The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou)

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The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou) Page 6

by Rick Gualtieri


  Before I could form another protest on my lips, my field of vision was rapidly filled by an extreme close-up of his fist. Guess the argument was settled after all, especially since I didn't even feel myself hitting the floor.

  Sunday Bloody Sunday

  “...Ugh! Please tell Gramps not to back his car over me again.”

  “What?”

  Wait a second. That voice sounded familiar. Female, but definitely not Mom or Grandma. That must mean unrelated, which probably means ... oh yeah ... got to bump me some uglies last night. Just please don't be a hairy Sasquatch beast when I open my eyes.

  “Come on, wake up. Christ! How hard did Jeff hit you?”

  Jeff? Oh shit, Night Razor. Dammit, I'm doing it again. I have got to stop dying around that asshole.

  Wait, no fading heartbeat this time. Guess I technically didn't die again. Oh, that's right ... the fucker punched my lights out. Hope he didn't draw any dicks on my face, too.

  “Jesus Christ, Bill, get up or I'm leaving without you,” the voice threatened.

  “Dr. Death,” I managed to croak in response as my senses slowly returned.

  “No way am I calling you that stupid fucking name. That's Jeff's idiotic rule, and since he ain't here, fuck that shit.”

  “Okay, okay. I'm getting up. Just quit your goddamn yelling...” I opened my eyes. “You! You fucking bitch!” I spat, focusing on Sally's traitorous, but still hot – let's not completely forget our priorities here – face. She was staring down at me, wearing a pair of silk pajamas. (Oh yeah ... me likey likey ... no. I've got to focus. Bitch got me killed.) Judging from how far above me she stood, I guessed I was still lying on the floor. Assholes had just left me where I fell.

  “No need to be rude,” she said with a disdainful sniff.

  “RUDE?! Because of you, I'm a fucking walking corpse being held prisoner by a bigger, meaner walking corpse.” Glaring at her, I pushed myself to a sitting position.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn't anything personal.”

  “That's the best you've got? A pathetic little sorry?”

  “Well, yeah,” she countered. “Like I said, it wasn't personal. We were just having a little fun, and you fit the description of what I was supposed to bring. Besides, you didn't have to come. I didn't exactly force you.” Touché.

  “That doesn't make it better. There are a lot of people dead because you and your coven of shitheads decided to have a little fun. Wait. What do you mean fit the description?”

  “You're not going to like it,” she replied sheepishly.

  “I doubt I could like it any less than I already do.”

  She shrugged. “Fine. Dorks, dweebs, geeks. You know the type. That's who we were supposed to bring. Last month, the guys all brought fat girls. This time it was ladies night. You have to admit a grown man carrying a handful of Castles and Dragons books...”

  “Dungeons and Dragons,” I corrected.

  “Whatever. Sorry, but you weren't exactly dripping with coolness. Besides, it's not like I had much of a choice. Whenever Jeff sends us out on one of his little scavenger hunts, he makes sure to give all of his instructions as a compulsion.”

  “Compulsion?”

  “Yeah. That thing he and James tried on you last night,” she explained, idly brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You know, feels like someone is blasting an order into your skull? That's a compulsion. Unlike you, the rest of us hear and obey.” She was a bit snippy with that last part, almost as if she was resentful.

  “So he commands you, and you have no choice but to do it?”

  “For the most part, yeah.”

  “And does he do this a lot?”

  “Pretty much. Gets off on it, I think. He especially likes to use it on us girls. Has us do all sorts of freaky shit.”

  “Like ... for example?” I asked, the pervert in me coming to the forefront.

  “Like when he first turned me. The asshole had me lap dance him whenever he got in the mood. Wherever we were, I'd have to start shaking my tight little ass.” No self-esteem issues with her, apparently. “We could be in the middle of fucking Macy's and one word was all he’d need for me to start grinding against him.”

  “What about sex?” I asked. Hey, if she was explaining things, I might as well get the dirt.

  “Huh?”

  “Does he compel you to sleep with him, too?”

  “No. I just do that because he's cute.”

  Yeah, that figured. “I see. Ah, anyway. How does it work?”

  “Well, when a man and a woman like each other very much...”

  “I know how sex works,” I growled, getting to my feet.

  She gave me a grin. “Just making sure. As for compulsion, pretty much all of us can try to do it, although it tends to be stronger from sire to child. The older ones amongst us, though, can usually get it to work on whomever they please. That's why James was able to try it on you.”

  “And it usually works?”

  “Mostly. As we get older, we develop resistance to it. But it takes a while.”

  “But it didn't work on me right out of the gate,” I pointed out, feeling the need to state what was no doubt obvious to her.

  “Yeah. Surprised the shit out of all of us. Most of us thought Freewills were just a myth.”

  Vampires thinking something else was a myth. That’s a good one. “And a Freewill is what, exactly?”

  “Supposedly every so often, a person is turned who is able to completely ignore being compelled, even by the strongest of masters. There’s more to it, but the bottom line is that it's really rare. In fact, I don't think it's happened in a long time. If even James thought you were a myth, that says something. You're kind of like the vampire equivalent of finding a unicorn in your backyard.”

  Okay, that was something potentially useful. On the other hand, if it was as rare as Sally said, I could still wind up on a table in some dark dungeon being dissected by vampire mad scientists. Not exactly a fate worth looking forward to. On the positive side, at least they couldn't willingly make me climb onto the table for it. So, I guess that was something.

  She snapped her fingers in front of me. “Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open, or can we go eat now?”

  “Sorry. This is kind of new to me. I have a lot of questions.”

  “Fine. But just a few more. I'm starving. One of these days someone really should write a manual for the newbs.”

  I mock bowed, sarcastically replying, “Thank you for your undying compassion, my mistress of the night ... speaking of which, why exactly are you here?”

  “Actually, it was James’s suggestion. Last night he mentioned we should get you a babysitter. Jeff said it was my fault we got you dumped on us, so voila.” Oh yeah, feeling the love now. “I'm supposed to show you the ropes, get you fed, keep you from doing anything stupid to get yourself killed, et cetera. In short...”

  “A babysitter,” I finished. “Great. Remind me to thank ... James, was it? Are you talking about Ozymandias?”

  “Duh! You didn't think his name was really Ozymandias, did you?”

  “Of course not,” I lied. “So why was everyone calling him that?”

  “It's tradition.”

  “It's tradition to call someone a stupid name?”

  “No, idiot! It's tradition that visiting elders respect the rules of each coven. Since one of Jeff's decrees is that everyone takes a new name...”

  “Kinda like a fucked up version of the X-men?”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind. So, James has to respect Jeff's rules, and that means he has to take on an alias while he's here?”

  “Pretty much. See, not as dumb as you look.”

  Bitch! “And not all covens have this rule?”

  “None of the others do, actually,” she said, lifting her arms and stretching – exposing a distracting amount of midriff in the process. “Every coven has its own rules and traditions. Within limitations, of course. For example,
there's this one group up in Cambridge that will only turn people who have their PhDs. Oh, and they have to be published in a journal at least once a decade, otherwise they get staked.”

  “Fucking MIT!” I muttered to myself. “Even their vampires are elitist fuckwads.”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing important. So, if one of Night Razor's ... sorry ... Jeff's rules is that everyone takes on a new identity, then why don't you have one? So far, all I've heard people call you is ‘Sally.’ That's downright pedestrian compared to Night GAYzor.”

  Sally chuckled for a moment at my joke. Hey, she got me killed, but that’s no reason to stop putting the moves on her. Then she said, “That is my coven name, or at least part of it.”

  “What’s the rest?”

  “It's stupid. Jeff gave it to me. It's lame, even by his standards.”

  “What is it? I promise not to laugh.”

  She paused as if debating giving me an answer, but finally replied, “Sunset. My name is Sally Sunset.”

  Okay, so I lied about the not laughing part. “You're right. That is stupid.”

  “Yeah, very funny. Thank you for your sympathy, Dr. Death.”

  “Point taken. But what about...”

  “Enough. You need to be taught how to feed, and I need to eat. I already told you I'm freaking starving. I'm surprised you're not. Most people are when they're first turned. I've even seen a few wake up as little more than feral animals until they got some blood in them.”

  “I ate some chicken before the party,” I replied, only realizing after the fact that it probably didn’t explain anything. “But I guess I could use a bite ... get it? A bite!”

  “Yeah, haven't heard that one before,” she said dryly. “Let's go.”

  “Are we going out?”

  “Don't be stupid. It's only four p.m. Sun's still out. We're not going outside unless you like the idea of being extra crispy. We're going down.”

  “FOUR P.M?! How hard did that asshole hit me?”

  “Pretty hard,” she admitted. “But that's not all of it. Once you were turned, your body's natural rhythm reversed itself. You're nocturnal now, so your body is going to want to rest during the day. Jeff's punch just kind of helped you get to sleep faster.”

  “I'll be sure to thank him. Hey, where is he and the rest of your merry group, anyway?” I asked, following her and enjoying the view.

  She opened the door and started walking down the stairs. “Not here, obviously. We have space in and under almost every building on this block. “

  “The rent must be a killer.”

  “One of the perks of eternal life is interest compounded annually,” she quipped. “Besides, it's probably a good thing Jeff isn't here. He didn't seem to like you much.”

  No shit, Sherlock, I thought. We reached the first floor and then continued downward.

  “You better hope he changes his mind or in three months you're gonna be toast.”

  That brought me to a screeching halt. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a second. What happens in three months?”

  “Your protection wears off,” she said matter-of-factly and kept descending.

  “What protection?”

  “James's. He put you under his personal protection. Nobody's allowed to mess with you, or they'll have to deal with him.”

  “Okay. That's a good thing, right?” I asked, trying to make sense of it.

  “Exactly. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this chat.”

  “So, what happens in three months?”

  “It ends.”

  “Why?”

  “That's our law. A vampire can put a newly turned vamp under his or her protection. It's meant as a way to ensure that the recently reborn have a fair chance and don't get preyed upon by others. Sadly, not all of our kind are as civilized as we are.” Considering Jeff wanted to gak me the second I woke up, I'd hate to see what she meant by that. “However, the protection only lasts for ninety days. Once that's done, you're on your own.”

  “But I'm part of the coven now,” I pointed out.

  “So was Todd, a.k.a. Rage Vector. Being one of us doesn't mean shit. If Jeff decides to stake you at that point, it'll be his business.”

  “How comforting to know I have an extra violent tumor that's going to kill me in three months,” I muttered, deducing we were probably down around sewer level.

  “Those are the breaks. We're vampires, not the Peace Corps. Ah, finally. Here we are. Time for you to make your first kill.” She motioned toward a large reinforced door blocking our path.

  “Kill?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she meant.

  “Don't start playing dumb now. Yes, kill.”

  “Can't we eat without, well, murdering someone?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why do I...”

  “Because it's something that you'll have to do at some point. There will be times when there's no bottled blood around and no farm animals to drink from.”

  “What about dogs, or maybe rats?”

  She sighed as if I were a complete moron. “Ever try sinking your teeth into the neck of an angry German Shepherd? They tend not to be overly accommodating. And rats ... eww! Fucking things are usually covered in fleas and shit. As for the killing part, there's the problem of turning your victims. That's a no-no. Problem is, it usually takes new vampires a couple of years before they get the hang of eating without also infecting their food. If you leave them alive and they turn, well, then you'd better either have an open spot in a coven for them, or stake them quickly.”

  “Or?”

  “Or it's your ass.”

  “So that means...”

  “You either drink them dry, or kill them when you're done.” She unlocked the door and held it open for me. “Dinner is served. Bon appétit.”

  I walked into a good-sized chamber, followed by Sally, who then closed the door behind us. Oddly enough, it looked like it more belonged in a hospital – an old one, at least – than a sewer. The place was well-lit and about the size of a living room. The floor sloped slightly downward to the center where there was a large French drain. The walls themselves were lined with what looked like several industrial-sized refrigerators. And that was about it ... oh, with maybe the exception of the large table off to one side on which a fat, naked dude was chained and gagged. Y'know, just in case that's one of those details you might tend to notice.

  Standing next to him was one of the babes from last night. Starlight, I believe. She looked me up and down as I entered. It might have been my imagination, but I sensed a bit of hesitation in her for a moment or two. However, when she finally spoke, there was no hint of it.

  “The doctor is in the house,” she said in a saucy little voice. “It's about time. Thought you were going to sleep all day.”

  “Sorry. I had a little issue with someone's fist in my face. Starlight, right?”

 

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