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

by Rick Gualtieri

  “I used to be an administrative assistant. I’m used to it.”

  I, for one, never ignored her, but it was probably not particularly helpful to bring that up. Ah, how I missed those simpler days.

  “Maybe Sasquatch magic works differently,” Sally offered. “I mean, we won’t know until we try. What’s the worst that can happen – we step around a tree and end up on the other side?”

  “She has a point,” I said.

  “The Forest Folk manipulate that energy differently than the Magi,” Christy explained. “They’re forest spirits, so they’re in tune with that power in a way that’s difficult for us to understand, much less match. But fundamentally, it’s still energy manipulation, no matter how you package it.”

  “Shit!” For a second, that frustration within me boiled to the surface before I was able to stamp it down again. “I hate to say this – I mean, I really hate to say this – but what about Decker?”

  Christy looked dubious at the prospect.

  “Yeah, I know. He’ll probably just say we should kill her. He’s a broken fucking record that way, but maybe we should at least ask.”

  Having said it out loud, I now saw what a terrible idea it was. Disembodied, he was potentially even more annoying than he’d been in life. At the same time, Christy had confided in me that he knew his shit when it came to magic. She was fucking badass, but she was also our age. Sometimes you had to defer to experience in these things, even if that experience was wrapped up in an asshole enchilada with dickhead sauce.

  Christy, for her part, narrowed her eyes at me for a moment. No matter what he’d done to us, deep down, a small part of her still looked at him like a father figure. Stuff like that was hard to shake.

  “Might be worth a try,” Veronica offered.

  “Worst case, I can show off my new body to him again,” Tom said. “Fucker was seriously jealous.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Tom grabbed the bowls off the rough table in the middle of the hut to make room while Christy retrieved Decker’s skull from her backpack. She placed it in the center and then ran her index and middle fingers over the top of it, leaving behind a slight trail of yellowish energy.

  As she did, the skull began to glow with that purplish light that told me its annoying owner was awake again.

  Tom flicked a cashew in one of its eye sockets. “Two points!”

  Christy turned and glared icily at him, but before she could say something, Decker spoke up.

  What you see in this imbecile I will never know.

  “He’s an acquired taste,” I replied.

  Ah, I see I am surrounded by fools again, each stupider than the last. The light pulsing from the skull momentarily brightened. Where have you brought me? This is neither that putrid apartment building nor the illustrious Kala’s lair.

  “We decided to go camping,” Sally said. “Figured you’d make a good bug zapper.”

  Christy slammed a hand on the table. “That’s enough, everyone. I didn’t wake him up to trade abuse.”

  So this is what I have been reduced to? Decker asked with a sigh ... interesting to hear in my head since he didn’t have lungs. Am I but a mere magic eight ball, to be brought out when it is convenient for everyone’s amusement?

  That seemed to catch her off guard and her eyes softened for a moment. “I’m sorry. It’s not like that.”

  Gan, however, was having none of his shit. “Enough with the games, maapamba. You have been summoned for a purpose.”

  Murderer!

  He might as well have told Gan she had black hair for all the emotion she showed at his outburst. “We have need of your knowledge, wizard, regarding the Shining One.”

  My killer and the destroyer of our way of life in league with one another? How fitting.

  “I didn’t ask for any of this, Harry,” Sheila said.

  I know, my dear, but a dog doesn’t ask to be bitten by a rabid animal. Yet, when it happens, it must be put down before it can do further harm.

  “Enough of this,” Christy said, taking control again. Decker’s outburst had seemingly given her the steel to push aside her feelings. “We want to know how to make Sheila susceptible to teleportation magic.”

  She would be quite susceptible were she dead.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  If there were an easy way then we would have done so, he snapped. Sent her to the bottom of the ocean or perhaps into a live volcano before she realized her true potential.

  “She’s not going to kill us!” Kelly snapped. “Just knock it off with that shit already.”

  Ah, to be young and naïve again.

  “And with skin?” I added, unable to help myself.

  Christy held up a hand. “Can we please all concentrate?” The annoyance in her voice was easy to hear. “Darling, please go grab me that chair over there.”

  Tom did so without hesitation. Once she’d eased herself into it, she turned back to the skull. “You said if there was an easy way. That means there’s a hard way.”

  You were always an astute pupil.

  “I want to know what that is. We don’t have time to play games.” She glanced around. “You said it yourself. The Source could be used to help Tom. Maybe we can use it to help you, too.”

  Dangling a carrot? Very astute.

  She lowered her voice. “It’s the truth and you know it.”

  When the time came, I hoped we could put it to a vote, because bringing Decker back to the land of the living rated a huge fucking no in my book. However, there was probably a better time for that argument to be made, so I kept my mouth shut.

  Very well, Decker mind-blasted. Icons, foul creatures that they are, are living, breathing generators of faith.

  “Nothing we don’t know already,” Christy replied.

  Think of them like a live wire. Dangerous to touch, so long as the energy is flowing through them. But remove that energy...

  “You’re talking in riddles, Harry.”

  Decker’s skull made a derogatory sound, then continued. Or weaken it enough so that it isn’t as potent.

  “Weaken it how?”

  The same way you kill her kind.

  What?!

  “The Black Tngri,” Gan said in a low voice.

  “What is...?”

  She looked up at me. “He means the ritual of Baal.”

  Blade of Chaos

  “Wait, you mean whatever the fuck they do to make those black blades?”

  As usual, Freewill, your stupidity astounds.

  “Fuck off, chrome dome.”

  I remembered what Gan had told me about it. It was a spell that invoked the god of heretics – apparently also the god of contradictions, as that made no fucking sense. Somehow, the weapons were steeped in some sort of evil blood, which in turn corrupted them enough to cut through Sheila’s otherwise invulnerable aura.

  “It needn’t be the entire ritual,” Gan clarified. “That would take time we do not have and be most inefficient with regard to the resources at our command.” The way she eyed Christy’s sisters made me think that whatever this ritual was, it involved a lot of hosing off afterwards.

  “I’m gonna assume it’s not particularly bystander friendly.”

  Such an insightful observation. Rare for one as dull-witted as you.

  Mother fucking cock! It was all I could do to not down Gan’s vial of pimped out blood and see how far I could throw his stupid fucking skull.

  This talk, combined with the bowling-ball-shaped asshole in the room, wasn't doing wonders for my temper. I could feel my fangs trying to descend almost as if they were fighting me. Not good.

  Still, from what Gan said, it sounded like this wasn’t a five-minute ritual either. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Indeed, as I was saying, my love. However, if I am interpreting the revenant totem correctly, then the full ritual would not be necessary; just the end result.
”

  The corrupting blood of the damned.

  “I think I saw that movie on Cinemax a few months back,” Tom commented.

  Christy fixed him with a stare, but otherwise ignored him. “The only place we’ve seen that blood is on those weapons the vampires used during our trial.”

  “And in Boston,” Meg added.

  “Exactly,” I replied. “Neither of which are places we’re currently at. So, since we don’t have one, this entire discussion is...”

  “That’s not true.”

  I turned toward Sally, who was leaning against one of the far corners of the hut. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, that’s not true.” She picked up the bag she’d packed for the trip and opened it. After fishing around for a few moments, she pulled out a short dagger, a dagger with a jet-black blade.

  What the hell?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Is this what you need?” she asked as if a neighbor had knocked on her door to borrow the lawnmower.

  I took a step toward her. “Where the hell did you get that?”

  “I picked it up before we left Boston.”

  “More important, why do you have that?”

  “Souvenir,” she replied blithely. “What does it matter? We need it. I have it.” Calm and collected, she stepped past me and placed the blade on the table. Maybe that’s what bothered me the most – how nonchalantly she’d done so. “Will this work?”

  To plunge into the creature’s heart? Yes, assuming any of you have come to your senses.

  “That’s enough, Harry,” Christy warned, yellow lightning dancing on her fingertips.

  So be it, Decker replied with enough disgust that I was surprised spittle wasn’t dripping out of his skull. It will serve our purposes.

  Sheila had been quiet during all of this, her eyes on the knife and her expression unreadable. Finally, she took a deep breath. “What do we need to do?”

  “Are you fucking insane?” Kelly asked. “This shit is bad for you, as in you’d better be carrying your EpiPen while kicking a beehive bad.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Sheila gave a humorless grin. “Again, what do we need to do?”

  “Harry?” Christy prompted.

  Scrape the blood off of the blade. Rehydrate and dilute it. Save enough to coat a syringe needle with and...

  “Where the fuck are we going to find a syringe up here?” Tom asked. “Freebasing Chewbaccas would be a fucking awesome band name, though.”

  I could have hugged my roommate. He’d managed to put the brakes on this stupid idea once and for all.

  “I think I have that one covered.” Veronica retrieved a small handbag from her backpack, opened it, and pulled out two sealed syringes. I raised an eyebrow, to which she said, “I do a lot of heroin.” After listening to the shocked silence that ensued, she added, “It’s a joke. Lighten up a little. I’m type 2. As the credit card commercials say, don’t leave home without it.”

  Son of a bitch.

  “Okay, that’ll work,” Christy said, taking one. It was hard to tell what was going through her mind as she spoke. I’d be lying, though, if I didn’t suspect a small part of her wondered if Harry was right.

  Fuck it. I stepped back to the table next to Sheila. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know,” she said. “But it’s either this or the long way around.” She looked down at the dagger. “I already let you down once. I’m not going to do it again.”

  “You didn’t let anyone...” Kelly began.

  “What are you talking...?” I simultaneously blurted.

  She cut us both off. “I ask again, will it work?”

  The theory is sound, Decker replied. Maybe I was projecting, but I could have sworn he had a slight cadence of amusement in his voice. My pupil injects you with the diluted blood and it should dull your powers enough for spell casting to take hold.

  “How long will it last?”

  Who can say? This time, the glee was unmistakable. So far as I know from both my earthly studies and my time beyond the great veil, such a thing has never been attempted. Suffice it to say, whenever an enemy has gotten close enough to an Icon to use such a weapon, they have not done so with the intent of merely wounding.

  “That will be enough, Harry,” Christy said. “Thank you.”

  Wait, I...

  Christy ran her fingers over his skull before he could say anything further and he immediately fell silent again. At least I could be thankful the fucker came with an off switch.

  “I think the next several hours will be difficult enough without listening to Harry’s dogma,” she told us all.

  Though I seriously doubted anyone in our group was about to be swayed by his insane ramblings, she probably had a point. Well, okay, I had assumed nobody in our group would be swayed. But then, Sally had produced the knife. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure.

  “Are you certain about this?” Kelly asked. “You’ll be vulnerable.”

  “No,” Sheila replied with a laugh. “But I enjoy the irony of not being certain. Besides...” She turned and looked each of the group in the eye, finishing with me. “I’m surrounded by good friends who won’t let anything happen to me.”

  “Damn straight,” I said.

  “I agree,” Gan replied, stepping between us. “It would be dishonorable to allow any harm to come to you under such circumstances.”

  “Thank you, G...”

  “Besides, I prefer you to be at full strength when you finally face my beloved. I will be most disappointed if your final defeat is not most glorious.”

  A Walk in the Woods

  The Sasquatch shamans were attempting to make contact with Grulg in advance of their sending spell, mostly to make sure his people didn’t immediately try to smash our skulls upon our arrival.

  The witches were likewise busy following Decker’s instructions. Gan, despite her dislike of Christy, offered her advice as they worked. Yep, wouldn’t want any harm to come to the Icon before I could tear her limb from limb in a fair fight. Whatever floated her boat.

  That left the rest of us a few minutes of down time.

  “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “It’s daylight out,” Sally replied, leaning against a wall well away from where the others were gathered.

  “We’re in a fucking forest.” I tossed her the bottle of spray-on sunscreen I’d just liberally applied to myself. “There’s plenty of tree cover. And it wasn’t a request.”

  I locked eyes with her and a battle of wills ensued. It wasn’t something I was used to winning against Sally, but that anger inside of me had been bubbling up to the surface big time ever since she’d produced that knife. It was all I could do to not throttle her right there. If she thought I was backing down this time, she had another thing coming.

  “Now,” I snarled, my voice sounding lower and more menacing than intended.

  For a moment, she looked as if she had something snarky to say, but after a beat simply replied, “I guess I could use some fresh air. The meatsack is starting to get a little ripe anyway.”

  She did have a point about Tom. Hopefully, wherever the Feet sent us, it was next to a YMCA, lake, or garden hose. He could definitely use ... no! Enough with the stupid shit. This was serious, and I didn’t need to be distracted until I got some answers.

  “Everyone else stay here. We’ll be back.”

  The witches and Gan barely glanced my way. Sheila looked at me questioningly, but I gave her a single shake of my head. As usual, only Tom seemed oblivious.

  “I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.”

  “Dear, could you come over here for a second?” Christy asked to my eternal gratitude.

  I grabbed hold of Sally’s arm and guided her out. Though spots of sunlight filtered down here and there from above, the Sasquatch village was only slightly less wooded than the surrounding forest. The fuckers liked their trees and, right now, that was just fine by
me.

  A few of the creatures milled about, but with the peace treaty and us now respectably married, we were all one big happy family. Okay, maybe not. Most of them still looked like they’d sooner shit on our corpses than talk to us, but whatever. Either way, they left us alone.

  Except for one, who started sniffing the air as we walked by.

  “What smell funny?”

  “Cool coconut tropical sunrise scent, asshole,” I replied as I led Sally away into the forest.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I wasn’t stupid enough to think we’d find any privacy from the Feet out here. We were in their fucking backyard, for Christ’s sake. However, just about when I was ready to stop and round on her, Sally took the lead.

  Curious, I followed her.

  She kept walking, the tree covering getting denser all the while. I was beginning to suspect she was avoiding the confrontation she no doubt knew was coming when we stepped out into a clearing of sorts. The trees all leaned inward, blocking any direct sunlight. An odd place, but vaguely familiar, too.

  “Is this...?”

  “Grulg’s secret place,” Sally said, stepping in and taking a seat upon a moss-covered rock. “The spot he showed us when he spilled the beans on Turd.”

  “How’d you find it again?”

  “It’s because I pay attention, ADD boy.”

  “Fair enough.” My tone was neutral, but deep down I was impressed. I couldn’t have found this place again had I marked it in my GPS. Maybe that was her ploy – drag me out here and then hope I didn’t find my way back.

  “I assumed you didn’t want prying ears.”

  “You assumed correct.” I stepped over and faced her. “So, want to tell me about it?”

  “About what?”

  “Don’t play stupid, Sally. That’s maybe the one thing I understand better than you.”

  She smiled slightly.

  “Why did you have the knife?”

  Rather than answer the question, she replied, “Do you think Ed will be happy to see us?”

  “I think Ed will get more pissed off every hour we leave him there, but yeah. I’m expecting puppy-dog let out of a hot car levels of gratitude from him. But that doesn’t have anything to do with...”