The Tome of Bill (Book 6): Half A Prayer

by Gualtieri, Rick

  That in of itself should have been enough to send me screaming out of the room. That I’d sorta fucked him over, no doubt pissing him off massively in the process, when I’d escaped from Switzerland was just icing on the bloody cake of entrails that I’d probably soon top.

  “You got that right,” Sally whispered.

  I turned to her questioningly. As far as I was aware, she wasn’t associated with any death gods. Of course, as far as I’d known, she hadn’t dated any rock monsters either and that had been proven pretty damn wrong. Before I could ask whether he was another old squeeze, though, I saw her gaze was directed elsewhere.

  I followed it and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  At the far end of the massive room, a section was set aside. Rather than the general seating the rest of the guests used, chairs of pure black onyx - more like thrones - were lined up in a row. I didn’t need to count them, but I did just to make myself feel even worse. As I suspected, there were thirteen in all.

  Upon them sat figures that looked human, but I knew weren’t. I didn’t recognize the majority of them, but some of the faces were more than familiar. Of them, only James brought any feeling other than dread and that was easily overwhelmed by who sat in the very middle: Alexander the Great.

  The Draculas - more properly known as the First Coven - the thirteen most powerful vampires on the planet were present, and their eyes were all focused directly on us.

  Bring Out Your Dead

  “Are those...”

  “Yep,” I replied to Ed’s unfinished question.

  “Are we...”

  “Fucked beyond all possible measure of the fuckery scale? I’d say so.”

  The crowd began to murmur amongst itself, no doubt commenting on our obvious discomfort. I couldn’t bring myself to turn my head away from the Draculas, but I picked up bits and pieces of it anyway thanks to my superb vampire hearing.

  “See how guilty they look?”

  “Betrayers.”

  “Five bars of gold says they kill the abomination first.”

  “They should strip the blonde one. She is one fine slice of gorvu.”

  I was tempted to scan the crowd for the owner of that last one. There’s always gotta be at least one perv among the bunch. Asshole. That was my job.

  Before I could turn my head away, though, Alex’s mismatched eyes met mine. I expected to find fury radiating from them, enough to scorch me where I stood. Instead, he grinned and inclined his head ever so slightly. That motherfucker was one seriously weird dude.

  I tore my gaze away and looked over the rest of the bunch. Each of them was dressed in regal finery, obviously befitting their station, but wearing fashions and colors which I assumed to be of their own respective preference. To Alex’s immediate left and right sat Theodora and Yehoshua, respectively. I recognized them, and not just because Thea was probably the hottie the wicked stepmother in every fairytale was modeled after.

  They’d been the ones who ultimately had let me go back in Europe, confiding in me that they weren’t all that pleased with either Alexander’s rule or his plans for decimating the world. Yehoshua wore a neutral expression. He might as well have been sitting down to watch a particularly dull game of golf. Theodora was far less collected. The look on her face was one of utter loathing. At first, I thought it might have been toward the crowd in general, but every so often, her eyes would flicker in Alex’s direction.

  With the exception of James, the rest of the Dracs were all new to me. I counted three other women amongst their number and six men, all of various lineages. Interestingly enough, none of them seemed to fit any stereotypes of what I might have imagined a vampire ruling counsel to be. There were no obvious Mayan high priests, Spanish conquistadors, or Roman consuls sitting there, looking like they’d stepped out of a time warp. Hell, most of them looked like you could pass them on the street without giving a second glance.

  I wasn’t fooled, however. Each and every one of them possessed several times the power needed to pulverize a vampire newb like me into a puddle of Bill-flavored goo.

  For all I knew, the only one who lacked the inclination to do so was James and he was...what the fuck?

  He sat at the last chair to Alex’s right, dressed as regally as the others, but there was something very much off about him. Normally, James was bright-eyed and very full of life for a man who was over six hundred years in age. It wasn’t unusual to find a wry grin upon his face. Not so today. The best I could say was he looked haunted. Sadly, I couldn’t glean any further insight as he refused to look my way.

  “What happened to his arm?” Sally whispered under her breath. She was just barely audible to me, but I didn’t fool myself into believing that some of the others present hadn’t picked it up too.

  Regardless, I had no answer for her. His left hand rested upon his knee, but the right sleeve of his suit jacket was pinned to his side. It was the same arm he’d lost in battle to Vehron. That made no sense, though. It had already started growing back when last we’d seen him. It should have been fully regrown by the time he’d reached whatever destination Colin had spirited him off to after the fight.

  Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. James was typically our lifeline; a guy strong, smart, and influential enough to pull our asses out of whatever shithole we’d gotten ourselves stuck in. Things seemed to be different now. For all of his rank, he had the look of low man on the totem pole with this bunch. What the fuck had happened since he’d left us?

  Sadly, I got the feeling we wouldn’t get an answer to that anytime soon. One of the vampires guarding the inner circle in which we stood turned and stepped toward the Draculas. Judging from the way he carried himself and the crispness of his dress, it wasn’t hard to guess he had some position of authority here - maybe a vampire general or something.

  Words were exchanged, but thanks to the continued yammering of the crowd, they were lost upon me. The only thing I got out of it was the guard asking what sounded like a question.

  Alex gave a single shake of his head, then inclined his gaze toward another door leading out. Who knows? Maybe he was having second thoughts and was gonna let us go.

  Never let it be said I’m not an optimist at heart.

  The vampire who’d approached Alex quickly turned and gestured toward some of the minions near that exit. He made a single “come forth” gesture with his hands before returning to his station.

  Oh, fuck. I really hoped they didn’t have a trial by combat in mind because I knew my luck. Whatever came through that door to kick my ass would probably be big, ugly, and mean enough to...

  To be my other roommate?

  “Tom?” Ed asked, giving rise to my question.

  Sure enough, two vampire guards entered. Between them stood my oldest friend. For his part, he looked unharmed, if a bit bewildered. He turned toward one of the vamps leading him in and said something. I didn’t catch it, but judging by the look on the vamp’s face, it was a typical bit of Tom’s stupidity. The vampire grabbed his shirt by the shoulder and shoved him forward.

  My friend stumbled and went down to his knees. He looked up, saw us, and quickly got back to his feet. I was a little irked to see he wasn’t shackled like the rest of us, but then realized it wasn’t a surprise. Tom didn’t appear to be wearing his magical amulet, the one that channeled the insane faith he felt for the toys he collected - especially a vintage Optimus Prime figure he’d once gotten cheap at a flea market. Without it, he wasn’t much threat to anyone, outside of talking their ear off.

  “Hey, Bill,” he said casually. “What’s up, Ed? Looking good, Sal...”

  “Oh, shut up,” she replied with an eye roll.

  “I see they got you guys too,” he continued, unperturbed.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine. They offered me a deal - don’t try to escape and I wouldn’t get my face torn off. Seemed pretty fair to me.”

  I sighed in relief. Tom could be an idiot when he wanted to be
, but he’d been exposed to enough of the supernatural world to know when it was best to fight and when it was best just to do as told.

  “What’d you tell the Gestapo over there?” Ed asked.

  “Oh, just that Bill was gonna fuck his mother’s corpse when this was all done.”

  “Thanks,” I replied through gritted teeth, glancing over and noticing the sour look the guard threw my way. One could always count on Tom to make the situation better.

  Although I was glad to see my friend, even under the current circumstances, I found myself curious as to why he was here. Of the four of us, his run-ins with the paranormal world had been the least severe, at least with regards to being on the Draculas’ radar. I mean, the only time he’d really been exposed to it outside of New York had been...

  Oh shit. Tom, Sally, and Ed all had one very important thing in common: they’d been my advisors up in Canada when it had all gone to hell. Was that what this was about? Some sort of after-the-fact reckoning? A way for Alex to place blame for the war he’d manipulated us into starting? Was it going so badly he felt the need to finger us as scapegoats?

  If so, that wasn’t good. I had a feeling that pointing fingers back his way was a good way to get them cut off permanently. Likewise, this didn’t look like the type of bunch who would accept a plea of stupidity as way of excuse.

  We were alone, without many allies, and escape was only possible if we somehow learned to teleport...

  Christy! I remembered what Ed had told me, how her new coven had taken up residence in our building back in Brooklyn. Shortly after his arrival in Pandora, we’d called them up to let them know he was safe and sound. They’d immediately stood down on any scrying incantations they’d been working on to find him. But if Tom was now on the missing list too, then that would be an entirely different story. There was no way Christy would let someone take him without magically looking under every single rock on the planet. With any luck, she was even now homing in on...

  “Bring her in.”

  What?

  Though the voice giving the command wasn’t overly loud, one could hear the authority practically dripping out of it. Alexander spoke as one who was born to be king and knew it. It was a far cry from the practically mewling orders of middle management at my old job, where they pretty much could only hope you did as you were told. Alex’s tone indicated he knew there was no doubt his orders would be carried out.

  And they were. The guards at the perimeter practically tripped over themselves running for yet another egress off on the other side. I couldn’t help but notice this door was considerably better armored than the one Tom had been brought through. It looked like they’d been holding him in a sitting chamber or side office. No real surprise there. What was he going to do other than mouth off to them?

  The prisoner they brought in next, though, was considerably more lethal when she wanted to be.

  Under different circumstances, I would have been happy to see her. Now, her hands were manacled in front of her with chains similar to those Mark had used on Miranda, if considerably newer looking. Happy was definitely not one of the emotions I felt at the sight of her entrance.

  All hope seemed to slip from between our fingers as Christy was marched in to join us.

  What the fuck was going on?

  Wizard Duel

  Christy was...a wee bit larger than when last I’d seen her. Part of it was no doubt her being about six months pregnant. The rest, well, let’s just say I got a clear mental image of cravings for ice cream at three AM, followed by Tom’s ass running out to grab a gallon of mint chocolate chip.

  The smirk that arose on my face was only on the surface, though. Inwardly, my hopes had been dashed against the blast door we’d marched in through. In this chamber were the people I considered the bulk of my allies - the vast majority of them standing in the same rapidly deepening pool of shit as me. I got the distinct feeling no last-minute save was in the cards this time.

  The only question was why?

  Upon seeing Tom, Christy bolted toward us. The guards tensed as she did so and, for a moment, I was afraid of what they’d do. Thankfully, they held off on any action. Either they were under orders not to harm her or it was painfully obvious we were in no position to cause much chaos.

  Christy threw her manacled arms around Tom. “Thank the Mother you’re all right!” She sobbed into his shoulder.

  “Hey, babe,” he replied casually, as if he’d just gotten back from the store. Yes, they made for quite the interesting couple.

  Christy pulled back from the embrace, wiping a few tears from her eyes once it became obvious her boyfriend was okay. She glanced around and saw us there too. Confusion reigned on her face for a moment as she took it all in. Then her gaze landed on mine and, within seconds, anger replaced confusion.

  Oh, shit, what did I do now?

  * * *

  Red-hot power gathered behind her eyes, but it went no further than that, no doubt due to the magic-restraining bonds shackling her. To my surprise and relief, though, Christy gritted her teeth and spun toward where the Draculas sat.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she spat in their direction. “I am of the Magi, afforded neutrality under the provisions set forth in the Humbaba Accord. I have no quarrel with vampire-kind, nor do I answer to your laws. I demand to know why I and my fiancé have been detained in this manner.”

  “Fiancé?” Tom and I both uttered.

  Christy spun and directed a glare at him that would have melted steel. Needless to say, he shut the fuck up quick. She then turned to me and her gaze softened. She mouthed, “Sorry” before turning back to face the First.

  Her meaning was clear enough to me. She wasn’t beholden to vampire law, but Sally and I were. Hell, Ed probably was now too, thanks to whoever had signed him up for Pandora Coven. That was fine. I trusted Christy and had little doubt she’d do what she could to help us out once she was clear of this mess.

  As for the rest, I’ll admit I took some amusement in seeing the looks on the faces of the guards surrounding us. Hell, I wouldn’t have had the balls to talk to the Draculas like that aloud and I was known for pissing them off. Best yet, I could see that reaction reflected in the eyes of at least some of the fuckers sitting up there in judgment of us. They weren’t used to being talked to in such a manner.

  Sadly, whatever shock the other Draculas might have felt didn’t register with Alex. “Well said, Christine Angelique Fenton - Magi of the Eastern Seaboard,” he replied. “However, I might question your comment regarding no quarrel with our kind. Did not your master wage war against Village Coven of New York?”

  I opened my mouth with the intent of protesting. Christy had been the only member of her coven who hadn’t actively tried to fuck me over by way of disintegrating the pack of assholes who had once been my coven. Thankfully, Sally planted an elbow in my side before I could say anything that might make our situation worse.

  It seemed that my help was unnecessary anyway, as Christy remained unfazed by the challenge. “My master, gods watch over his soul, had quarrel with the Freewill, as I believe the esteemed First Coven is aware, Alexander of Macedon.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow, but then grinned, apparently pleased she knew who he was. That made sense. From what I’d seen of him, both in person and in that movie where Angelina Jolie played his MILF of a mom, he was far more likely to give quarter to those who surprised him by being clever or unorthodox rather than lackeys.

  “Have a care, sorceress,” Theodora growled. “Neutral or not, your tone is insol...”

  “That will be enough,” Alex cut her off. Theodora didn’t appear to appreciate that one bit. She opened her mouth, but he started talking again, pretty much dismissing her. Dick. “I apologize for any rudeness on the part of my people or my coven.”

  Maybe it was me, but I could have sworn a lot of First Coven fur was bristled by that remark. Only Yehoshua and James appeared to be stoic in the face of it.

  “You are,
of course, correct,” Alex continued. “The Magi are not subject to our laws, and the potential act of war perpetrated by your master was offset by the circumstances.”

  I had to bite my tongue. Circumstances? He was talking about Harry Decker going batshit about the Icon. The news of her emergence had sent shockwaves throughout the supernatural community, but before full-on panic could descend, the vamps had joined forces with the mages to hunt her down and obliterate her. As far as they were concerned, it had been a successful mission. As far as I was concerned, though, it had only resulted in the deaths of a lot of assholes who’d deserved it - Decker and his followers included.

  Alex stood and held his hands open in a gesture suggesting supplication. “I would thus apologize and ask the guards to free you and your companion, begging your forgiveness for the slight.” He nodded his head toward Christy and she appeared to relax.

  She stepped forward, but Alex held up a hand. “I would do all of these things were you still protected by virtue of your association with the Magi.” He turned toward the crowd and scanned for someone or something. Finally, he asked, “What say you, esteemed Grand Mentor?”

  All eyes turned to follow his gaze.

  “What?” Christy gasped.

  A white bearded man stood up at the far edge of the crowd.

  “Who let Saruman in?” Ed whispered to me.

  I had to nod. The guy in question was, for all intents and purposes, your stereotypical-looking Hollywood wizard. He could have passed as Merlin, Dumbledore, or any of a dozen wizened mages from pop culture. Long, flowing robes covered his body and he leaned on a staff to round out the look. Christ, he was either the real deal or had been kidnapped from the local Comic Con.

  “I say nay. I name this child as a heretic to our ways.” Scratch that last part. When he spoke, it reverberated throughout the room - the barest glow surrounding his body.