Faery Dust (Wildcat Wizard Book 2)

by Al K. Line

  Gone was the intimidation of small business owners and the whole protection racket that went with it, and countless other activities Ivan proclaimed off-limits vanished overnight.

  Nobody had ever known anything like it, and it caused quite a stir. But he acted so fast, and so ruthlessly, no doubt aided by his newfound vampire buddies, that it all happened before those who declared themselves his enemies could do little but accept or die.

  Some had called him soft when they heard he'd taken over, and they vanished. The word was out—he owned the city. The new boss wouldn't stand for the bullying or harming of innocents, the mistreating of women, and he also did his damnedest to eradicate the growing issue of tainted drugs that had become commonplace.

  That's not to say he didn't step up his game in other ways. In just a week, Ivan had eliminated the competition. He either destroyed or incorporated the small gangs with one simple offer—work for me or bugger off and don't forget to hand over your business before you go. The price of his drugs was at an all time low as the skimmers, the middlemen, and the cheats were all taken care of.

  Swathes of the city were as high as kites as his new heroin was the dog's bollocks, apparently, and a peace unknown during Merrick's reign descended on an underworld hardly prepared for one as ruthless and capable as Ivan. Already nicknamed Ivan the Terrible by friends and enemies alike, the dude took to his new role like a duck to water.

  Everyone was singing his praises, certainly the small business owners who could now go to him if they had a problem, rather than being mistreated and shaken down every week. People seemed to either forget or ignore that he was a drug dealing gangster who thought nothing of killing anyone who stood in his way. Never mind that he had morals, he still dealt in the misery of the addict, the vulnerable, and the helpless, all for profit. I had too much experience, some of it personal, to get excited about what Ivan did. The sheer misery of humanity I waded through on a daily basis made sure of that. Anyone who peddled heroin was bad news in my book, no matter that he'd saved my daughter. His motivations for that weren't entirely altruistic, but I owed him, nonetheless.

  After dwelling on his business, and the morning I'd had, topped off with Vicky's nosiness about my past, I wasn't in the best of moods as we approached what I could only think of as the lair.

  It screamed vampire without that meaning much to anyone apart from the vamps and the magical community. Your average gangster would deem it suitably ghetto, but I knew it was all a facade, a ruse to keep the goons in line and the other unsavory sorts Ivan no doubt dealt with intimidated. It didn't work on me. When you've fought a demon wearing little more than your hat and seen a vampire resurrected all in the space of a day then juvenile gangster drama is like a bad joke.

  What wasn't a joke was the goon on the steps. As we crossed the broken concrete, weeds pushing through the gaps, he scowled at us from his position on the top step, hanging over the railing like he was gonna either shoot us or jump on us.

  "Is that one?" asked Vicky, pointing at the goon like I couldn't see him. She'd been nagging me until my ears bled about seeing vampires ever since she got clobbered and missed the main action last week, and to say I was sick of it was like saying I was chuffed I'd agreed not to smoke so much.

  "It's not like you haven't seen one before," I whispered.

  "Wot you whisperin' 'bout?" asked the goon. He may have been big but his vocabulary was still small.

  "We were just saying how handsome you are," I said. "And that you must be a model." The guy looked like his face was molded out of clay by a three-year-old and it was their first time using the medium. He had a face, sure, but it was just all blobby with bits somehow in the wrong place.

  He loomed, no need to guess why he was hired, frowning at my words, trying to decide whether to smash my nose so it looked like his, or move on to the next stage of his duty.

  "Yes, very handsome," said Vicky, smiling up warmly at the guy. He definitely wasn't a vampire, just one of the old goons. I'd seen him around when he worked for Merrick. Not the brightest but good at what he did, which was be a dumb goon.

  Beaten by Vicky's innocent charm, he grunted and beckoned us to come up the steps. We took them slow, one at a time, then stood beside the large man on the cramped space outside the old factory door.

  I turned to look at the unpleasant scenery, having to acknowledge that Ivan had chosen his new base of operations wisely. Sited at blind spots and junctions, high on other buildings and the ancient conveyor belts, were men. Serious, capable men patrolling or as still as statues, half very obvious, making their presence known, the others so nondescript and average looking you forgot they were there and looked away, mind drifting to other things. Vampires. Not Seconds, but capable nonetheless. Maybe they had a system set up now whereby you had to prove your worth doing stuff like this before you got to level up. I made a mental note to ask.

  I turned back to the door, annoyed for having let my attention wander, and found the goon and Vicky deep in an intimate conversation about the joys of board games. They were both smiling and talking like they'd known each other for years. How she did that was a mystery, but I had to admit it was a skill that came in handy and one I was seriously lacking. I would have just annoyed the dude and got into trouble. Vicky used charm instead, which was better as it left less bruises.

  The goon seemed to come to his senses as he realized I was staring and he ground his teeth, turned his smile upside down, and said, "You're expected. In."

  We stepped forward and a meaty hand shot out. I was halfway to my wand before the hand touched Vicky but he rested it gently on her shoulder, no malice, and said, "Sorry luv, boss wants to see The Hat alone."

  I nodded at Vicky, and miracle of miracles, she smiled and took a step back.

  Wow, maybe she was learning. Or maybe she wanted to discuss Monopoly further.

  More than likely she was thinking of a way to worm her way in by sweet-talking the goon. I left them to it and stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me and I went to meet a vampire.

  Off on the Wrong Foot

  I walked across a steel gantry with heavy duty mesh for a floor, open on all sides to the vast warehouse. It was littered with the dismantled remains of machinery, disparate parts looking like alien lifeforms sprouting from the concrete. Glass and debris had been cleared from the open delivery doors where vehicles parked out of sight, more goons and vamps on guard duty.

  At a large mezzanine office building, I paused, noting a stairway leading from the ground floor had been cut away, this now the only access point.

  Ivan had definitely taken precautions and it was suitably impressive if somewhat OTT if you ask me.

  I knocked and the door was opened.

  In I went.

  The main room was large, very clean and tidy, with several doors along the wall to my right leading to offices used for very different purposes now.

  There was little of style in the room apart from a few nice rugs and paintings, the atmosphere subdued with brand new blinds installed and closed.

  Cozy it was not, what with the goons and vamps lurking in the numerous shadows created by cleverly positioned lamps.

  I scowled at the room in general and I must have done the same to Ivan sat behind an ancient, scarred desk left behind along with filing cabinets and other office paraphernalia.

  "I detect an issue. Is there a problem, Arthur?" Ivan looked genuinely perplexed and even a little disappointed I wasn't happier to see him.

  "Why would there be?"

  "I honestly don't know. Why don't you enlighten me?" Ivan shifted in his boss chair, swiveling sideways to stretch out his long, crane-like legs.

  "That," I said pointing to the stacks piled up on tables aligned along a wall.

  "You want some?" he asked, eyes twinkling for a moment before the humor vanished.

  "No," I snapped. "And I thought you were gonna change how things happened around here?" I knew I was pushing it. Ivan was part good guy but
he was kingpin of the local underworld and you didn't achieve that unless you were willing to do whatever it took.

  "Arthur, Arthur, for someone so wise you really are an utter twat at times. What, you think I can just pull all the heroin off the streets and that's it, everyone goes legit and everyone's happy? No more addicts, no more pimps and dealers and scammers and folks willing to do anything for their next fix?"

  "Don't patronize me. I heard the news. You've upped your game, taken over every single dealer's patch and your gear is all there is. You own the heroin trade now and you're making fat stacks."

  "And I shall continue to do so for many, many years to come. You don't live in the same world as me, Arthur. You and your games with Cerberus, with your wizards, the items you steal, the magic and the money you deal with are out of most people's league, if they even believed in it in the first place. Down here in the dirt, where most people live, every day is a struggle. Sure, I'm not against earning, and I'm enjoying being the boss, but I am not, and never will be, a drug dealer."

  "Yet you have piles of wrapped heroin in your office."

  "I do," he agreed. "And my men sell it for a fair price and I make a fair profit. Plus," he added pointedly, "it's clean. No crap in it."

  "Well that makes it all right then." I was getting angry and knew it was pointless, but I couldn't help it.

  "There will come a time, years from now, when this city will be mostly dry, but it will never be free of drugs. Those days are long gone and will never return. If I don't control all of it, at least here, then someone else will. Drugs are where the money is, even Merrick was smart enough to know that, and if I want to retain my position, and do the best I can, then I must have control of the drug trade. I'll try to phase it out, to help those in need, ease them off it, but there will always be plenty that want it. Such is the way of things."

  "You're right, I apologize. I don't like heroin, Ivan, it does too much damage."

  "I know. But it is what it is," he said, and sighed.

  Was he on the level? Was he making excuses for the cash that rolled in or was he genuinely trying to make things better? I wasn't too proud to admit when I was wrong, I had plenty of practice at it after all, and the way he spoke, the little I knew of the man, made me believe he might be. How could you wipe out such things? If not him then someone else, right? Did that make it right? No. But I certainly wouldn't want to be in his position.

  But there was also the fact he chose this life, took over when he had the chance, and was still profiting from the misery of others. Life's complicated all right, and above all else there was one truism that always held. Better the devil you know.

  "We good?"

  I nodded. "We're good. Sorry about the outburst."

  "No need to apologize." Ivan was steely eyed, cold, and I think what he said was as much for the retinue standing in the shadows, absorbing what he said, as for me.

  I nodded. Message received.

  "Now, I hear you killed one of my people this morning." Ivan leaned forward as he spun his chair to face me head on, steeled his hands, and the goons closed in from all directions.

  "Who told you that?" I asked, watching Ivan's people from the corner of my eye, knowing now was probably a bad time to go for my wand. Sudden movements made gangsters jittery, especially vampire shifter ones.

  "The bloke in the corner you failed to notice." Ivan looked at me curiously then, mulling something over before he spoke. He waved the men back then asked what was on his mind.

  "Tell me something, Arthur. How is it that you've managed to live this long? I mean, that's pretty sloppy, if you don't mind me saying so. You missed a whole person that was in the same room as you. Granted, he was in a corner and under a sleeping bag and probably a load of crap, but still."

  "I haven't," I said. "I've died several times."

  "Ah, that explains it. You'll have to tell me about it some time."

  "Maybe."

  "So, about my dead employee?" hinted Ivan.

  It was weird having such a conversation with him. For years, when he was Brains, he was monosyllabic, standing to attention next to Merrick, whispering in his ear, guiding and helping him with his business, never uttering more than a word. But that had been a forced arrangement, one I still didn't understand and wasn't sure I ever would, and this was not Brains, this was Ivan. Boss, shifter, vampire, drug dealer, murderer. Dude in charge.

  "Arthur, are you daydreaming again?"

  "Sorry, I'm tired. It's been a funny week."

  "Oh, haha, it has, hasn't it?"

  "Yeah, it has. Right, the dead dude. This is personal, can we have some privacy?"

  He nodded to his guys and they filed out. The last one closed the door behind him.

  "So?"

  "George told me something this morning, about him. Maybe you didn't know the rumors regards his taste for young girls, maybe you did, I don't know, but seems he took a shine to my little girl. The one you saved from the vampires," I added, "and I found out about it."

  "Say no more." Ivan held up a hand and although he tried to hide it I saw the tears forming. I'd hit a nerve. I knew that some form of abuse was linked to his time with Merrick, along with a darker secret, and this was an unwelcome reminder. "You should have come to me. I would have given him a punishment worthy of such a crime."

  "Some things are personal, gotta be done yourself. You understand?"

  Ivan nodded. "I do. Only too well." I recalled how he'd kicked and raged at the body of Merrick after he was dead, and knew at the time Ivan had wished he could have been the one to end the man's life.

  "So there you go, I did it, yeah. For George."

  "How is she?"

  "She's with Sasha, a friend."

  "You mean your faery godmother?"

  I didn't recall ever having spoken to him about Sasha, certainly not telling him about what she was. Guess Ivan had been doing some research now he was the boss. "That's the one," I said trying to hide my surprise.

  "I've always believed in magic, Arthur, how could I not? Last week was a revelation though, and since then I've been finding out many things about many people, and have learned a lot."

  "I bet you have."

  "So be warned, Arthur "The Hat" Salzman, do not take me for a fool like Merrick. I believe, and I am not like him."

  "I know," was all I managed. Damn but this guy was a mess of contradictions.

  "Well," he said brightly, leaning back, "that's it. No special occasion or anything, just wanted to check in, get you up to speed so to speak. Just so we know where we stand and so there are no misunderstandings."

  "Um, right. Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Okay, not good, I don't like much about what you do, Ivan, never did when it was Merrick in charge, but you're a better man than he ever was, and you saved George, and for that I'll always be grateful."

  "And you still owe me one," he reminded me.

  "And I'm sure one day you'll call in that favor," I said glumly.

  "Oh, you can count on it. Goodbye, Arthur."

  "See ya." I got out of there before anything happened or he thought of a favor I could do him.

  Misunderstanding, my arse. I knew exactly why he'd "requested" a "chat." He wanted to make it absolutely clear who was in charge.

  He could think what he liked. The Hat had seen many gangsters come and go and each and every one of them forgot one thing I always kept at the fore of my mind. There's always some fucker bigger and better than you, and it never pays to think you're anything special.

  I squeezed past large men and nigh on invisible men on the gantry. All of them polite, all of them dangerous, and pulled open the door to outside.

  Vicky and the goon were crouched down on the top step playing a game in the dust with two sticks. Vicky squealed, "I win," as she drew a line through three X's.

  "Another," said the goon, before turning and grunting at me.

  "Sorry, big guy, we gotta go," I said.

  Vicky sprang to her feet, stood on tiptoe
and patted her new buddy on the shoulder. "Better luck next time," she commiserated, then skipped down the steps, ponytail bouncing.

  "Where to?" she asked as we walked back to the car, her oblivious, me feeling all kinds of exposed in the open like this.

  "Time to go find the Ræth Næg."

  "Sweet."

  "Yeah, whatever."

  I missed Pepper. Shame he double-crossed me and got himself killed.

  As we approached the car I paused. I'd forgotten to ask about the vamps, although that was probably for the best. And come to think of it, how come Ivan wasn't all next to invisible like other Seconds? Maybe he was still a Third, or maybe it was because I knew him already. More secrets, more mysteries, but, for now, it wasn't my problem.

  "Arthur?" said Vicky impatiently, car door open.

  "Coming."

  I felt cold eyes and even colder cross hairs focus on my neck and didn't breathe again until I slammed the door closed and started the engine.

  A Lesson

  My head buzzed from Vicky's endless chatter. I almost got out of the car before it had even stopped moving, so keen was I to escape another story about how brilliant her kids would be doing on their trip and how they loved museums and how her husband had begun eating peaches for breakfast and it was gross—don't ask, because I sure as hell didn't.

  There's only so much a guy can take and I was close to strangling either her or her damn hubby just so she'd shut up. Knowing my luck she'd come back and haunt me and I'd get even less peace, so I reluctantly let her live and nodded dumbly, making suitably agreeable sounds until I bailed. Awesome silence enveloped me.

  The peace was short-lived, but I was so close I could taste the sweat of a hundred wizards and it was a thing of beauty.