My roommate in turn gave a sheepish grin, no doubt hoping Turd didn’t remember how he’d taken a shit on their so-called sacred trees.
“That not cub. That human who accompanied T’lunta to Woods of Mourning.”
“T’lunta claim he his and Magi’s cub.”
Turd looked back at me and took a single step my way, his stride enough to cover most of the distance between us. “You think to trick Turd?”
“Um, no. It’s just that...”
“T’lunta’s friends kill Turd’s daughter. You try to hide that you brought cub with you to Woods of Mourning so Turd no take revenge!”
What?!
“Now Turd knows your secret.”
“Um, you do?”
“Turd claims what is yours. Will raise cub as my own clan.”
Okay, that was unexpected.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Ed shouted from somewhere behind me. “I’m not his cub, you fucking moron!”
Turd made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Take cub away. Turd train him later.”
I glanced back to see the leader of the ambush dragging my protesting roommate away. Ed put up a fight, but he might as well have been a squirming kitten compared to the Sasquatch. His eyes locked with mine and I shrugged, giving him what I hoped was my best apologetic smile. Right before he was dragged into one of the huts, he flipped me the finger.
Such an ungrateful cub I’d raised.
Prisoners of War
Turd cleared his throat, no doubt to remind me that he was still there – as if I had any chance in hell of forgetting.
I turned back, debating how best to handle this. I could cry and beg for mercy, and Lord knows a part of me really wanted to do that, but I had a feeling that would be about as useful as just asking him to let us go. There was little doubt that my near future involved a lot of pain.
Fuck it, I might as well deserve it.
“So, Turd, how ya been?”
“Turd happy to see you, Freewill T’lunta.” He smiled, showing off the chipped and rotting teeth in his mouth framed by two sets of canines, long enough to put a vampire’s to shame. “Turd very happy.”
His tone turned my blood cold. His was the voice of a kid who had been denied a long desired toy for far too long, only to find it sitting out in the open on his brother’s bed.
“Listen to any good tunes lately?”
As expected, that wiped the smile right off his face. As I’d learned during my brief foray up in Canada, Turd had one weakness. Unfortunately for him, that weakness was one of the Feet’s chief taboos: he liked technology. Exposing that truth had caused Turd to lose a lot of face. Hell, up until I saw him sitting on the throne a few minutes back, I’d entertained the fantasy that maybe he’d been busted down to janitor.
Turd leaned in close, bathing me in the eyebrow-melting rancidity of his breath. “You embarrass Turd, cause others to doubt Turd. Turd repay the favor many times over.”
Huh. Gotta love self-absorbed assholes. Forget the fact that the bullshit from the Woods of Mourning had plunged us into a war, that supernatural creatures not seen for eons had overrun whole swathes of the planet. No, the thing that pissed him off the most was that I’d embarrassed him. And here I thought vampires were arrogant.
He stepped past me, then stood glowering down at Sally. “Turd remembers your mate too.”
“His mate?” she asked, turning toward me.
“Long story,” I mouthed. Needless to say, I hadn’t had time to bring her up to speed on everything. Guess that was gonna be a fun recap.
“Not know the rest of you, but T’lunta enemies. You are all Turd’s prisoners now. Turd will decide your fate. Turd will decide when you die.”
Christy stepped forward. “The Magi have never had a quarrel with the Forest Folk.”
“True,” Turd replied, turning her way. “You were prisoner of T’lunta?”
“No, they are my friends.”
He folded his hands across his massive chest, as if considering what she’d said. “If friends with enemies, then enemy you are.”
“They are my allies in this venture, and thus should be afforded the same neutrality as I hold.”
Turd was silent at this for a moment. He gestured for her to continue, apparently curious to see where she was going with this. I had to admit, I was too.
“We ask for safe passage through these woods.”
“Why?”
“Ours is a mission that may benefit your people. An evil has arisen. He has claimed one of the great cities to the southwest. We have come to stop him.”
Turd’s eyes opened wide. He turned toward me. “This true?”
Holy crap, was this actually working? I had to wonder if Christy was using the Force or something on this piece of shit’s weak mind. If so, she really needed to start doing it more often. “Yes, it’s true. A great power has taken over the city of Boston. His influence has been spreading for months now. What Christy – the Magi – says is true about helping you too. I’ve seen the bodies of your people, broken and left for dead by this enemy to us all. I’ve come up here to end this. I’ve come to kill him.”
Turd was silent for a moment, shock evident on his face.
And then he started laughing.
Guess maybe Christy’s powers of suggestion needed a little work after all.
* * *
The rest of the Sasquatches around us followed Turd’s lead, filling the air with grating laughter that would have creeped out even the Joker.
Turd pointed a finger in my face. I’d have bitten it off if I wasn’t certain I’d have caught something nasty from putting it in my mouth. “You,” he said, still cackling, “puny Freewill T’lunta, seek to kill mighty Freewill T’lunta warrior?”
I glanced at Sally, my lips a thin line across my face. She merely shrugged. “He does sort of have a point.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the help,” I muttered before turning my attention back to Turd. “I take it you’ve heard of Vehron.”
Turd’s laughter finally died down, and he spat upon the ground at my feet. Ugh, that was definitely a loogie I was glad hadn’t hit me. “Turd has heard of warrior from the past, reborn. Turd’s people have died at his hands, many tribes slain by him. Turd is here to hunt him, kill him. Turd is here to reclaim our lands and slaughter all T’lunta we find.”
“So we’re on the same mission?” I asked. Well, okay, maybe excluding that last part anyway.
“Save your breath, Bill,” Sally whispered from behind me, so low that I barely heard her.
Fucking negative Nelly. Nothing ventured...
“We could help you. We...”
A massive fist met the side of my face, lifting me off the ground and sending me flying.
Yep, nothing gained.
* * *
Thank goodness part of my healing abilities included growing my teeth back. I’d have hated to face eternity with dentures. At the rate things were going, it would only be a few hours before my face was convex again.
As I had lain there on the ground, contemplating all the pretty colors my jaw was probably turning, Turd had leaned over me – hocked another disgusting wad of phlegm, one which landed square on my chest with a nasty splash – and said, “Turd hates great T’lunta warrior, but Turd hates you more. Turd will only help you do one thing – die.”
He’d turned and made a dismissive gesture, at which point I was scraped off the ground and dragged, along with my friends, out of the clearing. Once more, they gave Christy deferential treatment, in that they at least didn’t rough her up, but apparently her status as a neutral party was now null and void in their eyes. Poor girl. At some point, she was going to conclude that her life had taken a definite turn for the worse since she’d started associating with me. I could only hope that when this happened, it didn’t give her cause to reconsider her former master’s words.
On the subject of Decker, there was at least o
ne small consolation. We’d been forced to abandon our weapons and possessions back at the house. Seeing Christy’s hands free, I garnered Decker had been among those items left behind. At least I wouldn’t have to spend the duration of my torture and eventual execution listening to that asshole. Victories – take them where you can, I say.
I was expecting us to be thrown into one of the huts. They all looked big enough to serve as prisoner barracks. However, apparently some of the Sasquatch were smarter than they looked. The huts, although large, didn’t appear to be the most reinforced structures. Busting through a wall of moss and twigs wouldn’t have presented much of a challenge.
The giant pit we were led to, however, was a different story.
Fifteen feet deep, it was covered in a tight net of heavy logs bound with thick vines. The rocky sides appeared wet and slick – probably greased to hamper anyone trying to climb them. At least, I hoped it was grease. I couldn’t help but picture a bunch of Feet circling the area, smearing their asses against the walls. Ugh. I was so gonna need to bathe in hand sanitizer if I ever got out of this mess.
Speaking of smeared assholes, though, as the Feet lifted a hatch on the crude prison, I saw that, while the accommodations could be worse, the company couldn’t. Several vampires already occupied the pit. Most of them were strangers, the random faceless cannon fodder one might find in a bad fantasy novel. However, despite the dim light below and the dirt upon his smudged face, one figure in the bunch was easily recognizable.
“So, Freewill,” François spat as he stood, straightening his tattered sports jacket, “to what do I owe the displeasure?”
* * *
“Any chance I can get put into a different ... oof!” A pair of frying-pan-sized hands shoved me into the empty space of the open hatch.
The drop itself was nothing, but, caught off guard, I still landed face first onto the cold hard ground below. A cruel snicker met my abrupt descent – fucking asshole surrender monkey.
Sally was smart enough to take the hint and leap down into the pit, landing smoothly on her feet before she could be pushed. Adam, Mike, and Dave followed, landing with considerably less grace than my partner.
Christy came last, one of the Feet holding her by the arms and lowering her down as far as he could reach. She dropped the remaining few feet and landed unsteadily.
“You okay?” Sally asked her.
“Yeah, just need to sit down for a bit.”
“No magic,” one of the Sasquatches above warned. “We watch you.” He then shut the trap door, locking us below. Oh well, so much for plan A – teleporting the fuck out of here the second they turned their backs.
I got back to my feet and turned to my friends. “Is everyone else okay?”
“Those fucking things hit really hard,” Adam said, worry showing on his face for the first time since I’d met him in his vampire form.
“No shit,” I replied, feeling the skin of my bruised jaw as my healing finally decided to take over.
“I am surprised our friend Turd did not rip your arms off like a child might tear the wings off a fly,” François said.
“Maybe he remembers what happened last time,” I replied, turning to face him.
He scowled as he strode up to me. “Oh, I am certain he remembers. I know I do.”
The Last to be First
“I take it your little deal with him is null and void since we’re sharing this executive suite here.”
François’s eyes narrowed at me, and several of the other vampires sitting in our cell tensed up. No doubt they were his men. Out of the fire and definitely into the frying pan.
“Ah yes,” he replied, painting the most unpleasant of smiles upon his face, “you were truly in rare form that day, you and your strumpet.” His eyes never left mine, but I wondered if Sally realized he was talking about her. “Despite everything, you somehow managed to ruin a mutually lucrative business arrangement, destroy my chances of rightfully ascending to the First Coven, and start a war in the process.”
“What can I say? When I’m hot, I’m hot.”
“Yo, Bill,” Mike said. “Who the fuck is this guy?”
“DO NOT INTERRUPT YOUR BETTERS!!”
The compulsion caught me by surprise and knocked me flat on my ass, sending me skidding back several feet.
Fuck! I’d forgotten how powerful François was. He was a vampire some seven centuries in age. Though I’d since gotten a taste of both Alex’s and Vehron’s strength, it was stupid to forget that this guy was no slouch. He could’ve fucked me up six ways to Sunday and, in the current tight confines, there probably wasn’t dick I could do about it.
His voice still ringing in my mind, I glanced around. Sure enough, Dave, Mike, and Adam were standing still as statues, their eyes glazed over. Although I considered my DM to have a pretty forceful personality, his will was nothing compared to such raw power.
Christy was leaning against the wall. Her hands were on her knees, but her eyes were clear.
“You okay?”
“Don’t worry about me.” She smiled, and that’s when I remembered what she’d said about developing a way to insulate herself against compulsions. Apparently, she’d put her plan into action at some point, using herself as a guinea pig. That only left...
I glanced over and saw Sally. She had been caught off guard as much as I’d been, but where the others were deep under François’s spell, her eyes were clear.
“Curious,” he said, stepping past me.
I stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, asshole. Leave her al ... ACK!”
His claws extended at lightning speed, and before I knew what had happened, my throat had been slit. It wasn’t deep, but I nevertheless found myself gagging on my own blood.
I staggered back, clutching at the wound.
“Much better,” he said as he neared Sally.
She glanced toward me, concern showing on her face for a moment, but then turned to meet him.
As I continued to gag, the area in which we were held took on a red hue. For a moment, I thought it was Dr. Death forcing his way to the surface again. I was just about to conclude that this time I was more than likely to let him when I realized it wasn’t me. The crimson glare was originating from Christy. Her body was alight with power, and she did not look happy.
* * *
Even had I been able to speak, there was no way I was gonna say shit. Christy was pregnant, tired, angry, and her boyfriend was currently MIA. If she wanted to take out all of those frustrations against an asshole like François, then who was I to tell her no?
Sadly, not everyone shared that view.
“No magic!” a voice roared from above. “Bung give you last warning.”
Bung? Goddamn, these things were fucking ridiculous.
For a moment, Christy looked like she was about to tell Bung what to go do with his hole, but then she thought better of it. The glow around her subsided.
François let out a chuckle, but then something dark and wet splattered against his face.
“No compulsion either, T’lunta,” Bung said. Through the bars at the top of our cage, I could see him wiping his fingers off on his fur. Judging from the Bigfoot-reek that now emanated from François, I guessed he hadn’t just been hit with dirt.
A better asshole to be shit-encrusted I couldn’t think of.
Sally backed up a step, a disgusted look upon her face – probably because she’d caught some of the splatter on her blouse.
François’s eyes flashed black for a moment, but another growl from above apparently caused him to think better of any response. He merely held out a hand. One of his vamp minions immediately raced to his side and placed a handkerchief in it.
The prissy cocksucker took several seconds to wipe himself as clean as he could. By that point, the wound on my throat had closed up, and I could again breathe without inhaling a lungful of my own blood.
He glanced once more at Sa
lly and then turned back to me. I thought perhaps he meant to continue slicing me to shreds, but instead, he smiled.
Somehow, I found that far worse.
* * *
“Your strumpet has been compelled,” he said.
“Okay, now I know you’re talking about me,” she said from behind him.
François ignored her, however, and continued to grin at me. “It would have to be someone powerful to ignore my will, far stronger than Ogedai’s lackey.”
I faced him with a grin of my own. “Oh, you mean the lackey who now outranks you.”
“Used to outrank me,” he spat, quite literally.
Gross. What was it with assholes and spittle? Goddamn, did nobody ever teach these fuckwads to say it not ... wait a second. “What do you mean ‘used to’? What happened to James?”
“Nothing, fool, so far that I am aware – unless I were supremely lucky. Alas, my presence here with you would seem to suggest I am not.”
“I think I get what he’s saying,” Christy said from her place against the wall.
That’s when realization sank in. “No way.”
“Theodora’s death. It left a vacuum of power within the thirteen,” he said, circling me as I took it in. “With what happened: the ambush, the loss of face in front of their allies, the embarrassment of being caught so utterly by surprise, they had little choice. Even Alex, supremely arrogant as he is, could not deny that doing anything other than immediately filling the void dear Thea left would be tantamount to courting disaster.”
“But you ... well, not to mince words, but I sort of got the impression Alex didn’t like you.”
François shrugged. “Nor I him. But there was no other. I am an elder among our kind, twice denied. There was no time for him to find a loyal scapegoat, nor anyone present with near my level of experience. Of course, he did not say this to my face. Even he is aware that such folly is best kept out of the political arena. After you and your pack of fools left, he turned to me, embraced me as a brother and I him – swearing undying loyalty to my brothers and sisters. Thus, the pact was sealed.”
“You can’t be serious.”
The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill Book 7) Page 25