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

by Rick Gualtieri

  But hey, at least they left us some snacks. The frozen corpse of a hiker was propped up in one corner and the table was covered in bowls ... some of them containing nuts; others full of things that still wriggled.

  “Brings back the memories, eh?” I asked Tom.

  He flipped me the middle finger.

  Sheila looked at us quizzically from across the table, and I explained how we’d tricked him into thinking he’d been zombified.

  It was all we could do. The non-witches, especially Sheila, had been relegated to the center of the room while Christy and her coven hastily etched sigils into the four corners of the hut.

  “There. We should have some privacy now.”

  “Are you sure?” Sally asked.

  “Only one way to find out,” Meg replied before shouting, “Hey, Bill! When you finally kill that fucking Cunt, make sure it hurts!”

  What the...?! I stood up. “Are you fucking insane?”

  She raised her hand to her ear with a grin. “I guess not.”

  Sally poked me in the side. “I like her.”

  “You would. Oh, by the way, Gan, sorry for interrupting you back there.”

  “While I have no desire to hide my many victories over the Alma, perhaps it is for the best. The machinations of Ib are our business to deal with. The Alma, being our eternal enemies, are best left in the dark.” She waved a hand like it was nothing and then scooted over closer to me.

  I took that as my cue to get up and pace. “Yeah, learning that an army of vamps with much more sunny dispositions than usual was in the works could really throw a monkey wrench into our talks.”

  “I see what you did just there,” Kelly said to me with a smile.

  “Then you’re going to love this, because up next, we need to discuss the six-hundred-pound gorilla in the room.”

  “I’m pretty sure most of them weigh more than that.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want to test that by having any of them sit on me,” Tom said. “The way that one said I smelled good kinda creeped me out.”

  “Sorry, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “But since you’re basically the magical equivalent of a RealDoll now, I think we should keep that possibility on the table as a negotiating chip.”

  Tom’s eyes opened wide in horror. Dead, alive, or somewhere in between, he was just too easy.

  “What I really meant was...”

  “Let me guess,” Meg interrupted. “The big problem is that the leader of these fuckers ... sorry, Christy, I mean the leader of the Forest Folk has a name that’s gonna be almost impossible to negotiate a peace against without laughing at.”

  Sheila nodded. “My power can instill a near stupid level of confidence in me, but this is completely different. Even I’m not sure about that one.”

  “It’s just a word,” Sally said. “Get over it.”

  “I know it’s just a word, but it’s...”

  “The nuclear option?” I offered.

  “Yes!” Sheila replied, throwing her hands up.

  “I do not see the issue,” Gan said. “It is simply a translation from one inelegant language to another.”

  “Trust me, I get it,” I replied. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of loose with my tongue.”

  “Pretty sure it’s not just you,” Tom added.

  “Yes, I know. But what I mean is, in a world of lots of fucks to give, his name just happens to be the one under glass that you only break in case of fire. In other words, only if you really really mean it.”

  “Gee,” Sally said with mock concern, “and here I had you pegged as someone who definitely had a friend named Mike Hunt.”

  “Fuck you, cunt.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  As a trio of Sasquatch escorts led us to where the talks would take place, I considered the ridiculousness of the situation. Here we were, trying to stave off the end of the world, and yet our immediate concern was not losing it and laughing at a giant gorilla with a stupid name.

  Ah yes, life was strange some days.

  “Wow,” Sheila said as we came to the hollow, at the bottom of which lay a large table that appeared to have been grown more than built.

  “You should have seen it last time,” I replied, noting how empty it was.

  “Yeah,” Tom remarked. “Bill almost punched out a snack cart vendor.”

  I flashed him a dirty look. Not one of my finer moments. Still, it was amazing how different it seemed now. Before, it had been noisy, full of all sorts of oddball life. In a way, it had felt sort of like the paranormal equivalent of Woodstock, up until the point where the crowd had turned on me.

  Now, though, it had a sort of peaceful quality to it. I could imagine taking a hike in the woods and stumbling upon this place. It would seem like something out of a fairy tale, at least until you realized this was sacred Bigfoot ground and they ripped off your arms for trespassing.

  Their leader was already seated at one end, with a couple of other Sasquatches around him.

  “Is Grulg one of them?” I asked Sally in a hushed whisper.

  “Not as far as I can tell.”

  “These things need name tags.”

  “You’d just piss yourself laughing.”

  “Yeah,” I mused, “you’re probably right.”

  We were led down to the table. There, one of the Sasquatches pointed out a raised seat in the center. “Your place, Silver Eyes.”

  “Congrats,” I said to her. “You get to play the role of the big glowing ball of death this time.”

  “What?” she asked, eyes wide.

  “Inside joke. Good luck; you’ll do fine.”

  I flashed her a thumbs up and she smiled, albeit there was uncertainty behind it. Jeez, put that girl in a fight and she was all kick-ass and take names. Ask her to look one giant ape with a stupid fucking name in the eye, though, and suddenly there was an issue.

  “T’lunta and mate sit there,” one of the beasts snarled. I couldn’t help but notice its tone was ever so slightly less respectful toward us.

  Gan immediately stepped forward – presumptuous little minx – but the squatch held up a hand. “No! Table only for T’lunta.” He spat a hock of nastiness on the ground at her feet. “You and witches sit there.”

  “I am not one of them,” she replied indignantly. “I am here in the capacity of...”

  “Not care. Sit.”

  “She’s ... my advisor.” I didn’t want Gan’s feathers to get ruffled and for her to start any fights we couldn’t win. More importantly, she knew what the fuck she was doing. Last time I was here, I’d had to sit at the head of the table, but it had originally been as a figurehead position. The reason was simple: I wasn’t a fucking diplomat! I doubt I’d be able to even tell the parchment that stupid accord was written on apart from something I’d wiped my ass with.

  The big ape snarled at me. “She advise from there, then.” He pointed a large finger at the spot right next to Christy.

  I glanced over at Cunt, hoping maybe he’d say something, but he was busy with important matters involving an itch on his ass. Finally, I nodded. “It’s okay, Gan. It’s not like there’s a crowd to shout over if I need you.”

  “As you wish,” she replied curtly. Glad to see she wasn’t letting a little thing like ego get in the way. Just to add a little extra oomph to her pouting, though, she left a wide gap between her and Christy when she finally sat down. Oh yeah, she might claim to be three hundred years old, but she had the attitude of a preteen down to a science.

  Christy, for her part, opened her bag and placed Decker’s skull down between her and Gan. Just great. He’d been quiet on the walk over. I think Christy had whammied him into silence, but even so, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with his eye sockets looking my way.

  Finally, I turned to Sally. “Shall we?”

  “Can I get a proper introduction, or should I just carry your laundry for you?”

  “Oh,
sorry.” I turned to our escort, albeit not before allowing myself a small grin. “This is Sally. She’s my partner.”

  The beast cocked its head to the side, making it possibly look even stupider. “Part Ner?”

  “Yeah, she’s not my mate.”

  “Nor am I applying for the position,” she added, because why not kick me in the balls when I was trying to help her?

  I glanced up and saw Sheila watching us intently. Hopefully, she found as much amusement in this as our hosts.

  The squatch shrugged. “Okay. Sit with servant.”

  “She’s not my servant. She’s my partner. It means equal.”

  “She female T’lunta.”

  “So?”

  The Sasquatch turned to his side of the table and grunted a few times. After a moment, they all burst into laughter. Not really a confidence builder, I might add.

  When they were finished, Cunt spoke up. “T’lunta funny. Now sit.”

  “Yeah, but...”

  “SIT!”

  I planted my ass firmly in my chair. After a beat, Sally slid in and took the seat next to mine.

  I leaned over to her. “I’m assuming that women’s suffrage hasn’t quite caught on here yet.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Just try not to start a war.” She glared at me. “I meant another war ... or a worse war.”

  Oh yeah, we were off to a great start.

  A Piece of Peace Take Two

  “Let’s see if I get this right,” Sheila said with a nervous chuckle.

  I took some slight amusement at her discomfort. In a way, it was also nice to see. Though Icons and vamps were like oil and water, it seemed the transformation into one or the other had at least one thing in common: a change in attitude. The majority of vamps I knew were predators. Most of them didn’t even try to maintain their humanity. For Icons, however, the change was a bit more positive, but a change nevertheless. Seeing her nervous like this reminded me of the old her, the one I’d fawned over for three years.

  Being members of warring species, I’d thought the rift between us too wide to cross. Now, however, seeing her vulnerable like this, I began to wonder if perhaps I hadn’t been too hasty in my judgment.

  “We, the gathered, are here to bear witness...” she began.

  I smiled. They were the same words that had kicked off the last summit. Although back then they had been mind-beamed into us all by some glowing ball of magical energy that served as mediator, not to mention judge, jury, and executioner. All in all, I considered our current host to be a considerable upgrade.

  Of course, far cuter than a floating globe of death or not, the official opening statement was still boring as fuck. Goddamn, I so hated ceremony. Why couldn’t we just get on with it?

  “...the leader of the Northern Tribes...” Sheila paused for a moment, composing herself. “Big C.”

  The Sasquatch leader looked up at that. “Huh?”

  It had been our little compromise back in the hut. She just wasn’t comfortable saying his name, at least without dissolving into giggles like she was a little girl caught swearing. It was kind of cute, but ultimately not the best thing to do during life or death negotiations.

  “What say?” he asked.

  “My apologies,” she replied as we’d rehearsed. “Among the Silver Eyes there is a tradition to honor great warriors. We give them a nickname of respect that all will tremble before. You, mighty ... Big C,” she sputtered, almost losing it for a moment. “I was so impressed upon our meeting, that I thought to convey such an honor upon you. I am sorry if I was wrong, though. I will stop...”

  “No!” the Sasquatch roared, then softened its voice, as much as it could anyway. “Cunt is mighty warrior. Mighty Cunt indeed.”

  Oh crap, I could see the corners of her lips trembling.

  “You honor me, Silver Eyes.”

  She turned to me, panic on her face as she struggled to keep from laughing. Oh crap. What to do?

  Oh, wait. What I did best ... play the part of the asshole.

  I pounded on the table. “All right, enough of this shit. Let’s move on!”

  The Sasquatches at the other end all glared at me. Definitely a social faux pas on my part and probably not a great thing to do while trying to bargain for peace, but it worked. The impending bout of laughter fell off of Sheila’s face and she flashed me a look of gratitude before simply stating, “I similarly welcome, representing the vampire nation, the reborn Freewill Bill Ryder.”

  “HAH!” the Bigfoot leader shouted, smashing his fist into the table much as I’d done, if a lot more effectively. “No honor for you from Silver Eyes!”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but Sally silenced me with an elbow to the side.

  “Don’t do it,” she warned. “This is a good thing.”

  Once I gave it a moment’s thought, I realized she was right. Though our word game was meant to keep the inappropriate giggles to a bare minimum, by doing so, Sheila had inadvertently proven her neutrality to the Feet, maybe even convinced them she leaned slightly in their favor. If the stupid shit monkeys thought she was on their side, it could make these negotiations much easier.

  “That will be enough,” Sheila said, moving smoothly into the next part of her role. “These are to be respectful negotiations.”

  Hah! That was a good one.

  To help emphasize her point, she drew her sword. It flashed brilliantly, lighting up the hollow. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she was putting a little extra oomph into it just for show. Regardless, she laid it down on the table. “I need not remind either side that, as mediator here, it is my duty to both move these negotiations forward and enforce that the dictates of neutrality remain in place. Any who violate those dictates will be dealt with swiftly and with finality.”

  That last part was the big question. I wasn’t too worried about myself or Sally. The worst we would probably do was some verbal sparring, something that fell somewhat short of an executable offense. The other side was far more likely to let their fists do the talking, the problem being that none of us – not even Gan – had any idea whether Sheila’s powers would be effective against them.

  All we could do was hope for the best and that they didn’t call our bluff.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Big C calls your bluff, stupid T’lunta!”

  I couldn’t help but notice the big ape had adopted his new honorific. It didn’t make him sound any less stupid, but at least it kept us from cracking up every time he talked in third person.

  “There is no deception here,” Sally said. “All Bill was saying was that there have been losses on both sides. It’s a war. That’s common sense.”

  The Sasquatch on Big C’s right spoke up. I guessed he was an advisor, but so far, most of his advising had been to remind me of how weak and stupid I was. “Freewill T’lunta lets his mate speak for him. What else he let her do?”

  “He’s gonna let me kick your ass if you piss me off.”

  Did I say the Feet were the only ones we’d have to worry about threatening violence? Silly me.

  I stood up and placed a hand on Sally’s shoulder, partially as a show of support, but mostly to keep her from leaping across the table and trying to rip off any Sasquatch junk. “For the last time, she is my partner, my equal. I would ask you to respect that our ways are different than yours.”

  “Go, Bill!” Tom shouted from the sidelines. “Show these cocksuckers you’re a badass Susan B. Anthony motherfucker.”

  I almost had to laugh. Who’d have thought I would ever find myself the voice of reason in a place like this? My normal method of debating consisted of how big my dick was and how badly I was gonna bang someone’s mom with it. Yet here I was, arguing about women’s equality with Sasquatch. What a fucking world we lived in.

  Sheila stood and turned to the Feet. “I would remind you that I am also a female. So if we could please acknowledge everyone at the table as
having a valid...”

  “Not female,” Big C said dismissively. “Silver Eyes. Mighty warrior. You fight T’lunta, not sit back and let cubs suckle you.”

  There came a snort from my side. It was really not the time to let Sally’s catty bitch side out to play. Sheila, for her part, stared at the Feet with her mouth open and her face rapidly reddening.

  “I’ll have you know,” I said, trying to help, “she looks really good in a skirt.”

  And just like that, her aura flared up around her as she turned to glare at me – expanding until it was so close I could have fried my arm off had I reached out.

  “Um, well you do,” I added sheepishly.

  “If you were the last virile man on earth, you’d still find a way to die alone,” Sally muttered with an eye-roll.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Three hours later, we’d finally managed to establish that girls were good and war was bad for both sides. Jesus fucking Christ! At least the last time I’d been here, I had the option of zoning out and letting the real diplomats do their job. At this point, if someone wheeled in a barrel of shoe polish, I’d have gladly drunk it all just to make the boring go away.

  Fuck me, but I almost wished Ed was here taking a shit under one of their sacred trees again. I was half tempted to call for a break just to do it myself. Ritual combat would probably get every bone in my body broken, but it was still debatable as to whether that might be the lesser torture.

  It seemed the Feet wanted to argue with us at every turn. If it weren’t for the fact that it would come back to bite me in the face even harder, I would have said, “Fuck it. You win. We surrender” just to get us there faster.

  Finally, right before we’d need to break for dawn, requiring us to wait here another day only to start right the fuck over, I saw a potential opening. Thank goodness, too, because daylight was sounding mighty tempting.

  “Tribes not aggressors here,” Big C said, coming to the end of some long story about how we’d been mean to them for the last several thousand years. “Sought to respect great Humbaba and the peace he set. T’lunta spit upon that. Hand of friendship offered, but then Freewill T’lunta kill ceremonial bride.”