She screamed in anguish as the blade sank to the bone. The crowd joined her, the difference being their cries were ones of triumph.
That did it. I scrambled to my feet, intent on one thing and one thing only: killing the vampire who had just hurt the woman I loved.
♦ ♦ ♦
Before I could even stand, multiple whistling sounds filled the air. I looked up and saw nearly half a dozen silver stakes buried in the back of the vamp who’d attacked Sheila. A moment later, they clattered to the floor as he turned to ash.
“That will be quite enough,” Alex calmly proclaimed from where he still stood. From the expression he wore, you’d have thought nothing noteworthy had just transpired.
I stood up, fangs bared.
“You as well, Freewill,” he said with the barest nod of his head.
I followed his gaze and saw several more vampire guards, all with stakes at the ready, seemingly more than happy to mete out any more impromptu justice.
“The prisoners are not to be harmed...until such time as I say so.”
None of the vamps in the room replied, but they didn’t need to. His order was crystal clear and the results of what would happen to anyone stupid enough to disobey were currently settling to the floor.
I turned my head to check on...oh shit, Sheila! She was down on one knee, the weapon still buried in her. It wasn’t a fatal wound, or so I hoped, but I had little doubt it hurt like shit.
Hoping that what I was about to do wasn’t misinterpreted as a hostile act, I stepped forward and grabbed the handle. “Sorry about this,” I said under my breath as I pulled. The blade offered some resistance, no doubt stuck in bone, but then slid out.
A weak gasp of pain escaped her lips, breaking my heart into little pieces, as she raised a hand to the spurting wound. Ignoring the faith magic still surrounding her, I made as if to step to her aid, but she stumbled back out of my reach - once more saving me from my own stupidity.
Her hand, red from her own blood, flashed a bright white - powerful enough that I could feel my nose hairs start to smoke. When it finally cleared, she was breathing hard, but the flow of blood had stopped. She’d managed to heal herself once the blackened metal had been removed.
I looked down at the weapon - a long wooden shaft with a nasty straight blade on the end, some kind of mini halberd. What the fuck was it made of to have cut through her defenses so easily? Sadly, I had a feeling no answers would be forthcoming, so I tossed it back to the guards before they got any ideas. We might all be doomed, but I had no interest in meeting my maker any sooner than I was scheduled to. “Are you okay?”
“Get away from me,” she hissed. “I told you, you’re nothing but...”
She trailed off and I followed her gaze, glancing over my shoulder to find the rest of our merry little group - Tom, Ed, and Christy - joining us.
Tom and Ed both stepped to either side of her, neither of them in any danger from her power.
“I mean it,” Sheila protested weakly - tears in her eyes. “I fooled you all just so I could...”
“Oh, shut up,” Christy said softly as my roommates helped Sheila to her feet.
Although both of them were shackled, Christy still threw her arms around Sheila and hugged her tight. She then looked over her shoulder at me. “You too.”
“What?”
“Enough with the self-sacrificing crap. Do we look stupid?”
“What self-sacrificing crap?” Tom asked.
“Well, maybe not all of you,” I replied, wanting to step in and join them, but not quite daring to. I’d already gotten enough taste of the Icon’s power for one day. My hand was still blistered from where I’d touched her. I settled for being with them in slightly displaced spirit.
“This is all fascinating,” a smug voice replied. It was Alex, reminding us that our little group hug-fest was maybe not happening at the most opportune time. “But your guilty plea still stands, Freewill.”
♦ ♦ ♦
What followed next, after order was restored, was a retelling of history. I’m normally cool with learning about all the badass exploits of the past. Hell, I used to sit for hours as a kid and watch those lousy Italian Hercules movies. What wasn’t to love? You had a big musclebound hero killing monsters and getting the girl...or oftentimes, multiple girls. I won’t lie and pretend my previously weekly D&D sessions weren’t a way to relive those adventures in my mind, this time with me as the hero...at least when Dave wasn’t busy smiting us.
Sadly, the problem with stories is they’re only as good as the storyteller. Somehow, Colin had gotten himself assigned as the official blatherer of tall tales for these proceedings - probably because he’d had access to those archives under James. However, it wasn’t hard to deduce a secondary reasoning behind his appointment: Colin was a grade-A toady. Alex could feel secure that he’d recount history in a way that didn’t leave anything open for interpretation of an anti-Draculas nature.
The smarmy prick rattled off a litany of Icons from days past and their crimes against both vampires and the other supernatural races. Had James been doing the telling, I’m sure it would have made for a fascinating afternoon. Under Colin’s ever tedious voice, though, it was more like listening to someone recite the assembly instructions for an IKEA entertainment center.
There was Zebbeh the Mad, a crazed Icon who lived thousands of years ago. He’d decided to cleanse the earth of vampire-kind following the conclusion of our first war with the Feet - credited with at least nine hundred confirmed kills.
Then he told of Lucius Severus, an Icon who lived during the reign of Augustus Caesar. Quite the nice guy, that one. When he wasn’t busy crucifying early Christians, he amused himself by burning down whole colonies of the Aflar, which, judging by the pained response from a group off in a far corner of the room, were grey-skinned, elf-like creatures.
And let us not forget Tomas Cordoba, a 14th century Icon who was one of the Spanish Inquisition’s nastier secret weapons. Seems he was directly responsible for nearly wiping out the Magi in Europe. Bet they didn’t expect that.
I had little doubt there were exaggerations thrown into the mix. After all, Alex himself had admitted to being as worried about Sheila as he was of getting too much starch in his togas. Still, I had to wonder. Faith magic, as far as I could tell, had nothing to do with being good or righteous. I mean, fuck, Tom had somehow empowered an Optimus Prime action figure just by sheer virtue of believing it to be worth a fortune - not exactly the most altruistic of motives. It wasn’t hard to imagine that some who were born with the gift of...Iconhood, I guess...might turn out instead to be nutball zealots. Still, Colin’s list was definitely a one-sided affair, obviously meant to stir the crowd.
Regardless, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of Freewills in his stories. I guess when someone performs wholesale slaughter for your side that gives them a free pass from being reviled. The history books are funny that way.
I had to give it to both Sheila and Christy. They both stood defiantly as account after account was read.
Wish I could have been as attentive, but at least I was in good company. Tom was picking his teeth with his fingernails - gross. Ed busied himself looking through the crowd, maybe counting the number of tentacles present or something. Fuck me, even Sally - brainwashed as she was - had zoned out. The bitch had somehow procured a tablet and was busy tapping the screen. Saving her was at the top of my priority list, but if I found out she was busy checking Instagram while we were down here being sentenced to death, I probably would have to deck her in the mouth.
As for me, after a while, I tuned out Colin to the best of my ability and studied the reactions of the Draculas, trying to do so out of the corner of my eye so as to not be immediately stared down by Alex’s self-satisfied grin.
James, seemingly lost in his thoughts, didn’t appear to be paying attention to any one thing. Glancing at his missing arm, I once more found myself wondering what the hell
had happened since last we’d seen him. He toed the party line as far as I’d been aware, with the exception of his quirk of being an actual pleasurable person to hang out with. Sure, he’d lost one fight to a superior foe, but had the penalties for such truly been that harsh?
Of the rest, I counted five as unreadable - apparently paying attention to Colin’s greasy voice and taking the entire thing at face value. The remainder of the First were just playing at it, though. The thing about poker faces is even the best players will have a hard time keeping them completely up in the presence of someone they absolutely loathe. A neutral demeanor was best - something that James was usually a master at. Other vamps weren’t like him, though. Arrogance tended to reign supreme as their number one vice. Someone utterly full of their self would bristle at anyone who held power over them.
Theodora was the most naked of them with regards to her feelings - sadly, just a figurative term. Every glance she stole at Alex was an openly hostile one. Those present could probably write it off as being miffed at his shoot down from earlier, but I knew she and her partner in crime were openly against Alex’s plans for one plain and simple reason: self-preservation.
Alexander the Great had nearly conquered the world over two millennia ago. There hadn’t been any bullshit triumvirate or senate either. He’d set out to make himself undisputed ruler, first amongst any - for there would be no equal to him. Time could change some people, but not all. It didn’t take a Ph.D. candidate in Ancient History to surmise Alex stood in that latter camp. If he won the war, it would only be a matter of time before he pulled a Senator Palpatine and abolished the First - or simply killed them off.
Sidelong glances and other such gestures outed others of their number. All in all, I would have bet the majority of the First Coven weren’t entirely on peachy terms with their leader. The problem was, with regards to vampires, a simple majority didn’t mean dick. One vamp of sufficient strength could mow down an army of newbs. As long as Alex had a few allies on the board of directors, and I had no reason to doubt he did - he’d been playing this game and playing it well for a long time - he could potentially hold the others in checkmate. Once they were dealt with, it would only be a matter of removing his allies, something I sure as shit wouldn’t do. Then again, I wasn’t a complete and utter slice of dingleberry pizza.
Yeah, all of it made sense - or at least I thought it did. I couldn’t help but feel a bit like James looked right now. Alex had struck a blow to more than just our friendship when he’d stolen Sally away from me. He’d said we were a formidable pair, and I sensed he wasn’t one to idly hand out compliments to low-ranking rabble. She was my partner, in many ways my better half. Everything I’d just deduced, probably burning off ten million brain cells in the process, she’d have figured out almost instantly.
I loved my roommates like brothers, but I’d succeeded against the odds without them. Christy was terrifyingly awesome, but was a relatively late comer to our Scooby gang. Sheila was...well, she was a lot of things. I would have given anything to spend eternity by her side, in either war or peace. At the same time, I had to admit our few outings together hadn’t ended spectacularly.
Sally was different, though. She was a constant in my universe, by my side for every major victory I’d somehow managed to walk away from. Hell, if she hadn’t returned from Vegas when she had, I had little doubt I’d be lining an ash tray in Vehron’s throne room.
The truth was simplicity itself: even if I somehow managed to get out of this mess, I didn’t really believe I could win without her by my side.
♦ ♦ ♦
At last, Colin ended his rambling tale of Iconic disasters. Jeez, talk about sucking up. If even half the shit he’d said was real, the world would have been reduced to a cleansed cinder long ago. As it was, the supernatural realm seemed surprisingly robust despite centuries of Icon-related slaughter. Bunch of negative Nancys, the whole lot of them.
“Most disturbing,” Alex said when he was finished, false gravitas weighing upon his voice. “What say you to this evidence, Shining One?”
Sheila opened her mouth to reply, but then glanced toward me. I got the distinct sense she was going to try disassociating herself from us again, so I gave my head a quick shake. She let out a sigh and mouthed, “All right,” before addressing Alex’s question. “I do not know, nor have I ever met, any of the people you’ve just mentioned. I’m my own person and have no quarrel with anyone who respects the peace.”
“The peace? An interesting choice of words in these dark times.”
“I meant I have no problem with anyone except those who prey on the innocent.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“So you deny being a student of the Templar? The same Templar who have hounded us for centuries - ineffectually, of course.” His dig caused a chuckle to ripple throughout the room.
I couldn’t entirely disagree with that. The Templar were warriors of faith, albeit more like crazed Bible thumpers from what I’d seen. This made the true believers among them formidable against the supernatural, but the problem with faith is that it’s apparently pretty darn easy to fool oneself into thinking you have it when, in reality, you ain’t got dick. About half the Templar I’d fought in my bid to rescue Sheila had been the real deal, possessing crosses glowing with the protective magic that true faith imbued. The rest might as well have been fighting with Nerf weapons.
“The Templar were the first who found me after I learned about my powers,” she replied with neither fear nor threat in her voice. Smart, keeping things neutral. “I stayed with them for a time and trained amongst them.”
“Being indoctrinated into their small-minded dogma?”
“They tried. However, I have since come to appreciate that the world is not so black and white.”
“So you allied yourself with the Freewill, the lone vampire to...?”
“And his friend,” Theodora said. “Let us not forget her.”
The barest of shadows passed over Alex’s face. For all of his patience, I had the feeling he was beginning to lose his temper with her. “That shall be stricken from the record,” he replied, gazing icily at her. “We have already discussed this.”
“Are we to strike from history that she was present during the encounter in question - that she helped aid in the destruction of a respected commander and his team?”
“History, as I am sure you are aware, is written by the victors,” he replied with a tone that would have surely terrified lesser vamps. “Your objection is noted.” Before she could say more, he turned back toward Sheila. “The fact remains, child, that you allied yourself with the Freewill and his friends. Against the wishes of the First, he led you on the offensive against Commander Remington and the Magi Harry Decker.”
“They were holding Bill’s friends hostage.”
“Humans,” he scoffed, looking at me. “Betraying the wishes of the First for an Icon and now humans? What is next, Freewill? Do you care to declare yourself an agent of the Grendel?”
“Fuck no!” I shouted.
Alex smirked ever so slightly at that. Apparently, my insolence amused him to no end - how wonderful. “It was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh, sorry.”
He turned back to Sheila. “You claim this was merely a rescue mission. Yet somehow you, the Freewill, a lone witch, and a few humans decimated an elite strike team and a coven of experienced Magi.”
Sheila glanced toward me, but I was already turning away to scan the crowd for Christy’s accusers. The thing about the battle with Remington was that we’d just barely won, but it hadn’t been alone. Other forces had been present, information that the Draculas were apparently not privy to. I preferred to keep it that way. The fewer who had to suffer for my actions, the better. Considering the way my luck had been going, I fully expected the witch who’d spilled the beans on Christy to do the same regarding that little tidbit.
Or not. Neither the wi
tch, the grand mentor of awesome beardedness, nor any of the other mages from their group were anywhere to be seen. Oh well, maybe they’d said their piece and then hauled ass. That would’ve been a welcome bit of news. It was bad enough two of the women in my life were in danger. I preferred there not be a third, especially since I didn’t want her around making creepy little doe eyes at me. Talk about skin-crawling distractions.
While this was going on, Sheila had replied with some bullshit about Remington not giving us a choice. That was true in of itself, although letting any of them escape hadn’t really been an option either, as everything happening now would have been exposed that much sooner.
Alex smiled grimly at her response. “So you still claim you are an agent of peace, a protector of the weak?”
“I do.”
He lifted his hand and gestured off to one side. A vampire ran up, holding something in his hands. It was a long box, like something one would keep a guitar in. Maybe he was going to entertain us with a kickass solo of “Stairway to Heaven.”
As the guard held it up, Alex unsnapped the locks and opened it. Whatever was inside definitely wasn’t a guitar.
Most musical instruments didn’t glow with a white light.
Sheila’s eyes widened and the white fires of faith erupted around her, causing me to jump back a step as Alex lifted the sword from its protective case.
He hissed as his skin sizzled from merely touching it, but he powered through it, sucking up the obvious pain. Smoke rose from his hand as he held aloft the weapon. “Behold the sword of Jeanne d'Arc, Icon of Orleans. Despite what the human histories might claim to the contrary, this weapon was used to decimate nearly every coven that existed in Northern France during her day.”
“It’s mine now.”
“And you deny having used it against Remington’s forces?”
Sheila was silent.
“No? How about more recently against the coven formerly of Brighton, New York?” With flames now openly escaping between his fingers, Alex turned the sword blade down and drove it into the floor before his chair - sinking it several inches deep before releasing the hilt. “I thought not.”
The Tome of Bill Series: Books 5-8 (Goddamned Freaky Monsters, Half A Prayer, The Wicked Dead, The Last Coven) Page 63