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

by Rick Gualtieri

“They can do that?”

  “The way he smells, I doubt it would take much effort.”

  “Oh fuck this.” I grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

  Sally didn’t put up any resistance as I dragged her into a bramble of bushes. She wasn’t dumb by any stretch of the imagination. Being caught out in the open with no weapons and looking like we were auditioning for parts in a porno didn’t seem smart.

  “If they’re friendly, we step out and say hi,” I whispered. By now, the others were close enough so that I could hear the crunch of leaves as they approached. Whoever they were, there was a decent number of them.

  “No shit,” she hissed back. “What if they’re not?”

  “If they’re not, then they still have Ed. They don’t get to keep him.”

  She nodded. “If we can take them, we do. If not, we follow and wait for an opportunity.”

  “There will be no need for that, I can assure you!” a voice cried out to us, close by, but still several dozen yards off.

  The smarmy French accent gave it away. Even if it hadn’t, the owner’s ability to hear us from that distance spoke volumes to his age and power.

  François had returned, and he had Ed with him.

  Gee, Didn’t See That Coming

  Sally and I shared a shrug and stepped from our hiding spot.

  Unsurprisingly, the newcomers headed our way. Even through the trees, I could tell it was a ragtag band, not even remotely resembling Gan’s disciplined troops. If they had any advantage over her men, though, it was their armament. A mishmash of guns – pistols, rifles, a few submachine guns – were pointed in our direction.

  “There is no need for that,” François said from somewhere behind the vanguard.

  The guns were lowered, slightly anyway, and the vampires in the middle parted ways to reveal him – looking smarmy as ever, even if he wasn’t dressed quite as crisply as I’m sure he preferred.

  “Are you certain, sir?” one of the vamps nearest him asked, his tone belaying the fact that he obviously didn’t want to speak up. Yeah, the Draculas had that effect on the rubes. “They smell...”

  “Neutral, I am well aware,” François replied with a dismissive wave. “I am impressed, Freewill,” he said to us as his people approached and started to fan out around us. “Where did you happen upon manticore gland out here?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your scent, or lack thereof. Shall I assume you had friends among that force that appeared, quite conveniently, I might add, at the time of our escape.”

  “We know people,” Sally replied in a non-committal tone.

  “I can see that,” he replied sourly before turning back to me. Gah! Turd wasn’t the only big shit in these woods. “I would hope they too survived. I would like to commandeer them for my mission.”

  “I somehow doubt that’s going to happen. They tend to be a willful bunch.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “Free will is not something the First often worry about.”

  I raised one side of my mouth in a half smile at his double-entendre pun. “Where’s my friend?”

  “Friend? I believe you mean that in the plural.”

  What the...? I sniffed the air again. Ed ... he was definitely close. In fact, if my nose was telling me correctly, he was right in back of the line of vampires who stood guard behind François. The rest, well, I couldn’t have sniffed them out while they were wearing that gland ... except that I did, for at least one of them.

  I glanced at Sally and saw that she realized it too.

  One of our wayward party had insisted on refusing Gan’s scent-masking agent. Maybe she’d known it was made from manticore glands. Ugh! I had a feeling that was one recipe I didn’t want to ask for.

  With a smile, François stepped aside. So, too, did the armed vamps behind him. They revealed Christy and Ed, standing side by side. Christy’s hands were bound in manacles. I didn’t need to get closer to guess they had magic-debuffing runes carved into them. As for why those two hadn’t shouted a warning to us sooner, the reason was blindingly obvious. Dave and Adam stood to either side of them, guns pointed at my friends, and the glazed look in their eyes indicating they were both under compulsion.

  Shit!

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I had meant to ask something a bit more conversational, perhaps, “What is the meaning of this affront?” Instead, it came out sounding more like, “What the fuck, asshole?” What can I say? It’s one of the reasons I never joined the debate team in college.

  “Your flippancy continues to get the better of you, boy,” François replied with a tone that practically dripped icicles. “I cannot begin to fathom why that fool Alexander tolerates your tongue remaining in your mouth.”

  “That fool is your boss,” I pointed out, lame of a comeback as it was.

  “Not so, for the First are equals, or so Alexander would have his fawning minions believe. However, tis all meaningless conjecture, for I would sooner call your trollop my sibling than acknowledge that fool on his obsidian throne.”

  “So what’s the plan? Try to use me as a bartering tool for safe passage? Because that’s not going to work. Your buddy Turd is dead.”

  A greasy smile creased François’s face, making me want to tear the ratty little mustache on his upper lip right off. “Is he now? That is fortuitous indeed. If so, it will take some time for our foes to regroup. There will be meetings of their war council to decide who shall take Turd’s place. The Sasquatch will pull back until that happens. Do I have your friends to thank for this happy event?”

  “Nope, you’re looking at him.”

  François appeared to be doubtful, but he didn’t say anything. He knew firsthand that I had more than one trick up my sleeve, although I’d have bet anything the asshole would have sooner stapled his mouth shut than acknowledge it.

  “Very well,” he said after a moment. “I offer you this, and before you say no, please be aware my terms are nonnegotiable. Any attempt to even discuss them otherwise will result in a most painful death for your friends.”

  “Oh well, in that case, hit me.”

  “My terms are simple, even for a fool such as yourself – unconditional surrender.” François nodded toward one of the other vamps in his honor guard. “Shackle him. Should he make any attempt to remove them or otherwise escape, shoot his friends in the face, starting with the pregnant Magi.”

  A vamp walked over, producing a pair of handcuffs. These weren’t the old magic-dampening sort they liked to use on mages. This was a pair of modern, heavy-duty cuffs. I doubted I’d be breaking free of those anytime soon, at least without Dr. Death’s assistance – assistance that I didn’t plan on calling upon.

  I couldn’t help but notice that the vamp snapping them on likewise appeared to be compelled.

  “Where’d you dig up these guys so quickly?” I asked conversationally, trying to keep things friendly. “Some of your group that managed to escape Turd?”

  “Hardly,” François replied with a disdainful sniff. “Had they been loyalists, they would surely have died trying to rescue me. I was lucky enough to find the remnants of Salem coven, one of the few holdouts against Vehron’s reign. They have proven most useful.”

  “Yeah, speaking of Mr. Destroyer,” I said before I could be shuffled back to my friends, “you do realize this isn’t going to work, right? Marching us north to your stronghold? Alex gave us specific orders to head to Boston to end this creep. When he finds out...”

  “He will not,” François replied, his back to me. “Besides, you are mistaken. We are not marching north.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be checking on covens in...”

  “A ruse, you blathering fool. Nevertheless, you will happy to know that I am allowing you to complete at least part of your mission. You shall indeed reach Boston. I shall see to it personally. As for killing Vehron the Destroyer, you may find him a wee bit more difficult of an opponent than that oaf Turd.�
�

  “You’re giving us an escort?”

  “I don’t think so,” Sally replied from behind me.

  “The strumpet is correct. Imagine my delight upon learning that you foolishly brought the abomination with you.”

  Wait, isn’t that what Vehron kept calling Ed?

  “Mighty Vehron will reward me most handsomely. Imagine it; not only will he have all the knowledge one of the First may offer, but I will also present him with both the Freewill and the one he has been seeking out. My glory shall be limitless.”

  “Wait, you’re joining that douche?” I asked.

  “I prefer to consider it a partnership, but yes.”

  Gunshots sounded from off to the left. They were followed by a roar of rage and then silence. Subtle our little parade was not, but perhaps that was to our advantage. If we got lucky, we might be ambushed, which could give us a chance to escape in the chaos. Or we might be ambushed and all die horrible deaths. At least in that latter case, I wouldn’t have to drown in François’s smarm any longer than was absolutely necessary.

  “That makes no sense. Haven’t you wanted to join the Drac ... err, First Coven since like forever?”

  “Your usage of their common name does not bother me in the least, Freewill. I am beyond such hubris.”

  I sincerely doubted that.

  “But to answer your question, yes. I have longed to ascend to the First. It was my right as an elder. Yet, twice I was denied, both times at the hands of the Wanderer. I had watched eagerly as he lost face. His defeat at Vehron’s hands was an embarrassment the First had not known in centuries. But then he was vindicated, just before the First finally saw reason and gave to me what was rightfully mine. Do you think for one moment I would serve alongside the man who twice made me look the fool?”

  I glanced around at my friends. Sally shrugged. Christy had hung her head and was breathing hard. Obviously, the exertion was catching up to her. Ed appeared in okay shape, but as I glanced his way, he made an up and down motion with his hand, stroking the invisible dick he held. Yeah, that about summed up what François was spewing.

  “As a member of the First,” François continued, in full-on monologue mode, “I was tasked with overseeing the torture of those who had betrayed us to our enemies. In all the chaos following the battle, it was a simple matter to allow one to escape, claiming he had perished at my hands. I sent him to Boston with an offer, one that was accepted gladly.”

  “But why?”

  “Better to rule in Hell than be a slave in Heaven,” he replied simply.

  “Yeah, but you aren’t going to rule. Veh...”

  In a flash, François turned and was in my face. “I am well aware of the situation, fool, as I am aware that I would gladly bend a knee to one who would lay low those who have dared humiliate me. The world is a large place, and Vehron one man. The Cult of Ib will rise again, but in order to do so, even one as powerful as he must acknowledge that it cannot be done alone. I am perfectly willing to be a general in the army that shall burn away our stagnant ways.”

  “And when it is all over,” he continued, “I shall know power beyond what meager crumbs the First afford me and I shall not have to answer to Alexander when I decide to utilize it. If you cannot see that, then I pity you – even more so than I already do.”

  Sight Seeing

  Following François’s spittle-soaked tirade, his minions shoved me back with my friends as he marched on ahead, obviously disgusted with having to lower himself to speak to me.

  Can’t say I was sorry to see him leave. Gave me a chance to take stock of the situation.

  “Are you all right?” I asked Christy.

  She finally looked up. “I’ll make it.”

  “You sure, because you look...”

  “I’m fine,” she replied with a tone that said I really should reconsider that line of questioning.

  “Tom?”

  “He wasn’t there.”

  That was worrisome. “Was there any sign of a struggle?”

  “No,” she replied. “It was all quiet. I think he may have left to come find us.”

  “Not the brightest strategy.”

  “This is Tom we’re talking about,” Ed said from beside her.

  “Let me guess. You ran right into François’s waiting arms?”

  “Bingo. Talk about a small but unpleasant world.”

  “Sorry. Should have warned you he was around, but I thought he’d have hightailed it full speed out of the area.”

  “You should have seen the look on his face when he saw me. Would have thought the fucker had woken up on Christmas morning.”

  “Well,” I replied, “maybe it was just the sight of you running out of the woods wearing a loincloth. Tell me, did you entice him with a ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ line?”

  Ed flipped me off, but then said, “You’re one to talk. What the fuck happened to you two?”

  Oh crap. I almost forgot that Sally and I looked like we’d just been sent back in time in a Terminator movie and only had a moment to divide one hobo’s clothes between the two of us. “It was a rough fight with Turd.”

  “Rough enough that he tore your pants off?”

  “Guess not even Turd can resist the allure of Freewill junk.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t skull-fuck him to death.”

  “Nope, he choked on my massive...”

  “Oh enough of this shit,” Sally cried. “We’re living out a worst case scenario and all you can talk about is your dick. Newsflash. It wasn’t all that impressive.”

  Uh yeah. All at once, the other non-compelled eyes were on me. Well, okay, that was just Christy and Ed, but even so, I felt like I was under the glaring heat of a spotlight.

  I glanced back at Sally, my eyes wide.

  She just shrugged. “Sorry, bucko, you’re on your own.”

  Bitch!

  I tried to laugh off Sally’s comment as a joke as I explained the battle with Turd to my friends. As for my missing pants, describing my clothes ripping as I transformed helped back up that – with maybe an editorial or two about my massive Dr. Death wang refusing to be denied freedom. Sally was even good enough to keep her trap shut for most of it, outside of maybe the occasional guffaw.

  Yeah, that didn’t quite explain her state of undress, but I sort of glossed over that part of the story. Although I got the sense that Ed definitely had a few questions of his own, the implications of my tale seemed to take priority at the moment, thank goodness.

  “So your inner self lied,” Christy stated.

  “I’m not even sure he’s my inner self.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked, a curious eyebrow raised.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Something he said. That he was never a part of me to begin with, that my turning had made him possible.”

  “Could be more lies.”

  “Maybe. I’m pretty sure that cock-knocker wouldn’t know the truth if you shoved it up his ass and lit the fuse.”

  “Way to go on the split personality, Bill,” Ed said.

  “Tell me about it. I mean, I have my quirks, but I never had myself pegged for being a fucking nutcase.”

  “You might not be,” Christy replied.

  “A part of my mind goes rogue and hijacks the whole ship? Yeah, that pretty much counts in my book.”

  “Most people who suffer from split personalities don’t physically transform into monsters.”

  “He wasn’t really a monster,” Sally added. “I mean, claws and fangs yes, but that’s par for the course with vampires. The rest of him, though...”

  She let the statement hang in the air, and Ed threw me a stink-eye that made his body smell like roses in comparison. Oh boy, was this turning out to be an uncomfortable death march or what?

  “Christy has a point,” I said, trying to steer us back on track. “Shit like that is just not normal.”

  “Maybe it’s a Fr
eewill thing,” Ed replied.

  “I was thinking that too.” I shrugged as best I could with my hands cuffed in front of me. Oh well, at least they weren’t in back. I could still scratch my nose, or other parts, if need be. “Problem is, that in itself is fucking terrifying.”

  “You really don’t need to tell us that.”

  “It’s even more so. Don’t forget, Vehron is a Freewill too. What if he has his own rage beast inside of him? I mean, the guy is halfway to Superman as it is. We’re talking World War Hulk here if he decides to fly off the handle. How the fuck do we beat something like that?”

  No answer was forthcoming from my companions. Not too surprising.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and his split personality is a good guy,” Ed offered.

  “Somehow I doubt that. Ugh, I thought being a Freewill had potential to be kind of cool, but if I’d known it came with a side dish of crazy, I’d have...”

  “It might not be that,” Christy said.

  “Huh?”

  She glanced at me, then over my shoulder at Sally real quickly. “I’m not sure yet. Just a thought really. I need some time to mull it over.”

  I glanced at her and sighed. “Take all you need. We have plenty.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The blue morning sky could be seen above. This was one time when I found myself glad of the Sasquatches’ sorcery. The heavy canopy kept us from frying like bugs under a magnifying glass. Sadly, it meant we could continue our trek southwest, even if the going was slow.

  Eventually, the sounds of battle began to fade behind us. After a time, quiet reigned again. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. What I did know was that no Mongolian assassins swooped out of the trees for another miraculous save. Then again, maybe that was for the best.

  As powerful as Gan was, she and her entire entourage would have been easy fodder for François to ensnare. How fucking marvelous would that be? We’d come up here to kill Vehron, and instead would be served on a silver platter with substantial reinforcements for him to add to his growing fan base. Yeah, great fucking plan this was turning out to be.

  “Halt!” François called out from somewhere ahead of us. I glanced up, trying to see past our guards – Adam and Dave were still about as mind-fucked as one could get – and saw what I thought to be a clearing up ahead.