“Yeah, I can barely ask my tenants for a year over year rent increase. I’m not quite up to negotiating wholesale murder on behalf of an entire species.”
“But I think we know who did,” she continued, “and it’s part of why we wanted to meet, aside from letting you know we’re here as allies.”
Falcon actually laughed at her words. “Sorry, luv. Not trying to make fun of this. It’s just that back before all this happened, mages and vamps occasionally worked together, but nobody fooled themselves into thinking we were allies. We find ourselves in interesting times, indeed.”
I couldn’t help but agree, although I kept my mouth shut. Spud save or not, I wasn’t about to hand this Falcon guy more of my trust than was warranted.
“Please go on and pardon the interruption.”
Christy thanked him, then continued. “I assume you’re aware of the circumstances under which magic returned.”
Falcon again grinned. His debonair demeanor was really starting to get under my skin. “While I may not have been present for the opening ceremonies, word has reached me that a certain charming sorceress within arm’s reach had a hand in it.”
“Okay, enough with the bullshit flirting,” I snapped, losing my temper. “You know full well that Gansetseg was behind everything. She recruited a bunch of mages to fuck over the ones who were already busy trying to fuck over the world. The question being, did you have your dick in that first group’s apple pie or the second’s?”
Silence descended upon the alleyway as I realized I may have gone a tiny bit overboard. Both Christy and Falcon were staring at me – him wide eyed, her looking a wee bit angry.
Yeah, I almost certainly could’ve handled that more diplomatically.
“He’s not...”
“Gansetseg?” Falcon asked, interrupting her. “You mean the former Prefect of the Gansu province in China? Adopted daughter of...”
“I know who she is. You don’t have to recite her LinkedIn profile.”
“You’re suggesting she was behind all of this and you think I...”
“What Bill is trying to say,” Christy cut in, putting a not so kind emphasis on my name. Oh boy. In the beer pong of relationships, I had a feeling I’d just sent the ball rolling beneath the couch. “...is that she and a handful of elder vampires survived the purge. In the last five years, she’s managed to manipulate events to not only facilitate the Source’s reopening, but at a scale none of us would have previously thought possible.”
That about summed it up. Gotta hand it to Gan. She didn’t think small.
“Others?”
“At the time,” she replied. “None of them survived her plans. In fact, it would seem she used them as nothing more than sacrificial pawns.”
“We’re talking Emperor Palpatine level shit here,” I added.
“What she was able to accomplish,” Christy continued, making it a point to ignore me, “was far greater than anything my incantation was capable of, leading me to believe she somehow had access to resources far above and beyond what she should have.”
“Excuse me for reading between the lines, but you think she may have gained access to the Falcon Archives? That’s a serious accusation.”
Christy nodded. “And one I don’t come by lightly, Mentor Falcon.”
I couldn’t help but notice the use of his formal title again. It was all I could do to keep from screaming, “In your face!” at him. Petty of me, but a win was a win. Now to hope he broke down and confessed. If so, we could call it a night – after beating the shit out of him until he told us where Ed was being held.
Ah, if only life could be so easy.
If Falcon was either insulted or preparing to throw himself to his knees and beg for mercy, he didn’t show it. “It’s fairly well known that the vampire nation kept their own extensive archives. Archives that, if the rumors are to be believed, rival my family’s.”
That much was true. I used to hear the vamps in charge gloat about it all the time. Colin, in particular, late unlamented douche that he was, seemed to take great pleasure that he had a library card, whereas I didn’t rate one.
“So I’ve heard,” Christy said. “The problem is, we don’t know enough to even make a guess as to whether they’d have contained anything remotely like the level of arcane knowledge Gansetseg would’ve needed.”
She glanced my way for a moment, as if checking whether I had anything better to offer, to which I simply shook my head.
“You’re not incorrect,” Falcon replied, sounding far less put out than I was hoping he’d be. “Those old vamps were as secretive as they were pragmatic.”
Indeed they were, even amongst their own number.
Once again, my subconscious seemed to have an opinion on something, although this time I couldn’t really argue. I mean, shit, when it came to secrets, the CIA and KGB could’ve both taken lessons from the First Coven.
“But that bit of speculation does bring us back to point one,” Falcon continued, looking far more thoughtful than insulted. “We don’t know what kind of information the vamps deemed of importance, but we know our own endeavors. If the knowledge to do such a thing exists anywhere in this world, it would almost certainly be within the Falcon Archives.”
It truly was amazing that this guy was somehow able to speak without choking to death on his own smugness.
“Tell you what,” he said, “it couldn’t hurt to ask. I’m not aware of any dealings with this Gansetseg, but that doesn’t mean it can be ruled out. Gaining access to the archives is considered a sacred honor among our people, one not handed out lightly. All the same, it must be acknowledged that the last five years have been ... difficult for our kind. But then to be approached with the proverbial golden goose – the restoration of magic? One can easily imagine even the most stalwart defenders of our ways being hard pressed to turn down such an opportunity. Truth be told, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have considered it myself.”
♦ ♦ ♦
It was neither the confession I’d hoped for, nor did it bring us any closer to finding Ed, but, in the end, Falcon offered to do some digging for us. That seemed to satisfy Christy, although I’d be lying if I said it didn’t leave a bad taste in my mouth. Call me paranoid, but I got the sense that Falcon was withholding information.
Had I been older, I’d have maybe been able to use my senses as a sort of lie detector. But if that were the case, I could’ve simply punted those proto-leprechauns all the way into the Hudson and not have to be saved by Mr. Potato Head’s mustache attachment.
Either way, our business was concluded for now – outside of maybe some more pointless sniping on my part. As such, we took our leave of the illustrious Mentos Falcon or whatever he wanted to call himself.
Christy stepped close to me and, without saying a word, zapped us back to her bedroom – although I had a feeling no invitation for a sleepover was forthcoming, especially once she laid into me.
“You can’t just accuse a wizard of his standing like you did.”
I was tempted to argue that yes, I could and would if I felt the need to, even if it ended with me dodging fireballs. However, I could understand her being a bit upset. The guy had saved us, only for me to kind of lose my shit on him. Diplomacy thy name is not Bill Ryder.
“And flirting? Really?”
“What? He was obviously hitting on you.”
“No, he wasn’t. And even if he was,” she snapped, “don’t you think we have more important issues to deal with?” Sadly, it was a rhetorical question, as she kept on going. “Matthias was right about those creatures we fought. They’re old. Even when we were fighting them, I could sense that.”
I saw we were back to Matthias again, but in the interest of not being yelled at more than I already was, I kept my mouth shut on the subject. “Okay, and?”
“So why are they back now and, more importantly, why are they here?”
“Because nobody celebrates Saint Patrick’s Day quite like New Yorkers?” Her eyes
instantly flashed red, causing me to back up a step. “Sorry!”
“You need to stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“What you’re doing. You’re falling back into the same habits from five years ago. You don’t act, you react, and that includes the things you say. You’re supposed to be an adult. This is serious business, not a joke.”
I held up my hands in a placating manner. “I do take this seriously, believe me.” Then, before I could do something smart, like try to make this better, I added, “But come on. We fought Neolithic leprechauns tonight. Even you’ve gotta admit that’s pretty fucking ridiculous.”
“We could have died.”
“But we didn’t.” Hey, at least I didn’t bring up the fact that I was technically already dead.
“You don’t get it.” She took a step forward, power crackling around her. Oh yeah, I’d gone and put my foot in my mouth. “We can’t afford to...”
She was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open.
A moment later, a freaky-ass dog thing came clumsily lurching through it.
“Bark bark bark... Oh, it’s you Freewill. You’re back.” Glen stared at us, the two mismatched eyes bugging out of his head doing nothing to improve my mood. “I thought it might be an intruder. I was coming in here to frighten them off.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that would’ve terrified them.”
“Thank you. I’ve been working on my ferocious growl. Want to hear it?”
“Maybe later, Glen.”
“Is Tina okay?” Christy asked, thankfully distracted from laying into me more.
“She’s perfectly fine. Fast asleep as a matter of fact. We had a really fun evening.”
I raised an eyebrow as I realized his fur was damp in some spots, whereas newly bare patches of skin shone at various points along his rump and torso. Taking a quick whiff, my eyes began to water from the overpowering floral scent coming off him, mixed with an underlayer of death. “Is there a reason you smell like you stepped on a lavender scented land mine?”
Glen turned toward Christy. “My apologies, Madam Witch, but you are currently all out of body wash. Also, the hair trap in your tub might be a bit clogged.”
“I’m assuming Cat gave you a bath,” I said dryly.
“Six, as a matter of fact. It was great fun.”
Christy let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to go check on...”
“No worries. We’ll let ourselves out.”
♦ ♦ ♦
On the short drive back home, I pointedly ignored Glen’s repeated requests to roll down the window so he could hang his head out. Fucking method actors. The hell with that. His so-called disguise was even worse now, and I had no interest in horrifying the shit out of any late night pedestrians we passed on the way.
Besides, I had more important matters on my mind, and some of them didn’t even have to do with the fact that Christy was obviously pissed at me.
The old treaties were back. That couldn’t be good.
Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t care to end up arrested or in some government lab being dissected. But, at the same time, how long would it be before things got out of hand now that the cops’ hands were tied?
In the past, the coven system had kept things in check. Now I was alone, the sole vamp trying to rein things in. Well, okay, maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought, especially not if Falcon was to be believed.
Someone else was out there hunting vamps. But who? And were they friend or enemy? I had a feeling it was only a matter of time before I found out. And knowing my luck, the answer wouldn’t be in my favor.
♦ ♦ ♦
We got back home, where I tossed my keys onto the end table and Glen sloughed off his dog suit like it was a pair of rotting shoes.
“That is never going to stop being disgusting.”
“Maybe a new collar will help,” he offered.
“I sincerely doubt it.”
“Oh, and I heard there’s a good dog groomer down on Sixth.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Who’s pushing what?”
I turned to see Tom stepping out of the bathroom, wearing a t-shirt and boxers – a not atypical thing for him to wear at night, although a part of me couldn’t help but note he now wore it infinitely better than in the past.
Gah! Talk about needing brain bleach.
“Where’d you disappear to today?” I asked.
“I had shit to take care of. What are you guys up to?”
“I had the privilege of babysitting your daughter,” Glen said.
“Cool. How’d that go?”
“She is a most wonderful child. And she gives such lovely baths.”
Tom raised a quizzical eyebrow, then glanced once at the lifeless dog suit sitting on the floor and shrugged. “How about you, Bill? Anything good going on in Freewill World?”
“I was with Christy most of the night.”
That got me an instant stink-eye. “When I said good, I meant...”
“Relax. We were working. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s mad at me.”
That seemed to cheer him up, much to my displeasure. “Oh?”
“We met up with that Falcon guy, and I might have said some stuff about...”
“You talked back, didn’t you?”
It was a bit more complicated than that, but still... “Yeah, I might’ve.”
He shook his head, then paused to brush some hair out of his face. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, being that I’m totally working against you two as a couple, but I’m your friend and bros before hoes is a sacred covenant. Anyway, I learned this lesson the hard way, many many times, and now you need to learn it. When Christy gets in a mood, you don’t talk back. Don’t even apologize. Just avoid eye contact and nod.”
“Avoid eye contact? She’s not a mountain gorilla.”
“No. She’s a witch. A gorilla will only tear your arms off. A witch will fucking turn you inside out then set fire to whatever’s still twitching. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christy, but even with Icon powers I’m not stupid enough to get on her bad side.”
“Women are strange.”
“Yes, we are,” he said with absolutely no sense of irony.
“Speaking of Icon powers, is that what you were off working on tonight?” I stepped past him into our kitchen nook, where I opened the fridge and pulled out both a beer and a pint of pig blood.
“Nah. I had other shit going on. Hey, grab me one, too,” he said, holding his stomach. “And if you ask which, I’m gonna kick you in the nuts.”
I grabbed an extra beer for him. “You okay?”
“I feel better than you look.” When I stopped to glare at him, he added, “Relax, I’m fine. Think I just got a bad burrito. My guts feel like someone wrapped a vise grip around them.”
The three of us walked – well, okay, Glen slithered – over to the couch. “Just for the record, I think I’ll take food poisoning over Neanderthal leprechauns.”
“You’re shitting me,” Tom said.
“Please tell me the witch was able to capture video of you dispatching them.”
“Not this time, Glen,” I replied. “Next one, I promise ... just so long as I remember to bring some potatoes with me.”
“Potatoes?”
“Long story. And no, before you say anything, there was no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow, unless you count the color of their teeth. And trust me, I wasn’t getting close enough to see if they were real.”
“Oh shit,” Tom said, standing up again. “Thanks for the reminder. I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
Rather than answer me, he walked back into his bedroom. Okay, whatever.
“Up for some TV, Glen?”
“Sure thing, Freewill. I think there’s new episodes of Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix. I love that show.”
I glanced at him. “You would.”
“Here you go,” Tom sai
d, returning with a pocketbook in hand. I gave it a raised eyebrow to which he replied, “What? It’s still a shit-ton cooler than a fanny pack.”
“Can’t disagree.”
“Anyway, here’s my share of the rent.” He pulled out a stack of bills and placed them on the coffee table in front of me. “And next month’s as well.”
“You do realize I own the building, right? And, considering you were dead, I’m cool cutting you a break.”
“I know, but dead ain’t the same as being a deadbeat. Although, if you’re waiting for five years back rent, you can go fuck yourself.”
Screw it. I wasn’t going to argue with free money. “Finally bit the bullet and asked Christy for...”
“Fuck no. Remember that thing I said I was working on? Well, it paid off big time.”
“You discovered the power of prostitution?”
He flipped me the finger. “If I did, I can guarantee my price for you would forever be one dollar more than you’re worth.”
“I’d be remiss in pointing out...”
“That you’ve already sampled the wares? Trust me, dude. I’m well aware. It’s why I make it a point to triple wash my vag every time I shower.”
“Thanks for the visual.”
“Just don’t jack off to my memory.”
“You’ve pretty much guaranteed that’ll never happen. So, anyway, the money...”
“It’s simplicity itself.” He flashed me a smug grin. “I’m stuck in this body, so I figured I’d make it official.”
“Make what official?”
“I managed to get copies of both my social security card and driver’s license.”
“Your driver’s license, but...?”
“By mine, I mean Sheila’s. And yesterday I hit fucking pay dirt.” He reached into his pocketbook and pulled out an ATM card. “I finally got access to her checking account. Or should I say, my new checking account?”
IT’S ALL RELATIVE
“Isn’t it brilliant?”
“No, it’s not brilliant,” I replied. “It’s a fucking federal crime.”
“How so?”
“You’re not her.”
Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors Page 11