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

by Rick Gualtieri

  The door to my apartment opened and the little princess strolled in like she owned the place. She glanced around, noticed Tom, then proceeded to ignore him and walk toward me.

  “Nice of you to join us,” I said.

  “I am happy to see you too, my love.”

  Ugh! I so needed to make her understand when I was being sarcastic. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Listen, we’ve been discussing this plan all night, going over the details, et cetera, and I still think it’s a long shot.”

  “Indeed it is. In fact, I would argue that, were our destinies not bound for greater things, the chances of us suffering horribly at the hands of our enemies would be a near certainty.”

  “I can see why your people follow you. You have quite the way with pep talks.”

  If Gan understood I was making fun of her, she didn’t show it. Instead, she walked to the middle of the room. “Gather your belongings, for it is time to depart.”

  “We were just discussing that,” Veronica said sleepily.

  “Yeah,” I added. “There’s the problem of Alex. If prior campaigns are any indication, he has this place covered. So, if we’re going to make a run for it, we need to figure out a way...”

  “He does not,” Gan stated flatly.

  “Huh?”

  All eyes in the room, those who were still awake anyway, stopped and turned toward us.

  “That is why I left,” she continued. “I wished to make contact with those loyal to me to discuss our forthcoming plans.”

  “What’s this have to do with Alex’s people taking the night off?”

  “Those plans, if I may be allowed to continue, my darling, included sending my assassins to silence any whose eyes might be turned our way.”

  “Of course they did,” Sally commented.

  “Surprisingly, they found none.”

  “Maybe they missed them,” Christy said.

  “Yeah,” Meg added. “I mean, we’re dealing with Alexander the Great here. He’s not exactly a novice.”

  Gan sighed painfully, as if she was dealing with a group of children ... like her, but far stupider. “We are not dealing with Lord Alexander, witch. To think he would take it upon himself to personally conduct surveillance is the height of both arrogance and foolishness. As for the agents of the First, I am well versed in their tactics and protocols.”

  “Oh, like what?”

  “Like the fact that his people did not raid this place during my absence.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “Indeed. I was fully expecting it, hence why I stationed warriors in the adjacent buildings, ready to ambush them.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Get back to this raid part.”

  “Protocol dictates that this entire building be under constant surveillance, both physical and electronic.”

  “You mean this place is bugged?”

  “From top to bottom, I can assure you.”

  “Hold on,” Sally said. “So if you knew this, then how come you didn’t warn us not to flap our lips about plans and shit?”

  “Flap your lips?” Gan asked slowly. “Quite the interesting term of expression. But to answer your question, whore, I would tell you to look toward the witch.”

  “My sisters and I have wards up all over,” Christy explained. “They’re meant to discourage outside spying in a variety of ways.”

  “Indeed, rendering electronic means unreliable at best. However, the First would still have many eyes upon this place. Surely they would have noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Such as you coming and going during daylight hours?” I asked.

  “I was counting on it.”

  “Why?” Sheila asked. “I thought you were helping us.”

  “Indeed I am. Agents of the First operate under a great deal of autonomy during times of war such as this. Their orders would be to observe or follow, but also to gather intelligence.”

  “Which they’d then report to their superiors,” Sheila surmised.

  “In theory, yes. In practice, it is somewhat different. The First are intolerant of failure, but they also frown quite heavily on inaccurate information. My presence would raise their suspicions, but they would be hesitant to report in for further instruction before they knew more. It would make them look weak. Hence, why I fully expected this place to be infiltrated by now.”

  “But it hasn’t been,” I said.

  Christy crossed her arms defiantly. “My wards would have warned us.”

  “And what of it?” Gan asked. “You are under a state of truce with Alexander. His people would have acted under such pretense. Had you reacted against them with force, the fault would be on your heads. But this discussion is entirely pointless now. It did not occur, nor have my men found any trace that they were ever here to begin with.”

  “Maybe protocol changed,” Sally said.

  “Even if it did, my people are trained to adapt. I can assure you, they have scoured all buildings within a three-block radius of this one.”

  I turned to my roommate and commented, “As if the neighbors probably didn’t already hate us.”

  “What about the sewers?”

  Sally’s question received a pained sigh in return from Gan as if it were so obvious to not even be worth a response.

  “So what does that mean?” Sheila asked.

  At that, Gan’s shell of arrogance actually began to crack a bit. She was silent for a moment, and when she finally did answer, something entirely alien was in her voice – indecision. “I do not know.”

  Northern Exposure

  Gan explained that she was essentially in the dark. She had to be extra careful with regard to her normal contacts both within Boston and other seats of power so as to not tip off anyone that she was back. Even with her precautions, though, she should have still had enough clout to have eyes and ears just about everywhere, but for some reason, the flow of information had become little more than a trickle.

  Something was up within the vampire hierarchy, but she didn’t know what and was hesitant to push further and potentially reveal herself.

  That was odd. Hell, it made me half-tempted to call Boston and outright ask Colin how things were going.

  Mind you, I somehow resisted the urge.

  Whatever the case, a gift horse had been presented to us and, rather than sit around and debate it, we decided to make use of it.

  We were free and clear to pursue our plan with the Feet. There was no telling how long this window of opportunity would remain open, so we needed to act now.

  Thank goodness, too. I’d felt that anger inside of me recede once we started discussing an actual plan, but it was still there. It was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. If it was all the same to anyone else, I’d prefer it happen while we were surrounded by creatures that deserved a punch in the face.

  Of course, that still left open the logistics of how to get there. I, for one, didn’t relish another weeklong road trip to the frozen north. There was also the problem of where to go. Sure, we’d been there once, but it’s not like I had kept the GPS coordinates handy. There were some waypoints you remembered and some you prayed to forget. Besides, past a certain point, one big cluster of frozen trees looked like the next.

  Thankfully, Gan’s indecision with regard to the Dracs didn’t last long, because when I mentioned these concerns to her, she laughed as if it were one of the stupidest things she’d ever heard.

  “The prior gathering at the Alma stronghold was made with certain concessions in mind, beloved,” she said, a grin upon her face as if she thought my ignorance just the cutest thing. “At the time, these concessions were agreed upon because peace was still an option. However, that time is passed. Though our intentions are to reforge that peace and we will be approaching them under a flag of truce, we are still at war. Thus, a show of strength will be far more appropr
iate.”

  I considered what we had at our disposal. Icon and Freewill – check. A coven of witches, also not bad. And whatever Gan was, aka a new player at the table. On paper, it was a pretty formidable combination, enough to probably intimidate a small handful of Sasquatches. An army of them, though? Yeah, I had a feeling begging for our lives might be more conducive to our continued survival.

  However, as with a great many things, I assumed wrong.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I had thought Gan was talking about our immediate group when she meant a show of strength. Maybe we’d drive up and proclaim ourselves the crème de la crème of the vampire nation. Much posturing would then ensue.

  I had to admit, her plan of flying us up in a trio of unmarked Blackhawk helicopters was a shitload better than what I had in mind.

  Faster, too.

  Don’t get me wrong. The trip was still well over a day’s journey with multiple refueling stops, but Gan’s people seemed to have it handled. There wasn’t much to do except watch the scenery below as we flew north.

  I, of course, got stuck on a chopper with Gan. There was no escaping that fate. I wasn’t in any position to demand different accommodations. However, I weaseled some company in with us to make sure she didn’t try to book us membership in the mile-high club, especially since our conveyances had been custom retrofitted with luxury amenities, including a divider between the passengers and cockpit.

  It made sense to bring Sheila along on our chopper. As the lynchpin upon which this insane plan hinged, there was no doubt she could glean intelligence from Gan. Sally, though no fan of our diminutive host, was even less a fan of being the third wheel between Tom and Christy. She insisted on joining us, citing an aversion to vomiting for the entire ride up. Christy’s coven took the third chopper.

  If it weren’t for the jet-black paint jobs and twin machine guns mounted on either side, our rides could’ve been mistaken for some millionaire’s playthings. Hell, there was even a wet bar stocked with blood in ours. Gan definitely didn’t believe in suffering for the cause.

  Unfortunately, her presence negated any chance of serious conversation. Pity, because I had a feeling that there were a lot of things in need of saying between Sally, Sheila, and me. While we’d been in a holding pattern, it had been easy to pretend that there was more time or that someone needed space. Now that we were on the move, though, the concept of there being a tomorrow in which to do these things became uncertain. Everything did. A plan like this could set us down the path to victory, but it could just as easily go tits up.

  Knowing my luck, I had the feeling that our lives were about to get interesting again.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “I don’t suppose these things come standard with a bathroom?”

  “I think that’s the next model up,” Sheila said to me with a smirk. “The budget didn’t allow it.”

  “It’s your own fucking fault,” Sally added, far less generously. “You should have gone when we stopped to gas up.”

  “I didn’t have to go then.”

  “Well, judging from the scenery below,” she replied, glancing out the window, “your choices are gonna be a snowbank, a rock, or some trees. Sorry to say, but we seem to have left the land of Tim Horton’s behind.”

  “Just so long as it’s not a maple tree,” I groused, drawing a chuckle from her.

  Sheila glanced back and forth between us, obviously not in on the joke.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  I already knew the chances of us running into anything resembling civilization were slim. Our last refueling stop had been the final one ahead of reaching our destination. We’d already donned cold weather gear, although, since it had come courtesy of Gan, we all looked less like backpackers and more like a group of yak herders.

  Oh well, at least this time the fur coat I was wearing didn’t seem to be lined with explosives. I’d take my victories where I could get them.

  Thankfully, we weren’t going in completely cold, minus the weather maybe. Gan, in typical fashion, had nominated some of her people to be cannon fodder in advance. Showing up in the sacred woods of the Sasquatches uninvited was asking for trouble. So, she explained, she had some of her emissaries approach ahead of time under a totem of truce, as she put it. Of the dozen she’d sent in, one had actually returned and radioed back that we were expected.

  She seemed to consider this a favorable outcome. Though she could now tolerate daylight with ease, it had done nothing to give her anything even remotely resembling a sunny disposition.

  “I was correct,” she said as we neared the landing site. “The change in Alma leadership you forced upon them, my love, has opened a small window of opportunity. They are willing to hear us out. The presence of the Shining One will be the catalyst that gains us entry.” She turned to Sheila. “You will be at the forefront of our party, sword out and raised high.”

  “Won’t that come across as aggressive?” Sheila asked.

  “Yes, but a show of strength is necessary here.”

  “Okay,” I said. “So what about us? I assume this thing comes equipped with a weapons locker.”

  “Indeed it does,” Gan replied.

  “But we won’t be using it,” Sally added.

  “Huh? What do you mean by that? She just said a show of strength...”

  “By the Icon,” she explained. “She’s the big cheese of this show. The rest of us need to tuck our tails between our legs and look like our asses have been kicked.”

  “In a sense,” Gan said. “We are to follow in supplication. Though not prisoners, we must be unarmed and carrying traditional Alma tokens of peace. A show of strength on the Shining One’s part will be met with respect. One on ours will be...”

  I reached up and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Let me guess – will be met with a lot more strength than we can handle.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps?”

  Rather than answer, she said, “The witches are considered a neutral party. So long as they appear aloof to our plight, they will be treated respectfully in their role as witnesses to this event.”

  “Okay,” I replied, resigning myself to whatever unpleasantness was ahead. “I guess that’s everyone. I suppose we can suck up a bit of humility if it’ll get us what we need.”

  “No, that’s not everyone,” Sally said with a sigh. “You’re forgetting the meatsack.”

  “Good point. The Feet don’t particularly like humans, so I guess he’s with us.”

  “Except he’s not human,” she pointed out. “The Feet smell even better than us.”

  “I might debate that.”

  “With their noses, shit for brains.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Don’t think for a second they aren’t going to notice he doesn’t smell like a person. Hell, he doesn’t smell like anything. They aren’t going to like that, especially since I’m willing to bet they’re well versed with that tactic your fiancée here used when we were trying to get to Boston.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “She is not my...”

  “Your whore is correct,” Gan said. “The human will...”

  Sally leaned forward, quick as a snake, and grabbed her by the throat. “I am getting really tired of that.”

  Sheila’s eyes widened at the attack, and a white glow began to emanate from her.

  Oh shit! If she went full spotlight mode in these close quarters, we wouldn’t have to worry about the Feet killing us.

  “It’s cool,” I said to her, lifting my hands in a placating manner. “They ... err ... play like this all the time.” I glanced over and gritted my teeth. “Isn’t that right, Sally?”

  Gan, for her part, didn’t seem overly concerned that she had a clawed hand wrapped around her neck. In fact, she was so unconcerned, she slowly reached up, grabbed Sally’s wrist, and pulled her off with seemingly no effort.

  Sally’s eyes widened ever so sligh
tly. She no doubt remembered that, despite Gan’s size, she was on the order of two and a half centuries older.

  Double shit.

  “That’s enough, all of you!” I said, my voice lowering a full octave until it barely resembled mine at all. With a small sense of horror, I realized I sounded like Dr. Death during those moments when we had conversed in my head. I quickly cleared my throat, pretending to cough. “Sorry, frog in my throat. Anyway, that’s more than enough.”

  “You,” I said to Gan, “enough with the whore shit. Her name is Sally.” I turned to Sally. “You, no attacking our gracious host.” And then, finally, to Sheila, “And you, no killing us before the Sasquatches get a chance.”

  Geneva Convention 2.0

  Though Gan stopped far short of apologizing, she did throw an “As you wish, beloved” at me, serving to both acquiesce to my demands and skeeve me out.

  The other two were a bit more cooperative. They knew the stakes at play and the big risk we were running to even have a shot at it.

  Unfortunately, there was one risk I wasn’t aware of until we had landed and it was far too late.

  “What the ever living fuck?”

  “As I told you, beloved, we are expected to present the Alma with the traditional totem of peace to show our sincerity.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but why not just a white flag?”

  “The Alma neither utilize nor acknowledge flags.”

  “But they fucking acknowledge dead skunks?”

  “It is their way,” Gan replied as if she were holding a bouquet of flowers instead of a stinking rodent corpse.

  Of course, to the Feet – ripe fuckers that they were – maybe a dead skunk was the equivalent of a dozen roses, or perhaps a stick of deodorant. “Okay, fine, but what about the rest?”

  “Only the three of us represent the nation that is at war with the Alma. The others are here as guests.”

  “Guests,” Sheila echoed from several steps away, “that will be doing their best to march upwind of you.”

  She wasn’t the only one. Everyone else, outside of Gan’s people, were giving us a wide berth, too.