The Tome of Bill Series: Books 5-8 (Goddamned Freaky Monsters, Half A Prayer, The Wicked Dead, The Last Coven)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Might be some complaining. There are a few jerks in the crowd.”

  “Asshole vampires? Say it isn’t so.”

  She laughed at that, one of the few vamps who truly understood. “Anyway, there might be a few protests, but Sally did a good job teaching most of them how the food chain works.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  “So what do you say? Will the Freewill grace Village Coven with his leadership once more?”

  Ed groaned, but I chose to ignore him. Despite my misgivings, it was hard to say no to Starlight and her big brown eyes - not to mention other tasty bits.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but whatever answer I might have voiced was lost, thanks to the door picking that exact moment to explode in a shower of splinters.

  Hail to the King, Baby

  Monkhbat reacted far faster than the rest of us - crouching into a defensive stance, despite the brunt of the debris hitting him. The second a form appeared through the wreckage, he was already moving. Gan had trained her people well.

  Sadly, all the training in the world was sometimes meaningless against raw power. He flew toward the door, dagger at the ready. His blade connected, slashing deeply into one heavily muscled arm of the intruder, but he might as well have been attacking with a toothpick. The battle was over a scant second later.

  Before he could further respond, Monkhbat was quite literally torn in half. His remains turned to ash before they even hit the floor.

  Stunned silence met our visitor’s approach as he stepped through the cloud that had been Gan’s assassin a moment before. He was a large man, over six and a half feet tall. Rippling muscle covered his bare chest, but at least he had the good graces to have covered up his junk since our last meeting - wearing a kilt made of various torn clothing fragments. I had little doubt they’d come from any new victims he’d managed to claim in the time since our last meeting.

  The ensuing hours had been kind to him. He no longer looked like a dried out octogenarian. Hell, he could have just stepped forth from a sword and sorcerer movie.

  It was his face that gave him away. I’d seen it before it had withered. The long, black hair and prominent chin - that looked strong enough to shatter a brick wall with just a sneer - were unmistakable.

  The dark forms on his body had clarified into tattoos. A moon and a sun sat on opposite shoulders, and a serpent wound across his chest, ending somewhere below his makeshift clothing. What was it with big dudes and ink? Oh well, I was probably just miffed that he pulled it off. What would have been a mural to loserdom on my body looked cool on this asshole.

  All things considered, though, discussing bitchin’ tats was probably not at the top of anybody’s list right at that moment.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Starlight,” I said, keeping my eyes on the intruder, “take Ed. Go find Dave and Firebird and get the fuck out of here. Get to the safe house down on Fifth.”

  “But you just told him where...”

  “He doesn’t speak English. Trust me on this.”

  “Oh.”

  “Move it!”

  The shaved ape grinned as I spoke. Well, okay, hopefully he didn’t speak English. The truth was I didn’t know shit about this guy. Hell, I didn’t even have any idea how he’d tracked us down. We’d come in through the sewer. As sensitive as vamp nostrils were, they tended to be pretty useless when the distinct perfume of shit scented every single breath.

  Starlight took a step, but I felt the compulsion a split second before hearing it and immediately realized she wouldn’t get very far.

  “ATTEND ME!! KNEEL AND OBEY!!”

  Unlike the last time, this one was sent out in broadcast mode. It washed over me like a tidal wave and knocked me back several paces. Two of the windows in the office blew out from the force of it.

  Sirens blared below now that the thick glass was gone. In the back of my head, I wondered if this asshole had been the cause, but immediately dismissed it. It wasn’t the clearest day, but there was still enough sunlight to make it impossible for a vamp to walk around without plenty of cover. Considering Conan here was dressed for an outing at muscle beach, that ruled him out.

  I had no interest in the cops dragging me away on only my second day back. At the same time, however, I said a quick prayer that someone down below had noticed the debris raining down upon them and were heading up to investigate - hopefully, with lots and lots of guns.

  Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I quickly glanced back over my shoulder. Sure enough, Starlight was down on her knees. The doors opened in the back and both Dave and Firebird stepped through, their eyes completely glazed over. They joined Star in genuflecting before the powerful vamp who had summoned them. Thankfully, no others appeared. They must have vacated the building when told to. That only left...

  “Who the fuck is this guy, Bill?”

  My head whipped around. “How are you still standing, Ed?” It probably wasn’t the best time to ask such a question, but even so...what the hell?

  I had no clue as to how old this vamp was, but his compulsions were at least on the level with François’s - a seven-hundred-year-old former Nazi asshole of a vamp currently on the front lines up in Canada. He’d once thrown a casual compulsion at my friends and knocked them all for a loop. Yet Ed stood there now with nary a hint of shakiness.

  Unfortunately, a detailed analysis would have to wait. Our guest finally noticed my roommate’s presence. The big guy’s eyes darkened, and a look of pure rage came over his face. “Abominatio,” he spat through gritted fangs. Evidently, he was still a wee bit pissed at having his insides scorched. Some people just didn’t have a “forgive and forget” outlook on life.

  I’d love to say that Ed sprang into action, displaying a whole bevy of awesome new superpowers that he used to kick our foe’s ass, but that would be a load of Sasquatch shit. In actuality, he just stood there, unmoving like a deer in the headlights.

  Watching someone else being the target for a change wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I’d hoped, but that probably had something to do with my friend being in the crosshairs instead. Regardless, I wasn’t about to let this goon have Ed without a fight. “As soon as I have him distracted, get to the fucking elevator.”

  The vamp turned his head toward me, a look of contempt upon his face. Language barrier or not, it was painfully obvious I was planning something. Oh well, knowing something was a trap wasn’t quite as good as knowing what that trap was.

  “Don’t you mean the stairs?” Ed asked, his eyes firmly trained on the hostile in the room.

  “Nope. Take a look at this asshole. Do you think he knows what the fuck an elevator is?”

  “Good point. What are you gonna...”

  I was already on the move by the time he started the question. I grabbed the nearest desk and flung it at the roidhead, hoping perhaps he expected some drawn out exposition before the inevitable attack.

  The mostly particle board construct - fucking cheap-ass Sally - slammed into him and shattered. Office supplies flew in all directions, but the impact didn’t even budge him an inch. So much for that strategy.

  The vamp merely sighed and shook his head as if judging my battle prowess to be lacking. Everyone’s a critic.

  I moved over to another desk, hoping that perhaps the owner had stocked it full of lead, but my meaning was hopefully clear. I might be a bug to him, but I could at least be an annoying bug.

  I smiled to let him know that.

  And then he was right in front of me.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Goddamn, I hated when older vamps did that. Talk about showing off.

  On the other hand, it did distract him from Ed.

  “Run!”

  To my roommate’s credit, he didn’t try to pull any stupid heroics. No shout of “Not without you!” No clumsy counterattack that would do nothing more than embarrass us both. He took the hint and got the fuck out of Dodge.

  Fran
kenstein’s monster glanced back toward him, which left me with the perfect opening. I may not be able to give Alex a run for his money on the battlefield, but I knew an opening for a cheap shot when I saw one.

  I’d learned one very important lesson within the first ten minutes of waking up as a vampire: our nerve endings worked just fine. Some vamps might have a higher tolerance for pain than others, but a good shot to the family jewels was still the great equalizer for anyone with a Y chromosome.

  I brought my knee up and felt it solidly connect. I’d hoped to double the motherfucker over, maybe give me an opportunity to slam a stake through his ribcage. He definitely felt it. The roar of rage that escaped his lips was testament to that. His eyes narrowed, and he dropped a hand to cradle his damaged goods, but sadly, that was the extent of my blow’s effect.

  Oh crap. I metaphorically felt my blood run cold. You know you’re up against a tough hombre when the universal calling card for male agony doesn’t end the fight.

  While I was debating my next move, he made his. He lashed out with his other arm and caught me square in the chest.

  Blood sprayed from my mouth as my ribs shattered, and then I was airborne, flying as if I’d just been launched out of a catapult. All the while, the two present members of Village Coven - my coven - along with one potential inductee continued kneeling on the ground like a group of sorry sycophants.

  Fortunately, I was spared from having to witness anymore by the nice comfy wall I slammed through - pretty much pulverizing the few parts of me uninjured by his initial blow.

  I crashed through plaster and slammed into something solid, halting my momentum with a crunch.

  As the dust settled, booming laughter reached my ears from the outer room. I may have failed at stopping this truck-on-legs, but at least I’d succeeded in providing amusement. That had to count for something.

  Wheezing blood, I grabbed hold of whatever I had hit and dragged my sorry carcass back to my feet...

  Your end has come. You shall die screaming the name of the destroyer.

  ...and subsequently jumped out of my skin. What the fuck was that? I spun and checked the room, coughing up even more blood in the process. I’d have sworn that threat had come from Harry Decker, a wizard who’d made it his life’s work to fuck with every aspect of my existence.

  But that asshole was dead. During her last visit, Gan had been so kind as to perform impromptu throat surgery on him - extracting needless things from his body, like his windpipe.

  Whoa, that monster must’ve hit me harder than I thought. I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs, and that’s when I realized where I was.

  It was Sally’s office...or former office, anyway. Either way, it was the corner suite from which she’d overseen the coven like some sort of queen bee. She’d spared no expense either, as I could attest having just slammed into the solid as fuck desk that had once been hers.

  Wait a second...Sally’s office!

  Taking a quick look around, it appeared that Starlight hadn’t gotten around to redecorating it much. I mean, there was a skull sitting in one corner like the world’s most gruesome paperweight. That was new, but not much else had changed. Maybe she was afraid to, not knowing if bitchzilla might return.

  That gave me an idea.

  What the hell? It was worth a shot...quite literally.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I stepped back out of the office, still a little wobbly, but infinitely better prepared.

  “...BRING THE ABOMINATION TO ME!!”

  The ass end of the compulsion whispered in my mind. It had obviously been directed elsewhere, probably to my three bewitched comrades. Sure enough, I caught Firebird’s tight little rear disappearing just as the stairwell door closed on it.

  Considering the similarity to the word spoken earlier, I was forced to conclude that Ed was the abomination in question. Hopefully, he hadn’t gotten stuck in a car that was stopping at every floor to pick up some asshole or another. If so, there was a distinct chance I wouldn’t reach him in time to do any good.

  The fucker who’d made the compulsion faced the doorway where he’d sent his new minions. He slowly turned back toward me, no doubt sensing my reappearance.

  That same bemused grin appeared on his face, and he spoke once more. I didn’t need to be a linguist to appreciate the mocking tone. Once more, he ended things with that annoying frater word.

  “Oh yeah? Well, Daddy’s here to give you a permanent timeout, asshole.” A grin appeared on my own face as I lifted the massive weapon and pointed it straight at him.

  I’d gotten lucky. Starlight hadn’t really changed much of anything, including the contents of Sally’s drawers. One of them had still contained my former partner’s favorite response to unwanted pickup lines - a Desert Eagle loaded with silver-tipped bullets. Oh yeah. Now we were cooking with gas.

  I grasped it with both hands, remembering how I’d almost knocked out my own teeth the last time I’d fired it - ending up looking like Dirty Harry’s dipshit cousin.

  Tarzan the Ape Vamp raised one eyebrow, but continued grinning. A small shiver of fear crept up my spine. Did this guy think he was so tough that a load of high caliber...

  Then I remembered he’d spent God knows how long decorating a shelf in Alex’s closet. It was quite possible he didn’t even know what a gun was.

  Well, if that were the case, then it was time to go to school.

  I put pressure on the trigger. I’d seen this guy move. If he went to warp nine and appeared in front of me again, I wanted to make sure there was a photon torpedo waiting for him. Fuck that Picard Maneuver bullshit.

  He stepped forward and blathered more nonsense. Another idea hit me as he continued yammering. If it worked, then it was surely lights out for Mr. Muscles. The time for taking chances was over. I’d accidentally let this guy out to play, and my friend had paid for it with his life. He was going down, and I was making sure he stayed there this time.

  “No habla, hombre,” I said, taking a step to my left.

  Come on...

  He took a step to mirror my own. Yes! No matter what timeframe you might hail from, the rules of a standoff apparently apply.

  “That’s right, gruesome,” I continued, keeping my voice steady. One of the lessons I’d taken to heart as a vampire was that appearance was everything. Play the role of the bad cop convincingly enough, and people will fall in line to believe it. Show a bit of weakness and the masses will be all over you like hyenas on a rotting corpse. “Be a good little vamp and papa will let you play with his Red Rider BB gun.”

  We continued to circle in a clockwise manner.

  Just a wee bit more.

  “WHY DO YOU STAND AGAINST ME, LITTLE BROTHER?!”

  The compulsion was subtle, with no force to it. It seemed that Ator the Fighting Eagle had likewise come to the conclusion that it was the only way we were going to communicate.

  Little brother? What the fuck kind of family issues did this shithead have? I swear, if he called me “Mommy” next, I was outta there.

  Finally!

  The big dummy took one more step, which put his back to the windows he’d blown out upon his arrival. It was time to pay the piper.

  “I’M NOT YOUR BROTHER, YOUR FATHER, OR YOUR UNCLE BUCK. WHAT I AM IS THE BADDEST MOTHERFUCKER YOU’RE EVER GOING TO MEET. THE NAME IS DR. DEATH...”

  I smiled ever wider. “AND THIS IS MY BOOMSTICK!!”

  Elevator Music

  Yeah, I might have laid it on a little thick. Fortunately, there was nobody around to give me shit about it. That is, nobody who wouldn’t shortly be a pile of dust.

  I opened fire and - big surprise - the first shot went wide as I re-acclimated to the fact that Sally’s gun kicked like a goddamned mule. The look on the other vamp’s face turned to one of surprise as the thunderous report sounded in the close quarters. Satisfyingly, it quickly changed to one of pain as my next hit home and blasted a hole in his meaty should
er. It wasn’t a kill shot as I’d hoped, but the douchebag definitely noticed it.

  I wasn’t about to lose my advantage by gawking, so I steadied my aim and continued to squeeze the trigger.

  I’d love to lie and say I blew the fucker to pieces, like Robert Downey Jr. at the end of Natural Born Killers, but at least half my shots missed. Oh well, that movie kinda sucked ass anyway.

  The ones that hit home did the trick, though. Hunks of gore flew, followed by hot sparks as the silver reacted with his blood. Best yet, each impact drove him steadily backward.

  Of course, if the movies have taught me anything, it’s that one will always run out of bullets right before the bad guy careens to his certain death. Fucking clichés, they always gotta show up and piss on a guy’s parade.

  Thankfully, I’d anticipated that shit happening. The second the gun clicked dry, I was on the move, racing across the room at top speed and hoping to all hell that my target didn’t duck.

  Fortunately, he was slightly preoccupied with his missing pounds of body mass. He looked up too late and I delivered a dropkick that would have made any WWE superstar proud.

  We connected and my momentum transferred into him - thank goodness. I fell to the floor and he flew backward out the window, catching the express route to the ground floor.

  Game over, fucker.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I may not be the best at anticipating the moves of my enemies. What can I say? I’d once been given the assignment to read The Art of War in college and had instead tossed in a few Kung Fu movies - making my best guess when it was time to hand in the report. Got a C on it - not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

  Fortunately, I had a lifetime of bad action movies to fall back on. Raising the empty gun in one hand, I stepped to the window and glanced out - ready to club the crap out of Big Brother if he was still somehow holding on.

  Amazingly enough, he wasn’t there waiting to drag me to my doom. Yes!

  I risked a further peek out the window. Sure enough, a tiny, smoldering figure way down below lay atop some poor schmuck’s crushed car. At least it wasn’t Ed’s this time.