The Tome of Bill Series: Books 5-8 (Goddamned Freaky Monsters, Half A Prayer, The Wicked Dead, The Last Coven)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Or you could be useful. If you do have some vampire still in you, it would be utterly unprecedented.”

  “You’d be a daywalker,” I said, grinning.

  “Yep...”

  “Or a gaywalker.”

  “Fuck you,” he growled.

  “See what I mean?”

  Sally sighed. If she still had a desk, I had little doubt her fingers would be digging furrows into it at my asinine comment. She was so cute when she was annoyed beyond...

  Purity is key for the First. He shall be your downfall.

  Ed jumped at the outburst from Harry Decker’s skull, now sitting on a bookshelf off to the side.

  “Oh, hush up.” Sally stood up and started looking for something amidst the clutter.

  “Still holding on to that thing?” Ed asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, I think the batteries must be going,” I commented. “That made no fucking sense to me. Anyone have a clue?”

  Harry Decker had been a wizard with a hard-on for killing me. Unfortunately for him, his obsession had ended badly. Sally had retrieved his skull as a gruesome souvenir, unaware that it still had some residual magic left in it. Every so often, it blurted out some prophetic bit of gloom and doom for us. More often than not, it would come to pass, but lately it had apparently been getting desperate. Its last warning - something about us being washed away in a sea of our own sins - had foretold nothing worse than the second floor toilet overflowing. Even in death, Decker was still a dick.

  “Maybe we’re out of hand sanitizer.” Sally found a towel and tossed it over Decker’s skull like it was some kind of fucking parakeet, then turned back to us. “Getting back to the point at hand, any way you look at things, it costs James nothing to take a few minor precautions to keep you alive until such time as we can figure out what role, if any, you play in this mess. Also...”

  “Yeah?” I asked, when she didn’t continue.

  She leaned forward. “You don’t repeat this or I make matching earrings from your scrotums. Got it?”

  We both nodded.

  “I think it might be James’s way of thanking us for saving him.”

  “Then why didn’t he just...”

  “He can’t. Technically, he should have died at Vehron’s hands. We stepped in and stopped that, but knowing the Draculas’ fucked up logic, he still had to publicly shit on our actions - like we soiled his honor or something. This way, he kills multiple birds with one stone - he saves face and helps us.”

  “He could have just said that,” Ed complained. “Instead, he sent a trio of goons to stuff me into a box the second I stepped out of the apartment.”

  “Appearances are everything to the Dracs,” I offered by way of explanation.

  “Yeah, well, appearances are pretty big for me too...especially since I look like I just lost ten rounds in Fight Club.”

  “Aw, I think it looks kind of cute,” Sally said flirtatiously. “Gives you some character.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” she replied, almost causing me to gag on my own bile. “Don’t get your hopes up, though, big boy. All things considered, I don’t foresee us swapping bodily fluids anytime soon.”

  Ed looked crestfallen for a moment, but then, much to my horror, he replied, “Never discount the magic of prophylactics.”

  Oh, Jesus Christ, they were not doing this with me in the room!

  “Sorry, stud,” she said, “but I’ve always been a bareback kinda girl.”

  “Okay, can we get back to non-disturbing topics, like vampires wanting to crush my roommate’s skull in?” I fixed both of them with a glare of death. Goddamn, I really didn’t need to be the meat in this sandwich - a continual reminder of my own lack of immediate prospects. “Speaking of roommates, is Tom okay?”

  “Better than okay,” Ed replied, thankfully dropping the subject of boning Sally. “The tenants in our old place have been moving out in droves. Most of Christy’s coven took over their leases. I won’t lie. Living in witch central does translate into a better night’s sleep these days.”

  “Cool. Any of them single?” I asked half-heartedly.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Sally interrupted, “but it’s time, Bill.”

  “What?” I looked at my watch. Fuck! “C’mon; can’t we skip a day? I mean, it’s practically a celebration here.”

  “Then you can celebrate downstairs. Now let’s go.” She stood and pointed to the exit.

  “What’s up?” Ed asked, confused.

  “Only the most hilarious part of my day. You’re welcome to come along if you want. There’s nothing quite like watching Bill’s combat training.”

  Training Day

  I’d been pretty down in the dumps when I’d first joined Pandora Coven. It stung finding out that Sheila had moved on. The only thing keeping me from blubbering like a little baby had been the misconceptions I’d had about my new gig.

  In between fights for survival in an increasingly hostile world, I figured I’d at least get some downtime surrounded by multitudes of T&A. That’s only logical, right? You get a job at one of the premiere strip clubs in Vegas and you expect a few perks, like heavily discounted lap dances. Things like that can go a long way toward mending a broken heart.

  Not so much with Sally as the proprietor. It didn’t help that, unlike Village Coven, most of the vamps under Sally’s rule were a by-the-book bunch. Sure, there was Kara, but Sally had read me the riot act before we’d even first stepped through the door - not that she needed to. I mean, jeez, she was Tom’s baby sister. It’s not like I would’ve thought...well, I would’ve thought about it, but I wouldn’t have tried - much.

  My next mistake was in thinking my various interactions with the other vamps would be the same. I’ll admit to having run Village Coven fairly loosely. Usually, I’d show up on the weekends, grouse about how Sally was fucking things up, yell at anyone for being too...well...vampiric when it came to hunting humans, and occasionally sit around and watch the more attractive members jiggle for a little while. All in all, it wasn’t a particularly demanding gig - minus the occasional assassination attempt, coven war, mage bombings, and the like.

  I had been considered the coven master on paper, but Sally had been my partner all along, so I assumed our relationship would continue along that path. In that, I was likewise wrong. These days, if she said I needed an ass-kicking, my status as the formerly unique Freewill didn’t mean shit.

  I contemplated this as I slammed upside down into the solid concrete wall. Judo was quite the effective combat technique. Adding vampire strength to it made it utterly brutal - cool to watch, but a lot less fun to experience.

  “Again.”

  I peeled myself off the perpetually damp floor. The subbasement wasn’t technically a part of the sewer, but was connected to it. As a result, the humidity was always high and there was always an ever-so-slight background smell of ass. In short, it was gross. Painful, too, because Sally didn’t believe in using mats.

  I turned and faced the large vampire who’d tossed me. He was a big guy, about six-foot-four and a former bouncer, according to Sally. His name was Brock, but I always referred to him as John Holmes behind his back - mainly on account of the ridiculous porno-stache he wore. Jeez, one of these days I was gonna have to break it to this guy that the seventies were over. For now, though, I did as Sally ordered and once again approached my larger, and much better trained, opponent.

  It wasn’t quite boot camp, but Sally insisted on a training regimen for all vampires under her leadership - especially me. Don’t get me wrong - some of it was cool. I mean, watching Kara and the other girls train was great fun in a Dolemite or Sin City sort of way. The mental image of walking into a strip club, failing to tip one of the girls, and receiving a proper kung fu smack-down in return was an awesome one.

  Where I was concerned, though, it mostly just hurt.<
br />
  Brock and I began to circle each other in the dim torchlight of the subterranean enclosure. He was larger and more skilled, but he wasn’t a very old vampire. Although the concept was somewhat laughable, I actually had a small leg up on him in terms of strength. He was also a petty goon, possessing far more brawn than brains. So, in theory, this was a fair fight.

  In actual practice...

  “Sweep the leg!”

  I turned to where my roommate stood watching the sparring match, a smirk upon his face. “What the fuck are you...?” and found myself airborne again. Fucking dickhead. I was an idiot for having even acknowledged him - especially since he’d been doing the same goddamned thing nearly every day in the two weeks since he’d arrived.

  Sally walked over to where I lay and looked down upon me. “Distraction is the enemy.”

  “So is being a smug bitch.” I reached out, grabbed her ankle, and knocked her legs out from beneath her. It was petty as all hell, but I got a shit-ton of satisfaction watching her ass smack down on the dirty concrete.

  Brock opened his mouth to laugh, but caught himself before it could escape. He might’ve been built like a moose, but I’d seen Sally take on bigger and badder foes. Ed wasn’t quite so discreet, and a quick huff of laughter escaped his throat. Normally, a glare from Sally would’ve silenced him. We’d all played that game, but before she could react, Brock was across the room and had slammed Ed against the far wall by way of his throat. Shit! Never underestimate a vampire to either puss out or look for an opportunity to suck up to a superior.

  “Humans do not laugh at their betters,” he snarled.

  I’m sure Ed would’ve had something to say had his windpipe not been in the process of being constricted. I scrambled to my feet, ready to peel Brock off of my friend, but Sally beat me to the punch...figuratively, at least.

  “Drop him,” she said casually as she stood and dusted herself off.

  “He dared to mock you,” Brock replied, flashing his fangs at Ed.

  My roommate turned a sickly shade of purple as way of response.

  “Then he is mine to punish. Not yours.”

  “But this human...”

  “Is a member of my coven,” she interrupted, making no move toward him. She could’ve torn him apart, but I began to understand that some challenges were best won with words. Psychological scars could run much deeper than physical ones, especially for a species that healed as fast as we did. “I have decreed it, and so has the First Coven. Are you trying to tell me you disagree?”

  Brock hesitated for a moment, uncertainty on his face. Heh. Vamps were suckers for name dropping. Finally, he let go of my roommate, who doubled over and sucked in a great gasp of air, the color returning to his face.

  “Now get the fuck upstairs,” she said in an even tone as she turned away dismissively. “And take the others with you.” She walked over to the far corner to a small weapons locker, where she put in the key, then punched in a code to unlock it. She began rooting around inside of it as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

  Brock glared at Ed, but that was the extent of his bravery. Rather than risk pissing off Sally any further, he nodded toward the two vampires standing guard at the massive metal gate that led to the tunnel connecting the subbasement with the sewers. Together, they climbed up to the club’s storage room. A few moments later, the booming sound of the heavy trapdoor shutting rang out in the room.

  Sally bent over the weapons locker for a moment longer, a distinct dirt stain showing on the ass of her jeans from when I’d knocked her down. Oh yeah, target sighted. When she stood up straight, she held three weapons in her hands. She walked over to Ed and handed him one. “Brock is going to give you shit again.”

  “So you want me to plug him with this?” he asked, hefting the Glock. “I prefer my shotgun.”

  “No, that’s for target practice. We’re doing that next.”

  “Oh. So, what, you want me to tell you if he tries anything?”

  “Yeah,” I added. “You could put him under that ninety-day protection thing, like James did for me.”

  Sally rolled her eyes, then turned back to him. “Do I look like your mommy?”

  Ed appeared to contemplate a response, but then reason took over and he kept his mouth shut. Sally was, after all, now armed.

  “Don’t wait for it. I want you to start in with him first. Then, when he gets nice and pissed, let him bite you.”

  “What?!” Ed and I cried in unison.

  “You heard me. The others aren’t going to take your coven status seriously otherwise. They’re either gonna think you’re a thrall or my pet, regardless of what I say. I have little doubt that an example will need to be made. That being said, I’m not willing to leave such a sacrifice to chance. Brock is, to put it bluntly, both an asshole and a coward. He won’t be missed, and this way, he’ll be doing the others a service in his passing.”

  “Damn, you are cold,” I commented.

  She tossed one of the handguns to me. “You have no idea,” she said as she raised the one she still held and shot me in the kneecap.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The subbasement was pretty well insulated, so it made for both a perfect vampire sparring ring and makeshift firing range. Thus, it was no surprise at all that my screams didn’t attract any undue attention from the club. I’m sure some of the squatters still living in the tunnels close by heard it, but by now, they were probably so used to odd noises coming from the direction of Pandora’s Box that they took it in stride.

  Thank goodness too. I so dislike bothering people when I’m experiencing the agony of a 9mm slug slamming into my leg. I’d hate to inconvenience anyone into doing anything silly, like racing to my side with a first-aid kit.

  The pain finally abated a bit as my healing kicked in. The sight of the bullet being pushed out of my knee as the flesh and bone knitted itself back together almost distracted me from the agony. On the upside, at least it hadn’t been a silver bullet. If that were the case, I would’ve spent the next several hours crying for my mother like a little kid on his first foray to sleepover camp.

  “Overreacting just a little bit?” I growled when I could finally trust my tongue again.

  “Not at all,” Sally replied as she topped off the magazine on her handgun. “I was actually impressed by your counterattack. It tells me you’ve been paying attention.”

  “Then why...”

  “The bullet was for doing it in front of Brock. Did you see that fucker’s face?” She held up two fingers side by side. “He came that close to laughing at me. I don’t need that shit from the newbs.”

  I glared at her, then eyed the gun she’d tossed my way before the screaming had begun.

  “Not recommended,” she chided. “Your fighting has gotten better, but you still shoot like shit. Speaking of which, get your ass up and let’s go. I don’t have all night. I want to be done before the next patrol gets back.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Sally had her patrols down to a science, or so she claimed. Every day, at varying times, a group of five would head down into the sewers - two mages and three vampires. Their mission was simple: hunt down and eliminate any Jahabich, or however you pronounced it, that they found. The random timing was in case our foes started to grow wise to the strategy.

  The Jahabich were nasty fuckers; shape-shifters whose true forms were that of granite-bodied monstrosities with glowing orange eyes and obsidian teeth that made vampire fangs seem very inadequate by comparison. According to Sally, they’d first appeared in the tunnels beneath the city when those freaky storms had started, following our fuckery up in the Woods of Mourning - the place where we’d accidentally started a supernatural war. Their attacks had originally seemed to coincide with the storms.

  After decimating the population of homeless that lived beneath the streets of Vegas, they’d eventually grown ballsy enough to target the casinos themselves. Around that time, Sally ha
d somehow come into mastery of Pandora Coven through means she never really fully explained to me. She’d somehow convinced the population of Magi that called Vegas home, mostly masquerading as stage magicians, to team up with her and begin fighting back.

  Things now stood at a stalemate of sorts. The patrols had cleared most of the upper tunnels of the ugly dickheads. In fact, their presence seemed to be diminishing now that those supernatural storms were hitting with far less frequency. Sadly, the end of the storms, rather than signaling positive change, indicated that the two sides of the war were done flexing their muscles and were now ready for a good, old-fashioned, world-ending throw-down.

  The only question now was: how much longer were we expected to sit here in exile of sorts? The power might be out, but we could still catch the occasional radio report to know how things were going. With towns disappearing left and right, swallowed by forest, I had to think the vampire nation would eventually want us to do something a bit more productive than sewer patrol.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Sally has a point. You do still suck.”

  “What? I hit the target almost a dozen times.”

  “And missed it almost five dozen.”

  “You shouldn’t talk,” Sally said to Ed as she cleaned her weapon. “You were right; you should stick to a shotgun.”

  “Told ya.”

  A noise from off in the sewer tunnel caught our ears. Well, mine and Sally’s anyway. “What time is it?” she asked.

  I glanced down at my wristwatch - thank goodness I’d invested in a rugged sports model. “Almost ten.”

  She nodded. “Kristofer’s team should be heading back about now.” She reached into her pocket and tossed her key ring to me, which I caught. “Want to go let them in?”

  “Sure.” I walked down the ramp that led to the tunnels beyond. Normally, it would be manned almost twenty-four seven. All of the vamps under Sally’s banner got a turn at guard duty - well, all except for Sally herself. Bitch!

  The only time guards weren't stationed at the post was typically when she and I trained. It would give us a chance to talk without the overly sensitive ears of other vamps listening in and hearing something that they shouldn’t. The side benefit of this was twofold: there were no eyewitnesses for me to embarrass myself in front of, and it gave Sally and me some alone time - something that I’d been increasingly enjoying despite her often violent disposition. Of course, now Ed had started joining us during these sessions. There’s always gotta be a third wheel.