Wildcat Wizard Books 4-6, page 1
Contents
Title Page
ANGEL EYES
- Bloody Noobs
- Wakey, Wakey
- Deal
- No Deal
- Home at Last
- Curse My Brain
- A Bad Feeling
- Wombling Free
- Grungy
- Muscle Time
- Time to Feast
- Nathan
- A Sickness
- Up It Comes
- Haha
- The Warehouse
- Lots of Stuff
- Panic
- Vicky to the Rescue
- Doing It In Style
- Mom Stuff
- Satan Breathes
- Dirty Again
- Surprise
- Time to Go
- About Time
- Things Get Freaky
- A Ruse
- Barely Contained
- A Delivery
- The Hat
- The Tale Continues
- Bump
- Meeting Gangsters
- Let's Do This
- A Mistake
- Peekaboo
- Emergency
- A Holiday
- Seriously?
- Sleepy Kids
- A Plan
- A Walk
- Itchy Leg
- What Now?
- A Bad Habit
- Back and Forth
- Peace
- Wow
- Here We Go
- Alone and Dangerous
- Feathers
- Goddamn
- You Wanna Piece?
- That Tingly Feeling
- Blame Me
- Telling Tales
- Introductions
- Walking the Streets
- Just When You Think You're Out
- Strange
- Yes!
- Are You Kidding?
- No Respite
- Here Goes
- A Big Question
HONOR BOUND
- Charming!
- They Never Learn
- Better Late Than Never
- A Chat and a Drive
- Swanky
- Nice House
- Wiping the Slate Clean
- Selling My Soul
- The Truth About Vampires
- Going Home
- Panic Stations
- Date with Trouble
- A Pit Stop
- Who Me?
- Wowzer
- A Warm Bed
- Crowded Kitchen
- Saying Goodbye
- Getting It Together
- Vicky's Plan
- No Plan
- My Plan
- No Time Like the Present
- My Gang
- Smelly and Hairy
- More Old Wizards
- The Final Piece
- Bad Choices
- And So It Begins
- A Very Long Drive
- Here We Go
- Close Encounters
- Doors Schmoors
- I Hate Him
- A Depressing Exit
- No More Fun and Games
- Welcome Home
- What Number is This?
- Not Again
- Gonna Be a Long Night
- An Understanding
- Lumpy Bed
- Questions and More Questions
- Wand of a Unicorn
- Plans
- Perfection
- Awkward Introductions
- Out On My Own
- This Will Hurt
- You Die, I Die, We All Die
- A Realization
- Time for Revenge
- Bad News
- Goodbye to Love
- Some Lists are Short
- Crushing Realizations
- Back to Work
- A House Full
- Schemes
- Normal? What's Normal
- Satan's Breath
- Resolute
- War
- The Lion's Den
- Guess Who's Back?
- One More Go
- Bit Spooky
- Laying Down the Law
- Vampire Melee
- It's Personal
- Feeling Left Out
- Almost Had It
- An Unexpected Twist
- Time to Scarper
- Time to Think
- An Aha Moment
- Uncaged
- Time to Reflect
- It All Sucks
- Equestrian Bliss
LOST HOPE
- Weird Start
- All Worth It
- It's a Mad Life
- Why Do I Bother?
- Into the Lab
- Mommy's Boy
- Didn't See That Coming
- A Moment
- Time to Go
- Wagging Fingers
- A Telling Off
- One Thing After Another
- Sparkly Room
- Confusion
- Clutchy Hands
- What's Next?
- Depressing Skies
- Searching for Clues
- Motivation
- A Brittle Bed
- Feeling Frisky
- Less Than Useless
- Frayed Nerves
- Hitting the Wall
- Sleepover From Hell
- Muppet in the House
- Rude Awakening
- A Mystery
- All Alone
- Priorities
- The Scene of the Crime
- Freaky Goings On
- Getting Annoyed
- Interrupted Musings
- Let's Get it On
- That Wobbly Feeling
- Strange Plaything
- The Problem With Faeries
- A Trip Down Memory Lane
- A Clue, At a Price
- Telling Tales
- A Long Short Walk
- Reminiscing
- A Reality Check
- Wet
- Eerily Empty
- Stating the Obvious
- A Cliche
- Cells
- Lonesome Faeries
- Not What You Think
- Attempts at Madness
- Back in the Mad World
- Tug of War
- Good, or Very Bad?
- Naughty Boy
- The Gang's All Here
- Casualties
- A Long Night
- A New Dawn
- Bad Timing
- A Strange Confession
- An Eyeful
- Big Reveal
- A Tangled Mess
- A Confrontation
- Who Are You?
- Pandemonium
- Great Timing
- Old Lady Wrath
- Looks Familiar
- A Realization
- Hunting
- Cat and Mouse
- True Colors
- Hardly a Surprise
- An End to Madness
- Last Minute Sleuthing
- More Questions
Wildcat Wizard Books 4-6
Angel Eyes
Honor Bound
Lost Hope
Al K. Line
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Copyright © 2016, Al K. Line. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Angel Eyes
Wildcat Wizard Book 4
Bloody Noobs
"Damn, my hat," I cursed as I snatched out a hand to catch it whilst sliding on the soaking grass. Okay, I fell on my arse and got my jeans muddy, but it's better if you picture me making a cool move and grabbing my hat before it lands, rather than it falling in a puddle as I flail about like a landed fish.
Which was how I felt.
I retrieved my hat—Grace is her name—from the puddle, tugged her tight onto my head, then clambered to my feet. "Hurry up," I shouted at the massive wolf-cum-housewife-cum-whatever-the-hell that bounded towards me, then I was off, arms pumping furiously, cursing the rain, the mud, the state of my clothes, the economy, the fact chocolate bars were now so small I always had to buy two, that milk didn't come in glass bottles any more, and life itself.
"Don't know why I bother," I muttered through clenched teeth before I spat out a sod of turf and sprinted for all I was worth.
The wolf, which was actually my numpty of a sidekick, Vicky, housewife from hell and annoying mini-mom most of the time, lurched past me, unconcerned by the terrain or the rain, and I swear she smiled a smug smile as I chased her tail. But canines can't smile, although I wouldn't put it past her as she knew it would wind me up.
"You won't be laughing in a minute," I hollered, but the driving wind and rain was pounding us so hard I doubt she heard. She knew though, knew we were almost out of time, which explains the running and why we were so frantic.
Dawn was less than half an hour away, then the full moon would wane, even if the day promised to be dark and dull and
Don't get me wrong, I loved Vicky with all my heart, but she was damn annoying and ever since she discovered she could turn once a month if she so wished, she'd gone out of her way to do so. Meaning, every bloody month since summer I had to get her out of one ridiculous scrape or another as she kept fucking up. She'd learned how to remain sane and to think clearly when she changed, but only just, yet lost control, at least briefly, every time she shifted. Let's just say there weren't many bunnies left in the local area and leave it at that.
Tonight wasn't just her fault though, this was one of those times when crap happened the way it often did when a job seemed too easy. Cerberus again, interfering and causing me grief, and I'd had just about enough of them now. Once again, and this time I was serious, Nathan, the posh twat of a face of Cerberus, had to die. I'd kill him. He promised to leave us alone, leave me alone, yet his goons were after us. I was sick of these games.
Yes, in case you haven't noticed, the weather was making me grumpy. Plus, I wanted my breakfast.
Rain turned to a deluge, visibility cut almost to zero, and I was fighting so hard to keep moving as the ground became a shallow river that I forgot I could have kept myself at least mostly dry if I activated the energy stored in my hat. It could expand a simple shield like an invisible umbrella, but at the moment it had defaulted to keeping the top of my head dry and nothing else.
I tucked my chin in and kept going, the rain horizontal now, Vicky's wolf form nothing but a blurry shadow a few paces ahead. Damn, but she was intimidating like that. I risked a glance behind, and smirked as I caught sight of the two surviving goons, the amateur bitches, flailing about in the mud.
"Oomf." I smacked into something wet and went down in a mess of mud. I wiped my eyes only to be confronted with the tiny wet ass of Vicky, my nose almost crammed somewhere it definitely ought not to be—she was married after all—and also, she was Vicky, and I was me. "Ugh, move it, move it," I ordered, voice muffled by wet, wobbly, muddy bum flesh.
Vicky shook her booty and cackled as I shoved at her behind, pushing myself away across the slick ground.
"You picked one hell of a time to shift," I yelled over the rain.
Vicky tried to gain purchase, got nowhere, and fell flat on her stomach again. "Feeling tired," she whined, then rolled over and winked. "Give me a hand?" She lifted a scrawny arm and I sighed.
"You gotta stop doing this," I moaned, hauling her tiny body up.
"You love it," she said, so damn perky and happy I couldn't help but smile even though I was trying to look gruff and angry. Which I guess I did, what with my long brown hair clinging to my face and neck, my sodden leather jacket, my combats that were sticking to my legs, and general permanently grumpy, what people called "lived in" face.
"I love it more when I'm dry, have been paid, and eaten my breakfast," I grunted as I slung her over my shoulder then patted my pocket to make sure I still had my prize. The book was still there, and would be dry, as good wizard thieves always carry ziplock bags, so not everything was going wrong.
"Vicky?"
She snored, the comedown from her transformation having the usual effect, so I moved as fast as I could and plowed on through the rain, hoping the goons wouldn't catch us, knowing they were having an even worse time of it than me.
The quagmire changed to compact gravel as I made it to a path and sped up, legs like lead, back killing even though Vicky weighed less than a bag of groceries, and I got to the car. I opened the back door, threw her in, and annoyingly she didn't wake up to complain, shut the door, got in the driver's side, and sped off.
Before I hit third gear, the rear window exploded with the sound of gunfire, I was sideswiped, and I broke my nose on the steering wheel.
"Fucking rain," I moaned.
Hi, I'm Arthur "The Hat" Salzman. Welcome to my life. Seriously, you're welcome to it. Take it, I'll even pay.
Wakey, Wakey
Vicky screamed from the cramped footwell in the back where she'd rolled off the seat. I groaned and touched my nose, then yelped—I should have learned by now, but every time I broke my nose I had to touch it, and it always hurt. Sighing, I unbuckled, yanked the Velcro free on my custom pocket, and pulled out my wand.
"Stay here. Go back to sleep," I said as I turned and nodded at Vicky.
"Haha, very funny," she said, eyes widening as she realized she was naked, legs sprawled in a most unladylike manner.
I turned front as she scrambled to cover herself with a blanket; served her right for being a bloody lycanthrope. Noob.
I winced as I shoved the door open and something shifted in my ribcage, but it didn't feel broken so I guess that was good news. What wasn't good news was the black SUV that had hit me. Its tires were screeching as it came to a halt after reversing. As rubber burned, it sped toward me.
Gunshots rang out dully through the rain, so I ducked down, cursed life, the universe, and everything, then forced my will down through my aching arm and into the warm wood of my hand-carved wand. Sigils activated, shining bright umber like a beacon of hope when all was darkness, and I smiled, then sneered, as I raised the wand and blasted a tire. It burst in a most impressive way, and metal screeched, sending sparks flying. It was quite pretty.
The driver overcompensated, the amateur, as he began to slide, and veered off to the right, smacking into a lamppost, resulting in the horn blaring, the car buckled, and air bags activated.
Another shot rang out, trashing the door panel, and I crouched lower then ran around to the passenger side as footsteps splashed across soaked asphalt. Pissed off, and knowing I couldn't get any wetter, I dropped flat and, as the muddy black shoes of a Cerberus goon, what they liked to call Hounds, stopped where I'd been a moment earlier, I let rip with the trusty wand. Power like sick lightning erupted from the tip and disintegrated the guy's foot.
He slumped to the ground and we locked eyes for a moment. "Bad day to screw with me," I growled, readying to explode his head. His eyes widened with fear and pain, and then I let rip.
I looked away as the energy surged and spat from my wand, I'm squeamish like that. Rolling back, I clambered to my feet, stormed over to the SUV, and as two guys half fell from the vehicle, slipping as they tried to run, I shouldered one in the back so he smacked his head on the door and went down. Whirling, I blasted the other one through the open door, but he was fast and I only got a glancing blow to his shoulder.
He turned and fired, but I was already on top of the guy I'd downed, so I used the wand to pierce his brain through an ear. There's no point wasting magic when you don't have to. Then I grabbed his gun, fired a few rounds, hightailed it to the rear of the car, and as the last Hound crouched behind the driver's door I shot out the glass then took careful aim and fired again. Half his face blew off, landing in the dirt on a nondescript road.
Thoroughly depressed, I threw away the gun, hunched my shoulders, and ambled back to my car. The engine was still running, so I turned up the heater, pulled out my phone, made a call to the Cleaner, and put my seatbelt back on.
"Arthur, you could have just driven off," chastised Vicky as she tugged a tiny red sweater over a ponytail pulled tighter than my nerves.
"And you could have shifted a few minutes later and this wouldn't have happened."
"It's not my fault," she moaned, poking out her tongue.
"Whatever. Put some jeans on," I ordered as I glanced in the rearview mirror.
"I'm trying, but I think I've put on weight." Vicky wriggled about as she slid her jeans up, and I sighed.
"Don't start. If you get any more skinny you'll have to buy kids' clothes. Oh, wait, you already do."
"Just shoes," Vicky shouted. Why, I have no idea, but she was like that. "Um, and socks. And sometimes jumpers if they're in the sale."
"Put your seatbelt on," I said, forcing myself to remain calm. We drove off back to the city she called home and where most of my business was centered.
"Do you still have it?" Vicky asked once she was buckled up.
I opened the hidden zipper of my jacket—yes, I like a lot of pockets—pulled out the sealed book no larger than my hand, with a black cover and black pages, seemingly devoid of words but screaming DANGER as it oozed weird magic, and said, "Sure do."
She smiled, I smiled; another job well done.
Deal
"I can do it on my own. I managed fine before you. I'm the bloody professional here," I lectured, more exasperated by the second.
