To my surprise, Sheila said, “Okay, if you trust him, I will too. If it’ll help Ed, he can have some of my blood as well.”
“Blessed one,” Sister Bernadette intoned, “this is unwise, giving of yourself to the enemy.”
“If it will help a friend, then it’s for the greater good. Could I do any less?”
That shut the Templar bitch up. I smiled toward Sheila, then switched things up to inform them of how I couldn’t leave my former gaming group behind.
“Oh, so you did bring other gaming dorks with you?” Sally asked dismissively. “Just keep them away from me. I already took a shower today.”
“Relax. I already warned the Defilers about you.”
Sister Bernadette leaned forward, her beady little eyes boring into me. “Defilers?”
Son of a bitch. “It was just a party name from our D&D game.”
Judging by her increasingly sour look, that explanation wasn’t winning me any points either. Damn, I felt sorry for any kids who had to visit her on the holidays.
Quickly changing gears, I next brought the team up to speed on my Dr. Death issue and the progress made there.
“So you’re saying he’s just some offshoot of your powers combined with your subconscious?” Sheila asked.
“Seems like it.”
Sally leaned forward, eyeing me curiously. “You ever maybe consider group therapy? Because that shit doesn’t sound normal.”
“What do you think?” Sheila asked Christy.
“Fingers crossed, but it sounded reasonable to me,” she replied.
My tale finished, Sheila told of how she, Sally, and the rest of my friends had discussed things and realized the Templar would be a potentially powerful ally against the forces Vehron was mustering up in Boston.
Her speech put a lot of emphasis on their faith and how it would be tested – no doubt buttering up a big cinnamon roll full of bullshit for Bernadette to chow down on. I could dig that.
Sister Bernadette corroborated this, informing us that so long as we didn’t stray into darkness, then our truce would hold.
Yeah, that was gonna take a wee bit of a miracle to pull off. Bottom line was vampires needed blood to survive, and our stash of the bottled stuff was close to empty.
Thankfully, Sheila seemed to sense my trepidation because she had the perfect answer.
“We’re going to split our forces when the time comes. The Templar will work to clean up the streets of Boston and rescue anyone they can. The rest of us will focus on the main complex.”
It wasn’t much, but the separate missions might give us the breathing room to do what we needed to, while not ticking off our allies too badly.
When all was said and done, I had to admit she’d thought this through in much greater detail than me. I mean, neither of us were exactly trained in military strategy, and that showed. However, at the end of the day, she had much more of a claim to leading this party than I did. I’d need to tell her that when I got the chance.
For now, though, it was Sally’s turn to enlighten us all as to what she’d been up to. She lifted up the duffel bag she’d come in with onto the table. The creak of the wood beneath it was testament to its weight. She unzipped it and threw back the cover, revealing a whole shitload of firepower within.
Whoa. Sheila might have invited the party guests, but Sally had brought the noisemakers.
“I was hoping to find any remnants of Village Coven,” she explained. “Even a couple of seasoned vampires could be helpful to our cause.”
I let out a sigh. We’d been through this. “I told you, anyone with any experience was wiped out. As for the new recruits, Vehron got them all.”
“Yeah, I know you said that, but I also know me. I have a hard time believing there wouldn’t have been a few nooks and crannies that I hadn’t told you about.”
“Sorry to douse your paranoia with some reality, but I knew every...”
“And I was right.”
She was?
“I found traces of recent vampire activity at some of our less-frequented locations.”
“Whoa. Hold on. What do you mean less-frequented locations?”
“Like the apartment up on 22nd.”
“What apartment?”
“Or the basement below that bistro on Canal Street.”
“Huh?” Motherfucking son of a bitch! “I was the master of that coven. Why the fuck didn’t you...”
It was a stupid question to ask, considering her state of mind and, thankfully, she spared me from finishing it by talking right over me. “Unfortunately, I was also too late.”
“What do you mean?”
She turned toward Sister Bernadette. “I found piles of ash inside that last place. Your people were thorough.”
“Once the signs of Armageddon were clear, my people fought to protect the innocent and ensure our place in the Rapture.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. You also fucked us out of some potential cannon fodder. Thankfully, you weren’t that thorough, and I was able to get my hands on some consolation prizes.” She indicated the big bag of guns in front of her.
I was just about to comment when she pulled one other item from the bag. It was a big heaping ball of bubble wrap, but I could see something within through the translucent material.
Before anyone could ask what it was, though, a voice rang out from both everywhere and nowhere at once, answering the question.
Many will be called, but few shall stand. In the end, the white rises and the darkness falls.
It was the remains of Harry Decker: wizard, asshole, and my late, unlamented nemesis.
I had no idea what the fuck he meant by that. Unfortunately, our game of Blue’s Clues was going to have to wait.
An angry red glow erupted in the room as Christy stood, her fists clenched so tight that her knuckles shone white even against the crimson fire building around her.
I think it was safe to say she was a wee bit ticked off.
Uneasy Alliances
“What is that?” Christy hissed as the lighting in the room changed to match what was obviously a reflection of her mood.
Needless to say, this didn’t sit too well with Bernadette. She waddled to her feet in ... well, slightly more than a moment, and produced a silvered dagger, pointing it at Christy. “Betrayer! Whore to Satan!”
Sheila rose to her feet next to the Templar. White fire flared around her, a distinct clash to that which swirled around Christy.
Bernadette noticed it and grinned. “Now you finally see. These creatures cannot be trusted.”
“Sit down,” Sheila growled at her so fiercely that I found myself keeping my own ass planted despite the situation.
To my amazement, Bernadette complied, although she kept her weapon in hand. That left only the three ladies standing, Sally the only one among them who didn’t look particularly perturbed.
I glanced to Ed, who was sitting next to me, and whispered, “Did you know she was gonna bring that?”
He shook his head.
“Christy,” Sheila said, the glow around her subsiding now that Bernadette was contained, “please calm down.”
“I want to know what is in that package and why it sounds like Harry,” she replied, tears forming in her eyes. Combined with her hormones and current lack of sleep, this revelation was definitely not having a positive effect on her mood.
“Sally,” I warned. She’d opened the bottle on this genie for some insane reason. She needed to seal it back up again.
“What’s the issue?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. The claws on her right hand extended, and she sliced easily through the wrap, shredding it ... and making several popping noises in the process. Ah, no matter the situation, that never failed to sound soothing.
Unfortunately, it didn’t have a similar effect on Christy, who let out a gasp when Sally produced a skull from within and set it upon the table. “Is that...?”
&n
bsp; “This?” Sally asked. “No idea really. Not sure who owned it or why I have it, but it helped out a bit in Vegas. Some of the mages there owed me favors, so I phoned and asked if it was still in my old office and if they could zap it over to me. Figured it might come in handy. Didn’t realize it would be such a problem.”
Fuck me! Sally’s memory loss. Her dealings with Decker had pretty much all been around me. She’d obviously forgotten about him and the reason we had kept her little paperweight a secret from Christy ... the reason that had the potential to bring this whole building down around us.
Christy’s voice turned to steel. “Why do you have my mentor’s skull?”
Sally, finally grasping that this was indeed a big fucking deal to at least one person in the room, seemed to realize things were escalating toward potential violence. So, of course, rather than try to make things better, her eyes flashed black and her hand slid inside her coat to where her weapon of choice, a Desert Eagle, was holstered.
Shit on toast!
“It’s because it tells the future,” I cried out, hoping I wasn’t too late to stop things from completely devolving.
* * *
“You knew?” Christy asked accusingly. Sheila likewise turned toward me, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
I opened my mouth, wondering what answer I was going to stammer as way of apology.
You’re not going to win this by pussing out. Man the fuck up.
That wasn’t helping. Christy was my friend. There was no way I was attacking her and ... wait. Dr. Death hadn’t actually said to rend her limb from limb. Was it possible he was actually giving me some useful advice for a change? Maybe he was right – mewling was just going to make things worse.
“Yes, I knew,” I said, willing my voice to be steady. “Tom and Ed did too.” I felt the stink eye coming from the direction of my roommate, but fuck him. Besides, if I was sailing into a sea of shit, I was sure as hell taking some boating buddies with me.
“How could you?”
“Okay, you need to calm down so we can...”
“Do not tell me to calm down!”
Oh, fuck this shit. “SIT DOWN AND KNOCK IT OFF!!”
The compulsion took them all by surprise ... well, except for the two in the room who seemed immune to them, but they at least heard my voice.
Christy, for her part, looked as if I’d just slapped her in the face. For a moment, I was certain she would blow large chunks out of my favorite torso as way of response. After a second or two, however, she averted her gaze and sat. Unfortunately, the red glow around her continued to emanate.
The door to the conference room suddenly burst open and two Templar strode in, crosses at the ready, because this situation obviously wasn’t explosive enough.
Thankfully, Sheila was on her feet in a heartbeat, ushering them out of the room. That was good, because I really didn’t want to take my attention off of Christy right then.
I needed to talk fast. “I’m not going to tell you to be happy about this, or that this is no big deal. I’m sorry, but...”
“You hated him,” she spat.
“You’re right. He was a dick. I’m not sorry for what happened to him. I’m also not sorry that we inadvertently found a use for him as he is now. What I am sorry about is hurting you because you’re my friend and I know he meant a lot to you.”
“He was like a father to me,” she replied, the glow around her subsiding as tears began to fall from her eyes. “He raised me after my powers manifested, after my real parents became terrified of me. He took me in, taught me about our people, made me the witch I am today. He helped me in so many ways.”
“I know,” I replied, feeling like quite the stepped-in pile of dog shit. “The thing is, he can still help. I don’t know whether it’s dumb luck or fate...” Yeah, I really shouldn’t have been walking down that path, but damn, sometimes circumstance ended up being a little too freaky for even me. “But whatever the case, a part of him is still here.”
She glanced at me, her brows furrowing.
“I mean in more ways than just ... that.” I gestured toward the skull grinning up at us from the table, the look on it somehow smug even in death. Asshole. “There’s still a piece of him there. You heard it.”
“He’s not at rest.”
“No, he’s not.” I had no idea what afterlife awaited the Magi, but I had to hope it was more than just becoming the metaphysical equivalent of a fortune cookie. “The thing is...”
“He won’t be until this is all over,” she said, finishing my sentence for me. That was good, because I really had no idea where I was going with that thought. Even better, she seemed to be calming down. I had a feeling we were all gonna be on her shit list for a while to come, even Tom, but it seemed the danger of being blown to bits had passed. “You said he could see the future?”
“Yes,” I replied carefully. “Every time he speaks up, it’s about an event that eventually comes to pass. He foresaw the fall of Boston and the rise of Vehron.” I left out the minor bullshit he’d spouted, like the time in Vegas he’d screamed out a warning about the terror of the endless night, only for it to foretell no more than the power grid failing. There was also the nonsense. Back right before Ed had been kidnapped, the skull had spouted some shit about purity and the first ... whatever the hell that meant. Oh well, it always seemed to have some disdain where Sally and I were concerned. I wouldn’t have been surprised to know that was the eldritch version of his spirit fucking with us.
“Knowledge of the future is dangerous,” Christy said. “Long foretold prophecy is one thing. Scholars and mystics can debate them for eons. But knowing the immediate future is tricky. One can run the risk of causing the very event they’re trying to escape.”
“Yeah...”
“But I also believe that the future is malleable and can be rewritten,” she continued. “Harry was so afraid of the coming of the Shining One, the downfall of our people. Perhaps this is his way of still trying to keep that from coming to pass. Maybe he knew this day would come and we would be reunited.”
“He could still be trying to protect you,” Sheila said.
Christy turned toward her and flashed a grateful smile. “What if he’s trying to protect me from you?”
“Then I’m happy he’s around to do so.”
* * *
Amazing. The person to defuse the situation was also the same one Decker had been purposefully trying to rid the world of ... first by destroying me, and then by giving up all pretense of sanity and forming an alliance with the vampires. Funny how the world worked sometimes.
That didn’t mean Christy wasn’t still ticked at the rest of us. I had a feeling we’d all be getting an earful of that. For now, though, she made it clear in no uncertain terms that she’d be holding on to her master’s skull until such time as our mission was over, at which point – assuming we weren’t in a position for our skulls to become matching bookends to his – she’d give him proper last rites as a Mentor and Magi.
Sally came close to ruining that, opening her mouth when Christy claimed the skull and managing to emit a “Hey!”
Thankfully, I was on hand to mutter, “Shut the fuck up now!” under my breath. It was probably just barely audible to Ed, who was seated right next to me, but Sally heard me plain and clear. She locked eyes with me and I held her gaze, willing her to get the hint.
For a moment, it was touch and go. Sally’s glare was an alien one; no trace of the familiar fuck-you attitude that usually permeated such exchanges. James’s warning began to play out in my mind, but then she relaxed her gaze, rolled her eyes, and nodded ever so slightly.
That was too close.
* * *
We spent the next hour hashing out details – mostly petty squabbling between the rest of us and Bernadette over what the Templar would and wouldn’t tolerate from us. We decided my group would get the pick of the weapons Sally had brought, albeit I wasn’t entirely
certain I wanted the Defilers to be armed. Sounded like a good recipe for being shot in the back, even if by accident. Bernadette had originally refused to take any of them – citing that her men had faith to back them up and needed nothing else.
She was none too pleased when I pointed out that at least one of her Templar’s faith wasn’t worth the paper his Bible tracts were written on. If there was one, there would undoubtedly be more – quite likely the majority. She didn’t want to hear that faith was a tricky thing, far easier to profess having than to actually possess, but I could see it in her eyes that she knew I wasn’t bullshitting her.
In the end, Ed was the one who offered the compromise of outing the posers by having me go down the line, touching each of their preferred items of holy ass-kickery. Note to self: beat the shit out of Ed when the opportunity presents itself.
Oddly enough, Bernadette didn’t seem to have any issue with causing me unjust pain – fat, hotdog-sucking bitch.
The smirk on Sally’s face said all there was to say there, and Christy had stayed quiet ever since the row about Decker’s noggin. Sheila was the only one to pipe up with any concern, but – even to my own amazement – I found myself ratifying the idea.
“It’s okay. I can take it,” I lied, glancing down at my watch. It was late enough for the sun to be shining. “If we do it soon, I’ll have plenty of time to heal up. It’s not like we’re probably going anywhere for the next several hours anyway.”
Sheila tilted her head at me and shrugged, her meaning clear – this was my choice to make.
“Once we determine who has the mojo and who doesn’t, we can split up the guns accordingly.”
“Are we sure these clowns aren’t going to just shoot themselves in the feet instead?” Sally asked rather undiplomatically. Oh yeah, I was sure she and they were going to be the best of buds on this little field trip.
“Don’t doubt the prowess of my brothers,” Bernadette spat. “You see only that which we wish you to see. Though we may prefer the traditional weapons of our order, we are well-versed in the trappings of the modern age.” She reached her stubby fingers across the table and grabbed one of the handguns from Sally’s pile of happy boom-booms.
The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill Book 7) Page 16