Demon Dogs (Wildcat Wizard Book 3)

by Al K. Line

  Trouble at Home

  A corrupted mess of humanity and animal crashed into the kitchen and spun wildly, trying to look in all directions at once. I could only imagine the world of hurt Vicky was in as she was no longer merely the wolf and certainly not in her human form but a cross between the two. Like she'd attempted to revert to her old self and got stuck part way.

  Her face still had the protruding snout and the ears, but she had long hair again and her eyes were more human than ever. They told of a terrible battle being waged within. Limbs were oversized and thick and the claws remained, but patches of her flesh were smooth and pale, others covered with a fine fur.

  Her entire torso was still stretched and definitely canine, but the joints were wonky, her coordination weak, and she scrabbled around on the floor as she tried to take everything in and also protect her rear.

  "Vicky, it's us. Arthur and Sasha, remember?" I glanced at Sasha but she made no move to intervene, rather she remained utterly still, radiating a calm and strength I'd never seen before. She exuded a silent peacefulness that made me feel sleepy, like I could sink into a wonderful dream and wake refreshed and rested like I'd prayed for so many nights.

  The creature sniffed the air and was drawn to Sasha, sensing no threat. Her body flickered, blinking back and forth between human and animal over and over again. As the calm permeated the room, the changes happened faster and I dared not move for fear of breaking the spell. Vicky advanced, now upright on legs that looked terribly painful, the joints stiff and legs bowed.

  And she slipped on the damn rug. I knew having a rug in the kitchen was a bad idea.

  The body vibrated and reverted to full human-wolf hybrid, muscles pumped with blood, her face stretched taut with that of the wolf as she howled her anger. Sasha stepped back and the calm evaporated, her will broken. Vicky bent and tore the rug to shreds with powerful claws.

  "It's us!" I screamed, but it was no good, she was lost to madness.

  Soaking wet, covered in mud and with sticks and brambles matting her fur, she vaulted onto the counter and skidded along, sending coffee, sugar, knives, and cups clattering to the tiles, the crockery smashing. The noise startled her more and she leaped down and bounded into the hall then the living room. There was an almighty crash and the sound of breaking glass. We ran after her only to see her ripping down the curtains, then tearing foam from the sofa. The TV was already destroyed and the table in pieces. The only item untouched was the cabinet with her kids' trophies.

  We stepped aside just in time as she pelted back into the hall and up the stairs.

  What was she doing? Was she searching for her children, her husband, or something else? As she went up I caught sight of the wound in her shoulder for the first time. It looked awful. A nasty puncture wound with dry blood and scabs that had been ripped off. It was livid, angry and red verging on black, and this explained her possessed nature. She was running a raging fever, infection having already set in. It would be driving Vicky out of her mind.

  "We've got to stop her," I whispered.

  "And soon," agreed Sasha, her composure perfect even now.

  "Any ideas?"

  "One, but I don't think it will help her."

  "What is it?" I asked hurriedly, the sounds from above growing increasingly loud.

  "I could send her to the Nolands, out of harm's way until she can calm down and change back."

  "That's not a very good plan. Nothing else? No cool faery trick you can perform?"

  "Not with her being like this." Sasha looked concerned now, like she was as out of ideas as me. If we could get her to relax then we could use subtle magic to aid her, to make her revert, especially between the two of us, but with her like this there wasn't a hope in hell of her staying still long enough. The last thing I wanted was to use force as that hadn't worked so far and who knew what damage she could do to herself in that situation.

  "Damn. Okay, let's get her and you send her somewhere she can't hurt herself or anyone else. Just for a while so we can get help. Ivan, we need to get him and see if he can do something. This is out of control now but he might have an idea." I hadn't wanted to get him involved until Vicky was herself again, thinking it might drive her over the edge in her unstable state, but I was willing to try anything now before she killed herself or died from the wound.

  We took the stairs cautiously and followed the noise, passing her bedroom where everything was broken and in pieces, the bed looking like abstract foam art. We found her in one of the girls' bedrooms, the room untouched. Vicky sat at the foot of the bed, panting with her tongue hanging out, eyes fixed where her little girl would have slept restlessly knowing her mother wasn't home.

  We said nothing, but she must have sensed us and her head snapped around. There was a look, like we were thieves come to take her child away, and she growled with a dangerous rumble emanating deep within her chest.

  "I think you better do it now," I told Sasha, and even as I spoke the room vibrated with whispers of the Nolands. The air ripped apart in the center of the room, wild energy crackling and blinding me, turning everything white.

  I caught the faintest blur of darkness and felt something hard and powerful knock me aside. The portal collapsed as the room returned to normal. We were alone. Vicky was gone.

  "Goddamn!"

  A Shoulder to Cry On

  I ran down the stairs after her but she was impossibly fast and I think she just jumped the last half. She slammed into the front door and clawed manically at it, gouging glass and shredding plastic but the door held. Whining in frustration, she turned, glanced at me, then panicked and dashed into the living room. I made it in time to see her launch from the ruined sofa right at the window.

  "No!" It was no good, she whacked into the glass with her head and shoulder and it gave way under the immense force.

  She was gone.

  I sped back into the hall and opened the front door only to see her bound away down the garden and across the road, disappearing between two houses and into the mess of suburbia beyond. People would see her, she could hurt someone or herself, and what if the police were called? If she was captured it would be game over for her. Not only would the Alliance make it their mission to eliminate her, the shifters would be battling to reach her first and kill her before their whole secret existence was revealed.

  It wouldn't stop there though. Anyone who'd seen her, anyone that had caught her, tried to make such a sighting or a capture official, would be wiped out, no quarter given. Things like this weren't allowed to be made public under any circumstances and all I could hope for now was that she ran and hid so fast that nobody got a good look at her.

  I tried to think what lay ahead for her. More identical houses that met the industrial outskirts of the city, the mess of sprawling warehouses and factories, the ring roads, and the countryside. Maybe she'd be safe, for a while, if she got away quickly. It was still early but people were going to work, taking kids to school, or going shopping. Heck, she could be run over. If she died she'd return to human form, but the state she was in there was no way she could do that of her own volition.

  Checking the street, all seemed quiet. We were in luck and at least her immediate neighbors weren't home so they hadn't heard the commotion.

  I went inside, closed the door, and made a call to the Cleaner. It was becoming a habit, and not an enjoyable one like smoking. The very thought of a fat roll-up made my nerves jangle with excitement and I realized I hadn't had one for what felt like an age. Cravings took hold and the scent of nicotine filled my nostrils, my desire was so powerful.

  Unaware of what was I doing, I entered the kitchen then exited out the back door into a nice, immaculately neat garden. Sasha smiled and held out a rollie that looked like it was made by an angel—at this point nothing would have surprised me.

  "You, my dear faery godmother, are a lifesaver." I took the cigarette, one of George's by the looks of it, and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke sear my lungs and the nicotine a
bsorb into my bloodstream. Ah, the smoker's high, so delicious and so good. Why should I stick to just one a day? It was stupid. I was a bloody wizard and wizards didn't die from smoking, they died from being blasted or shot or stabbed or eaten by beasties, but I'd made a promise to George so I intended to carry on as I had, only breaking that promise when I wouldn't get found out.

  "She's gone. Again," I said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

  "I heard."

  We listened to the birds and watched them manically attack the half-empty feeders hanging from a tree in the corner of the garden. Oh to have such a simple life. The day warmed and the sun shone clear and happy in the sky, as if it had no idea, or didn't care, what was going on down here in the dirt. Guess it didn't.

  Sometimes thinking about this giant ball of fire in the sky that our planet revolves around put things into perspective, allowed me to become in tune with my environment and understand on an instinctive level just how petty and meaningless my worries were. Now wasn't one of those moments.

  Maybe it was the smoke, or maybe it was the night catching up with me, but the lack of sleep hit hard. I felt all strength go from my limbs, like the sun had seared away my energy and it dissipated into the air, rose to become a faint wisp of a cloud before being snuffed out entirely.

  What should I do? Should I call Ivan? Would he be sleeping the sleep of the undead, locked up tight somewhere in his vampire safe room? Probably. Daylight had become harder for him and if there was no need to venture out in the light then he wouldn't. But he'd called constantly all night and into the morning. Had he finally given up and slept? Could he, knowing Vicky was out there somewhere? His sibling, his only flesh and blood.

  I made the call while Sasha remained immobile, not pushing me to act, allowing me to figure this out for myself.

  Ivan sounded groggy and remote on the phone, as if he couldn't quite drag himself to full awareness. I left nothing out, told him what had happened, and he said that from past, and extensive, experience it was doubtful we'd find her now. She'd search for somewhere to rest, to hide, her strength gone during the daylight hours. I refrained from making any comments about how similar that was to the vampire nature as now didn't seem like the time, but the comparison was obvious.

  She'd be holed up somewhere dark and safe, soon sleeping whether she wanted to or not, and only when the moon rose would she awaken and be a strong and complete lycanthrope once more.

  I told him to get some rest and that I'd keep looking. He said he'd wait until dark then search for her himself, that I should rest up too as there was no point trying now. He knew the nature of the beast and said there was no way we'd find her, even with her being new to such a world.

  I hung up feeling more depressed than I had in a long time, and trust me, there was plenty that made me miserable on a regular basis.

  "Everything will be okay." Sasha smiled so sweetly I wanted to cry. She put her arm around me and I rested my head on her shoulder. How did she smell so nice? It shouldn't have even been possible.

  Being this close to her was like the best drug in existence, and I understood how the vamps felt about elves. It was intoxicating, made you almost lose your mind. She smelled like a perfect summer's day, like a picnic in a field of wild flowers. A heady scent of perfume with an underlying deep musk that made things stir that ought not to stir at such a time.

  It was like every woman rolled up into one. Like every part of a perfect companion and lover you could ever imagine all here in one idealized form. Soft and giving yet strong and able to support you through the many lows, promising delights in the bedroom and the best company you knew you didn't deserve.

  Yet Sasha was fae, and there was always this distance, this knowledge that underneath it all this was not quite real, not quite true. That the effect she had wasn't as perfect as you at first believed when you lost yourself, gave up the ability to think and act freely as the faery nature, the sheer unknowableness of her as a woman made you act irrationally and do things you wouldn't have otherwise done unless captivated by her spell.

  I smiled to myself. Haha, that wasn't faeries I was talking about, it was just women! A thought came to me then, an understanding. Was this why I stayed with George's mum for so long, because she was faery? Even in her broken state she was still intoxicating, and that's why I kept going back.

  "What should we do?" I asked, hoping she had answers, that she could do something, allow me to find Vicky while she was sleeping so we could help her somehow. If I'd been on top form maybe I could have located her myself, set up a spell to track her. I could have if she'd been Vicky, and if she was wearing her usual clothes or something familiar, but this would be like searching for somebody I'd never met before. Magic couldn't help me now, it certainly couldn't help Vicky.

  "Now we wait."

  The Cleaner and her associates were inside when we went back in. She gave me a knowing glance then got to work.

  I sat in a daze in the kitchen and let the frantic clean-up operation go on around me while Sasha had a few words with the Cleaner. There weren't many humans she interacted with but they seemed to have a real rapport, the Cleaner actually having a conversation rather than answering in single words. But this was Sasha, and she had that effect on everyone.

  Soon enough they were gone. We checked the house, then left. I drove to my new place in a daze, hardly registering the journey, and as sadness and concern sucked at my soul I found myself sitting on the sofa next to Sasha.

  I rested my head in her lap and stretched out my legs.

  She stroked my hair, something my mother never did even when I was a child and wanted her love more than I wanted food in my belly.

  Memories

  When I rescued Sasha from the prison she was in, a magical prison as opposed to one with bars, we had the longest conversation we've ever had. After she dealt with the man who'd held her captive for so long, at least in human terms, and trust me it took a while, we settled down in his plush living room and she explained exactly who she was and offered me the gift of extra lives that I gladly took.

  We spoke of many and varied things. She told me a little of her life in a vague way but she shared several secrets of the magical kind with me, secrets I have never, and will never, divulge. Sasha helped me in more ways than I can ever describe or repay. A bond grew between us through the night as we sat by a crackling fire and moved only to put more logs on. Not that she needed it, me either, but it created an atmosphere neither of us wanted to end.

  We grew close, closer than I'd been to any other being. It was like we'd been searching for each other our entire lives and I told her as much. She looked at me curiously and smiled that perfect smile and said words I will never forget. "We have been searching for each other our entire lives. But now the search is over, and so is the loneliness."

  How's that for profound? She was right. I have never felt alone again, not really, not like I did before I met her. Whatever happened in my life, whatever I did or whatever mess I was in, I knew I was loved, that I was part of someone else's life and they cared about me and wanted to know me, be my friend. More, to be my family.

  There was much she wouldn't say, talk of her life and her home was limited and references obscure, but she told me enough. We laughed and cried and joked and spoke in quiet tones and loud voices. I also told her of my past. All of it, everything that had happened. Every doubt, every insecurity, every worry and every problem. I told her about my childhood, my life, my escape into magic, everything. How I was wild, a crazed thing, a bad guy. The gangster everyone was wary of even before I became powerful.

  She was the only person in my entire life I had ever spoken of this with, the only one I could talk to about how things had been, and I told it to this strange, otherworldly person I'd just met. I had no promises from her, no reassurance she would keep my secrets, and she asked for no such promises from me. But we both knew we were linked through fate, brought together for a reason. We were family and that would never change
and we would never, ever betray each other.

  As I lay with my head in her lap and felt her smooth strokes of my head, I thought back on this and understood that whatever had happened with George, the things they'd done together, she'd done it all out of love. We were family, real family. None of us could deny it. We were connected, forever part of a larger whole, and Vicky belonged to this family too.

  Stupid, annoying, perky, chatty, infuriating Vicky was our family. We'd find her. When the time was right we'd find her and we'd get through this, be there for each other same as always. Nothing could stop us being part of each others' lives.

  I wondered where she was, how scared she felt, and if she was thinking about me, about her children and husband. Did she know she was loved and would never be truly alone? But she was alone now, and that could do terrible things to you when you were scared, let alone when your body wasn't your own and you were infected with poison of the mind and body, when you looked at your own skin and all you saw was a horror. Looking at yourself and not recognizing what you see can drive you insane. It's the only damn thing in this life we can all be sure will always be familiar, how we remain rooted in our reality.

  She had nothing left to tether her to the old Vicky. She would see a monster and that would scare her more than anything else. Because Vicky may have worn rather sad, sporty clothes but she was vain as hell and her eating disorders would be out of control in her new form. God knew what this would do to her once she returned to her own body. Would it snap her out of the need to starve herself then binge, or would it make it all the worse?

  So many questions, no answers. I hoped she was sleeping, that she wasn't thinking about anything. That she wasn't staring at her disfigured hand and crying into the darkness somewhere, curled up in a ball, alone and cold and so very afraid.

  Shaking It Off

  I awoke to one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever beheld, the face of Sasha smiling down at me. Still resting in her lap, it took me a moment to remember where I was and what I was doing there. Reluctantly, I sat up and smiled back at her; damn she was a strange one.