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

by Rick Gualtieri

  At last, we reached the front of the terminal. Sally stopped and looked at me expectantly. Almost without realizing I was doing so, I opened the door for her and we stepped out into the warm night air.

  “Not bad,” she said. “Maybe you’re not a lost cause after all, but we still have a lot of work to do if I’m gonna whip your ass into shape.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  She began walking again. After a moment, it became obvious her destination was a long black limo waiting at the curb. A tall man with thinning blonde hair held the door open for her. Just as she reached it, she turned to face me. “Welcome to Pandora Coven, Bill Ryder. Mind your manners.”

  “My manners?”

  “Yes. I’d suggest you remember that from here on in, the game has changed.”

  “Oh?”

  “For starters, I’m in charge. Don’t worry - if you forget, I’ll be sure to remind you.”

  Oh, crap. I had a sinking feeling I was better off letting Sheila disintegrate me.

  All Settled In

  The flimsy plywood gave way as my body slammed through it. It wasn’t the hardest I’d ever been hit, but it had been perfectly placed, catching me straight on the jaw. I probably could have either blocked it or stepped out of reach before it had connected, but alas, I’d been too busy enjoying the expression on Sally’s face. What can I say? Some things just never stopped being funny.

  Of course, humor was a relative concept when one found oneself in an uncontrolled thirty-foot freefall at the hands of a pissed off vampire. On the upside, at least I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone other than myself. The squatters had figured out weeks ago that the main stage was best left clear of people and possessions.

  There was likewise no need to fret about interrupting any dancers in the middle of a set. Tragically, it had been over a month since the last pair of tits had been flashed on stage to the beat of trashy music. That’s when the main power had gone out for good and the denizens of Vegas had been forced to stop pretending that everything was fine and dandy - that the weirdness of the outside world would just pass them by.

  Three months had passed since Christy had teleported me here. At the time, one could have almost pretended that everything I’d seen in New York had just been my imagination. This city had seemed so normal at first, relatively speaking, of course. Now, those times were over and it was starting to look like a set piece from a Mad Max movie.

  Those were thoughts for another time, though. The condition of the world as a whole wasn’t my main concern right at that moment.

  I landed hard on the formerly mirror-polished stage - now marred by scratches, scrapes, and a body-sized crater that marked the landing place of most who dared test Sally’s wrath.

  Oh well, at least the ballistic glass that once covered the window looking down upon the club hadn’t been replaced. That shit kinda hurt to be flung through. Thankfully, custom, bulletproof, one-way mirrors were in short supply these days.

  “You know she doesn’t like to be called that.”

  I pulled myself to a sitting position and turned to find Kara’s grinning face staring back at me. Tom’s younger sister was cute in all the ways her brother wasn’t. Unfortunately for her, he made up for that by still living in all the ways she was no longer capable of. She’d been turned into one of the undead at some point in the recent past, under circumstances that I still wasn’t entirely clear on. Regardless, I sure as shit wasn’t going to be the one to break it to my oldest friend that his sibling was now Sally’s bloodsucking sorority sister.

  I stretched and felt my vertebrae snap back into place - ouch. “I think you’ll find that I have no problem calling our illustrious leader whatever the hell I please.”

  “Your funeral.”

  “Smart girl,” Sally’s voice carried down to us from the now open portal above. “Now get the fuck back to work.”

  Kara muttered something under her breath before scampering away. It was probably a petulant dig at being ordered about. She tended to do that a lot, but Sally mostly pretended not to hear her, oddly displaying an extra dollop of tolerance for her antics. Of course, maybe that was just relative to what she afforded me.

  “Care to rephrase your earlier statement?” Sally grinned as she peered down from above. Oddly enough, clocking me usually seemed to help improve her mood. Go figure.

  A momentary temptation to nod respectfully passed through my mind, but fuck that shit. Our roles might’ve been reversed from back in our Village Coven days, but all that meant to me was I could give her a dose of her own medicine - something that always improved my mood. “Yeah, I was thinking maybe we should just quit with the foreplay and move right on to the sex. Sound like a plan, Lu?”

  Her eyes flashed black with annoyance. “How’s this for an answer?” She ducked back in, and I heard the sound of wood scraping against wood. By the time I put two and two together, her desk was already crashing through the remainder of the plywood and headed my way.

  I rolled to the right and fell off the stage just as it landed where I’d been sitting a moment earlier, shattering into pieces and greatly widening the crater in the middle.

  Some people just had no sense of humor.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I was still dusting myself off when Sally came downstairs. While there was little doubt she’d put on a show for all the eyeballs present, I could also tell whatever real annoyance she’d felt had already burned itself out. Had she been serious about chewing me a new asshole, she’d have taken the express route from above - probably landing far more gracefully than I had. Instead, minutes had passed and I saw that she was taking the time to acknowledge some of the refugees as she walked by them.

  As much as I wanted to make a douchey comment about that, I couldn’t. Despite her iron-bitch exterior, she’d continually surprised me by showing what appeared to be genuine concern toward the welfare of most of the humans here.

  Most being the operative word. It certainly didn’t go unnoticed that some had just up and disappeared - there one day, gone the next. Usually, it was troublemakers - people that the others wouldn’t be sad to see leave. I wasn’t quite so naïve to believe they had conveniently moved on, though. At the end of the day, this was still a coven, and there were vampires that needed to be fed.

  Sally sure as shit hadn’t reformed to the point of becoming Mother Teresa. Even so, I found myself growing fond of seeing her human moments, although I wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

  She walked up to me and put her hands on her shapely hips. Despite the rapidly deteriorating state of the world, she somehow still managed to appear both kempt and fashionable - no doubt thanks to her personal stylist and fellow Village Coven refugee, Alfonso. Sally was only willing to go so far when it came to suffering for the cause. “Have I made my point?”

  She’d asked her question loud enough to get the attention of the room. It wasn’t surprising. Since joining her in Pandora Coven, she’d continually reinforced that showing any weakness wasn’t an option for her. I could respect that, but it still didn’t mean I cared to lie down and play dead at her whimsy.

  No matter what title she held, she was still Sally to me. More so, lately I had a newfound appreciation for our time together. Our banter had always been like a game between us, but it was one that I took increasing comfort in - regardless of the often painful side effects. Who knows? Maybe it was my time spent alone in Alex’s dungeon, or the impending end of the world, but I’d been making it a point to be more mindful of the good times as of late.

  Even so, there was no way I was bending over and taking her shit. I opened my mouth to reply with something guaranteed to piss her off when we were saved by the proverbial bell.

  “We have visitors,” a voice called out. “They look official.”

  We both turned toward the source. Steve, her other lieutenant in the coven, had relayed the news. He was tall, thin, and pretty much all business - def
initely a yes-man, but I couldn’t deny he often got results. Needless to say, I had to listen to Sally constantly crowing about him. It would have become quickly grating had I not been certain that was exactly the reaction she was going for.

  “Check them out,” she instructed him.

  He turned back toward the entrance of the club and disappeared, nary a comment made. There’s always gotta be one kiss-ass in the crowd.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Vamps?”

  “Or shape-shifters,” she replied tersely, our little spat apparently over for now.

  In the weeks prior, the few visitors we’d had could mostly be compartmentalized into two camps: things trying to kill us and those seeking protection from the things trying to kill us. The former were usually not overly subtle, but there had been a couple of near disasters - enough to make everyone a bit paranoid.

  The ugly rock monsters that inhabited the storm drains beneath the city - the Jahabich, or whatever the fuckers were called - made for pretty good doppelgangers when they wanted to. They’d tried more than once to gain entrance that way, but had failed mainly because we weren’t complete fucking idiots. No matter how human something looked, if it smelled like a pile of shit-encrusted granite, chances were it was getting blasted to hell. Pretty simple rules to live by, all in all. Even so, the damned things kept trying, so it made sense to keep our shields raised at all times.

  After a few minutes passed and we noticed no gunfire or other such pleasantries exchanged, we made our way to the entrance hall. Steve was reentering the building, followed by five others. Two were ours - guards. They stood flanking our guests. Even with so-called friendlies, one couldn’t be too safe.

  I didn’t need to catch their scent to conclude the three newcomers were vamps. Most humans who came looking for sanctuary were in pretty dire straits, usually lugging the tattered remains of their belongings with them. Decked out in their black suits and trench coats, it almost seemed these guys hadn’t noticed the world going to Hell around them. Judging by their bored expressions, they found Armageddon about as interesting as watching moths fly into a bug zapper.

  We’d gotten official visits before. The Prefect of the West Coast, a vampire named Yvonne, was known to send her representatives every so often. Sometimes, they came with orders. Occasionally, they came to check on how we were holding up. Rarely did they come with supplies, though.

  The two in the rear carried a large cargo container, roughly seven feet long by about three feet wide and deep, between them.

  “Is it Christmas time already?”

  “Could be,” Sally commented by my side.

  The lead vamp, sporting an overdone mustache and goatee combo that made me wonder if he was going to start bartering for our souls, stepped forward. “Coven Master Sally, I presume.”

  “You presume correct,” she replied.

  His eyes strayed in my direction for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something, but then turned back toward her. I seemed to get a lot of that lately.

  “We have been ordered to provide safe passage to your newest charge.”

  “My newest charge?”

  “Yes. We are delivering an assignee to your coven.”

  I glanced toward Sally and her eyes met mine. They asked the same question I was thinking: What the fuck is this joker talking about?

  “I didn’t realize Yvonne was in the habit of pre-stocking her covens,” Sally said. “If I’d known, I’d have baked a cake.”

  “We are not from the Santa Clara complex.”

  “Oh?”

  “Orders from the First Coven,” he replied. “For security and safety reasons, the designee has been placed under your command.”

  “Security and safety?” I asked. “Whose?”

  “They didn’t elaborate.” He produced a thick sheet of papers from his jacket and held them out. Ye gods, even in the middle of the freaking apocalypse, the rulers of the vampire world loved their goddamned paperwork.

  Almost as if sensing my disdain, Sally took the bundle from our visitor and passed it over to me. “My assistant will see that these are properly filed.”

  I took hold and promptly tossed them over my shoulder. “Filed. Can we open our present now?”

  The look on the other vamp’s face was priceless. Typically, that sort of thing would mean an instant beating at the hands of an elder, but I had little doubt these clowns knew who I was. Maybe I wasn’t the prophesized flavor of the month anymore, but I still had enough of a reputation that most vamps wouldn’t start shit with me if they didn’t have to.

  Sally, for her part, was wearing an expression that was halfway between exasperation and amusement. She liked the official bullshit about as much as I did, but still had an image to maintain. Concealing the barest of grins, she addressed the lead vamp. “Do you have anything else for me?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay, then. Steve, provide our guests with some refreshments and then show them the fuck out.”

  Needless to say, her skills as a hostess had been somewhat strained these past several weeks.

  Steve, being a far better subordinate than I, nodded for our guests to follow him inside - most likely to the bar. There was no point in ticking off the Draculas over something as silly as failing to offer their lackeys a little hospitality.

  The two holding the crate let go unceremoniously, and it landed with a heavy thud. A muffled curse sounded from within.

  My eyebrows shot up at the seemingly familiar cadence. Nah, it couldn’t be.

  I held my tongue until the undead delivery boys left the room, leaving Sally and me alone with the package. “Did that sound like...?”

  “Only one way to find out.” She stepped up to the crate, extended her claws, and shoved them under the lid. One quick heave later and the nails holding the top shut squealed against the wood as they gave way to her strength.

  The cover clattered to the floor and we found a very familiar face staring angrily back at us from within.

  “It’s about fucking time. I couldn’t breathe in this thing.”

  Smiling broadly, I offered a hand to help our newest recruit out. My eyes glanced toward Sally. “So what do you think? Return to sender?”

  “Nah,” she replied, a wicked grin forming on her face. “I think this one has possibilities.”

  The Newest Member of the Team

  “I would never presume to speak for our voluptuous coven master,” I said, earning a glare from Sally, “but I think it’s safe to ask for both of us: what the fuck are you doing here?”

  “You mean besides the fact that vampires are assholes?” Ed asked, looking none too pleased despite being out of the packing crate and having a nice stiff drink in hand.

  I could sympathize, having traveled as a boxed lunch before. The shiner on the right side of his face further drove the point home. “Let me guess - they didn’t ask nicely?”

  “Oh, they did...once.” He lifted the shot glass and drained its contents in one gulp.

  “Need something for that?”

  “Just a couple of aspirin and the names of the vamps who grabbed me.” He reached across the bar for the bottle of Scotch, but Sally pulled it away before he could grab it.

  “Sorry, shipments of single malt are a little behind these days. Besides, I don’t recall opening a tab for you.” Her voice was only semi-serious, although I knew there had been several thefts from the booze stockpile as of late - mainly because I was the one doing most of the stealing. “Now, if you two are done stroking each other off, let’s get down to business.”

  She got up and walked out, her meaning clear - follow. There were too many prying ears around, both human and vamp, and they’d probably heard too much already.

  There would no doubt be questions as to his recruitment status. Ed’s condition was...well, weird. Bitten by a former Templar turned vampire, he’d been saved, if just barely, by Sheila’s healing touch. However, something had
gone not so much wrong as off with the process. Ed had returned to the land of the living, but it would have been a lie to categorize him fully under the species sapiens of the genus Homo. His blood was now somehow infused with the power of faith, making it extremely lethal for the undead to partake of. At the same time, though, James had casually remarked that Ed still had some vampire taint - his words, not mine - upon him.

  The problem was most of the vamps who’d been witness to Ed’s power since then had either exploded, freaked out, or gone batshit insane with the desire to kill him. How that translated to him being here, though, I had no idea.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Sally closed the door to her office and sat in her chair, which now stood in the middle of a mostly empty room, her back against the formerly gaping portal overlooking the club. It had once again been hastily covered with plywood, at least until the next time I pissed her off. She ignored Ed’s look of confusion and gestured toward a couple of other seats in the room.

  “Don’t ask,” I mentioned to him as we sat.

  “Smart of James to send you here,” she said.

  “James?” I asked. “How do you...”

  “He’s the only one who makes sense. Calibra is still a prisoner, Vehron wants him dead, and Colin wouldn’t spare him two thoughts if he was the last blood-bag left on the planet.”

  “That doesn’t really add up,” Ed replied.

  “Actually, it does,” I said. “Remember that bullshit story he gave the HBC about you, how you were some sort of half-assed biological weapon?”

  “Don’t remind me. He was talking like I was some sort of fucking virus.”

  “Don’t feel bad. To most vampires, humans pretty much are,” Sally replied. “Tasty viruses, but that’s beside the point. I don’t pretend to know how James thinks, but I can probably surmise the rest. Bottom line is nobody knows what the hell you are. You might be just another human waiting to be squashed like a bug...”