Sharp Edges (Wildcat Wizard Book 12), page 2
"Stop swinging that massive sword around," she moaned. See, told you.
"If you weren't so short it wouldn't look so big. Maybe grow and it would just cut your legs rather than your head.
Vicky checked her ponytail was still there and scowled at me. But she had a skip in her step and I knew she was having fun. She loved this stuff. Considering she was meant to be the tech-savvy one who hacked into things to make my life easier, she sure did enjoy the violence and danger.
Staying at home and looking after the kids was something she loved, and she did everything for her girls, but she needed the adventure or she'd spiral down, and hard, like she had so often in the past. I guess I was indulging her a little doing this job, and frankly, I was bored out of my mind not doing anything naughty. Maybe I was indulging us both.
Anyway, job done, all sorted, back to being good and trying not to die.
Famous last words, right?
All Done
Vicky knocked on the high gloss door and hopped from foot to foot like an excited child, which was apt because she looked like one and wore kids' clothes.
Several minutes later, Ivan opened the door.
"What, no aide?" I asked.
"You kidding?" he snapped with a scowl.
"Guess not."
Ivan shuffled down the hallway so we followed behind. His shoulders were slumped, his usually slick hair was hanging forward, and he looked paler and more scrawny than ever. Like a preying mantis yet to unfurl after a long sleep. He was getting worse at being awake during the daytime and often took hours to fully come round, but this wasn't the vampire nature taking an ever-increasing hold, this was sheer weariness by the looks of it.
We followed Ivan into his office, the largest room in the house, acting as much as a living room, dining room, you name it, as just a place to have a desk. It was furnished in typical Ivan style. Lots of antiques, nice large oak desk with green leather inlay, and subdued lighting from numerous lamps. The heavy red drapes were firmly closed.
Ivan slumped into a brown leather wingback and sighed. Vicky and I exchanged a glance then settled ourselves down.
Nobody spoke.
It got weird.
Finally, my diminutive sidekick could contain herself no longer and blurted, "We got the tablet. Aren't you going to ask how it went?"
"Thank you, I knew you would. I imagine Ace tried something foolish, you probably got Arthur into trouble, and he ended up having to kill the tennis freak. Am I right?"
I chortled, Vicky poked her tongue out at me.
"I said I was sorry," she moaned. She got up and placed the tablet on the desk then sat back down, fiddling and messing about, unable to come down from the high.
Ivan mumbled and then lost focus. His tie was askew and his suit was ever-so-slightly crumpled, and if you knew Ivan you knew it meant he was in a bad way.
"Not going so good then, is it?" I asked, wondering if there would be coffee, knowing there wouldn't.
"It's a bloody nightmare. Cerberus really messed things up for everyone. They're stubborn, but we're getting there."
"You mean you're still killing them and they're still killing you?"
"Something like that. I just don't understand it. What do they think they're doing?"
"Beats me." I shrugged. It really was a surprising thing for them to do, and the fact they'd dug their heels in so hard after disrupting things was even more of a mystery. Guess they didn't like losing, same as the rest of us.
More silence. Vicky tapped her foot, I nodded off several times, and Ivan kept staring into the distance.
Eventually I'd had enough, figured I could go home to sleep, or at least try, not that I'd been doing so well lately in that department. After so many years of insomnia it was a true blessing to be able to sleep like a baby once I met Penelope, but now I was back to staring at the ceiling most nights, the mini-death eluding me like it always had. Such is the life of a wizard. Maybe it was the inactivity, maybe it was the fear it would all come crashing down and I'd lose the things I'd always wanted, maybe it was just me getting old.
"Time to go," I said as I stood.
"But we just got here," moaned Vicky, casting a worried glance at Ivan.
"I'm fine, but thank you for your concern, sister. I have work to do. Thank you for retrieving the tablet, and sorry if I seemed ungrateful."
"Hey, no problem," I said as I headed for the hallway.
Vicky stood on tiptoe and gave Ivan a peck on the knee then joined me. We shut the front door behind us and she said, "He's acting weird."
"He's just tired. Poor guy's got a lot on his plate."
"Maybe. Or maybe it's something else. Maybe he needs our help."
I held up my hands in protest. "Whoa there. Don't go getting any ideas. I know you want to help but this is gangster business. It's nasty, it mostly doesn't involve magic, and besides, it's his business, vampire business, not ours. Leave him to it, go home, play with the kids, chill out."
"So that's it? We're done?" she asked, fed up already even though we'd just escaped from a tricky situation an hour ago.
"Yep. Time to go home. Come on, I'm shattered."
I drove her home, much to her protestation, which meant for a very long drive. I should have kept the sword on my lap, one quick swipe and there'd be silence.
Home Time
I arrived home feeling rather upbeat and gently swung my sword to and fro as I crossed the yard. For some reason, the chickens ran away. I smiled as I entered the house and heard eighties pop music coming from the kitchen. Penelope and my beautiful daughter, George, loved to dance around to their own mix tapes. Yes, that's how we rolled in the Hat household.
Almost unable to contain myself, I pulled my boots off and hurried to the kitchen, as excited as I always was to see my family and my awesome kitchen. After a morning fighting bad guys and listening to Vicky drone on, it was my oasis of calm before the inevitable disruption. Things had been quiet lately. Quiet times meant only one thing. Something epic and terrifying was right around the corner.
I lifted my gaze, ready to see my kitchen gleaming and the girls dancing, but was confronted with something altogether different. Damn, I knew George's training in all things witch-related had been going well, and she had mad skills now, but this was downright freaky. Like something right out of Fantasia.
George and Penelope were in the middle of the room on black tiles that gleamed like they never had before. A mop was swishing back and forth and occasionally lifted up, dunked in the bucket, rinsed itself out, then continued its work.
Plates, bowls, cups, and cutlery were bobbing along in ordered lines, stopping when they got to a series of floating tea towels that rubbed them vigorously until they shone. Then the crockery and cutlery obediently sailed over to cupboards and drawers before settling down. Doors eased shut, drawers closed gently, and feather dusters shot into corners to rub away cobwebs from the nooks and crannies between the ancient oak beams.
It was awesome, and scary, because this kind of control meant a high level of magic only possible by someone adept. My little girl had grown into a woman. A force to be reckoned with. Full of magic, powerful, strong, independent, and all of that meant trouble for her. Been there, done that, got the ragged, blood-stained postcard. Her life would never be the same, not that things around here were ever what you'd call "normal" anyway.
She was a witch, half fae, and had one hell of a future in store. I wiped a tear, put on a big smile, and entered the fray.
I immediately got sloshed in the face by an over-eager mop.
Welcome home, Arthur.
Hugs
"Ugh," was all I managed before the mop dropped to the ground and soaked my socks. I waved about in my defense but nothing else attacked.
"Put the sword down, you nutter," shouted George.
"Arthur Salzman, is that a sword in my kitchen?"
"Um, no?" I ventured, hiding it behind my back.
"You know the rules. No weapons in the kitchen, especially huge swords." Penelope put her hands on her hips and I smiled. Damn, I was a lucky man.
"Pretty cool though," said George as she walked behind me and inspected the mighty weapon. It was awesome.
"And where exactly did you get an over sized sword from?" asked Penelope as I gave up trying to hide it and swished it about carefully for them to see. The edge was sharp, almost infinitely so, with a strange red glow to the steel that it was best not to ask about, mainly because I didn't know how it was there. The hilt was inlaid with jewels and gold filigree, with a nice knobbly bit on the end. Not conventional, but it looked damn cool. I wasn't even sure if it was truly magical or not, an artifact or just a fab sword. I couldn't even remember where I got it from.
"I found it," I said. "In with my collection."
"You mean all that junk you keep in the barn?" asked Penelope.
"It's not junk, it's priceless artifacts," I protested.
"I found a pram with three wheels in there the other day," said George helpfully. Both women raised an eyebrow.
"Could be magical," I suggested.
"Is it?" asked my darling wife.
"No." To hide from their glare I went and set the sword back by the front door then returned. The magic show was over now but the music continued to play.
"I'm home," I chorused, smiling and spreading my arms wide, thinking it best to start this again.
"Yay," cheered George and came in for a hug, her auburn hair bouncing and sparkling in the strong sunlight pouring in through the windows.
"Missed you," said Penelope as she came and joined the cuddle party.
We moved to the table and I regaled them with a story of my morning, skipping the gruesome bits as best I could but they both knew what had happened. Penelope gave me a weak smile full of sympathy and still a little awe that I could be so nonchalant about so much death. But she knew the world I inhabited, the kind of man I was even though I tried not to be, and was at peace with it. George was the same, took it all in her stride, was a part of this world and wanted to be, more's the pity.
"And then I came home and got accosted by a mop," I said, finishing the tale.
"Sorry about that," said George with a smile, not looking sorry at all.
"It's okay. Your skills have come a long way," I said.
"She's amazing, isn't she?" Penelope took George's hand and squeezed it, her pride obvious.
"She sure is."
"You guys," said George with a slight blush, pleased by the praise.
"So, what's for lunch? Hope you remember where everything got tidied away."
"We were thinking maybe we'd go out to lunch. That new place by the harbor? It's a lovely day for eating outside."
"Sure thing, honey, sounds good. I'll just go shower and then we can go. Ten minutes?"
They both nodded so I left them to their music while I went to freshen up. It sure was good to be home, no place like it.
Ten minutes later to the second, I buttoned up my shirt and entered the kitchen.
There was nobody there. The music still played, but there was no sign of anyone. I checked upstairs, then the living room, the small den, but the girls were gone. Guess they'd decided to wait outside. I smiled as I put my boots on, looking forward to a few hours relaxing by the harbor over a nice lunch.
Outside there was still no sign. George's mini was there, so was my car, but they were nowhere to be seen. I checked the fields, the paddock, the stables, and then all the barns with a growing sense of panic verging on dread.
It was time to admit it. They'd vanished. No way would they leave me behind like this, and they definitely wouldn't have walked.
Getting Stressed
I dashed back into the house, grabbed the sword, then ran to the car, already deep in the throes of utter, gut-wrenching panic. With the car started, I changed my mind and returned inside, mindless of the mud on my boots, and ran around the house again checking for any sign of anything untoward. There was nothing. No breakages, no damaged locks, my wards were in place and intact, and nothing felt off. But many doors and windows were unlocked so somebody who seemed harmless and had permission could have walked right on in.
But then, if they were harmless, they wouldn't have taken them, would they? Did that mean this was all a joke? Were they giggling in a cupboard somewhere? I checked the panic room, because I sure was panicked, but it was empty, same as the rest of the house.
Only now thinking of it, I called Penelope's phone. It rang from the kitchen counter. George's was in her bedroom. No way would they leave without their phones, that would be like going out without shoes for this pair.
No doubt about it, something bad had happened.
Back at the car, sword still in hand, I came close to having a full-blown panic attack. Dread crept up my spine as I was certain something dreadful would occur. After several deep breaths, I put it on the passenger seat and drove slowly along the lane towards the coast, willing them to be there, to be strolling along country lanes, half hidden by the hedgerows, chatting and laughing.
I didn't find them.
I went to the new restaurant even though I knew it was fruitless, but I had to check. Nope, no sign, and they weren't anywhere else, not that they could have made it this far so quickly on foot anyway.
Out of options, I returned home and performed a very thorough search of every room, every cupboard, every square inch of the barns and stables and came up empty handed. There was now absolutely no denying it. The two women I adored more than anything in this world, who I would lay down my life for without question, were gone.
Only question was, where were they? Oh, and who had taken them? So two questions, I guess.
Backup
I called Vicky then hung up before she answered as what was I thinking? How could she help? She called back several seconds later and immediately asked in an excited voice, "What happened? Is it a job? Is it a cool artifact? What's the payout? I knew you couldn't stay away for long. You had me worried there for a moment. I just need to sort out a babysitter to pick the girls up from school then I'm all yours." See, she really did like to talk.
"Ugh."
"Arthur? Hello? Why aren't you talking?"
"Because you never gave me a chance. It's George, and Penelope. They're gone. I came home, saw them, then had a shower. Now they're gone."
"They're probably out with the horses. Did you check? Maybe they went for a ride."
"I checked. We were going to have lunch."
Vicky was silent for a moment. She knew I would have checked everywhere, wouldn't be saying this unless I was sure.
"They can't have just vanished."
"That's exactly what they've done," I sighed, rubbing at my face like it could somehow help.
"I'll be right there." There was a pregnant pause. "Um, can you come get me?"
"Honestly, I don't know why I called you. You can't help, not now."
"What are you talking about? You called me because we're friends and you need my company. I'm the backup, the smart sidekick, the tech wizard." I was feeling so rotten I didn't even have the heart to correct her.
"Just hang tight. I need to check a few things out and see if I can make sense of this. I'll call you later."
"No, wait. What about the CCTV? Have you checked it?"
"What CCTV?" I didn't have CCTV, did I?
"I installed it six months ago after you asked me to. Don't you remember?"
"No. And how come there's no cameras? I'd see the cameras."
"Arthur, you really are an idiot at times. They're hidden, you dummy. You need to check it. No, wait, I'll do it now."
"I already told you, I can't come and collect you yet."
"I can do it from my laptop. You are such an old man. Get with the times, granddad." I heard Vicky assault her latest laptop—they never lasted long with the punishment she gave them—then there was silence.
"Hello? What did you find out?"
"They just vanished," she whispered. "They were in the kitchen and then they just, you know, vanished."
"Wait there, I'm coming to yours." I hung up and drove like a maniac.
Panic Stations
I skidded to a halt at the barn, jumped out of the car, flung the doors open and was dashing through the Gate of Bakaudif like my life depended on it, which it did in many ways. A future without Penelope and George didn't bear thinking about. They were more important to me than anything, made me complete, grounded me, a bit, and brought joy to an otherwise joyless world. A purity when all around was cruelty.
As I emerged through the other gate into the city house, I grabbed a half-finished mug of cold coffee from the side, uncharacteristic of me to leave such a mess but I'd been keen to get home only a few hours earlier, and downed it in two gulps, then was out the front door and trying to recall what car I was using and where I'd put it. I seriously had to get a better system in place. It was all very well being sneaky and changing vehicles often, parking several streets away from the house, but it meant I spent half my life wondering what I'd driven and often driving cars I only realized several days later weren't actually mine.
I clicked the key fob like it would answer all my prayers until a rather nice black family sedan with all mod-cons beeped its welcome. I was in and away in seconds, the sword beside me on the passenger seat, ready to slice through whoever had taken my family.
Ugh, where were they? What had happened? Were they safe? They bloody better be.
The city's drivers were angry this day, angry at me as I tore through streets and broke every rule in the book. I arrived at Vicky's in record time and let myself in to find her in the kitchen sitting at the breakfast bar, coffee in hand, another opposite her, and her laptop open.
"That's for you. Sit down, drink it, then we'll sort this mess out." Vicky nodded to the still-steaming coffee.
