The Tome of Bill (Book 6): Half A Prayer

by Gualtieri, Rick

  “Sir, we have already sealed...”

  Alex did nothing as way of response. His expression didn’t change. He didn’t blink. He didn’t compel the guard to rip out his own intestines and hang himself with them. All he did was continue looking at the vamp he’d addressed.

  It took less than two seconds for the guard’s nerve to break. “Yes, sir!” He quickly unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped through. A few more seconds passed and he reemerged with Sally in tow. She’d obviously been given a chance to clean up and had made good use of it. Her freshly washed hair shined. She wore light makeup, but needed no more to stand out in a crowd. She strode confidently toward where the Draculas sat, wearing a red dress that made even Theodora look like a frump in comparison. All of that would have been fabulous except for the fact that she didn’t give our group a second glance upon entering.

  Sheila stepped to my side. “Did something happen to your friend?”

  “Not now,” I warned. I would have loved to have spilled my guts, but there was no way to do so without being overheard. Besides, Alex had made it plainly clear what he expected of me if I wanted my friends to live to see tomorrow.

  At least I wasn’t the only one dismayed by this. James’s face wore a mildly perplexed look, but I knew it was just a mask. Behind it, his mind no doubt was racing a mile a minute.

  Sally stopped at his chair, then leaned down to give him a soft peck on the cheek - the look on her face ever so slightly more intense than that of someone greeting an old buddy. Okay, that was interesting. How badly had Alex scrambled her brains anyway?

  James opened his mouth to say something, but right on cue, Alex interrupted him.

  “My dear, if you will.” He indicated a spot behind them where an empty chair seemed almost to materialize as the current occupant quickly vacated. “There will be time enough for pleasantries later.”

  Theodora, for her part, looked incensed. On the far side of Alex, Yehoshua stared at her, his expression calm - almost as if he were trying to impart his demeanor to her through empathy. If so, she wasn’t having any of it.

  “This is unacceptable,” she said, apparently forgetting all pretense of presenting a united front. “I demand to know what has transpired. This matter was to be judged by the First and therefore...”

  “And therefore, it shall be.” Alex’s tone was enough to cause the temperature in the room to plummet. “The accused stand before us. We shall try them and cast judgment as we will, but I say she is not one of them. Now sit down.”

  And just like that, the gauntlet was thrown. Theodora looked to her fellow Draculas, but nearly all of them turned away, none of them willing to stand against Alex. Even Yehoshua acquiesced, making a gesture that she should take her seat.

  With a growl, she spun and sat. Her eyes faced forward and momentarily met mine and let me just say this was one chick who was fucking pissed.

  I would have almost felt bad for her had it not been for the fact that she was up there while we were down here on trial for our lives. Yeah, her pride could go fuck itself with a rusty meat hook.

  Alex waited a beat, then stood, a hush falling over the crowd as he did so.

  I couldn’t help but notice that, whether subconsciously or not, my friends had all gathered closer around me. A shimmering white glow appeared in my periphery and the skin on my cheek sizzled.

  “Ouch.”

  “Sorry,” Sheila said, backing up a step.

  I turned my head and smiled to let her know it was all right. In a stressful situation like this, one couldn’t be blamed for letting their power flare up a bit. I remembered that she’d done the same earlier too, when they’d first marched her in. Whatever the manacles she wore were made of, they apparently served a different purpose than Christy’s. If she still had access to her protective aura, then maybe...

  “Allies, friends, and children,” Alex started.

  Oh great, it was going to be one of those speeches.

  “You all know of the hardships we have faced and shall continue to face in our struggle against our enemies. They are strong, well supplied, and resolute. Yet we have met them on the field of battle time and time again, unyielding in our resolve. Now, though, we face dark days indeed. An enemy from the past has awoken, threatening our stability from within...”

  Tom glanced over and gave me a pained look. I couldn’t disagree. I hoped they planned to hand out snow shovels to all the guests because the shit was getting deep now.

  “...enemies at our gates...”

  Ed stepped over to us, trying desperately not to crack a smile at the pomposity on display.

  “...destroy our way of life and derail our destiny...”

  Christy let out a sigh, which I had a feeling was directed at us.

  “...betrayed by those who we once counted as our most trusted...”

  Finally, I turned to Sheila and the smile on my face died as I immediately felt like an ass. Our eyes met and, in hers, I saw the same strength and determination I’d seen during prior times, but now there was some sadness as well. Where my roommates and I were determined to flip off the powers that be until the very end, she took this with deadly seriousness, taking stock of our situation and finding it pretty damn grim.

  The reality of what Alex had said finally hit me. I had a shot here, and so did my friends if I played ball. But they weren’t about to let her walk out of here alive and she knew it.

  “How do you plead, Freewill?”

  Huh? Realization hit that the question had been directed my way. A part of me, an overwhelming part, wanted to make some comment suggesting what he could do with my dick, but I couldn’t - not without my friends paying the price.

  Almost as if reading my mind, Alex shifted ever so slightly to his right, revealing Sally seated behind him. She was actually filing her nails...the bitch. Amazingly enough, though, the sight brought a smile to my face and I knew I had no choice in the matter.

  “Guilty.”

  The Peanut Gallery

  Apparently, Tom, who I’d had a chance to bring up to speed, and Alex - AKA the douche holding my balls to the fire - were the only two unsurprised with my plea.

  As for the rest of the crowd, I might as well have told them I’d just taken a shit on the buffet table right before a blind taste test. Shock was plainly visible on several faces, including a few of the Draculas - albeit not James’s or Theodora’s. I knew James was a smart fellow. I’d have been surprised to all hell if he hadn’t surmised that Sally wasn’t acting on her own accord. Theodora, well, she’d either figured it out too or just didn’t give a shit. It was always hard to tell with women.

  “What are you doing?” Sheila hissed.

  “Standing with you.” It was the truth too. Even had Alex not been pulling my strings, there was no way I was letting her go down by herself.

  “I was going to say not guilty.”

  “You can claim to be Napoleon if you want, but I don’t think this bunch is going to buy that either.”

  “Good point.”

  The crowd began to get rowdy and drowned out any further discourse we may have had amongst ourselves.

  “Traitor!”

  “We believed in you.”

  “Death to the false savior!”

  Oh, for Christ’s sake. Was nearly everyone here a fucking moron?

  I looked up and met Alex’s gaze. Smug satisfaction practically oozed out of every pore. He knew he had me in his back pocket. Even if he let my friends go, there was still Sally. No matter how badly he’d scrambled her memory, making her forget everything about me, he knew I wouldn’t jeopardize her. It was the price I paid for not becoming like the rest of them - for not becoming a monster.

  That didn’t even take into account Sheila yet.

  I’d been trying my damnedest to get over her ever since my run-in with Robert and subsequent transfer to Pandora Coven - trying to accept that she and I were a fantasy that could never be.

  In the here and now, though, she st
ood right beside me and I could only barely concentrate on the very real danger around us, despite knowing I really needed to.

  In short, I was living out my own twisted version of Sophie’s Choice. I could choose my friends and let Sheila die. The very thought made me want to vomit. The problem was, I could choose her and then we’d all die. The world would probably soon follow, although at that point, I’m sure none of us would give two shits.

  Fuck!

  There had to be something I could do, but what? Becoming Alex’s fall guy while allowing him to execute Sheila would be damning myself to the darkness I fought so hard against. Letting my friends die because I was a lovesick loser wasn’t any better. Either way you looked at it, I was...

  “Stop!”

  My head spun toward Sheila as the noise in the room immediately ground to a halt. “What are you...”

  She raised a finger to my lips, the glow around her momentarily dying down to nothing. “Promise me you’ll find a way to stop this,” she whispered.

  “This? But...”

  “All of this,” she clarified before turning away.

  I immediately understood that she wasn’t talking about the trial, but the world and what was happening to it.

  “Wait...” But she was already speaking, drowning out my pathetic protest.

  “The Freewill you have all put your faith in is a fool.”

  Huh? I was?

  “I manipulated him, enticed him, made him my plaything...”

  She had?

  “All for the purpose of undermining you, the enemies of mankind.”

  What the fuck?

  Now the crowd was getting riled up again. Angry murmurs rose up amongst them.

  “I duped him and his friends into thinking we were allies - as if I could ever care for them - all so I could survive to kill each and every one of you.”

  Oh, the hell with this shit.

  “Okay, enough of this.” I stepped forward and put my hand on her shoulder.

  She made sure I immediately regretted it.

  * * *

  White hot fire erupted from her body. It wasn’t as intense as she was capable of, perhaps a side effect of the bonds that held her, but that was all elementary because it felt as if I’d just touched a live wire.

  There came a flash, the sensation of heat, and I found myself airborne - my hand sizzling to a crisp as I flew backward and slammed into a line of guards.

  A half dozen helping hands immediately came my way in the shape of fists, and I found myself beaten to the ground as if I’d just attempted a jail break. Jeez, touchy fuckers, weren’t they?

  I rolled away from them, noticed my friends closing in, and quickly waved them off. This wasn’t a fight we could win in our current shape. I also didn’t want either Tom or Christy getting too close to me. I was already on shaky ground from the hunger, and whatever damage my healing was going to need to take care of things was only going to make it worse.

  My head throbbed and the smell of their blood filled my nostrils from where they stood.

  No. I needed to keep it together.

  “I could never have feelings for a monstrosity such as him,” a voice cried. It was Sheila, continuing on in her insane rant. Goddamn it! What the fuck was she trying to do?

  Then it hit home. She was trying to save me. Did she not realize I wasn’t the one in danger here? She was going to goad them into killing her, but why?

  Why?

  Just then, one of the elite guards tasked with bringing Sheila in stepped forward with his black blade. She turned, too late, but her protective aura flared around her regardless.

  I smiled, expecting to see a toasted vamp, but instead, he thrust forward with his weapon and the impossible happened. The blackened metal cut through her defenses like butter, burying itself in her shoulder.

  She screamed in anguish as the blade sank to the bone. The crowd joined her, the difference being their cries were ones of triumph.

  That did it. I scrambled to my feet, intent on one thing and one thing only: killing the vampire who had just hurt the woman I loved.

  * * *

  Before I could even stand, multiple whistling sounds filled the air. I looked up and saw nearly half a dozen silver stakes buried in the back of the vamp who’d attacked Sheila. A moment later, they clattered to the floor as he turned to ash.

  “That will be quite enough,” Alex calmly proclaimed from where he still stood. From the expression he wore, you’d have thought nothing noteworthy had just transpired.

  I stood up, fangs bared.

  “You as well, Freewill,” he said with the barest nod of his head.

  I followed his gaze and saw several more vampire guards, all with stakes at the ready, seemingly more than happy to mete out any more impromptu justice.

  “The prisoners are not to be harmed...until such time as I say so.”

  None of the vamps in the room replied, but they didn’t need to. His order was crystal clear and the results of what would happen to anyone stupid enough to disobey were currently settling to the floor.

  I turned my head to check on...oh shit, Sheila! She was down on one knee, the weapon still buried in her. It wasn’t a fatal wound, or so I hoped, but I had little doubt it hurt like shit.

  Hoping that what I was about to do wasn’t misinterpreted as a hostile act, I stepped forward and grabbed the handle. “Sorry about this,” I said under my breath as I pulled. The blade offered some resistance, no doubt stuck in bone, but then slid out.

  A weak gasp of pain escaped her lips, breaking my heart into little pieces, as she raised a hand to the spurting wound. Ignoring the faith magic still surrounding her, I made as if to step to her aid, but she stumbled back out of my reach - once more saving me from my own stupidity.

  Her hand, red from her own blood, flashed a bright white - powerful enough that I could feel my nose hairs start to smoke. When it finally cleared, she was breathing hard, but the flow of blood had stopped. She’d managed to heal herself once the blackened metal had been removed.

  I looked down at the weapon - a long wooden shaft with a nasty straight blade on the end, some kind of mini halberd. What the fuck was it made of to have cut through her defenses so easily? Sadly, I had a feeling no answers would be forthcoming, so I tossed it back to the guards before they got any ideas. We might all be doomed, but I had no interest in meeting my maker any sooner than I was scheduled to. “Are you okay?”

  “Get away from me,” she hissed. “I told you, you’re nothing but...”

  She trailed off and I followed her gaze, glancing over my shoulder to find the rest of our merry little group - Tom, Ed, and Christy - joining us.

  Tom and Ed both stepped to either side of her, neither of them in any danger from her power.

  “I mean it,” Sheila protested weakly - tears in her eyes. “I fooled you all just so I could...”

  “Oh, shut up,” Christy said softly as my roommates helped Sheila to her feet.

  Although both of them were shackled, Christy still threw her arms around Sheila and hugged her tight. She then looked over her shoulder at me. “You too.”

  “What?”

  “Enough with the self-sacrificing crap. Do we look stupid?”

  “What self-sacrificing crap?” Tom asked.

  “Well, maybe not all of you,” I replied, wanting to step in and join them, but not quite daring to. I’d already gotten enough taste of the Icon’s power for one day. My hand was still blistered from where I’d touched her. I settled for being with them in slightly displaced spirit.

  “This is all fascinating,” a smug voice replied. It was Alex, reminding us that our little group hug-fest was maybe not happening at the most opportune time. “But your guilty plea still stands, Freewill.”

  * * *

  What followed next, after order was restored, was a retelling of history. I’m normally cool with learning about all the badass exploits of the past. Hell, I used to sit for hours as a kid and watch those lousy Italia
n Hercules movies. What wasn’t to love? You had a big musclebound hero killing monsters and getting the girl...or oftentimes, multiple girls. I won’t lie and pretend my previously weekly D&D sessions weren’t a way to relive those adventures in my mind, this time with me as the hero...at least when Dave wasn’t busy smiting us.

  Sadly, the problem with stories is they’re only as good as the storyteller. Somehow, Colin had gotten himself assigned as the official blatherer of tall tales for these proceedings - probably because he’d had access to those archives under James. However, it wasn’t hard to deduce a secondary reasoning behind his appointment: Colin was a grade-A toady. Alex could feel secure that he’d recount history in a way that didn’t leave anything open for interpretation of an anti-Draculas nature.

  The smarmy prick rattled off a litany of Icons from days past and their crimes against both vampires and the other supernatural races. Had James been doing the telling, I’m sure it would have made for a fascinating afternoon. Under Colin’s ever tedious voice, though, it was more like listening to someone recite the assembly instructions for an IKEA entertainment center.

  There was Zebbeh the Mad, a crazed Icon who lived thousands of years ago. He’d decided to cleanse the earth of vampire-kind following the conclusion of our first war with the Feet - credited with at least nine hundred confirmed kills.

  Then he told of Lucius Severus, an Icon who lived during the reign of Augustus Caesar. Quite the nice guy, that one. When he wasn’t busy crucifying early Christians, he amused himself by burning down whole colonies of the Aflar, which, judging by the pained response from a group off in a far corner of the room, were grey-skinned, elf-like creatures.

  And let us not forget Tomas Cordoba, a 14th century Icon who was one of the Spanish Inquisition’s nastier secret weapons. Seems he was directly responsible for nearly wiping out the Magi in Europe. Bet they didn’t expect that.

  I had little doubt there were exaggerations thrown into the mix. After all, Alex himself had admitted to being as worried about Sheila as he was of getting too much starch in his togas. Still, I had to wonder. Faith magic, as far as I could tell, had nothing to do with being good or righteous. I mean, fuck, Tom had somehow empowered an Optimus Prime action figure just by sheer virtue of believing it to be worth a fortune - not exactly the most altruistic of motives. It wasn’t hard to imagine that some who were born with the gift of...Iconhood, I guess...might turn out instead to be nutball zealots. Still, Colin’s list was definitely a one-sided affair, obviously meant to stir the crowd.