“You’re losing me here.”
“I gotta side with Bill,” Ed added. “What are you talking about?”
“Magic, the multiverse, all of it!” An angry red glow momentarily appeared around her, causing the rest of us to back up a step. “It’s hard to explain in a hundred words or less, but suffice it to say you are all painfully aware that we’re not alone in this world.”
It wasn’t a question. We’d all seen the freakiest of the freaky. Hell, I’d gotten up close and personal with a death god, for fuck’s sake.
“Well, it’s not like those things are coming from down the street. There are cracks in reality everywhere ... spots where the barriers between worlds are so thin that you can sometimes accidentally step through them.”
“Like the Bermuda Triangle?” Tom asked.
“Something like that. Ley lines, places of power, vortexes; there are lots of names for them. And not all transgressions are accidental. There are beings who can sense these weak spots and cross over as they please, although it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, intrigued.
“Think about it.” She eased herself down into our love seat. For all her power, she was still bound by the physical laws of being a woman almost seven months pregnant. “For whatever reason, these cracks between worlds have been on the decline.”
“How do you know?” Ed asked.
“It’s common sense for anyone who’s ever had a history lesson,” she replied as if Ed were an idiot. “Look at our history as a species, even the sanitized stuff. Monsters, wizards, dragons; they appear in ancient texts to the point of being almost blasé about them. That’s because they were. Thousands of years ago, during the time of Kala the White...” She trailed off.
“Wait,” I said. “I’ve heard that before. Is that the White Mother?”
“One and the same,” she replied, a touch of defensiveness to her voice.
“What are you guys talking about?” Tom asked.
Judging from the confused looks of my two roommates, Christy hadn’t shared the revelations from a few days past, that the White Mother – venerated mentor of the Magi – had actually been a psycho bitch. I know I hadn’t. It was probably stupid at this late stage in the game to be keeping secrets, but I didn’t see any harm in this one.
We were already aware of the threat the Jahabich represented. Christy was also privy to the cave etchings we’d managed to snag some pictures of. That she was terrified of this knowledge somehow causing Sheila to snap and go on a wizard-hunting spree seemed to be a bit of a stretch for me. However, due to the overall uselessness of knowing a crazy woman, thousands of years dead, was responsible for their creation, I didn’t see the harm in keeping my mouth shut.
However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t throw her a lifeline when she needed one. “It’s just some ancient history crap. So your point?”
Her eyes flashed a quick look of gratitude my way. “Anyway, a long time ago, this was all commonplace. Humans, vampires, the forest folk, and many more beings of both light and darkness lived side by side. It wasn’t always in harmony – but there’s no denying there was familiarity. What we consider weird and strange today was mundane once upon a time.”
“So what happened?”
“Nobody knows. Maybe it was a calamity, natural progression, or intelligent design, but whatever the case, it’s all been on a slow decline. Old gods were forgotten, not necessarily because they wanted to be. What once was as easy as stepping around the corner eventually required effort. The ability to channel faith magic, vampires, and Magi being relegated to the world of myth and legend, all of it. It’s indicative of that same decline. Heck, assuming the world doesn’t get immolated first, one day the source might just finally dry up for good.”
“The source?”
“Magi myth. Kind of like the tree of life – a place where it all originates from.”
We all internalized this in silence, until Tom finally asked, “So what’s this have to do with anything?”
To my surprise, Christy actually laughed. “Nothing really, I guess. I just sometimes get caught up in things. I’m a dying breed, one of the few people left who actually knows the real history of the world.” Her tone hardened again. “Regardless, it still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve lost your connection to your well of faith. Without it, you’re vulnerable.”
“Technically, he’s always been.”
“You know what I mean,” Christy snapped. I quickly shut the fuck up. Perhaps Tom’s balls weren’t the only set currently taking up residence in her purse.
I half expected my subconscious to speak up and suggest I gut her, but even Dr. Death was apparently smart enough to know when to keep his trap shut.
“Well,” Ed began cautiously – probably not wanting to be verbally castrated too, “what about the rest of his stuff? I mean, no offense, man, but you can get pretty bent out of shape when we touch any of your shit.”
“Maybe that’s because you should keep your fucking hands off it,” Tom offered.
“It doesn’t work that way,” Christy replied. “You can’t force faith. It has to come naturally.”
“So what you’re saying is he doesn’t love the rest of his stuff like he loved Prime.”
“Apparently not,” she replied.
Tom just shrugged at this revelation. “Still doesn’t mean you assholes should be touching any of it.”
* * *
We spent some time trying to dissect the root of whatever had caused Tom’s initial obsession to take hold, in an attempt to see if it could be replicated. Sure, Optimus had been a pretty good collector’s item, but he had one or two pieces that were worth more. No matter the case, that was a great big nada. I could touch them, play with them, or pose them in obscene positions without so much as a spark.
Even Christy had to conclude that it made no sense, finally admitting that perhaps it was “the mystery of faith.”
Sadly, that wasn’t a particularly helpful answer. At the same time, it did give me an opening for something I had been wanting to suggest but, up until now, hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to do.
I turned to Tom. “Maybe you should stay here.”
“What?” he asked.
“Exactly what I said. Stay here, guard the home front, hold down the fort.” I tried to make it sound more important than it probably was.
“No fucking way, dude.”
“Hear him out,” Ed said.
“Ganging up on me?”
“No,” Ed replied. “I’m not siding with anyone. But Bill has a point. Even Christy said you’re vulnerable. She’s right. Of all of us...”
“Don’t even go there,” Tom said, pointing a finger. “Or do you want to compare the number of scars we’ve both racked up over the past year?”
He was right on that one, but it was a weak argument. “Yes, Ed’s gotten his ass kicked more than you...”
“Hey!”
“It’s true. You’d either be dead or sucking blood clots if Sheila hadn’t stepped in.”
Tom opened his mouth, a look of triumph on his face, but I cut him off before he could say anything. “But he’s not. He’s also got his shotgun and...”
“And a full box of silver slugs,” Ed added, a slight note of threat to his voice. Some people just couldn’t handle criticism well.
“Yes, that. But, as I was going to say, you also have your blood.”
“Oh, that’s a great fucking defense,” Tom cried. “If he gets his arms ripped off, he can at least take out any vamps standing around! Not bad, for a kamikaze pilot maybe.”
“Yes, I admit that’s a poor offensive tactic, but it does give him a measure of protection against anyone in the know. Also, the Jahabich want Ed for whatever crazy reason they might have. As much as I’d love to leave both your asses on the sidelines, there’s a chance that the second the rest of us turn our backs, those fucking things could burrow up beneath this place.�
�
I walked up and put a hand on Tom’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “Sorry to say it, man, but the supernatural world isn’t after your ass in any capacity other than as a snack. There’s no reason for you to do this.”
Christy had been silent up until now. I knew she was weighing the options. Bringing him along was dangerous. Leaving him, though, meant hoping he was all right, but being unable to do much if he wasn’t. Regardless, she knew his odds were much better staying put. “Listen, honey. Bill’s right. I don’t...”
“Not happening,” he replied, cutting her off. “There’s no way I’m letting you go without me.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know that, but what happens if you can’t?” He stepped up, put his arms around her, and drew her in. “I can’t let anything happen to you or little Legolas.”
“Legolas?!” She tried to pull back, but he pulled her in tighter.
“Or Loki,” he amended quickly. “I won’t let anything out there hurt you. I ... well ... you know.”
“Love her?” Ed offered.
“I was getting to that!” Tom snapped.
“We know that,” I said, trying to pull him out of the hole he was digging – mainly by jumping into it myself. “And that’s why I think you should both stay behind.”
THE BITCHING HOUR
There was no doubt I’d just ruined whatever tender moment Tom had been going for in his attempt to persuade Christy to let him come along.
She pulled out of his grasp and rounded on me, her eyes sparking briefly with power. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. Both of you should stay behind.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Ed asked. “For once, Bill is making sense.”
“You know what’s at stake here,” she continued as she took a step toward me. I considered turning tail and going to see what my gaming group was up to.
“We all know what’s at stake here,” Ed said.
“No you don’t,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“Listen, you know what we’re walking into,” I said at last, steeling myself for this battle. It might not be as physically painful as facing Vehron, but that didn’t mean it would be any more pleasant. “Sheila, Sally, me ... we’re at the top of our game, physically at least.”
I held up a hand in Tom’s direction, before he could even open his mouth. Knowing a fucker since Kindergarten had its advantages.
“Hell, even that batch of dorks downstairs are on par with the strongest weightlifters in the world.”
“I can...”
“Yes, I know. You can take care of yourself. We all know that, but let’s be realistic here. You’re not at your peak. Sure, you’re holding up better than most. When my Aunt Annie was as pregnant as you, she could barely waddle to the fridge.”
Christy’s eyes narrowed. That might not have been the best tangent to veer off on.
“Even you have to admit you get tired faster than you used to. You don’t have as much stamina, physically or even magically, I’d bet.”
Her lip trembled. I was venturing into some potentially bad territory here.
“You’re also not just putting your own life at risk going up there with us.”
There it was – the one fact that couldn’t be disputed. Now to only hope it stuck.
The funny thing was, a small part of me didn’t want it to. Christy was smart and powerful. Losing her would be a massive blow to both our resources and my fragile confidence in our success. Even so, the woman was only a few short months away from popping. All it would take was one swipe from an enemy’s claws or a punch to the midsection to end it. I could live with a lot of stuff ... including whatever shit I might have to do to get through this mess, but I wasn’t sure I could live with that.
“And what happens if you fail?” she asked.
“What happens if we don’t?”
“We were all sentenced by the First Coven to carry this out.”
“You’re a mage, not a vampire. They have no ground to stand on politically if it comes down to it.”
“Politics? You’re saying I should rely on politics?”
“It’s better than any excuse I have.”
“That didn’t help me during the trial. You saw the Grand Mentor, how he poisoned them against me. How he somehow even got to my coven.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Then where are they?”
“Well, have you tried reaching out to them?”
She was silent for a moment. “What’s the use? Who knows how much damage he’s done or is still doing?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not doing much anymore.” Oh crap, did I say that out loud?
For a moment, I thought I might be off the hook, but then Ed, of all people, had to ask, “What do you mean by that?”
“Um...”
“Seriously. How do you know what he is or isn’t doing? As far as I knew, we’d never met Gandalf before the trial.”
I tried to think of something to say. Maybe that I’d spied on him using Harry Decker’s skull ... no, that was probably an even worse thing to mention in front of Christy. Some days, I so wished I was a better liar.
“What is it?” Christy asked at last.
Fuck. “Gan,” I admitted.
“What about her?”
I tensed up, expecting to be blown through the floor or something. “She may have ... intervened.”
“You mean she fucked up his shit?” Tom asked a bit too brightly. Maybe that hole in the floor was gonna be big enough for two people. “Way to go for the little hellion.”
“Is that what happened?” Christy asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Not quite in those words, but yes. Gan made sure the Mentor never left that building.”
“And you asked her to do this?”
“Me? No. The asshole might’ve fucked us all over, but I never asked her to kill him. Hell, if anything, I wouldn’t have minded having him around while the Jahabich were busy using me as a punching bag. Believe me, the little nutbag acted on her own accord.” I paused for a moment, as this next part was gonna be the tricky one. “She told me that the witch who’d escaped caused her people great shame and it needed to be rectified.”
Her eyes opened wide at that. “My sister?”
“Uh, yeah, the same one who ratted us out.”
“But the Mentor didn’t...”
“Gan said she didn’t like witnesses. Too much paperwork to deal with for her liking.” And there it was, yet another dirty secret out in the open courtesy of yours truly’s big fucking mouth.
For a second there, silence reigned supreme in our living room. Hell, even Tom took a step back. I mean, Christy wasn’t shitting us with her use of sister – or at least in a sense of the word. She’d been more or less raised by Decker as a part of his coven. He’d been a second father to her, so it probably wasn’t a stretch to imagine she’d had a strong bond with the rest, at least before she’d been assigned to seduce Tom as way of keeping tabs on me, only to end up falling in love with the doofus.
“Good.”
“What?” my roommates and I spat nearly simultaneously.
“I said good,” Christy repeated.
“But...” I began.
“I mourned for my sisters and mentor when I first heard they’d fallen.” For a moment, I could sense the pain behind Christy’s eyes, but then they hardened. “That’s over and done with, though. I won’t mourn anymore. As for the Grand Mentor, I hope the little bitch took her time and made it hurt.”
* * *
Tom, Ed, and I exchanged glances. They each conveyed the same thing: whoa, this chick was ice cold. I’d never known Christy to be so casual about anything like this. Compared to the rest of us, she was usually our group’s resident hippie chick.
“Don’t be so surprised,” she said at last, her voice devoid of emotion. “My sisters chose their path, and I chose mine.” She gl
anced at Tom, and her gaze softened. “Theirs led to ruin. Mine ... well, that’s still to be determined. The Grand Mentor, though, can rot. He could have convened a conclave, tried me by the laws of our people, and let me say my piece in my defense, but he threw me to the wolves instead.” After a moment she added, “No offense, Bill.”
“None taken. Werewolves don’t exist anyway.”
“At least not in the classical sense,” she replied.
Really? Sadly, we didn’t have time for that. “Fine, but that means the Dracs have lost their hold over you. You’re free.”
“None of us are free, Bill. I know you and Sally gave me that little speech about fate, but I’m not sure I’m quite ready to buy that.”
“What speech?” Ed asked.
She ignored him. “This is my path to walk. I need to see this through. But now that I know the Mentor’s dead and not out there spreading his bile against me, maybe I don’t need to walk it alone...”
“You’re not alone. We’re with you,” I said.
“Maybe I can repair some of the damage.” She was quite obviously talking to herself, going down some mental corridor where we weren’t invited. That wasn’t good. From the sound of her voice, I’d made exactly zero progress in my argument.
It was time to take a stand.
I steeled my voice, imagining myself as the tough guy in the room. For all intents and purposes, I was the leader of this ragtag group. It was time to act it. “I’m serious about what I said. I don’t want either of you coming along. That’s final.”
Christy turned toward me, almost as if noticing me for the first time. “Final, eh?” she asked with a hint of amusement. “And how do you plan to enforce that?”
“I’m a vampire, the scourge of the night.”
“You can’t even decide which woman you want to be with.”
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Ed asked, suddenly showing a lot more interest in the conversation than at any time in the past ten minutes.
“Ixnay,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “We’re talking about keeping you safe. Don’t change the subject.”
The Tome of Bill (Book 7): The Wicked Dead Page 8