Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors

by Gualtieri, Rick

  “You mean I caused.”

  She smiled. “Your heart was in the right place.”

  No, it really hadn’t been, but I didn’t see any reason to contradict her. If anything, she seemed pleased that I’d dropped the jealousy act. Why rock the boat? Either way, peace had been restored, even if the end result hadn’t been any increase in our alone time together.

  Yeah, that kind of sucked. But, much as I wanted to work on our relationship, I had to admit there were bigger fish to fry, at least for the moment.

  “Any word on the stuff we asked him to look up?”

  She shook her head.

  Figured. We’d pretty much been responsible for turning his home into a shithole. So, I could see why we might not be at the top of his priority list. Still, hopefully he realized that helping solve our problems could potentially help with some of his own, at least regarding the weirdness in the city.”

  “Guess we’re back to square one then,” Sally remarked. “Knowing shit because Jack packed his bags and left town.”

  “Not entirely.”

  I glanced Christy’s way from my spot on the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture left in the apartment. “Oh?”

  “I haven’t made much progress on this so-called great beast. Not surprisingly, it seems to be a fairly common nickname amongst ancient deities, and those are just the known pantheons. The name pops up numerous times across multiple different mythologies.”

  “Can’t say I blame them. It’s pretty badass.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But in terms of gods and demigods, it seems to be the equivalent of Robert or John.”

  “Or James?” I asked idly, not entirely sure why.

  “I suppose. And that’s not even considering other powerful entities, like elementals or dragons.”

  “Not sure I could handle going up against Bob the dragon,” Sally replied.

  “As I said, I’m still digging. However, I did have a bit of luck with another problem of ours.”

  “Which one?”

  “Werewolves,” Christy explained. “Lycanthropes, Hominus Lupinus, or however you want to call them. Much like great beast, they show up in myths and legends across multiple cultures.”

  “Nothing we already didn’t know,” I said, glancing Sally’s way.

  “Sometimes people see monsters,” she replied with an eye-roll, “and sometimes they get high as balls and think they see monsters.”

  I raised an eyebrow, as that was disturbingly close to what I’d experienced while neck deep in the Hudson. Still, there was probably no point in running this discussion any further off the rails by bringing it up.

  “True,” Christy replied. “But it’s interesting, nevertheless. Vampires and mages, for example, are fairly consistent in mythology. But tales of lupine shapeshifters, like the beast of Gévaudan, tend to be localized and short-lived. There’d be a spate of sightings over a relatively short span, but they all end just as quickly as they began. Over and over again, the pattern repeats across multiple cultures and myths, even up to recent urban legends like the beast of Bray Road.”

  I raised my arms and stretched. “That lines up pretty well with the old theory of people getting fucked up on wood alcohol, and then causing a panic until the local townsfolk threatened to kick their asses.”

  Christy nodded. “Which is consistent with what most of us have been led to believe.”

  “What do you mean led?”

  “What if there’s more to it than that? What if the reason these sightings all seemed to stop suddenly was because someone, or multiple someones, were working behind the scenes to put an end to them quickly and quietly?”

  “So ... secret werewolf police?”

  “I know how it sounds and, truth be told, I don’t have anything to back it up.”

  “Too bad. That actually sounded kinda cool...”

  “Except,” Christy interrupted, “I did find one thing that might be important.”

  “Do tell us, Madam Witch,” Glen bubbled before adding a quick, “Meow.”

  “You’re here with us,” I said. “No need to keep up the charade.”

  “Just getting in some practice, Freewill.”

  I was tempted to tell him to keep practicing. Maybe he’d get it right in another hundred years or so. But instead I turned my attention back to Christy. “Lay it on us.”

  “It’s a short reference and a very old one at that. There’s also a chance I might be translating it wrong. Enochian has gone through a few revisions over the centuries.”

  “How old are we talking?” Sally asked.

  Christy grimaced. “Old. From roughly the same period when the ... White Mother is said to have ascended to the heavens.”

  “Pretty sure it wasn’t actually heaven.”

  She threw me a pained smile. “Ditto. Anyway, I found a reference in an old scroll from that time. It’s amazing I even noticed it. Nothing more than dumb luck really.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Keep in mind, this could be nothing more than a metaphor, but roughly translated it reads: wherever Utu’s shadow caressed the land, the wolves of men besieged the kingdom of Ib, seeking to lay them low.”

  “Wolves of men?” I repeated. “I suppose that could mean werewolves. Either that or there was a chihuahua uprising at some point.”

  “The kingdom of Ib?” Glen bubbled.

  “Yes,” Christy replied. “Again, assuming I translated it right. But it seems to suggest that in the early days of Ib’s reign, there were rivals competing with vampires for supremacy.”

  “Yeah,” Sally said. “They were called the Feet.”

  “I don’t think so. The scroll specifically made mention of them as the Children of the Mountain, naming their domain as the forests and valleys. Why distinguish between the two if they meant the same thing?”

  I shrugged. “Because ancient people were stupid?”

  “Back up a second,” Sally said. “You said this was a scroll dating back to the time of Ib? And you just happened to have it lying around in your personal library?”

  She had a good point. I raised an eyebrow Christy’s way. “Quite the eclectic collection you’ve got.”

  She grinned sheepishly. “I ... may have augmented my search a bit with ... the Falcon Archives.”

  I leaned forward, crossing my arms. “These wouldn’t happen to be the same Falcon Archives you were declined access to, would they? And did Mr. Falcon suddenly change his mind?” Christy’s silence on the matter was telling. “Uh huh, I see. So what happened to being disappointed with me for circumventing the so-called trust of the Magi?”

  Her grin turned into a smile. “I thought about it for a bit, then realized I’d be remiss in helping my friends if I simply ignored the resources at hand.”

  “So, you pretty much said fuck it.”

  “More or less.”

  Sally clapped her hands and let out a laugh. “Look at you going all rebel witch. I love it.”

  Christy sat down next to me, snuggling into my arm. “Are you mad at me?”

  I feigned annoyance ... for about two seconds anyway. “That depends. Am I going to get another lecture on what a bad vampire I am?”

  “I guess you could say I’ve had a change of heart.”

  I leaned in and put my arm around her. “Then I think I can overlook you turning to the dark side.”

  She returned the motion and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

  “Get a room, you two.”

  I shot Sally a quick look, then turned back to Christy. “Technically, she’s right. I mean, there is a room right over there, just a few feet away ... and Tom won’t be back for a little...”

  Almost like magic, we heard the front door of Christy’s apartment open and him call out, “We’re back.”

  “Of course he is.”

  Sally let out another bark of laughter as Christy and I scooted away from each other, lest we not hear the end of it. “Cock-blocked by the Icon. Someone oughta make
that into a book.”

  The door between the apartments was still wide open – so of course Tina’s voice came floating through a moment later.

  “Daddy, what’s cock-blocked mean?”

  “I’ll explain it to you later, Cheetara. Why don’t you go play in your room?”

  “Okay.”

  Tom stepped in a few seconds later.

  “No, you will not explain it,” Christy said almost immediately.

  “What was I cockblocking?” He glared at me. “And it had better not be...”

  “Relax, it wasn’t,” I replied, getting up. “She was just explaining to us how she gave Falcon the proverbial middle finger by accessing his precious archive.”

  “Really?” he asked. “Way to go, babe! Sticking it to the man.”

  “It’s not quite like that,” she replied, likewise rising.

  “Hey, don’t go downplaying this,” I said. “You learned something about those werewolves. That’s more than we had before.”

  “It’s still not much. Nothing that can really help us. But, I did have one bit of actual good news I was saving for last. And, since everyone’s here now...”

  “Does it have to do with neutering those crazy ass-sniffers?”

  “No,” she told Tom. “This is about Ed.”

  “You figured out how to neuter Ed?”

  Tempting as it was to reply, I chose to ignore him. “Do you know where he...?”

  Christy held up a hand. “Not yet. Let me just preface what I’m about to say with that. But, I may have figured out a way to find him.”

  “How?”

  “Every location spell I’ve tried has failed,” she explained. “That means wherever he is, it’s warded against detection.”

  I nodded. This was nothing we hadn’t figured out already.

  “But deep in the archives, I found mention of an old blood magic ritual, one I’d never heard of before. Apparently, it was created by a long dead splinter sect, one accused of heresy against...”

  “Let me guess. The White Mother?”

  She nodded.

  “I like these guys already.”

  “Can’t say I disagree. Anyway, it’s long, involved, and requires a lot of power. But if done correctly, we should be able to momentarily punch through even the strongest wards to get a sense of where he is.”

  “And once we know where his skinny ass is...” Tom said.

  “We can rescue him,” Sally finished.

  “And that’s a good thing, right?”

  “Yes, Glen,” I said. “That’s a very good thing.”

  “Then let’s do this! Meow!”

  “It’s not that easy,” Christy explained. “There’s components to gather, an incantation to translate and then re-translate to make sure I have it correct. And I’m going to need help.”

  “We’ll help you,” I replied, before realizing my stupidity. “You mean Magi help, right?”

  “Yes. And even then, there’s no guarantee. But if we can pull this off...”

  Christy let the statement hang in the air, but that was okay. I could see a sense of renewed purpose both in her eyes and those of my friends. After weeks of spinning our wheels, we’d finally gotten a break.

  Left unspoken was that, in addition to finding our friend, we could potentially find Gan, too – find her, force some answers from her, and hopefully put an end to whatever insane scheme she’d unleashed upon this world. It might not fix everything, but it would certainly be a step in the right direction.

  All of them, even Sally, looked toward me – almost as if waiting to see what I’d say on the matter. Hah! As if I’d stand in the way of any effort to rescue one of our own.

  “What Glen said. Let’s do this!”

  “Don’t forget the meow, Freewill.”

  “Um, sure. Whatever.”

  I had no idea what this incantation involved, or what horrors would be thrown our way next, but none of that mattered at the moment. We finally had an opportunity to make our small group whole again.

  Once that was done, maybe then we could finally see about bringing sanity back to this world rapidly going mad.

  For now, though, we once again had hope and, so long as we had hope, we could face whatever came next.

  THE END

  Bill Ryder will return in

  CARNAGE À TROIS (Bill of the Dead – 3)

  Read on for a sneak preview.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  And be sure to check out how it all started!

  A Higher Calling (Bill of the Dead 0.5)

  Available exclusively to members of my mailing list.

  Grab your free copy at: Bookhip.com/RCLQPW.

  DESTINY IS MADE BY THOSE BOLD ENOUGH TO SHAPE IT.

  For over 300 years, I honed my skills – preparing for a time when I might rule this world from the shadows. But that ended on the day when all magic was banished from this realm. I lost my immortality, becoming a mere human, with all their weaknesses and frailties.

  But, powers or not, I – Gansetseg, daughter of Ogedei Khan – will never be one of them.

  Now, four years later, I have a choice. I can accept the hand that fate has dealt me – living my life, knowing that one day my light will fade. Or I can reject this mortal coil and embrace who I was meant to be. Madness, ruin, and even death await down this path, but I believe I have the will to forge my own destiny – the natural order be damned.

  Sign up and grab your free copy today at: Bookhip.com/RCLQPW.

  BONUS CHAPTER

  Carnage À Trois

  Bill of the Dead, Part 3

  “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, what if it all goes...?”

  “What?” Sally asked, raising an eyebrow. “Tits up?”

  “I was going to go with wrong.”

  “If it does, it does. Shit happens, Bill. That’s simply a fact of life. Do you want to know the real difference between a good idea and a cataclysmically bad one?”

  “Sure, why not,” I replied.

  “Glad to hear it, because I was going to tell you anyway. The difference is there is none. All ideas are just that, ideas. Good or bad are determined in hindsight. The best idea in the world doesn’t mean shit if you fuck it up.”

  “So what you’re saying is let’s do this and not worry about it until such time as it bites us in the ass?”

  “Exactly.”

  It was hard to argue with such impeccable logic as we headed downstairs to where the members of the new Village Coven awaited us. No. That wasn’t right. Village Coven was only their temporary name. Soon, they’d have a shiny new one.

  I’d been wracking my brain to come up with something different, mostly failing until I realized there was a simpler method, something tried and true – having the members come up with suggestions and then tossing them in a hat. I’d briefly considered asking my friends to contribute as well but had quickly ixnayed that as, knowing my luck, we’d end up being known as the Bill Has No Dick Coven or something equally stupid.

  Either way, I figured we’d save the naming ceremony for the end. I had a feeling the beginning of this little meet-up would likely be busy enough with everyone freaking the fuck out, as this was officially the first time Sally would be facing them since her little incident with Stewart – an unfortunate misunderstanding which had ended with him in about a million bite-sized pieces.

  Ever since then, I’d done my fair share of talking the coven down, explaining that it had been an accident and that the supernatural world was a place where the phrase shit happens tended to apply more than usual. I’d been successful insofar as none of them had jumped ship yet but, needless to say, Sally hadn’t been invited to anymore of their game nights.

  I’d been debating how best to break the ice and get everyone back on talking terms again when the simplest of solutions had dropped into my lap. One of the new vamps had asked a question I didn’t know the answer to. Sally, however, having once been a far more experienced vampire than I, could almost certainl
y provide some insight.

  “You told these dipshits I was coming, right?” she asked once we’d stepped out of the stairwell and onto the floor the coven occupied.

  “Shh. Keep it down. They can probably hear you.”

  “So?”

  “So, I’m trying to smooth things over here, not hurt their feelings.”

  “Hurt their feelings?” she replied extra loud. “They’re vampires, not the fucking Care Bears.”

  “I know. I’m just trying to be ... nicer about it.” We stopped in front of apartment 2A, which had been designated as the coven’s common space. I lifted my hand and rapped on the door.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Knocking.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Get out of the way. You’re embarrassing me.”

  She elbowed past and shoved the door open.

  In prior years and with a much different Village Coven, it was best to be prepared for anything, as it wasn’t uncommon to barge in and see vamps fucking each other’s brains out atop a pile of corpses. To say things had changed wasn’t an understatement. The half dozen vamps who’d so far been recruited were all seated on the couch, fully clothed, and doing nothing more nefarious than watching TV.

  A new day had truly dawned.

  Whatever they’d been discussing immediately ceased as Sally stepped in, the only sounds to be heard that of whatever they’d been watching to pass the time, some banal sitcom if I was hearing right.

  To their credit, none of the assembled vamps bolted or attacked, but there were certainly plenty of deer in the headlights stares going on, broken only once one of them took their eyes off us long enough to lower the volume on the TV.

  Sally, never one for long hellos, jumped right in. “Your coven master asked me to come down here and...”