“Your funeral.”
“Smart girl,” Sally’s voice carried down to us from the now open portal above. “Now get the fuck back to work.”
Kara muttered something under her breath before scampering away. It was probably a petulant dig at being ordered about. She tended to do that a lot, but Sally mostly pretended not to hear her, oddly displaying an extra dollop of tolerance for her antics. Of course, maybe that was just relative to what she afforded me.
“Care to rephrase your earlier statement?” Sally grinned as she peered down from above. Oddly enough, clocking me usually seemed to help improve her mood. Go figure.
A momentary temptation to nod respectfully passed through my mind, but fuck that shit. Our roles might’ve been reversed from back in our Village Coven days, but all that meant to me was I could give her a dose of her own medicine - something that always improved my mood. “Yeah, I was thinking maybe we should just quit with the foreplay and move right on to the sex. Sound like a plan, Lu?”
Her eyes flashed black with annoyance. “How’s this for an answer?” She ducked back in, and I heard the sound of wood scraping against wood. By the time I put two and two together, her desk was already crashing through the remainder of the plywood and headed my way.
I rolled to the right and fell off the stage just as it landed where I’d been sitting a moment earlier, shattering into pieces and greatly widening the crater in the middle.
Some people just had no sense of humor.
♦ ♦ ♦
I was still dusting myself off when Sally came downstairs. While there was little doubt she’d put on a show for all the eyeballs present, I could also tell whatever real annoyance she’d felt had already burned itself out. Had she been serious about chewing me a new asshole, she’d have taken the express route from above - probably landing far more gracefully than I had. Instead, minutes had passed and I saw that she was taking the time to acknowledge some of the refugees as she walked by them.
As much as I wanted to make a douchey comment about that, I couldn’t. Despite her iron-bitch exterior, she’d continually surprised me by showing what appeared to be genuine concern toward the welfare of most of the humans here.
Most being the operative word. It certainly didn’t go unnoticed that some had just up and disappeared - there one day, gone the next. Usually, it was troublemakers - people that the others wouldn’t be sad to see leave. I wasn’t quite so naïve to believe they had conveniently moved on, though. At the end of the day, this was still a coven, and there were vampires that needed to be fed.
Sally sure as shit hadn’t reformed to the point of becoming Mother Teresa. Even so, I found myself growing fond of seeing her human moments, although I wasn’t about to admit it out loud.
She walked up to me and put her hands on her shapely hips. Despite the rapidly deteriorating state of the world, she somehow still managed to appear both kempt and fashionable - no doubt thanks to her personal stylist and fellow Village Coven refugee, Alfonso. Sally was only willing to go so far when it came to suffering for the cause. “Have I made my point?”
She’d asked her question loud enough to get the attention of the room. It wasn’t surprising. Since joining her in Pandora Coven, she’d continually reinforced that showing any weakness wasn’t an option for her. I could respect that, but it still didn’t mean I cared to lie down and play dead at her whimsy.
No matter what title she held, she was still Sally to me. More so, lately I had a newfound appreciation for our time together. Our banter had always been like a game between us, but it was one that I took increasing comfort in - regardless of the often painful side effects. Who knows? Maybe it was my time spent alone in Alex’s dungeon, or the impending end of the world, but I’d been making it a point to be more mindful of the good times as of late.
Even so, there was no way I was bending over and taking her shit. I opened my mouth to reply with something guaranteed to piss her off when we were saved by the proverbial bell.
“We have visitors,” a voice called out. “They look official.”
We both turned toward the source. Steve, her other lieutenant in the coven, had relayed the news. He was tall, thin, and pretty much all business - definitely a yes-man, but I couldn’t deny he often got results. Needless to say, I had to listen to Sally constantly crowing about him. It would have become quickly grating had I not been certain that was exactly the reaction she was going for.
“Check them out,” she instructed him.
He turned back toward the entrance of the club and disappeared, nary a comment made. There’s always gotta be one kiss-ass in the crowd.
I raised an eyebrow. “Vamps?”
“Or shape-shifters,” she replied tersely, our little spat apparently over for now.
In the weeks prior, the few visitors we’d had could mostly be compartmentalized into two camps: things trying to kill us and those seeking protection from the things trying to kill us. The former were usually not overly subtle, but there had been a couple of near disasters - enough to make everyone a bit paranoid.
The ugly rock monsters that inhabited the storm drains beneath the city - the Jahabich, or whatever the fuckers were called - made for pretty good doppelgangers when they wanted to. They’d tried more than once to gain entrance that way, but had failed mainly because we weren’t complete fucking idiots. No matter how human something looked, if it smelled like a pile of shit-encrusted granite, chances were it was getting blasted to hell. Pretty simple rules to live by, all in all. Even so, the damned things kept trying, so it made sense to keep our shields raised at all times.
After a few minutes passed and we noticed no gunfire or other such pleasantries exchanged, we made our way to the entrance hall. Steve was reentering the building, followed by five others. Two were ours - guards. They stood flanking our guests. Even with so-called friendlies, one couldn’t be too safe.
I didn’t need to catch their scent to conclude the three newcomers were vamps. Most humans who came looking for sanctuary were in pretty dire straits, usually lugging the tattered remains of their belongings with them. Decked out in their black suits and trench coats, it almost seemed these guys hadn’t noticed the world going to Hell around them. Judging by their bored expressions, they found Armageddon about as interesting as watching moths fly into a bug zapper.
We’d gotten official visits before. The Prefect of the West Coast, a vampire named Yvonne, was known to send her representatives every so often. Sometimes, they came with orders. Occasionally, they came to check on how we were holding up. Rarely did they come with supplies, though.
The two in the rear carried a large cargo container, roughly seven feet long by about three feet wide and deep, between them.
“Is it Christmas time already?”
“Could be,” Sally commented by my side.
The lead vamp, sporting an overdone mustache and goatee combo that made me wonder if he was going to start bartering for our souls, stepped forward. “Coven Master Sally, I presume.”
“You presume correct,” she replied.
His eyes strayed in my direction for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something, but then turned back toward her. I seemed to get a lot of that lately.
“We have been ordered to provide safe passage to your newest charge.”
“My newest charge?”
“Yes. We are delivering an assignee to your coven.”
I glanced toward Sally and her eyes met mine. They asked the same question I was thinking: What the fuck is this joker talking about?
“I didn’t realize Yvonne was in the habit of pre-stocking her covens,” Sally said. “If I’d known, I’d have baked a cake.”
“We are not from the Santa Clara complex.”
“Oh?”
“Orders from the First Coven,” he replied. “For security and safety reasons, the designee has been placed under your command.”
“Security and safety?” I asked. “Whose?”
“Th
ey didn’t elaborate.” He produced a thick sheet of papers from his jacket and held them out. Ye gods, even in the middle of the freaking apocalypse, the rulers of the vampire world loved their goddamned paperwork.
Almost as if sensing my disdain, Sally took the bundle from our visitor and passed it over to me. “My assistant will see that these are properly filed.”
I took hold and promptly tossed them over my shoulder. “Filed. Can we open our present now?”
The look on the other vamp’s face was priceless. Typically, that sort of thing would mean an instant beating at the hands of an elder, but I had little doubt these clowns knew who I was. Maybe I wasn’t the prophesized flavor of the month anymore, but I still had enough of a reputation that most vamps wouldn’t start shit with me if they didn’t have to.
Sally, for her part, was wearing an expression that was halfway between exasperation and amusement. She liked the official bullshit about as much as I did, but still had an image to maintain. Concealing the barest of grins, she addressed the lead vamp. “Do you have anything else for me?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, then. Steve, provide our guests with some refreshments and then show them the fuck out.”
Needless to say, her skills as a hostess had been somewhat strained these past several weeks.
Steve, being a far better subordinate than I, nodded for our guests to follow him inside - most likely to the bar. There was no point in ticking off the Draculas over something as silly as failing to offer their lackeys a little hospitality.
The two holding the crate let go unceremoniously, and it landed with a heavy thud. A muffled curse sounded from within.
My eyebrows shot up at the seemingly familiar cadence. Nah, it couldn’t be.
I held my tongue until the undead delivery boys left the room, leaving Sally and me alone with the package. “Did that sound like...?”
“Only one way to find out.” She stepped up to the crate, extended her claws, and shoved them under the lid. One quick heave later and the nails holding the top shut squealed against the wood as they gave way to her strength.
The cover clattered to the floor and we found a very familiar face staring angrily back at us from within.
“It’s about fucking time. I couldn’t breathe in this thing.”
Smiling broadly, I offered a hand to help our newest recruit out. My eyes glanced toward Sally. “So what do you think? Return to sender?”
“Nah,” she replied, a wicked grin forming on her face. “I think this one has possibilities.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Half a Prayer
Available in ebook, paperback, and audiobook.
Author’s Note
Welcome, dear reader, to the beginning of the end. With this installment we have marked our entry into the second half of The Tome of Bill. The world is rapidly going to Hell and Bill Ryder must figure out whether he wants to stop it or enjoy the rollercoaster ride for as long as it lasts. Which will he choose? Well, that would be telling.
I find myself with mixed feelings in this regards. On the one hand, I can see the end on the horizon. It’s still quite distant, at least a few books away, but it’s there nevertheless and I find that a bit sad. On the flip side, much like a child playing with wooden blocks, there is the fun of knocking down what I have worked so hard to build. Yeah, I’m easily amused that way.
We’re probably getting ahead of ourselves, though. Let us not bury the patient before he has indeed passed on. There’s still plenty of story left to tell and it’s only going to get wilder from here.
Likewise there’s still plenty of challenges left for me: that fine balance of being a tour guide through a deadly apocalypse - one in which there are most certainly repercussions - while still ensuring that Bill and Sally never lose that spark that keeps them trading quips.
Regardless of how things play out, the journey has been and continues to be incredibly enjoyable for me. I sincerely hope you feel the same way.
Until next time...
Rick G.
About the Author
Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.
Defilers beware!
Rick Gualtieri is the author of:
Bill the Vampire (The Tome of Bill - 1)
Night Stalker: A Tome of Bill Series Companion
Scary Dead Things (The Tome of Bill - 2)
The Mourning Woods (The Tome of Bill - 3)
Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill - 4)
Sunset Strip: A Tome of Bill Series Companion
Goddamned Freaky Monsters (The Tome of Bill - 5)
Half A Prayer (The Tome of Bill - 6)
The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill - 7)
Shining Fury: A Tome of Bill Series Companion
The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill - 8)
GET BENT!
Bigfoot Hunters
Devil Hunters
Lycan Moon
Midnite’s Daughter
Goddamned Freaky Monsters (The Tome of Bill Book 5) Page 35