The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill Book 8)

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The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill Book 8) Page 4

by Rick Gualtieri


  It gave me a way to fill up the tank and use it against who or whatever had left those victims behind. Though Sheila’s healing powers were pretty potent, there were limits to what she could fix. We’d come to an unspoken agreement of sorts during those moments. She’d turn away and let me do what I had to. I made it a point to not prolong anyone’s suffering and to try to be neat about things. Unspoken agreements worked so much better when the other person didn’t look like a walking slaughterhouse.

  Also left unspoken was my fear of the anger inside me and the potential for me to start to enjoy this new way of life once the disgust wore off.

  For now, though, it was an arrangement that bore fruit. Just last night, we’d tracked down a trio of creatures made of greasy black smoke – Wisps, if I recalled correctly. Anyway, the pyromaniac little fuckers had been having a merry old time setting homeless people ablaze before we’d arrived.

  Sheila’s powers worked just fine against them. As for me, thankfully, they had a solid core deep inside their burning exterior that was perfectly good for punching. Yeah, it hurt, but it wasn’t like I was a stranger to being set on fire.

  The problem was, the euphoria of our outings didn’t last. Spending time with Sheila was great, but it wasn’t the same as it might have once been. Even a month ago, kicking ass by her side would have qualified as one of my wet dreams. Now, though, we once again had that fucking prophecy standing between us as the ultimate cock-blocker. Frustration over my inability to save Ed, Dave, James, and the others, as well as worry for Sally, only compounded it.

  It wasn’t unlike trying to cast a wish spell during one of Dave’s game sessions. Never would I have thought that being alone with the girl I used to fawn over would be so anti-bonerific, but it was. The whole saying about being careful what you wished for turned out to be apt indeed.

  * * *

  I swallowed another mouthful of tequila and stepped to the front window. I looked out at the sunny street below and rued the fact that there wasn’t nearly enough left in the rapidly depleting bottle to get me good and shitfaced. One of the many downsides of being a vampire was a drinking constitution that would have made me the grand beer pong champion of any campus in America.

  Yeah, the days were bad and seemed to be getting worse. To have so much power at my disposal – in theory, at least – yet sitting around while one of my best friends was being tortured or worse.

  I barely noticed when, in frustration, I shattered the mug I was holding. By the time I looked down, the cuts on my hand were already closing up.

  Movement below caught my eye and I glanced out. The day was bright, but thankfully the sun had moved out of a position to shine directly in. A car had just double-parked down below. That in itself wasn’t surprising. People typically double-parked in Brooklyn as readily as they breathed. Nowadays, with the law of the land a dubious thing, I was half surprised the entire block hadn’t turned into one giant parking lot. It was more the size of the vehicle that caught my attention. Too long for even four doors – a limo, by the looks of it.

  Go figure. Even during the apocalypse, some folks had to flaunt it over everyone else.

  Oh well, some pretentious asshole stopping to grab a slice of New York pizza wasn’t my concern, not by a long shot. I’d started to turn away when more movement below registered in my periphery: a car door opening and closing, followed by a flash of black hair.

  I was just noting that they’d appeared to be heading toward the stoop of my building when there came a commotion from below. Had I been human, it would have been easy to dismiss from this high up. To my vampire ears, though, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass was loud and clear.

  We’d jerry-rigged the front door closed again shortly after arriving here, and now some asshole had just done us the favor of kicking it in again.

  A SUNNY DISPOSITION

  Fuck!

  It’s bad enough that a group of dipshits decided to liquefy themselves in our basement the second we stepped away. Now some rich douchebag was doing it in broad daylight. What the hell? It’s not like we were the only building left standing in this neighborhood. Were they on a mad bender for some Grey Poupon?

  Pity for them they’d caught me in a bad mood. I had a very simple rule when it came to humans: if they were innocent, I didn’t hurt them. Shitheads, however, were more than qualified when it came time to dole out a beating. It wouldn’t help rescue Ed, but giving some looter a broken face might distract me for a few moments.

  I practically flew down the stairs. Truth be told, I wasn’t overly worried about my fellow tenants. Between witches, vampires, and an Icon, whoever was waiting down below was in for a really bad meet and greet. I just wanted to get there first.

  The door to Sally and Sheila’s apartment was opening as I started down the next flight of stairs. I caught the barest glimpse of blonde hair and heard Sally grumble something about what she was going to do to whoever woke her up.

  I was halfway tempted to slow down and let her get there first. Maybe it would snap her out of her funk.

  Or maybe it would cause her to horribly murder whoever had played Big Bad Wolf on our front door. The thought caused me to speed up my steps. Hurting someone was fine, but I wasn’t so far gone as to agree with tearing them limb from limb.

  I reached the ground floor, noting the distinct lack of witches emerging from the basement. I mean, sure, they all had normal human senses, but they were a hell of a lot closer to the ruckus than I’d been. Also, I was fairly sure Christy had warded the doors to let her know when someone other than us entered.

  I didn’t know what they were doing down there, but it sure as shit must’ve been engrossing.

  Whatever the fuck. I could yell at them later.

  For now, I spun toward the front door. “Okay, asshole, you’re about to learn a hard lesson about breaking and entering.”

  The words died on my lips and I skidded to a halt as our intruder came into view. Though the door was in splinters before her, she stood just outside of it in the direct rays of the sun, as if she didn’t even notice it. But that was impossible.

  Gan locked her green eyes on mine and smiled. “I knew I would find you here, beloved.”

  * * *

  Sally’s footsteps stopped somewhere above us. There was little doubt she’d heard Gan’s voice and recognized it. It wasn’t hard to imagine her debating whether or not to go back to bed.

  However, the curiosity of the fact that Gansetseg, adopted daughter of Ogedai Khan and current Prefect of Eastern Asia, was both here and standing outside as if the sun wasn’t shining down upon her, proved too much for even her dislike of the little munchkin.

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” she asked, stepping to my side.

  “I dunno. We could be sharing a hallucination.”

  “I always knew there was too much lead paint in the walls of this dump.”

  Gan’s smile turned into a bemused smirk and she stepped inside, her tiny feet crunching on the broken glass beneath them.

  “I guess the doorbell was busted,” I remarked more to myself than anything.

  “It was locked and I didn’t care to be kept waiting,” Gan replied to my rhetorical statement.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Sally said, “but how the fuck are you still alive?”

  Before Gan could answer, my ears picked up footsteps, a single set of them, ascending from the basement. I glanced back to see Kelly emerge at the top of the stairs.

  “Christy sent me up to ask what the hell’s going on.” She stopped and surveyed the scene in front of us. “Um, what happened to the door and who’s the kid?”

  I turned towards the witch. “This is Gan. And she’s what happened to the door.”

  * * *

  It took a short while to gather everyone up in my apartment. While I waited for Sally to fetch Christy and Kelly to go wake up Sheila, Gan took it upon herself to walk back out to the limo which, upon closer look, I realized was ad
orned with Chinese diplomat flags. Once more, she stepped into the daylight as if it were no inconvenience at all.

  When she returned, it was with two men – human thralls, judging by the way they struggled with the large metallic chest they carried.

  “I thought it rude to arrive without bearing gifts,” she said as they lugged it up the stairs. “Knowing your somewhat misguided proclivity against live cattle, I thought you would appreciate it.”

  Once they deposited it inside my apartment, Gan dismissed them with the barest wave of her hand. She walked over and flipped open the lid, revealing a full chest of ceramic jugs. I didn’t need to open one to know what they contained, though. My nose instantly recognized the smell of blood.

  It was more than enough to satisfy my and Sally’s needs for at least a week, maybe more. Beyond that, well, if we still hadn’t figured out a way to find Ed, we’d probably be so thoroughly fucked that it wouldn’t matter.

  More importantly, it could very well mean the difference between holding on to my humanity and devolving into what I feared most.

  “Thank you, Gan.” I said the words softly, more touched than even I realized.

  “You are more than welcome, my love. I drained the finest virgins at my disposal for you.”

  And just like that, I was creeped out again. Good ole Gan. She had quite the talent for ruining any chance I had of ever growing fond of her. All in all, maybe that was a good thing, because the second I dropped my guard, she’d probably produce a shaman or something and have us declared married.

  If that ever happened, I could see myself opting for the til death do us part clause in it.

  “I had them secured in a highly insulated vessel,” she continued, as if bleeding people dry was a particularly mundane topic. “I did not expect to find your home in any condition to support their storage, as ill-maintained as it normally is.”

  “Christy and her friends took care of that,” I replied idly.

  A sour look passed over Gan’s face. “The witch?” Those two had hit it off on the wrong foot and had never quite gotten over it. Needless to say, if she had plans on staying, it would probably be best if they weren’t roomies.

  “And her new coven,” I added. “They set up some glowing ball thingee down in the basement. Keeps the lights on and all the electronics working. Also does wonders for dissuading intruders.”

  “I am not familiar with this thingee concept, my love.”

  “It’s like a ball of energy, maybe a little smaller than a baseball.” I made a circle with my hands to show her, just in case America’s national pastime wasn’t something that had made it to Outer Mongolia yet.

  Her eyes widened slightly at my display. “White, but with shimmering colors occasionally visible?”

  “I haven’t spent too much time staring at it, but pretty much.”

  “Hmm. Such constructs are known as Xihe’s Tears. Or, more commonly in this hemisphere, as Apollo’s Prism.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “It is an impressive work of magic, essentially tearing a tiny hole in the fabric of reality. Very rare. I may have to revise my opinion of your witch ever so slightly.”

  Whoa, was that almost a compliment? It wasn’t quite an invitation to be BFFs, but it was a far cry from her usual stance that Christy would be best off taking a permanent dirt nap.

  “Assuming she doesn’t do anything foolish with it,” she added.

  Oh, well, so much for that hope.

  “I wouldn’t worry too...”

  “They are quite fragile and extremely dangerous if used ignorantly.”

  “Yeah, I get that. We had an incident with some home invaders...”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “They sort of got melted.”

  “That is all?”

  “It was pretty fucking brutal. Wait, what do you mean, is that all?”

  “They were lucky.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not the word I would use to describe them.”

  “I am talking about any remaining humans living close by.”

  “Yeah, it probably would have been bad had that thing sputtered out. Might have caused a fire or something.”

  She smiled ever so slightly at me, almost like how one might look with affection upon a particularly dim-witted dog. “Yes, it may have ... after it obliterated everything within a hundred-meter radius.”

  All of a sudden, being able to charge my laptop didn’t seem like quite the luxury it had been.

  IMPISH INTERROGATION

  “What exactly do you mean by obliterated?”

  “An implosion, actually, if my scholars are to be believed.” Gan walked over to the bookshelf in the corner of our living room. It was covered in Star Trek novels and various horror paperbacks. She took a moment to look them over, then ran a finger over one of the wooden shelves. Okay, so maybe dusting wasn’t exactly my strong suit. “As I said, it is a tear in reality, radiating energy from elsewhere.”

  “Elsewhere?”

  “Another plane of existence. Should anything happen to disrupt it before it can dissipate naturally, that flow of energy would be reversed.”

  “And that would be bad?”

  “It would be wise to not be nearby were that to occur.”

  We weren’t supposed to play with the glowing thingee, but I’d envisioned it as more of the magical equivalent of a perpetual motion machine. I’d been too enamored with having cold beer to consider it might have more in common with a Sphere of Annihilation.

  I was about to question her further about the nuke in my basement when the others arrived. Sally was first in the door.

  “I see you were able to spare your whore from falling under Ib’s compulsion.”

  Sally glared down at Gan as the others filed in. “Speaking of which, how do we know you’re not still under her power?”

  Gan waved her off as if that was a stupid question. However, it wasn’t. When last we’d seen her, she’d been marching after Calibra, fully under her control.

  “She has a good point, Gan.”

  “I will explain everything that I know for you, beloved.”

  Sally rolled her eyes before hooking a thumb toward the big cooler of blood sitting off to one side. “Grab us both a glass. If we have to sit here and listen to Rainbow Blight pontificate, we might as well not do so dry.”

  * * *

  I tried really hard not to enjoy the blood while I watched the witches work. Despite it being quite good, I knew that whoever it belonged to was most likely no longer burdened by this mortal coil. Still, what was done was done. Pouring it down the drain wouldn’t bring that person back to life. Heck, it might even save someone else if what I suspected about myself was true.

  This wasn’t the time for such thoughts, though, so I pushed them to the back of my head. Of far greater importance was Gan’s sudden reappearance and what it meant for us. I didn’t get the sense she was talking through a compulsion, her eyes bright and clear, but that didn’t mean anything. Calibra was the oldest vampire of them all, in addition to being a master mage. That kind of combo meant there were certainly tricks up her sleeve we didn’t know about.

  There were also the Jahabich to consider. I shuddered a little at the thought. Don’t get me wrong, I’d have sooner shoved a silver sword up my ass than marry the little creep, but even Gan deserved better than that fate.

  Fortunately, though we might not have been privy to all of Calibra’s secrets, we weren’t fucking idiots either. Christy, in particular, was both cautious and not overly endeared to Gan to begin with.

  She’d insisted upon a double protection circle – an inner one for Gan, and an outer one for the rest of us just in case the munchkin was little more than a distraction for an impending attack. While her sisters weaved their spells, Christy handed Gan two blades: a regular kitchen knife she’d purloined from my utensil drawer and a silvered dagger.

  Gan, either understanding our precautions or playing along, objected to none
of it.

  I stood back near the edge holding Tom while all this went on. Sheila stood nearby, just past the outer circle, her powers being incompatible with the witches’. Though she assured me her aura was more than sufficient protection should anything go wrong, I still kept close. If something was going to happen, it would almost certainly be to the odd man – or woman – out in the group.

  Finally, the prep work was finished. A bright column of purplish energy flared up around Gan, presumably trapping her where she was. A similar, if less brilliant, flash of light rose up around the perimeter of the outer circle, enclosing the rest of us in what I hoped was the real-life equivalent of a Protection from Evil spell.

  Just for kicks, I tapped my finger against it, feeling a slight crackle of energy as if what was there was solid.

  “Can you not do that?” Christy asked.

  “Sorry.”

  “Dumbass,” Sally said under her breath.

  Christy turned back to Gan and indicated the two knives.

  Gan, seeming to know what she meant, rolled up both of her sleeves. She took the first and cut a deep furrow in one wrist, then followed it up by several more slashes further up her arm. The cuts bled for a moment or two, then closed up. Definitely not a Jahabich.

  “Now the other,” Christy said.

  Gan repeated the act with the silvered blade.

  I waited for the fireworks. Silver possessed some weird incompatibility to vampire blood, the mix causing our insides to ignite like magnesium in water. In addition to hurting like fuck all, it also had the added effect of retarding our healing for a time.

  However, the cuts on her arm bled normally, same as before, closing up just as quickly.

  “Interesting,” Gan said. “I had not expected that. One more benefit of the change.”

  The change?

  “You sure that’s not some cheap silver-plated knockoff?” Sally asked Christy.

  “It’s a solid silver athame,” she replied while still facing Gan. “Please hand them over, hilt first.”

 

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