“Yeah. Alex gave us the rundown on the Grendel,” I replied, using his word for them.
“I haven’t heard that term used in a while. Alex, you said, correct?”
“Yeah, you know him, right?”
“I’m afraid not. Sadly, even with my current standing, I am not privy to all of the First Coven’s inner thoughts.”
That was surprising to learn. Considering James was in the running to join their merry little bunch, you’d think they might’ve been slightly less dickish toward him.
“Well, he seems like a nice enough guy,” I replied.
James nodded and said, “I’m sure he does. Nevertheless, I would highly recommend you keep your guard up around him at all times.”
“You don’t trust him?” Ed asked.
“As I said, I don’t know him. I neither have reason to trust nor distrust him. However, what I do know is that he would obviously be a person of significant diplomatic skill. Otherwise, the First would not have chosen him. Such an individual would excel at coming across as likable.”
“So you’re saying he probably has his own agenda,” Ed surmised.
“Undoubtedly. He follows the will of the First and their machinations remain their own.”
“But we’re all on the same side here, right?” I asked.
“You’re almost cute when you’re stupidly naïve, Bill,” Sally commented.
“Her thinly veiled insult aside, Sally is quite correct. While I believe the First want this peace conference to be successful, there are no doubt nuances at play that will make it more or less successful by standards of which only they are aware. Should all other factors align in their favor, don’t assume they wouldn’t consider your loss to be an acceptable outcome.”
Great! I so loved being cannon fodder. Nice to know that if the Bigfeet said they’d accept peace, but only if they all got to take turns sodomizing me, that the Draculas would be all gung-ho for that plan.
“I would highly recommend,” James continued, “that you all watch one another’s backs continually and assume that anything that is said to you is of dubious intent.”
“Not to be rude or anything, but why are you telling us this?” Tom asked. “I mean, aren’t you up for membership to this group of backbiters?”
James arched an eyebrow. I knew I should’ve made Tom wait in the car.
“Nice knowing you, jackass,” Sally whispered from the corner of her mouth.
However, rather than eviscerating Tom as a lesson to the rest of us – a deserved lesson, in all honesty – James instead shrugged and replied, “Fortunately for you all I haven’t ... what’s the phrase ... ah yes, drunken their Kool-Aid yet. Besides which, I have grown fond of Dr. Death here. Irrational of me, I know.”
“Cool,” I replied, trying to steer the conversation away from Tom, lest he say something stupid again. “It’s good to know you’ll have my back, too.”
James looked me in the eye and gave an apologetic glance. “Alas, that may be a problem.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Define problem,” I said in a calm tone, despite a sinking feeling starting to permeate my gut.
“Normally I wouldn’t discuss this with outsiders present,” James began. “However, since it is painfully obvious that you tell your friends everything that goes on in the vampire community, I see no reason to play mum.”
I gave him a sheepish grin back. I didn’t look at Sally, but had little doubt of the eye-roll she was probably making.
“As I have said, there are other candidates being given consideration for ascension to the First Coven.”
“I remember,” I interrupted. “That’s the reason why I’m conducting this crazy train. You can’t run the show and keep watch over your own backside at the same time, right?”
“Exactly. Unfortunately, it’s become even more complicated than that. I have since learned that my chief rival is a vampire named François. He and I have a bit of history with one another.”
“So what’s the deal with this guy?” asked Sally.
“The deal is: much like I currently hold jurisdiction over the covens of the Northeastern United States, François likewise holds a sizable area under his direct supervision. Shall I give you a hint as to where his power extends?”
There were knowing nods all around the room, except from Tom, who asked, “Okay, what’s the hint?”
Ed let out a heavy sigh. “Where are we going, stupid?”
“Canada,” Tom replied uncomprehendingly for a second before adding, “Oh, I get it now.”
“I highly doubt that,” Sally spat.
“It leaves me in a difficult position,” James said, ignoring the exchange. “François neither requests nor wishes for my involvement in this summit. Truth be told, there is little love lost between us. As someone who has had firsthand involvement with the Alma, by rights I can participate regardless of François’s wishes. However, I must be careful. One false move and the balance of power could tip in his direction. That would be bad.”
“For you?” Ed asked.
“For everyone.”
Tom said, “I don’t see the big deal. Bill’s told us about you. It doesn’t sound like you have much to worry about from some French surrender monkey.”
James once again raised an eyebrow. “Despite your somewhat unique way of putting it, you’re actually far more apt than you realize.”
“He is?” Ed and I blurted out in unison.
“Yes. You see, under different circumstances, there wouldn’t be much question regarding inclusion into the First Coven. Usually the oldest and strongest are picked. It’s tradition. François is by far the oldest of the hopefuls, besting even the Khan by a quarter century.”
“Then why isn’t he already one of them?” Ed asked.
“There are safeguards in place to deal with unusual circumstances. You,” he said, turning toward Tom, “mentioned the overused joke regarding the French and surrender. Well, François went much further than that. During World War Two, he was an active member of Hitler’s SS.”
“Whoa!”
“Indeed. He is a nasty character even amongst our kind. Supposedly, he bought into their rhetoric quite fully. Not only did he join, but he revealed himself to their upper ranks.”
“So he was punished?” Sally surmised.
“Not for that, no. He was too old to be reprimanded for such a thing. If that were all he did, this tale would have a much different ending. François didn’t stop there, though. Whether deluded or mad for power, he decided to aid their scientists’ efforts to create a master race. As such, he allowed them to experiment on vampire blood. Even for one of his age, such a crime is considered quite serious.”
I could feel pinpricks of sweat break out on my forehead. If they found out what Dave and I were up to ... oh boy.
“So what happened?” Ed asked.
“Near the end of the war, one of the First perished at Nagasaki. François was all set to ascend to the ranks of our leadership when his actions were brought to light.”
“And that’s when the Draculas brought the hammer down?”
“Exactly. François was too old and had too many supporters to be outright killed. However, he was passed over for membership, allowing my sire, the Khan, to ascend. As further punishment, he was removed from Europe and given his current post.”
“Makes sense,” said Ed. “How much trouble could he cause in the frozen tundra?”
A thought hit me. “Just out of curiosity, did the person who exposed François happen to be nicknamed the Wanderer?”
James smiled. “Very astute, Dr. Death. I will admit a little bias in seeing my sire ascend. It didn’t exactly hurt my standing amongst our kind.”
“Hold on,” Sally interrupted. “I’m not getting the politics at play here. If this François guy was punished, why is he up for consideration now?”
“It’s quite simple. He has survived and managed to stay out of trouble. For all intents and purposes, his sentence has
been served. Regardless, due to the severity of his crimes against our kind, the others are leery of automatically promoting him. Rather than judge by seniority alone, the remaining twelve have decided to pick the new member based on accomplishments. François has many, do not get me wrong, but he has to prove to the elders that he has learned his lesson. If he can do that, he may very well ascend to their ranks.”
“And this peace conference would be a major feather in his cap,” I said.
“Yes it would.”
“Is it just me,” Ed asked, “or does anyone else find it a bit suspicious that the Khan, the guy who bumped François, got killed and then suddenly a peace conference is happening in this dude’s backyard?”
“Without hard evidence,” James replied, his tone stern, “it would be considered highly insulting within the vampire community to insinuate such.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
“However,” James continued, “as you are not a member of the vampire community, you may insinuate as much as you please.”
“So that’s why you have to tread lightly,” stated Sally. “If you say anything, you look like you’re trying to set him up and then you’ll lose.”
“And a French neo-Nazi nutcase suddenly becomes one of the most powerful vampires on the planet,” Tom added. My God, he really did want to get us all killed.
“More or less, yes on both counts.”
I let out a sigh and replied, “So what you’re saying is I’m on my own ... as usual.”
“Hey, I’m going to be there, too,” Tom protested.
“Yep,” Sally said. “As usual, Bill, you’re on your own.”
Four-legged Vampire Slayer
It wasn’t all bad. Colin eventually returned with our lunch. Watching him set up a table for us went a long way toward making me feel better although, if I had to guess, I wouldn’t doubt my glass of blood also had a generous dollop of spittle in it. Oh, well, it was a small price to pay to watch that monkey dance.
James said he would be joining us up north, but he’d be arriving later than the other participants and staying mostly in the shadows. While I wasn’t too keen on putting my neck on the line just so he could get himself a big fat promotion, he had always been cool with me. There was also the fact that he had saved my ass a few times. I owed the dude and I was not one to welch on my bets. Well, okay, maybe I was, but not when the person in question could rip my head off and shove it up my ass with little to no effort.
We finished up, said our goodbyes, and resumed our road trip of the damned. Of course, once we were piled back in the car and everyone had a chance to collect their thoughts, Tom started in again.
“It probably all doesn’t matter anyway, since I’m going to turn into a fucking zombie.”
“You’re not going to turn into a zombie,” snapped Ed from behind the wheel.
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t get bitten by the disgusting undead. No offense, Bill.”
“None taken,” I replied from the back seat.
“It’s not like he chomped off your fingers, asshole,” Ed said, “You don’t even have any bite marks, so stop whining.”
“But I can feel it tingling.”
“Psychosomatic,” I replied.
“Am I the only one here who watches the movies?” he protested. “A zombie puts its teeth on you and you’re doomed. It’s only a matter of time before I start craving brains.”
“That would be a step up, if you ask me,” Sally commented from behind a copy of Cosmo.
“Sally, can you tell this idiot that he isn’t going to turn into a zombie?”
“Fine. You aren’t going to turn into a zombie, idiot.”
“There, see...” I started to say.
“Not that I would know,” she added.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked, wide-eyed.
I turned to her. “I thought you knew about zombies, Sally.”
“Yes. I know that a bunch of them work in Boston. So do you, congratulations.”
“Don’t you know how they got there?”
“Nope.”
“What about how they’re made?”
“Nada on that, too.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” she said, throwing him a look of bored contempt, “it never occurred to me to give a shit ... although now that you mention it, I still don’t.”
♦ ♦ ♦
The next few hours were long ones. As we drove north through Vermont, I plugged my 3G modem in and attempted to get a little work done on my laptop. Ed continued driving while Sally put on a pair of ear-buds and proceeded to tune us all out. As for Tom, he continued whining from the front seat, a continual stream of bullshit along the lines of, “I can feel myself starting to decay.” Forget the vampires in the backseat, considering how white Ed’s knuckles were turning around the steering wheel. I had a feeling he was beginning to contemplate reaching over and shoving Tom out of the moving car. After a while, I doubted I would have tried to stop him.
Thanks to our stopover in Boston and then some traffic, we didn’t near the border until after sundown. Sally indicated, though, that actually was perfect timing.
As we got in line for the border crossing, Ed asked, “So what exactly are we supposed to say once they ask to look in the trailer? That we’re traveling Exxon salesmen?”
“They’re not going to,” she replied blithely. “Pull into lane five.”
“Lane five is closed.”
“Not for us it isn’t. Pull in and flash the lights three times.”
Ed shot us a dubious look via the rearview mirror. No doubt, he was thinking we were all about to enjoy a nice long strip search at the Canadian border. Regardless, he did as told. He pulled into the closed lane, enduring a few annoyed beeps from the other cars in line. He flashed the high beams – which weren’t all that high in this clunker – and, sure enough, the light in the lane switched from red to green. That elicited a few more angry honks.
“Watch and learn,” Sally said, rolling down the back window.
We pulled into the booth and she leaned out. I could see by her profile that she had blackened her eyes and brought her fangs out. The border guard leaned over and spoke to her.
“Your coven?”
“Village from New York,” she replied.
“Purpose?”
“Business.”
“What business?”
“First Coven business. Do you really want to ask more?”
The guard’s eyes momentarily flashed black, revealing his undead nature, although whether out of shock or annoyance I wasn’t sure. He quickly composed himself, though, and looked toward the front seat, where Tom and Ed sat. He took a quick sniff of the air. “Technically you’re supposed to declare any food you bring across the border.”
“They’re just snacks for the road,” Sally replied.
“Speaking of which,” the guard turned his head toward the cars which had followed our lead into the lane, “it is almost dinner time. Carry on. May the First smile upon you.” He gave us a sort of salute and waved us through.
The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou) Page 67