Faery Dust (Wildcat Wizard Book 2) Page 8

  "Is she funny in the head?" hollered Yoda the hairy.

  "Hmm, not sure, Maybe."

  "Arthur!"

  "She's my new sidekick," I said, smiling beatifically at Vicky as her eyes watered and she coughed and spluttered, trying to wipe away the festering tuna smell I knew would stay with her for weeks. Me, I used a little magic, plus some Vaseline, to ensure I was safe to eat fish again without throwing up.

  "Go away, I'm busy," he said, then turned and wandered over to a workbench where he began to arrange parts for something I didn't like the look of at all.

  "Is he a man?" asked Vicky, staring at the backside of the best magic forger in the country.

  "Yes. Just very old, and, um, it gets confusing."

  "What does?" Vicky whispered.

  "He used to be a bit of a legend, still is I guess. But back in the old days, I mean the very old days, he was very different so I've been told."

  "How'd you mean?"

  "Taller, less hair. Still as grumpy though."

  "What you idiots whispering about?" asked Sisiminimus, full of rage as he turned from his work to face us.

  "Just saying how great you are at what you do," I said.

  "Shut up, you're annoying me. Is that still here?" He scowled at Vicky and she lost the plot.

  "Look here you obnoxious little man, I will not be spoken to like that. Not by anyone." Vicky marched up to him and squeezed her nose, then continued, poking him through his beard as she spoke. "I don't care who you are or what you do, you don't get to be so rude. What's the matter with you? Why are you being so mean?"

  I was torn between grabbing Vicky, putting her under my arm and running away very fast, and trying to think of what to say to stop the old man from melting her into a puddle of shiny Lycra on his studio floor. So it was with utter shock that his features softened and he smiled. Slowly, as if trying to figure out how to do it after so many years, he laughed. It grew and grew until he was doubled over, dirty hands clutching his sides.

  Vicky took a step back then turned and raised her eyebrows. I shrugged. This was a new one on me.

  "It's about time," chortled Sisiminimus. "Damn, you're a feisty one, aren't you?"

  "You better believe it," said Vicky, hands on hips.

  "She's a keeper, Arthur. You should marry her."

  "She's already married," I said, trying to keep up with how things were going.

  "What, you mean otherwise you would?" asked Vicky.

  "Um, ooh, that's new," I said, walking over to a cool sword on the wall.

  "Don't touch it!" screamed the pot-bellied wizard. I snatched my arm away as he dashed over, meaning he walked and almost tripped on his beard.

  "Arthur? You were saying?"

  "We've been through this. You're my sidekick, not the totty."

  "Totty? Who says totty any more?"

  "Um, I do."

  "Look, when you two have quite finished," said an exasperated mini wizard.

  Once again, Vicky had managed to confound and astound me. And it didn't end there.

  Before anyone apart from Mrs. Too Damn Jolly knew what was happening, she'd grabbed a pair of scissors, plonked Sisiminimus down on a stool, and was tutting at him as she tried, and failed, to run her fingers through his hair whilst simultaneously trying not to breathe.

  "I like you," said the crime against hair, smiling at Vicky and trying to grope her.

  I groaned and wondered if I'd ever get to the point of my visit.

  A Lead

  "Haha, you little minx," said Sisiminimus before standing, not that it made much difference, and twirling.

  "Beautiful," said Vicky with a straight face, when as far as I could tell all she'd done was expose more bits than should be exposed. Still, he was in good spirits, and that was a first.

  "Can we please get down to business now?" I asked.

  "Such a grump, isn't he?" said the newly groomed forger with a wink to Vicky.

  "You should see him in the mornings," Vicky offered.

  "Aha! So you are a couple."

  "Business?" I reminded him.

  "Fine, fine. What can I do for you?"

  "What do you know about the Ræth Næg?"

  "I know I could knock you one up in a few days."

  "No, the real one. Do you know what it does?"

  "I do not, and that's the beauty of artifacts like that. As nobody knows what it does, I could make one and give it any number of powers. Nobody would be the wiser."

  "What if I wanted to get my hands on the real thing? Do you know who has it?" Sisiminimus had been a mine of information over the years, willing to give up his knowledge for cash or favors, and although he never left his studio he knew just about all there was to know about the wonderful items us magic users loved more than gold.

  "It better not be for Cerberus. I know you've been dealing with them. Nasty buggers the lot of them."

  I slapped Vicky's hand away from a silver box before she melted her arm off. She yelped but I ignored the scowl and said, "Then you know it wasn't out of choice. And you know it wasn't my fault what happened."

  "About you resurrecting the First and the vampires becoming as powerful as wizards?" He looked at me slyly, reminding me he was far from stupid and very well-informed.

  "Yeah, that. Well?"

  "I may know something." He rubbed his fingers together in the universal sign of greed and the negotiations began.

  Some Drama

  An hour later, down more cash than I'd have liked but with a wealth of information, we exited the forger's lair and stepped from shadows cast by his decrepit building into bright sunshine. The alley was dirty and chilly, but it was central and he liked to hear the noise of the city when he occasionally stood on his doorstep or opened a window.

  "Have we eaten?" I asked. My thoughts were becoming dull and I was losing track of time, getting a weird feeling that it wasn't today any longer, that I must have been confused. Surely it wasn't earlier today I'd been given this job then killed a man?

  "No. Bad night?" Vicky knew all about my insomnia and wasn't far behind me. She spent much of her nights doing what she would call dastardly things on the dark web, her abilities at odds with her usually mundane life. She was one hell of a hacker though, one of the best, and she liked to keep her skills sharp. It was her stress relief, her way of coping with not sleeping, helping her unwind from days filled with running around after family and trying to convince herself that what she was doing, the way she lived, and the man she shared her life with, wasn't a waste. The kids I could understand, but putting up with the Slug just never seemed like Vicky if you knew her.

  "Yeah, same as the rest. How about you?"

  "Why do you think I got George to come get me and bring me to yours? I didn't get a wink."

  I nodded, understanding. With the house to herself she would have been tearing her hair out. That deep, all-pervading silence didn't happen in her life. "That was real smart of you in there," I said, meaning it. "You're full of surprises. But you took a risk, you know that? He could have turned you to mush. He's done it before." Should I lecture her or thank her? I really wasn't sure.

  "Don't be daft, he was an old softy. He just wanted someone to mother him. It's what everyone wants. To be looked after. Made to feel special."

  "Haha, I guess you're right. So, about the food. Where do you fancy?"

  "Home, I want to go home and eat in my kitchen."

  "Sounds good to me." My stomach rumbled at the thought of Vicky's sandwiches and coffee, both the best you could get. Plus, after what I'd just forked out for the information, it would be prudent to save some cash. Never mind the money we'd get if we pulled this off, watching the expenditure was always worthwhile.

  We walked down the alleyway, back into shadow as it narrowed, and I got a familiar tingling in my right leg, my wand stirring, telling me all was not well. Saying nothing, I angled a little to the right so Vicky was forced close to the wall, and then I put my arm around her and dragged he
r down.

  The graffiti-covered bricks right where her head would have been exploded in a shower of red shards and I knew the old wand radar was still working as it should. "Stay down," I warned, peering over a pile of black refuse sacks.

  "I'm in a puddle," Vicky scowled at the dirty water like it would somehow apologize and she'd dry off.

  "And people are trying to kill you."

  "Oh, right."

  All I could see were two silhouettes approaching from just inside the alley, one male, one female judging by the curves, and there was something familiar about them. But I was distracted by the exploding wall. I'd heard no gunshot, there was no magic residue in the air, and I knew brick didn't just explode to break the monotony of being part of a wall.

  "Elves, it's elves," I muttered.

  "Ooh, can I see?" Vicky bobbed her head up but I pushed down on her before she got her eyeballs popped out, or something really gross happened.

  "We need to have words," I scalded, and we sure as hell did.

  I stood, as there was little point hiding and lying in filth is no way to go out, and go out I probably would.

  The far end of the alley shimmered where the break between our reality and theirs was holding strong, a desolate landscape glittering on the other side, looking like the moon but with more shiny bits. This was their access point from the Nolands, the name we gave to the myriad worlds and hells and all kinds of nasty places where other creatures abide, mainly because we didn't know what they were called and they refused to tell us.

  Elves, like the fae, had their own world and their own way of being, and it bore little resemblance to ours. You think ours is confusing, listen to Sasha tell you what time was like for her and you'd realize humanity had it easy.

  Both elves wore tight black leggings of sorts tucked into hefty boots, with shirts that showed off their lithe figures to full effect. One muscular, the other very curvaceous. They both sported the requisite lightweight, blowing in the wind even though there was no breeze, coats, the long black hair and pointy ears making it obvious what they were if the fact both approached seven feet wasn't giveaway enough. They also both wore Abe Lincoln hats, looking very similar to Elion, like extras from a period drama set in the rougher parts of old London town. What wasn't so obvious was why they were here now, although it must be tied up with Elion and the job I was doing. Seemed Elion's fashion sense had become a hit, and I hate to admit, I kind of resented it.

  They'd been following me, or had someone do it so they could turn up when they felt the time was right, and I guess this ticked all the boxes.

  Dark mysterious alley? Check.

  Sun in right place to make dramatic entrance? Check.

  Arthur lumbered with mouthy sidekick? Check.

  Ready, willing, and able to beat said wizard and frustrated housewife to squishy food for the rats? Check. Check. Check.

  My wand was in my hand and glowing hot and angry as they sauntered from shadow to sunlight and I got to see their faces. Stunning, as most were, but weird at the same time. Turning you on but turning you off. Only when you saw their flesh, or they got real close, did their sexuality become almost overwhelming.

  "I was gonna go get a sandwich, can this wait?" I asked, my stomach actually rumbling.

  "You are the man called Arthur? The one with the magic?" asked the female, her lips painted silver, the tips of her ears the same. Revealed as she removed her hat.

  "You are the nuisance called Annoying Elf? The one with the style issue?"

  "They said you were funny. When does that begin?" Ooh, damn, she was good.

  "When your momma recounts the jokes I told her in bed last night." There was silence, and even Vicky looked at me funny. I went through what I'd said in my mind and realized it sounded like being in bed with me was funny when it's all kinds of super awesome. Blame it on the insomnia and the need for food and coffee, 'cause I definitely wasn't worried or anything or wondering how best to run away without leaving Vicky behind.

  "I don't get it," said the male.

  "No, neither do I. It's been years." I got a nod of approval from Vicky. The Hat still had it.

  "Where is Elion?" he asked.

  "No idea."

  "You have met with him. What did he want?"

  "Who's Elion? Is he a dog? Have you lost your pet? Just put up a poster, that's what most folks do."

  The female turned to the male and said, loud enough for me to hear, "He is very annoying. Shall we kill him? Can I do it?"

  "Not yet, he has information we need."

  While they rabbited on I got Vicky's attention and nodded at her. She nodded back. I held my hand by my side and counted down from three with my fingers. As I closed the last finger I sighed and hissed, "You're supposed to run when the countdown finishes."

  "Oh, I thought it meant you were gonna blast them," said Vicky. "Shall we run now?"

  "Yes, you utter plebe. Now."

  I grabbed Vicky by the arm, blew a huge hole in the wall of the building opposite Sisiminimus', and as the dust clouded the alley and the clatter of falling bricks blocked the sound of me yelling obscenities at Vicky and telling her we definitely had to have a few reminder lessons about the various codes and secret nods and whatnot that I'd already gone over and she'd obviously forgot, we ran away and didn't stop running until we got to my car.

  Then I drove at speed randomly around the city and once sure we weren't being followed I drove to Vicky's suburban nightmare and let her make me a sandwich and coffee.

  Damn, I'd forgotten how long it took to train a sidekick. As I munched on my food, I got the sinking feeling that Vicky would be a work in progress for some time to come. Probably decades.

  Life's Tough

  It was early afternoon by the time we'd finished eating and cleaned up. Vicky, in her usual style, went for the make it look clean but not actually make it clean approach by stuffing everything in the already full dishwasher and closing the door on it. Each to their own. It would drive me nuts doing something like that. She loaded it up without taking out what was already spotless, willing to let it run through the cycle again at some point when she got around to it. I bit my tongue as she had enough on her plate, and I guess the habit was hardwired now.

  And I could see she was feeling uncomfortable in her own house. She kept glancing around, expecting the girls to come rushing in wanting attention, dragging her off to play or to take them somewhere.

  With the information from Sisiminimus I knew we were onto a proper lead, one that would allow me to get the belt, but I couldn't focus, found myself drifting as the chicken sandwich weighed down my thoughts and slowed my body while it was digested. I tried to figure out why Elion would want the belt so bad, hating that I had so little information. After last week's incident I wanted as much intel as I could possibly get, not to go in half blind, get the belt and complete the transaction only to have everything blow up in my face.

  What could be so important about it? He certainly didn't want it just to add to his collection of artifacts. He wanted it for a reason and I wanted to know what that was. I never normally let such unanswered questions stop me from getting what I was to be paid to get, though, and although I was doubtful, I knew myself well enough to know the lure of a big bounty wouldn't deter me from the hunt.

  What worried me, apart from Vicky's safety and the wellbeing of my daughter, were the elves who'd appeared. They were keeping tabs on Elion and that little warning back in the alley was intended to make me squeal and tell them what I knew. If they'd wanted to kill me then they would have, or it would have been a lot more violent anyway, but they were in the dark about his intentions and knew nothing of his desire for the Ræth Næg or whatever he was planning to do with it afterward. Maybe it was nothing and he was acting as middleman, or maybe it was something different entirely. Everything became jumbled and I kept almost falling off the stool at Vicky's breakfast bar.

  "Get some sleep, then we can go to work," said Vicky as she turned, wip
ing her hands on a tea towel and seeing me grab the counter before I fell to her rug. Who has a rug in the kitchen? Weird.

  "Maybe half an hour on the sofa would be a good idea," I mumbled, already half asleep just thinking about resting my body.

  "Use my bed, you'll be more comfortable."

  "You sure. That's not taboo or anything?"

  "It's fine. Hubby's away, I told you. Not that he'd notice even if you were there at bedtime. He'd crawl right in next to you, read his book, then probably mumble goodnight and roll over and start snoring."

  "Thanks. See you soon." I said nothing about the Slug. I'd tried in the past, told her life was too short to live with a man like that, but she loved him regardless, even if she ached for something more from life.

  Poor Vicky. But she had her children and she had her computer, and dare I say it she had me. I bitched about her, moaned and groaned, as I did about all the women in my life, but I loved her to bits. She was my family, and we went back a long way.

  But the moment I opened her bedroom door and sank onto the plump mattress and my head hit cool pillows, all thoughts of my friend, of Elion, of George, of Sasha, money, and of danger vanished.

  The mini-death took me and I traveled eagerly to the land of oblivion.

  A Strange Bedfellow

  I awoke with a sense of peace and contentment I have only ever felt when in the presence of a woman. When I have slept and that sleep was instigated by sexual exhaustion and a connection to the person who had been a part of said antics. I was rested, clear of mind, and happy. It had been a long time since I'd felt this peaceful and strangely fulfilled, normally waking from my slumber anxious without knowing why.

  I sighed and shifted on the pillow, opening my eyes.

  The angelic sleeping face of Vicky was the first thing I saw. She was smiling.

  Rather than freaking and getting the wrong idea, I took it for what it was. The need for closeness, for companionship, for the warmth of another human being. Of a friend. She was lying on her stomach, me on my back, and her arm was draped gently over my belly, looking so frail yet I knew there was strength behind her pipe-cleaner arms. A mighty spirit that would do whatever it took to protect her own.