Angel Eyes Read online

  Their Hounds were soulless, robotic goons who would do whatever it took to get what they wanted, including trying to kill me on numerous occasions, with Nathan often taking the lead. We'd finally come to an understanding, meaning, if they all stayed out of my way I wouldn't kill Nathan, but I really, really wanted to. I'd been certain he was behind this latest interruption to my business, but now he was saying he wasn't, and he was about to show me something he believed would what, make me side with him and his nutters? Help him keep his job?

  Guess I'd find out.

  We walked down endless pristine corridors, each as understated as the last, but somehow managing to still scream money and tradition, exclusiveness and secrecy. Men in cramped rooms full of books and rich furnishings stared at us uneasily as we passed, aides carrying mounds of paperwork hurried past, nodding politely to Nathan and staring at Vicky and me with suspicion. Through a series of doors and richly carpeted stairwells with oak banisters, we descended to more sterile corridors, where the doors were all closed and the aides looked more like goons. We got increasingly suspicious glances, and Nathan had to stop more often to talk to goons, but nobody stopped us.

  Then we traveled via several elevators operated by a key card, deeper and deeper under the city, until we emerged in what appeared to be the service level. We walked down a long stretch of corridor where ducts, pipes, and bunches of color-coded cables fought for space on the walls and ceiling. The only sound was the hum of the heating system and the tap-tap-tapping of Nathan's cane. None of us had spoken a word to each other the whole time, but I could sense where we were heading, knew where he was taking us.

  As we walked, the pressure built in the corridor until it became almost overwhelming. This was nothing to do with the building itself, no lessening of air quality or failure of the building's systems, these were magical whispers. Tiny, infinitesimal leaks compounded until they formed an almost physical barrier, and certainly a mental one. Wherever we were headed, it was barely contained, and what was leaking was enough to cause serious disruption if it wasn't carefully monitored.

  Vicky stumbled and I grabbed her arm.

  "You okay?"

  "Just felt a bit funny," she said, not looking well.

  "Nathan, is this safe? I assume you can feel it too?"

  Nathan turned, but didn't stop moving. "No, it isn't safe, and yes, I can feel it. We should be fine, it's been like this for a long time. Don't worry, once we're inside there are, ah, devices at work to lessen the effects."

  "Inside what?" asked Vicky as I held on to her and we caught up with Nathan.

  "Inside the warehouse," said Nathan, spreading his arms wide, being overly dramatic if you ask me.

  Soon enough we reached the end of the corridor, and rather than turning and continuing on our way, he stopped at a door just like all the others.

  "This it?" I asked, knowing it was. Reality itself felt wrong here, just off enough to make my hat vibrate and my wand tingle in my pocket.

  Nathan nodded. "It is."

  "Are you sure about this? I don't know what your game is, but whatever you show me, it won't make us buddies."

  "Just let me do this. I'm all out of ideas otherwise. This is important, Arthur."

  "Whatever."

  We stood back while Nathan used his key card and the door opened after several clunks of what sounded like bolts withdrawing. It was no normal door, it looked like it was straight out of a bank vault. One that housed priceless goodies.

  "Oh, great, another boring fucking corridor."

  "If you please?" Nathan entered then swept his hand forward, inviting us in.

  We glanced at each other, then, me still holding on to Vicky, we entered. The door slammed closed behind us, the corridor hummed into life, and I felt reality turn back to normal as the magical emanations lifted.

  "It's a scrubbing room, state-of-the-art," said Nathan, as the sound in the corridor increased, a whooshing noise like it was sucking the magic right out of the air.

  "Never heard of magical scrubbers," I said.

  "Me either," said Vicky. "They don't exist or I'd know about them."

  "There's much you don't know. Cerberus is no amateur outfit. We have resources. We have people, smart people."

  "So why'd they put you in charge?" I asked, smiling.

  "Haha, very funny. Now, shall we enter? Are you ready?"

  We nodded, and followed Nathan to another door at the end of the short corridor, the lights getting brighter as we passed, like out of some sci-fi movie.

  Again, the key card was used, yet when the door opened it was to utter darkness. "Follow me. Take a few steps and wait for the door to close.

  I had a bad feeling, but then, I usually did. Nonetheless, we followed him, and stood in the darkness as the door closed with a clunk.

  Light erupted from high above, easily three stories, blinding me for a moment. I looked down to find we were standing on a metal gantry with a railing several paces away, and then, and then...

  "Well, fuck me sideways," said Vicky.

  We stared at her in shock, but I understood, as I was now looking where she was looking, and I said, "Yeah, me too," and even whistled. It was one of those moments.

  Lots of Stuff

  "Is this what I think it is?" I asked Nathan, somehow managing to get the words out when all I wanted to do was gawp. My anger was rising, and fast, but I held myself in check as this was too important, too momentous, to screw things up right now. I was sure I'd manage that later.

  "If what you think it is is a vast warehouse full of dangerous magical items Cerberus have collected over centuries then yes, it is."

  "What a waste," I lamented, looking down on row after row of industrial racking containing shelves full of locked metal crates of varying sizes.

  "It stops people like you causing havoc in the world," said Nathan, actually serious.

  "Bullshit, pure bullshit. I get it, okay? That you think keeping all this stuff locked up is for the greater good, stops wizards and practitioners blowing up the world or something, but that's not reality."

  "Oh, enlighten me."

  "Fine, I will. Most items go to collectors, and they look after them. Others are used to aid with magic, to help us, but, again, they are guarded closely. Why'd you think there are people like me? Because it's fucking hard to get these things. But I'll tell you one thing, Nathan, and about this I am utterly correct. What we all know, what wizards, warlocks, even the lowest bloody student knows, is that you don't, because it would be fucking stupid bordering on suicidal, like inviting Armageddon... Ugh, Buster's hat, where do I start? Okay," I sighed and took a deep breath, how could Cerberus be this monumentally stupid? "What you don't bloody do is put thousands of insanely powerful, unknowable magical items in one place."

  "I'd never thought about that," said Vicky, eyes glued to the boxes. How big was this place? I couldn't see the end.

  "Well I have, ever since I took up this line of work. It's best if things constantly change hands, so the items don't get too comfortable and the owners too lax. When people pay a ton of money for something, they look after it, protect it. They cherish and guard it. They may use it, sure, but mostly it's books, small things to help with spells and the like. Some have maybe a dozen or more items, and you can feel the power simmering when you get anywhere near to a collection like that. Hell knows what kind of power this lot is giving off. I've told you from the start, it's a ridiculous thing you guys do. You have no right to decide who gets to have what, and storing it like this is the worst thing you could possibly do. It's safer in the hands of many individuals. And besides, it's magic, it should be shared."

  "Arthur, that's quite a speech, and I agree." Nathan turned from looking at the warehouse and faced me.

  "Oh! Yeah, right. So, um, what's all this about then?"

  "Isn't it obvious?"

  "No, it isn't." I got a very bad feeling, and I cursed my loving, trusting nature.

  "I want what you took, this night
. What that, ah, creature wanted back. What you're delivering to the vampires in a few hours. I want it. It's the key to controlling this, all of it."

  "You double-crossing piece of shit!" Magic built inside of me, welling up as my will forced it to power-up like I was a robot superhero. I pulled open the Velcro and delved into my pocket for my wand. "This is the last time you screw with me, Nathan."

  Nathan smiled his infuriating smile, lifted his cane, and waved it about in admonishment. "No need to get angry. I knew you couldn't resist something like this. But you must understand, Arthur, I have no choice. My people really are up against it, and my position really is in jeopardy. And we do need to think about moving some of our inventory, but I am in trouble, because you're still alive, and interfering. You have to be stopped. I am going to stop you. After you hand over what you took. You don't know what it is, do you?"

  "So what if I don't? I did a job, I trust Ivan, weird as that sounds, and besides, Vicky wants to build an extension. Prepare to die, mother—"

  I yanked my wand out and forced my will deep into it, waiting for sigils to flare and energy to incinerate his goddamn head. Nothing happened. I stared down at the cold length of wood in my hand, and then dropped my arm.

  "Shit!"

  "What? What's wrong?" screeched Vicky. "Blast him. Let's get out of here."

  "It's the scrubbers, right?" I asked Nathan, feeling like a first-class dick.

  "Exactly." And then he smiled that smug smile of his and I kind of lost it.

  "Guess what, Nathan, my dear boy?"

  His smile wavered and he asked cautiously, "What?"

  "I've been working out." And with that I just ran forward, shoved him hard, and he flew backward and careened against the railing.

  I stepped back out of arm's reach, and readied for a fight, but Nathan was smart, and sneaky, so he lunged forward for Vicky.

  Shocked, Vicky scrammed at his eyes as he grabbed her arm and he released her, staggering back. Wild, Vicky screamed at him, "Don't touch me!" and pushed him. Hard.

  Nathan teetered for a moment, almost recovered his balance, then his bad leg gave way. He slipped, fell backward hard against the railing again, and flipped over. He even made it look professional, like a diver showing off a new move.

  There was a loud thud moments later and I couldn't help but be shocked by it. Had it finally happened? Was I finally rid of what I guess you could call my arch-enemy?

  We moved to the railing and stared down.

  Nathan's body lay at an impossible angle, his skull was split wide open, brain and blood was spreading on the concrete floor.

  "Yup, he's dead all right. Let's go."

  We spun as the door opened; things took a turn for the worse.

  Panic

  Something crackled in the dark corridor, the lights extinguished, blue lightning forked and it was as though the blackness itself shot out at us. It hit me right in the guts and I slammed back against the railing. All I could think was that it would be ironic if I met the same fate as Nathan. I wouldn't let it happen, if for no other reason than I couldn't bear to see his smug face after I died, as he'd be sure to be having a nice cup of tea with Death just so he could ridicule me.

  With a grunt, I lifted my wand, then remembered the damn scrubbers and instead rushed forward, grabbing Vicky by the arm as I passed her.

  Blackness whirled around in frenzied spirals of malevolent fury, a shriek of rage grinding like a chainsaw in my head.

  And then it stopped, just stopped, and the lights in the corridor blinked back on with a buzz, my head cleared, and I understood that the scrubbers in the warehouse were so strong that they'd stopped this thing dead in its tracks, its energy negated.

  For how long, and how effectively, I didn't wait to find out. This was tied up with the helicopter attack, and Nathan had known what it was, but he was history, and good riddance.

  Never mind, The Hat would investigate, but he needed to get the hell out of here first. He also needed his sleep, and he definitely needed a fucking word with the vampires for getting him into this nonsense.

  First, he needed to stay alive.

  "Let's go," I said calmly to Vicky as I pulled her into the corridor. As is the way with these things, the lights flickered then went out again.

  The warehouse door slammed shut, leaving us in pitch black. Vicky moaned, but I didn't stop, just sped up until we were running.

  "Arthur, stop it, you're going to get us killed. We'll smash into the door," Vicky wailed.

  "Not if I have anything to do with it."

  Taking advantage of the scrubbers being out of action, and with the magical backlash of the artifacts pounding at my head, and a furious, maleficent creature hammering at my back in rage and frustration, I lifted my wand, shunted my will, my frustration, and my need for self-preservation down into it and grinned manically as the sigils flared into life, lighting the way.

  Vicky gasped, and my smile turned to a frown as the door, closed and very solid, was highlighted right in front of us.

  I whispered a spell under my breath, something I do when nervous although spells have no power without the intent and power of the speaker. A fat plate of fierce red heat spat from the wand and slammed into the steel, melting it in an instant.

  We dove through, landing hard and painfully out in the boring corridor. Vicky rolled off me, sprang to her feet, and I reached back through the hole in the door, still hissing around the edges, grabbed my hat, put Grace back where she belonged, pushed off with my feet and sprinted after the already running Vicky.

  Black feathers drifted down in front of us as we ran, then were gone. We were alone in the depths of Cerberus HQ.

  I didn't have a clue how to get out. "Should have taken Nathan's key card," I muttered as we kept on running.

  Vicky to the Rescue

  "Don't worry about that, you've got me." Vicky's ponytail bobbed about like a happy dog's tail as she tried to keep up with my long stride. It's not that I am particularly tall, it's just that she was like a miniature poodle. Or something else that's small and annoying.

  "Oh, yeah, whoopee." I tried to think about how to escape, but I'd seen no stairwells this deep down, and assumed they'd have locks too.

  "Just get us to the elevator, I'll get us in." Vicky's face was set in grim determination, so I focused on retracing our steps and got us there in record time. Meaning, we only got lost twice.

  How long before alarms began ringing? How long before that thing reappeared? How long before I fell asleep, or went into a coma?

  "Okay, we're here. What now?"

  "Now I do what I do best." Vicky fished about in her rucksack, some designer nonsense made mostly of straps, the actual bag so small it looked pretty much pointless, an afterthought to the fashion designer but a perfect place to emblazon the logo.

  "What, annoy me and ask for money?"

  "No, tech stuff, you twat."

  "Hey, I'm the one that says twat. I'm the boss." There was a long pause as Vicky stared at me. "Twat," I said, and we both laughed. Okay, I did. She just punched me on the arm then dragged what looked like a very sleek modern phone and a load of wires out of her twat-bag. Um, er, that came out wrong. Sorry.

  "Waddya doing?" I asked as she tapped on the screen and fiddled with wires.

  "Don't worry about it, you wouldn't understand."

  "Try me."

  "Okay," she said as she worked. "I'm going to bypass the blah, blah, blah, blah, and see if I can port a blah, blah, blah, and if that works I can access the blah, and blah it and then the blah should allow me to blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, and then I can use that to blah and—"

  Ping.

  The door opened and Vicky lifted up a hand to high-five.

  "Just get in, we haven't got time for that." Vicky looked crestfallen. "Haha, just kidding. Good job." We high-fived and Vicky hopped in as the door closed.

  "You were doing that thing again, weren't you?"

  "Don't know what you mean," I sa
id innocently, raising my eyes to stare at the ceiling.

  "Liar. You zoned out the minute I started explaining."

  "Did not."

  "Okay, what did I say then?"

  "Something about the ports and the arrays and bypassing the doobies to gain access to the frazzles and then you could gee up the monkeys and make them triangulate the numerical outliers of space. That right?"

  "Dick." Vicky hit me again. But this time she did smile.

  Yeah, The Hat still had it. Never lost it.

  Ping.

  The door opened, and we stepped out, all casual like, blending in perfectly amongst the suits and the business skirts, and we didn't walk fast or end up running or anything. And we didn't have loads of people shouting at us and alarms didn't begin to ring as we crashed through the door from earlier into the inner courtyard and run into the center where we could then be spied on from every angle.

  We might have done something similar though, but with style, obviously.

  "What now?" asked Vicky, out of breath, sweating like a Pygmy in discount sportswear.

  "Can you fly a helicopter?"

  "No, can you?"

  "Well, now that you ask," I said, and her face lit up. "No. But how hard can it be?"

  We jumped in, and sat in the front seats.

  I couldn't even find the key to start it. Did they have keys, or was it just buttons?

  "What's the backup plan?" asked Vicky, pressing random buttons same as me.

  "Backup plan? I didn't even have a main plan. Um, how about... No, that won't work." I glanced out the window and said, "Ah, how about we keep on running?"

  Vicky spied the goons charging across the grass and shrieked.

  "Hello? Faery godmother?" I called. "You know that thing about coming in the nick of time to save me, and how you never do? Well, maybe just this once you could?" I asked sweetly into the air. I waited for the faery dust to start falling, but it didn't.

  What did fall was a single black feather, and it landed on my nose.

  We were screwed.

  Doing It In Style

  Men rushed toward us, my nose tickled, Vicky jabbed her fingers at anything she could, and I searched the interior frantically, sure there must be an easy way to get the damn thing started.