Angel Eyes (Wildcat Wizard Book 4)

by Al K. Line

  "Let me give you a piece of advice," I began, putting my hand over Ivan's as his fingers walked unconsciously toward the book. "Don't get caught up in the power of objects you don't understand. It's one thing looking at a magical book for spells or to tell you certain things, if, and I mean if, you know what the book contains, but even then they're prone to surprise you. Like, you turn a page and the words crumble to the edges and then leap out at you and try to bite your face off. What you don't do, ever, is open something without knowing at least what to expect. Do you know what this book is?"

  "No idea. I just had to get it. For Mikalus."

  "Right. And we aren't Mikalus. He's the original fucking vampire. He's been resurrected from his own ashes by the blood of his chosen ones, and you. He isn't a regular guy. Me and you, and yes, I'm a wizard with extra lives and you're a new vampire that can shape shift, we're just regular dudes in comparison. This book belongs to an angel, and I just had a run-in with it. It's dangerous, very serious about getting this back. And you opened the book. It'll be pissed. Leave it to Mikalus and the angel. My advice? Give it to him as soon as possible. Like, right now."

  "That's very good advice."

  We turned at the soft, yet at the same time gravelly, voice. Mikalus.

  Like my night wasn't bad enough already.

  Telling Tales

  "I see you opened the book," said Mikalus, nodding at the tiny tome like we weren't sure what book he was talking about.

  "I was intrigued," said Ivan, defiant without being disrespectful.

  "Indeed." Mikalus swept across the room, and by that I mean I wasn't really sure if he walked or floated. Definitely some vampire action going on there.

  I kept silent as he came, studying him, filing it all away to add to my meager knowledge of these strange, secretive creatures. Ivan was the only vamp I knew, the only one I'd ever known to speak more than a few words to, and I hadn't seen Mikalus since I'd inadvertently helped resurrect the most powerful ex-human on the planet. Which is an accomplishment of sorts, I guess.

  He was still slender, but no longer skinny, just slim and healthy looking in a vampiric, otherworldly way. Meaning, he was pale—no sun for this guy, that hadn't ended well last time—making his eyes seem sunken, his fingers were bony, the nails that little bit too long and pointy to be normal as he was old skool and they all did that back in the day, and his straight black hair hung low and lustrous. All in all he looked exactly how you'd expect the leader of the vampires to look. He also had seriously cool taste in clothes.

  Meaning, he wore sagging, washed-out jeans with a frayed leather belt, a black vest showing off his strong muscles, and was barefoot. My kind of guy as he looked like I would if I was an immortal vampire and had access to nice hair products. Plus a razor.

  "Nice to see you again, Arthur." Mikalus stopped a few feet away and smiled at me and Ivan. I tried not to think about how he'd got in; the door certainly hadn't opened, I'd have seen it if it did.

  "You too. Been keeping busy?"

  "Oh, you know, this and that." Mikalus waved it all away with a languid swish of the hand.

  "Feeling, er, all right after your rebirth?" Look, it was difficult to think what to say, okay?

  "Actually, I feel fabulous. Better than I ever did. This new world, it's so different to the old ways. So much to learn, so much to see and do. And the people, they are more open than back in my time. It's nice to not have to be so circumspect. Did you know, in my time I was seen as somewhat of a problem? A pariah. Our kind had to hide or risk terrible punishment. Now there are those willing to... Ah, but I digress. Yes, I am well. And you?"

  "Good, all good. Although, this book you wanted has caused me a lot of trouble. You know who it really belongs to, right?"

  Mikalus nodded and took a step closer. He smelled funny. Sweet, almost cloying, but earthy too, although I didn't for one minute believe he rested in a dirt-lined coffin during the day. Although, he was from a different time after all. He was intoxicating, his essence made me feel funny inside and his power was almost overwhelming. That would be the immortal blood coursing through his veins. Assuming it did course, I guess, but it would have to, wouldn't it? Otherwise, he'd have feet full of blood, same as all the other vamps. I decided there and then I'd make it my goal to learn all I could about vampires.

  They were, whether I liked it or not, going to play a large part in my future. I knew that, so I had to understand them.

  "I know. That's why I had Ivan employ the very best. You."

  "I'm flattered. But also a little pissed."

  "Arthur, show some respect!" hissed Ivan.

  I scowled at him then turned back to Mikalus and said, "With all due respect, I'm a little pissed. This angel nearly killed me, several times, and he's ruined my evening. And my car. A heads-up would have been nice."

  "I apologize. Aurelius can be quite a handful. Mostly harmless though, as long as you keep your cool. That's what they say isn't it? Keep your cool?"

  "Yeah, it is. And I did, mostly. But like I said, I could have been warned about what I'd be up against."

  "Ah, so you wanted every piece of information I had on the book? To know exactly what would happen and how dangerous it might be?" Mikalus stared deep into my eyes, and I felt a little funny, lightheaded and off-guard. Was he trying to glamor me? Motherfucker! I fortified my mind with magic that slammed down like a solid barrier, and eyeballed him right back. Take that, old man.

  "Yeah, something like that," I mumbled.

  "And is that how it usually works? Or do you get given a job and go do it regardless of the risk?"

  "Depends," I muttered. This was getting me nowhere. "Look, all I'm saying is that I should have been told this angel, Aurelius, wanted the book. He manifest and almost killed me."

  "And then you understood he fed on your fear, your energy, your willingness, your desire to do him harm, and he was gone, yes?"

  "Right," I nodded.

  "Then all is well. Thank you for the book. I assume you have been paid?"

  "I have."

  "Good. Then that is all."

  I knew when I was being dismissed, so, rather than do anything I'd regret, I nodded, glanced at the book, then made to leave.

  Mikalus picked up the book and held it gently in his hands. "Arthur, don't you want to know what this is?" he asked, waving it at me.

  "Nope. You paid, I delivered, our business is done. For good."

  "As you wish. Farewell."

  "See you."

  My body screaming at me to run the hell away, I stayed calm, moved like I was Mr. Chilled, even did the gangster shoulder roll. Just a few more minutes and I was out of here. Door open, I glanced up.

  "Oh, seriously? Now? C'mon!"

  "Hello, Arthur," said Carmichael.

  Introductions

  "And you are?" asked Ivan, his breath warm on my neck he was so close.

  Mikalus was the other side of me, so we blocked the doorway. Damn, they were fast.

  "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Carmichael." The new head of Cerberus, or the face of Cerberus anyway, smiled pleasantly and offered his hand. Surprisingly, Mikalus took it, and Ivan moved closer as if to protect him. Carmichael seemed to know who was in charge, and there was something else, a vibe, like this was somehow pretense.

  Carmichael frowned down at his left hand, where he held a slender case. It was cracked, the wood broken, runes covering it damaged. He pocketed it.

  Carmichael angled his head so he could peek into the apartment; his eyes widened when he saw the book on the counter. "Ah, I see Arthur here came through on his promise."

  "He's a very adept young man." I liked that, it wasn't often, make that ever, that I got called young.

  "He is, shall we say, very enterprising. Caused a little trouble lately, haven't you, Arthur? He killed my predecessor, blew up a helicopter, saw things he ought not to see."

  "My, my, you have been busy," said Mikalus, smiling at me. Neither he nor Ivan moved from the d
oorway.

  I figured it best not to mention the dead goons in the hall, everyone could see them as well as I could. "Um, well, I'll leave you to it then," I said, deciding I definitely needed a holiday.

  "Stay awhile," said Mikalus, putting a hand to my shoulder. He didn't squeeze hard, but there was plenty implied by the way he placed his hand. I felt the strength he had, that he could crush my shoulder into dust.

  "Sure, sounds nice. Can't think of a better way to spend the evening." I backed up, then decided that if this was how these fuckers wanted to play it, their stupid games of one-upmanship, then so be it. Me, I was going to stay as far out of it as I could. Which wasn't far enough at all, but we don't always get what we want. In fact I hardly ever do.

  I wandered over to the posh sofa and slumped down onto the steel and leather contraption. It was about as comfortable as straddling a saddle made of nails. Naked. Nevertheless, I reclined, draped an arm over the back, and watched the show.

  "Please, come in," said Mikalus, nodding to Ivan. They stepped away, and Mikalus swept a hand inward for Carmichael to enter. I had to hand it to him, he remained cool, calm, and collected as he shook hands again with the First, and then with the most dangerous gangster in the country.

  He made a beeline straight for the book but Mikalus was there well before him, that freaky floating, walking thing again. "Come now, you are my guest. It would be a shame for you to overstep the bounds of my hospitality." No mention was made of what Carmichael and Cerberus must have gone through to get inside, although the lack of heavy gunfire or magic in the air made me question if this was a raid or he'd got in by more nefarious means, only using violence outside the door. These damn guys, so bloody sneaky.

  "I apologize, old habits and all that." Carmichael stepped away from the counter and stood at ease, eyes dancing, smiling like he knew something we all didn't. "I must say, you're a hard man to meet. Did you get our messages?"

  "Do you mean the corpses, or the Hounds you sent to inquire as to a meeting?"

  "Ah, yes, well, the more violent approach was preferred by my predecessor, but I run things for the time being. Let's start again, shall we? Wipe the past out and begin on a more pleasant footing? A clean slate."

  "That sounds preferable," said Mikalus. "So, young Arthur has been causing you some trouble has he?"

  "More than a little. But he'll come around."

  "I bloody won't."

  "Has he seen the warehouse?" asked Mikalus.

  Carmichael's eyes darkened, then he laughed. "He has. You are well-informed, it seems. Nobody knows about the warehouse."

  "I do." Mikalus pointed to the sofas, and Carmichael nodded. Then they were all sitting, me next to Carmichael, the vampires opposite.

  This was getting too weird. What was going on here? They acted like they were old friends. Playing games as though they knew each other and were pretending they didn't.

  I studied each man as the silence extended. They were relaxed, not acting, but calm, and the way they looked at each other made it seem like they'd met many times before.

  "Who are you?" I asked Carmichael. "And enough with the bullshit. What's this all about?"

  "I'm the new acting head of Cerberus. I told you. And this is about you, and Mikalus, interfering in our business." Carmichael turned away from me and faced Mikalus. "It's been quiet with you gone, and our work has mostly been a success, but your return has ruffled a few feathers, has people concerned. Even him. He is not amused by your escalation of activity, and your obsession with so many artifacts. It has to stop, old friend. You cannot have this book. You cannot let it happen again."

  Aha, there it was. Old friend. What was the deal here? Ivan and I exchanged a glance. He was as much in the dark as I was. Let what happen again? Just what the hell was this book?

  "It must be done. Surely you understand?" said Mikalus, sympathy for Carmichael tinging his words, as if he understood the importance of this.

  "We do not. He does not. I sympathize, but when you were gone our work proceeded apace. Those tasked with running Cerberus mostly did a good job, although we have had more casualties lately than in many years." Carmichael glanced at me, then back to Mikalus. "You are a disruption, and we cannot, will not, let this happen. For old time's sake, hand over the book."

  "No, I cannot. You understand its importance, know what it means, so don't ask again."

  "You know he won't stand for this," said Carmichael.

  "He? Who's he?" I asked.

  "The head of Cerberus," said Carmichael, as if talking to a child. "He, our boss I suppose you would call him, has made it his life's work to stop magic ruining this world, and any other, and that means keeping the Nolands separate from earth. Magic doesn't belong here, it belongs there. It is our duty to stop this world breaking down. Mikalus wishes to ruin it all. I cannot allow it. He will not allow it."

  "Oh, right, well, that's that all cleared up." I sank back into the sofa, everything more confusing than ever. I hated all this stuff, these games with words, these power plays and subtle gestures and actions that the top guys thrived on. It was all bullshit, but they loved this crap.

  Mikalus leaned forward, angry. "Tell him I'll do as I please. I answer to no one. I will have this, I will do it, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

  Carmichael rose. "So be it. This was a friendly visit, a reminder if you like, but it will not be repeated. Good to see you. Again. You look different. Better in this age. This century suits you."

  "As it does you," said Mikalus, rising too.

  Carmichael nodded, glanced at Ivan and me, then left.

  "Well, guess I'll be off too. Nice meeting you again. Thanks for the job, next time offer it to someone else."

  "As you wish. And Arthur?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Don't go searching for answers. It won't lead anywhere you want it to. Forget what you heard in this room. It's for your own good."

  "Wouldn't dream of it. Mum's the word. Can't remember a thing." I nodded at both men, then I left too.

  The corridor was empty, Carmichael was gone. What the fuck was that all about?

  Walking the Streets

  I took a nice circuitous route back to my semi, parked a few streets away, then went for a wander. I had a lot to think about, and I honestly didn't know where to start. At least the book was gone; that was something.

  What was all that crap with Carmichael and Mikalus? They knew each other? From the past? But Mikalus had been missing in action for several hundred years, and when alive had been living off in some remote European country. Probably in a crumbling castle in the middle of nowhere where he got a local virgin delivered by the townsfolk once a month so he didn't go nuts and devour them all. He was ancient, from a different time and world, so how did Carmichael know him?

  When you're faced with questions that only have one logical answer then it's usually right. Meaning, Carmichael, the new, posh, identikit face of Cerberus, and it really made me wonder who the actual boss was, this "He" they both talked about, was at least several centuries old. He was either a vampire himself, but I didn't get that vibe from him, plus he didn't fade from memory like most vamps did, or a very powerful magic user in his own right. Much more powerful then I'd believed. Yeah, it was staring right at me.

  Carmichael, the man in charge of ensuring magic users didn't get their hands on magical items, was a fucking ancient wizard. How about that for irony?

  The two men clearly had a history. They'd dealt with each other. Probably because of Mikalus' penchant for forbidden books. Aha, something clicked. I bet when Mikalus got the old death by sun, Cerberus were there pretty damn quick to swipe his library. No wonder he was pissing them off so much going after all these books. Maybe some had somehow been sold on, you get dodgy types in every organization and I bet over a few hundred years a few Hounds had taken books and sold them on for a nice sum, or maybe Mikalus' library had been looted before Cerberus got there and most of it was still in circulation.

/>   Yes, I was getting somewhere. Mikalus was reclaiming his lost library, Cerberus had some of his books, and both parties were annoyed at the other for what each saw as taking a right liberty. And, they both seemed to know quite a lot about Aurelius, and what the book contained. What was it? I racked my brains as I walked past silent houses, down alleys where cats and rats ran from my presence, oblivious to most of it as I was lost deep in thought. What was the game here? What were they up to?

  I found myself on a nice wide street, almost an avenue, one where detached houses had large landscaped gardens and the road was split in two by a central grassy divide with willows and beech trees sucking up the fumes of the city to keep the residents healthy.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket and I fished it out. I had a serious number of missed calls, like an epic number. Instantly, my heart leaped into my mouth. Was there something wrong at home? Had Vicky done something stupid? No, it was Ivan. What the hell did he want? I wasn't going to work for them any more.

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you have it? I'm assuming it wasn't you?" He sounded stressed. Very, very stressed.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "The book!" he shouted. "It got switched. Did he slip it to you?"

  "Who? What's going on?"

  Ivan took a deep breath then said, "Carmichael switched the book. We just looked at it, it's blank. Empty. It's fake. Carmichael must have switched it. Did he slip it to you? Check your pockets?"

  "If he switched it why would he give it to me? He'd just take it."

  "No, he wouldn't. Because he didn't have anything to contain it in. He and the book, or the angel, go way back apparently. Mikalus said the angel would be on him in an instant if he had it, so chances are he hid it on you so he could come collect when he had a secure box to put it in, stop it from being located. Check your pockets!" Ivan was practically screaming at me, and he was always cool.

  "Fine. But you're barking up the wrong tree here. Hang on." I fumbled with my phone, patted my jeans, knowing I'd have felt it, then my jacket pockets, of which there were several. One of the side ones, almost invisible with the way the material was designed, as a wizard can never have too many pockets and sometimes I even lost things in my clothes, felt hard, like there was a book inside.