stay here and don't do anything idiotic," I hissed at her. She had the sense to look abashed.
I closed the window, noted she'd done a decent job taping up the hole, and pulled the drapes closed. Much as I wanted to just leave right there and then, I knew I had to act without emotion and do what I always did. Covering your tracks is important. I knew I'd been careful, but I always left with the utmost care, double checking everything just to be on the safe side. The last thing you wanted to do was drop something, leave a clue as to who the thief was. It happens more than you'd think.
If you panic, or if your idiot sidekick bumbles about like the utter amateur she is, then mistakes happen, and the next thing you know some wizard is at your door and threatening to huff and puff and blow the top of your head off.
So I raced back to the room, stood outside, and let myself relax. Picturing the now gas-filled room I knew we'd left nothing inside. I'd glanced back before the door closed so we were all good there. Pulling out a small bottle of spray containing bleach, vinegar, and lemon juice—just so it smelled nice—I sprayed a little onto a cloth. I wiped the door, the handle, and the sensor, knowing my gloves would mean my prints weren't on the inside and Vicky hadn't touched it. Walking slowly back the way we'd come, I checked the carpet, stopped to study rugs in the weak light from the lamps, and even the furniture. This wasn't for fun, this was in case the dude had an idiot hacker sidekick or knew someone who could run checks on fingerprints.
Not that my prints were on any system, and I doubted Vicky's were, but I wanted to keep it that way. And besides, you just never knew what would happen down the line. It's one thing being suspected, quite another for someone to trick you into getting your prints and for them to match the ones found at the scene of the crime.
I buffed any furniture she may have touched, did the same to door frames, and then wandered back into the study, knowing I had the window to go then we were free and clear and up one very expensive belt.
Then a naked woman came running toward me, breasts wobbling delightfully, arms flailing, pale hair glowing orange from the warm lamplight, blood dripping from two puncture wounds on the soft flesh above her right hip.
More Hassle
I ducked behind the curtain as she yelped, screamed, and shouted, "Help me, help. Oh, somebody help me," in a way that would make an actor on a daytime soap opera cringe.
The quick glimpse I'd got of her didn't indicate she was scared for her life, but the giggling was the real giveaway.
Peering out from my hiding place, her beautiful figure was revealed in all its firm glory as she turned somewhat to the s
ide to face the doorway. Her abdomen was flat, deep shadow highlighting the soft contours of her abs. Wide hips swept down to shapely legs, and her toes were painted and decorated with rings. Her breasts were full and a little too pert to be natural, but I still failed to stop visions of rubbing my face between them and not caring one iota about their provenance.
Her face was made-up too heavily and her hair, as it caught the light, a little too light to be natural, but she was pretty, and she was now rubbing her boobs together sensually. She tilted her head back then ran her tongue across her teeth as a shadow emerged from the doorway.
A tap at the window disturbed me and I turned to see Vicky looking at me questioningly, but something must have caught her attention and her eyes lowered until she was staring at my crotch. She mouthed a silent, "Ugh, gross, you pervert."
"It's my wand," I said, and turned away.
I peeked back through the drapes carefully, only to see a naked, rather heavyset man, powerful even with the extra pounds, step into the light. He smiled, baring fangs already stained dark, and advanced to the woman who was now licking her own finger and jiggling her chest in a way it was hard not to find distracting verging on mesmerizing. They were like two jellies moving in slow motion, and I wondered if it hurt to be slapping two bulging bags of silicon about like that.
Then I was drawn to something much harder as the man dropped his hand to his crotch and began...
It was definitely time to leave.
This was no damsel in distress, worried for her life. This was a sex game I had no interest in watching, or not much, and besides, he was a vampire. It was news to me, and by the looks of him it was pretty new to him, too. They were role playing, but her fangs made it absolutely clear she was one too. Maybe they'd both just been made? They were both new to the world of the vampire, I could see that much because I could see them so well. These weren't Seconds or anything like it, they were weak vampires, but he was still a powerful man, a collector of priceless artifacts. Not a wizard, but someone who knew magic but could probably only perform bits and pieces with the help of the items he collected.
What were the vampires up to? Were they recruiting? I'd assumed they'd be focusing on bringing all their people up to Second level, or at least improving their current strength, not harvesting new vampires and leaving them at low levels. A taster maybe? Now wasn't the time to get answers. I had what I came for; we should leave.
As the grunts and moans grew louder, I wiped down the window, opened it, slid out, and closed it with a sigh. I cleaned the outside frame and glass, put everything in my bag, then asked Vicky, "Ever been to a vampire orgy?"
"No. Why, do you want to?" She lifted her head and licked her lips. I gulped, wondering what I could say to backpedal.
Vicky slapped me on the arm and said, "Haha, you're so gullible."
"Oh, yeah, er, right. Come on, let's go."
"We got it, didn't we?" she shouted, and I honestly thought about chucking her through the window and leaving her to join the vamp games.
"What is wrong with you? Seriously? Rule number one of being a thief is you don't shout."
"Oops, sorry. What's number two?"
"Run."
Light lit up the grass as the drapes were parted. My last glimpse of the house was of two naked vampires staring out of the window, blood dripping from their mouths.
Two silicon breasts pressed hard against the glass; they looked like they were smiling.
Could've Been Worse
By the time we got back to the car we were out of breath and sweating. I pressed the fob and the car lights blinked wildly—modern cars really were a hassle when you wanted to stay in stealth mode. I retrieved my hat and put it where it belonged, grabbed the bag off Vicky, slung everything in, slammed the door shut, and hissed, "Get in. Now."
Silently, Vicky did as she was told, but by the time I'd started the engine she was belted and blathering. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, okay? Please, I promise I won't do it again. I'll be good. I'll do better. My excitement took over and I wanted to see what you did, what you do. I'm sorry." Next was time for tears, and sniffles, and hanging the head low and even some wringing of the hands.
I sped off, shifted through the gears in seconds, then turned to her and said, "That went quite well, right?" and smiled.
Vicky's head snapped up and she wiped her eyes so she could focus, red from tears and gas. "Eh, what? You're not mad?"
"Not really. I knew you'd be trouble. You should have seen the balls-up Pepper made of his first outing with me. He actually left a shoe behind, and his watch, and we got caught, and tortured, and, well, he wasn't very good. At least you kept cool. Plus, I like you more." I winked at her, felt the adrenaline leave like the tide ripped out before a tsunami, then fell asleep.
Unsurprisingly, I crashed the car.
Sore Head
I came to with one hell of a sore head and panicked she was hurt. Luckily she was okay. My hat, I mean. Grace deserved respect and disliked being mistreated, so I whispered gently to her, reset the feather, and checked the sigils on the inside. All good.
I had a lump like a small egg above my eye so the hat sat high, but it was preferable to no hat, and besides, I knew my skull would've been in much worse condition without the magical protection it afforded.
Vicky was fine, and yes, I had checked. She stared at me, astonished.
"Did you really fall asleep minutes after getting away with a magical artifact worth a million dollars while two naked vampires watched us leave?" she asked, a curious look on her face.
"Um, maybe."
"Does this happen often?"
"No, I have never fallen asleep driving away from two naked vampires before."
"Fine," she said, adjusting her ponytail, "let me rephrase. Have you fallen asleep so soon after a job before?"
"Maybe," I said warily.
"Arthur! Next time I drive."
"You got a deal. It's the comedown, the magical comedown, takes it out of me sometimes. Plus it's late, early, whatever." My head was hurting too much so I let the hat work its magic and soon a numbness crept across my scalp and Grace settled lower as the bump receded. Feeling instantly better, I hopped out the car and discovered I'd crashed into a hedge rather than a tree. The only damage was my pride and several scratches to the paintwork.
Back in the car, I started it up and after a little back and forth and some nasty scraping sounds we pulled free and were on our way again.
"We did it, we did it!" Vicky screamed without warning, banging her hands on the dash then slapping my leg until it stung.
"Hey, watch it, I'm driving here." But her mood was infectious, and my grin widened as we ate up the distance and headed back to the city. Our city. Home turf.
Vicky was like a small child let loose in a very large shop full of free chocolate, babbling away excitedly the whole time about what had happened and how cool it had all been.
Once she'd calmed down, I talked to her seriously about the stupid stuff she'd done but she wasn't listening, was too hyper. But we'd got away, that was the main thing, and the rest, the teaching, somehow finding a way to get her to do as she was told, would have to wait for another day.
As we got closer to home the mood settled, and my thoughts drifted to Elion and the Ræth Næg. It was still in my pocket, a coil of leather with a simple buckle, giving no hint as to what it could do. I needed to be alone with it to try to unravel its secrets as all I got was an archaic vibe, hints and whispers of another time and place when men were men and heavy-duty leather was the outfit of choice. Strong magic was definitely curled up tight inside, but how to release it, and what it could do, was anyone's guess.
I thought back over the evening, trying to reassure myself we were in the clear. The vampire thing was a shock, but I knew we weren't seen by them. As a mild veil came up to shroud us as the drapes were opened, all they would have observed, however great their eyesight, was a handful of blurs, a little misdirection so they wouldn't kno
w how many people were involved.
Burden of proof was the key. If anyone asked, or accused me, I'd lie and say it wasn't me. Nobody could prove otherwise.
Unless, of course, I actually got caught with the belt.
"Fancy making me a coffee before we head home?" I asked as we entered the outskirts of the city, having to pass Vicky's place in the burbs before getting to my halfway house.
"Sure," she said with a friendly smile. "I could do with one myself. My throat feels funny and I need a wash. My eyes still hurt."
"Then let's do it."
I wound my way through the sleeping streets where men and women with regular jobs and regular cars slept soundly, or sat at their kitchen tables dreading the day to come and the mindless repetition of the daily grind. Dawn broke and happy sunshine spilled over the neat front lawns and the shiny cars, as if mocking those who'd spend the day locked in cubicles far away from the warmth offered freely.
Didn't make my night seem so bad when I thought about all those poor buggers and what they were about to do.
We got out of the car at Vicky's, laughing and joking quietly. I locked up then followed her inside.
I stopped dead in my tracks as I entered her bland home. A huge guy, six five and almost as wide as the hallway, had Vicky by the neck, dangling her a foot off the ground. She was purple and already losing what little strength remained. As her arms went limp the man growled, "She has five seconds to live. Where's the belt?"
Damn. All I wanted was a coffee.
The Games We Play
"Let me guess, you're a Hound, right? Not just a goon, but a fully fledged member of Cerberus." I turned my back on him casually and closed Vicky's front door. No need for the neighbors to see if they happened to be getting an early start.
As I spun around, I saw the indecision, the twitch of a heavy eyebrow and the glance either side of me, wondering how I was staying cool and if I had a trick or three up my sleeves.