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

by Rick Gualtieri

  I helpfully pointed this out, but seemed to be the only one overly concerned. James was anxious to get a move on, while Sally was busy trying not to laugh at Calibra’s discomfort with the bright pink hoodie she’d been given to wear. So glad to see everyone had their priorities in order.

  One quick jaunt through the sewers later found us a few short blocks away from our destination - far enough so as not to arouse suspicion when we surfaced. Shaded by the tall buildings on either side of the street, it was smooth sailing from there out.

  Or maybe not.

  The place was mobbed with a crowd spanning out nearly a block in every direction. I couldn’t really blame them. New Yorkers were a tough bunch, but the shit that’d been happening was enough to unnerve anyone.

  The people were frightened and angry. Worst of all, it looked like a lot of the cops that should have been out doing stuff to help the situation were stuck here in crowd control - barely keeping the nervous mob from swarming the doors.

  There was no fucking way we were getting through this shit.

  Or so I thought.

  James led the way, subtly using his enhanced strength to push through the crowd, allowing us to follow, but not hurting anyone or drawing undue attention to us.

  As we approached one of the cops on duty, I had a moment to muse that, in addition to being greasy and dressed like creeps, we now smelled like an unholy mix of aloe and garbage.

  “There’s no fucking way we’re not getting tossed in the drunk tank,” I whispered to Ed as we got near.

  “Who’s this we you’re talking about? Shit goes down and I’ll just claim you fuckers kidnapped me.”

  “At least victim is a step up from bait.”

  “Good point.”

  Our banter petered out as James waved down the officer. I held my breath to see what would happen next. There was something about being at a police station that suggested silence would be the best course of action - as if just our proximity to it would cause every person in uniform to point their fingers and cry, “Guilty!”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Sally said as she stepped near us. “Will you two stand up straight? You both look like you’re about to turn yourselves in.”

  “Well excuse me,” I replied. “I’m sure when you’ve been booked for soliciting Johns enough times this becomes old hat. Some of us, though, have a healthy respect for the law.”

  She cocked her fist back as if to clock me one, but stopped when she saw my grin - no doubt realizing that committing assault right in front of Cop Central was a dumb move, even for a vampire.

  James and Calibra spoke to the officer while ignoring our antics. Their body language suggested authority at odds with their dress. I tensed as the eyes of the other cops close by narrowed on them, ready to hit the deck if lead or body parts started flying. That didn’t happen, though.

  Instead, the tiniest of tremors passed through me, almost imperceptible - as if a subway had passed by far beneath. Ed appeared not to have noticed, but Sally’s eyes met mine.

  “Was that...”

  “I’m not sure,” she replied, “but I think that may have been the subtlest human compulsion I’ve ever seen.”

  “I didn’t even catch what he said.”

  “I know. I guess that’s why he’s one of the Draculas and we’re not.”

  “Freaky.”

  “Kinda hot, too.” She noticed my sidelong glance. “What? It is.”

  I was about to comment, but Calibra turned and waved us on.

  To my surprise, we were escorted past the crowd, their angry taunts momentarily directed at us. They probably wondered why we were such VIPs.

  We were led through the front doors and, amazingly enough, ushered past any security checkpoints that would have otherwise revealed some of us were packing some serious heat. James directed us to the main desk, where we were all handed visitor passes.

  “Have a good day, sir,” the clerk said respectfully.

  That caught me by surprise. My run-ins with the police during my college days were more likely to end in punk than sir. I looked down at my pass and saw why. A fake name stared back, identifying me as a fed. Hot damn.

  As James led us toward a bank of elevators, I had to ask, “NSA?”

  “Yes. I find they are the organization least likely to be met with any silly territorial posturing.”

  “You do realize that impersonating a federal agent is a pretty major crime.”

  “Of course. Just as I realize that with the onset of hostilities, the majority of said agencies will most likely be rendered moot in the coming months.”

  “Oh.”

  An elevator opened and a white-haired, uniformed man stepped out. I wasn’t entirely up on my rank insignias, but I was pretty sure he was a captain. He stepped up to James, giving me momentary pause to consider that perhaps the jig was up.

  “Your ride’s waiting for you.”

  Or maybe not.

  “Excellent,” James replied. “Please lead the way.”

  We stepped into the elevator. I expected us to head down, perhaps to a subbasement garage. To my surprise, though, we ascended.

  “Anything you can tell me about all the shit going on?” the captain asked.

  He must’ve seen my eyes pop open wide, because he said, “Yeah, I know all about bloodsuckers.”

  “That’s such a crude term,” James said conversationally.

  “I was referring to your friends in high places. Goddamned politicians.”

  “On that we can agree.”

  A few minutes later, we were escorted out onto the roof. The daylight momentarily blinded me, but I could plainly hear the sound of rotors engaging.

  “Not the least conspicuous bird we’ve ever had here,” the cop said.

  James stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder amicably. “I dare say, Captain Valente, the days of subtlety may very well be over. Please take care of yourself.”

  I looked past them and took in our ride for the first time. Yeah, subtle definitely wasn’t the right word. A sleek chopper awaited us - black with no markings. Fuck me if it didn’t look like the helicopter from that old show Airwolf...complete with the weaponry to back it up.

  “So what do you think?” James asked, turning back toward me.

  “What do I think?” I repeated, grinning. “I think I’m calling shotgun.”

  A Slight Detour

  James overruled me, thus showing that - amongst myriad other offenses - the Draculas didn’t respect the universal rules for calling dibs. Oh well, at least Ed didn’t get the hot seat either - albeit he didn’t exactly appear to be suffering with his consolation prize: a seat next to Sally.

  Calibra sat up front next to the pilot, who was no doubt also a vampire, judging by his full body jumpsuit, including helmet. The rest of us took the rear compartment, which was far more comfortable than the aggressive exterior of the chopper suggested.

  The windows were heavily tinted, allowing us to ditch some of our coverings once the doors were shut. That was at least a minor plus, albeit we all still smelled like the losers in a Coppertone battle royale.

  Even so, it was a lot better than my last trip in a copter - when Alex’s men flew me back home from the Woods of Mourning. Sally and I had sat in uncomfortable silence then, afraid to say much. Now, despite the fact that we were potentially flying into - as opposed to away from - the frying pan, I found the company much more agreeable.

  “This sure as hell beats driving,” Ed said.

  “Especially in your car.”

  “I got rid of that piece of shit.”

  “I meant your new one,” I replied, ducking out of his reach.

  “This is okay, I guess,” Sally commented. “Not quite one of our chartered jets, though.”

  “True enough,” James replied. “There’s no champagne service, but at least it allows us to bypass check-in.”

  “Speaking of which,” I asked,
“how long to Boston?”

  “We should be touching down in roughly an hour and a half.”

  That definitely kicked the shit out of driving, especially since a good chunk of the trip usually entailed rotting in traffic. Sure, there were rest stops, but the daylight ensured I would be a veritable prisoner in the car. That wasn’t particularly cool when one was in need to take an epic piss. Also, last time we made the trip, Tom fucked up my order for lunch - purposely, too. The dickhead knows I don’t like onions on my burger.

  Sadly, burgers weren’t on the menu for us that day. However, a stopover most certainly was - I just didn’t know it yet.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  James spent the next twenty minutes compelling Sally...sadly, not for anything fun. As the potential weak link in our group - which she helpfully planted a heel into my shin upon my pointing out - she sat there as James attempted to fortify her own mental barriers against compulsion. That seemed like one motherfucker of a smart idea to me, considering how easily Chuck had snared Starlight and Firebird. James wasn’t entirely sure of the other vamp’s age or power, but he was confident in his own abilities to temporarily erect enough walls in her mind to fend off anything but a direct attack.

  His compulsions couldn’t affect me, but they still reverberated in my skull - especially in those close quarters. It wasn’t long before a headache set in.

  I tried to tune him out by attempting to figure out how long the traffic jam below was - no doubt made up of those trying to flee the craziness going on in the city. I stopped doing so after a while, though, and just estimated it to be really fucking long. The intermittent police lights likely made it worse. The officers were probably dealing with the accidents that tended to occur whenever one introduced a little bit of panic to the unwashed masses. By the look of things, if we’d traveled by car, our ETA to Boston would be roughly sometime next month.

  After finishing his compulsion reinforcements, James sat back and appeared to retreat into his thoughts. That left Sally, Ed and me to banter about mostly meaningless bullshit - with a lot of pathetic flirting on Ed’s part thrown in to add a little nausea to the mix.

  Finally, about forty-five minutes into the trip, I grew tired of it and figured I’d see what the skinny was on our new Prefect - especially since she was up front with the pilot and out of earshot...hopefully. “So, tell me about this Calibra chick.”

  “Calibra chick?” James repeated as he raised an eyebrow.

  “You know what I mean. How’d she get Colin’s job?”

  “Calibra has been with the Boston office since before I was transferred there. She’s an exemplary employee and a top-notch manager. The truth is, she was overdue for a promotion. She tried to turn it down, in fact, but I insisted.”

  “Interesting,” I lied. “So...”

  “So what’s up with her name?” Ed asked, interrupting me. “Don’t think I ever heard anyone called that.” He stifled a yawn as he finished. I could commiserate. We’d been on the go for over twenty-four hours. Even with my vampire physiology, I was starting to feel my concentration waver.

  “That one is easy. She was named for the Calabria region of Southern Italy, where she was born. It’s a lovely place - highly recommended to visit.”

  “Yeah, but what can you really tell us about her?” I asked, trying to learn something useful. I mean, if she was going to be the one bossing us around, I wanted to know what kind of person she was. The last thing I needed was someone worse than Colin breathing down my neck every time I stepped out of line.

  Sadly, just as James began to speak, the radio came to life.

  “I beg your pardon, Wanderer,” Calibra said over the speaker. I had to wonder whether her ears had been burning.

  He pressed the button to respond and held up his other hand to shush the rest of us. “Go ahead.”

  “We’re receiving an encoded S.O.S. - it’s one of ours.”

  “The source?”

  “Norfolk Coven.”

  “Have you been able to make contact?”

  “Negative. I haven’t been able to hail them, either via radio or cell.”

  James took his finger off the button and rubbed his jaw, his face serious.

  “Could be a malfunction,” I offered.

  “Possible, although I highly doubt it.” He depressed the button again. “What was their previous status?”

  “Before we left for New York,” she replied, “I ordered all covens under my command be put on high alert - although I left the reasons purposefully vague, considering the past forty-eight hours.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “I don’t believe in coincidences,” James replied after a few moments.

  “Neither do I, Wanderer.”

  “Boston?”

  “I spoke to them a few minutes ago. They gave the all clear. Requesting permission to investigate.”

  “We still need to secure our main...”

  “With all due respect, Norfolk is under my jurisdiction. I would be remiss in my duties were I to ignore them.”

  James smiled. “Indeed you would.”

  “Also, I needn’t point out there is a good possibility our quarry might be responsible. We may be able to head him off before Boston.”

  His grin widened. “Your logic is sound, my dear. Permission granted.”

  James took his finger off the button. He had all the appearance of a proud teacher watching his student succeed.

  “As I said, she was long overdue for a promotion.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  From James’s description, Norfolk Coven sounded like a bunch of yokels - small town, less than fifteen thousand humans, mostly rural. The only way it could have been more in contrast to Village Coven was if it were located in some pygmy village deep in the Amazon. I wouldn’t have doubted that half the coven was married to their sisters and went line dancing every Friday night.

  “What do we do if we find him?” Ed asked.

  Sally smiled in response. “Did you see those big noisemakers attached to this bird? I’m thinking that’s what.”

  “A distinct possibility,” James said. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer we make certain before we level the entire town.”

  “You take all the fun out of a manhunt,” she replied with a mock pout.

  The joking done, he once more grew serious. “We shall circle the area and take stock of the situation. Assuming we see no hostiles, we’ll land and reconnoiter on foot.”

  “On foot?” I asked, glancing out the window.

  “We will use the daylight to our advantage. If our target is indeed here, he will not be expecting that.”

  “Works for me,” Sally said, pulling out her weapon and checking to make sure it was loaded.

  “I don’t suppose you’d let me borrow that?” Ed asked.

  “Never ask to touch a girl’s piece until at least the third date.”

  “Or unless you have a five-dollar...is that a falcon?” I quickly changed the subject as she leveled her weapon toward me.

  “Fret not,” James said. “Underneath your seat is a weapons locker. It contains everything we’ll need.”

  Ed’s eyes shined. As the lone human amongst us, I knew he would feel a shitload better if he was holding something that went bang. Fuck it, so would I. Sadly, I doubted even a howitzer would erase the chill currently running down my spine.

  A part of my mind insisted that I’d seen things incorrectly the day before...that I couldn’t have emptied an entire magazine of fifty-caliber silver bullets into Chuck...that I hadn’t sent him out of a window directly into the sunlight...that something had played out differently than I remembered it. It had to. These were all things that ended a fight as far as vampires were concerned. Yet all it had done was piss him off.

  Still, even if that were the case, things were different now. I had people a lot stronger and who could shoot a lot straighter
than me. Elder vampires might be tough as cast-iron balls, but they weren’t invulnerable. I just had to keep reminding myself that. Enough times and maybe I’d even believe it.

  Just then, the radio buzzed to life again. “Sir?” a voice, the pilot’s I assumed, asked.

  “What is our current ETA?” James asked.

  “That’s part of the problem, sir. I’m not sure.” The nervousness in his voice was evident. I could only guess that the very worst job in the vampire world - aside maybe from sitting bodiless in a fish tank day in and day out - was the poor schmuck whose job it was to report bad news to the Draculas. I couldn’t imagine the applicant pool for that position was particularly overflowing.

  “Elaborate,” James replied calmly.

  “We’ve arrived, sir, but I can’t find a place to land. I can’t find...anything.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I wasn’t sure what to expect of Norfolk - maybe a one-horse town with a bunch of old timers sitting out on their porches wearing flannel and chewing tobacco. What I saw was...well, not much of anything.

  Trees stretched for miles in every direction. Some ways off in the distance, I could see a road, but it appeared to run directly into the forest.

  “This can’t be right,” I muttered.

  James hit the button on the radio. “Are you absolutely certain of our location?”

  “Global positioning confirms it, sir,” the pilot replied, sounding like he’d much sooner dive out and try his hand at freefall than relay the news.

  “There!” Sally pointed a well-manicured finger. I followed her gaze and saw something white sticking out amongst the trees.

  “What the?”

  “Looks like the steeple of a church,” James said.

  “Why would they build a church in the middle of the freaking woods?”

  “They didn’t,” he replied. “If I’m not mistaken, the entire town is down there - completely reclaimed by the forest.”

  “Not completely,” Sally said, pointing again. “What’s that?”

  It was a small clearing, but not a natural one. Trees were broken off, lying about as if something big had plowed through them. From this height, even I had to strain my vampire-enhanced eyes, but I could see that the ground within was stained a dirty brown color.