The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill Book 8)

by Rick Gualtieri

  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.”

  Oh, this shit again? I was sorely tempted to point my fingers at Gan and throw her to the wolves ... err ... apes. Especially since I glanced her way when he said it and all she did was smile at me.

  Yeah. That would be a good idea. Let her pay for her crimes. Let them tear her limb from limb. She deserved it. It would also rid me of her once and for...

  “Uh, Bill, are you okay?” Sally asked.

  “Huh?” I was about to ask what the hell she was talking about when I looked down. At some point, my talons had extended and I’d dug eight long furrows into the table with them.

  “You need a break?” She put a hand on my shoulder and my first instinct was to deck her.

  The fuck?

  Oh shit! It was happening again. Before, it had been the frustration of waiting. Now it was the boredom. Again, that same anger was seeping to the surface. “Goddamn it, Dr. Death!”

  All eyes in the glade turned my way. Had I actually said that aloud?

  Oops.

  “Bill...” Sally and Sheila both began expectantly.

  “What a doctor death?” one of Big C’s advisors asked.

  Oh crap.

  I stood up, not entirely sure if I was going to speak or tear across the table at him. Thankfully, my lips started moving before my legs. “Um ... it’s just an expression. I sometimes say it when I ... err ... point out a gross inaccuracy of the facts. Yeah, that’s it.”

  “You do?” Sheila asked, forgetting herself for a moment.

  “Yes, I do,” I hissed. “All the time.”

  “What gross inacc ... that word?” Big C asked.

  “It means falseness,” I explained.

  “Big C know that! Big C not dumb!”

  Fuck that noise. I’d known some dumb cunts in my time, but none as big as him. Pointing that out wouldn’t be in our favor, though. So, instead, I took several deep breaths to get my runaway emotions under control. “My apologies,” I said. “What I meant was the inaccuracy of stating that I started this war.”

  “You deny killing Turd’s cub?”

  “At my hand, yes.” I hated to throw Nergui under the bus posthumously. If there was an afterlife for vamps, hopefully he understood I was doing it for our entire benefit. “Another of our party did the deed without my consent.”

  “He one of you. You leader. His actions your actions.”

  There was some logic to that, in a Neanderthal sort of way.

  “Perhaps,” I offered, “but the only reason we were up here to begin with was because of Turd’s treachery.”

  The mention of Turd caused a lot of teeth to be bared on the other side. What I said next was either going to be my winning hand or would work them up into such a froth they’d beat me into a senseless pile of goo.

  Time to remember my gaming roots. What would Kelvin Lightblade do? Why, he’d trust in the dice, that’s what.

  “Turd liked technology, your great taboo. There were many witnesses to that. The only reason he wanted us up here was to force a business arrangement, one that would have robbed you of the nectar of your sacred trees and given him money to buy even more technology. Before you know it, he would have been living large in a mansion, sitting in a hot tub and snorting coke off of hooker’s asses while his million-dollar sound system played in the background.”

  I stopped and saw three blank expressions staring back. Glancing down at Sally, I asked, “Too much?”

  “The hookers might have been a wee bit over the line.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Okay, time to dial it back a bit and put my cards on the table. “I argue that the Humbaba Accord was never in danger. It was treachery that brought us all to the Woods of Mourning. Though I regret the death of Turd’s daughter, any insult caused was entirely on him, not the rest of you. Our people have been fighting, dying, for no reason other than the selfishness of a few. All we need to do is acknowledge this and we can end this massacre once and for all.”

  Holy shit, that wasn’t half bad. I hadn’t done anything that good since I bs’d my way
through a fifth grade oral lecture on the Civil War.

  Judging by the looks of those at the table, and the witnesses sitting in the stands, I’d have gotten at least a B+ on this one. Fuck yeah! I’d take it.

  I locked eyes with Sheila for a moment and she gave me the barest of grins before forcing a look of neutrality back onto her face.

  Hell, even Big C looked thoughtful, or as thoughtful as he could. I hadn’t really spent a great deal of time conversing with any members of the Feet, but I got the impression deep thinkers were a rarity amongst their number. Even so, when he finally spoke, I was half amazed to find it wasn’t to argue with me again. “Freewill T’lunta speaks ... wisely.” Talk about having to choke out a word. “Conflict is Turd’s fault. Deaths are Turd’s fault. Everything is Turd’s fault!”

  I’m not quite sure I’d say everything. I mean, François had just as much a part in it, but thankfully, that wasn’t too widely known. Also, that asshole was dead too, so it wasn’t like we had to worry about him.

  “Insult was against Turd and his cub. Restitution must be made as such,” Big C added, using an awfully big word for one with such primitive brain cells.

  “Restitution?” I asked, throwing a quick glance Gan’s way. She, for her part, seemed completely unfazed by the implication. “As in payback?”

  “Life for life. It is way of things.”

  “Well,” I said, “in theory, that’s already been paid for. I mean, the vamp who killed Turd’s daughter didn’t walk away from it.”

  “Servant does not equal leader.”

  Yeah, except it was Turd’s daughter, not Turd we were talking about. Considering their attitude toward Sally for the entire proceedings, I was tempted to throw back in their faces that, according to their logic, they probably ended up owing us in the exchange, but somehow, I didn’t think that would work in my favor. Logic wasn’t really their strong suit.

  “Life for life,” Big C repeated. He pointed a hairy finger at me. “You and mate have cubs?”

  “Are you fuckers deaf or what?” Sally spat. “I am not his mate!”

  “Big C not deaf, she-T’lunta. Just not believe you.”

  Oh God, it was happening again, wasn’t it? We were so close to signing a peace treaty with these assholes only to have it completely and utterly fucked up. I considered the vial of blood in my pocket. If things turned to shit, at least I’d have a shot at taking a bunch of them with me.

  I glanced toward the witches. The expression on Christy’s face was unreadable, but I knew the Magi were neutral parties under the Humbaba Accord. I had no doubt whatsoever she and her coven would step in if things turned bad for us, but the repercussions could be dire. By her doing so, she could potentially drag her entire race into the war.

  Fuck that. I at least needed to make a futile attempt to salvage this before Sally could...

  Big C held up a hand as one of his advisors leaned in and grunted something at him. The two chattered back and forth for several seconds, giving me time to attempt to calm her down. At least she hadn’t brought her fifty-caliber hand cannon with her to the table.

  Finally, Big C stood up and said, “Bring Plug!”

  Plug?

  What the fuck? My mind turned to the only thing I could think of ... a Bigfoot-sized butt plug. Ye gods, the horror. Was that their compromise for me not having any cubs to kill? If so, hopefully they chose Sally to wear it, because I was willing to do a lot of things for peace, but even I had to draw the line somewhere.

  THE BROWN WEDDING

  Another Sasquatch marched into the hollow, taking the steps two at a time, obviously double-timing it at his commander’s request.

  I won’t lie. I was extraordinarily relieved to see him walking in empty-handed.

  “Oh, it’s this guy again,” Sally said.

  “Who?”

  “Him,” she replied. “Can’t you ... oh, never mind. Why do I even bother?”

  “Because I’m such a likable fellow?”

  She glared at me. “When we get back, I’m locking you in a room with nothing but jars of their fur until you can tell them apart by scent.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  “Do you two need a time out?” Sheila asked.

  “Nope. All’s dandy here.”

  “Good.” She turned back toward the newcomer, then paused for a moment as if remembering her lines. “Who dares interrupt these proceedings?” She then picked up her sword and pointed it at the Sasquatch. “You have not been recognized.”

  Hmm, no offense to her, but when the green ball of death had done that, it had been intimidating. When she did it, it was kinda cute. Probably not what she was going for.

  Even so, there was protocol to follow.

  Before we had to discover if her powers were worth a fig against giant stink apes, their leader stood and said, “This Plug, war party wolf. Once served Turd. Now serve me.”

  Wait a second.

  “He capture Freewill not long ago.”

  That was this guy?! Plug ... of course, why not? I hadn’t thought to get his name at the time, considering my first impression had been of him stomping on the back of my head. Maybe that was for the best. It was really hard to take a beating seriously once you learned what these things’ actual names were.

  “Tell them!”

  The raiding party leader stepped forward and grunted toward Sheila in what I guessed was meant to be a respectful manner. For her part, she put the sword back on the table and sat down. “You are recognized, Plug.”

  “Plug thanks Silver Eyes. Plug war wolf. Lead other warriors to battle after shaman make trees grow.”

  “Make the trees grow?” Sheila asked.

  “Sasquatch magic,” I replied.

  She turned toward me and grinned. “You are not recognized.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’ll let it slide this time.”

  Rough chuckles came from the other end of the table. Bunch of dicks. A summit to determine the fate of the world this might be, but damn if it didn’t have the feel of a high school pep rally at times.

  “Plug capture Freewill T’lunta. Mighty Plug!” He took a moment to raise his arms and beat his chest. The thumping echoed through the hollow.

  I opened my mouth to comment, but Sally put a hand on my arm. “Just don’t.”

  She was probably right. I could eat crow for a bit. Arguing semantics with Sasquatches was ultimately self-defeating. Besides, he had captured us.

  “Plug capture other T’lunta. Plug capture T’lunta mate.”

  Sheila raised an eyebrow and indicated Sally.

  “No! Plug say his mate.” He pointed a finger at Christy. “That one.”

  All eyes in the glade turned toward her. Some of them in curiosity, most of them in surprise. Gan’s, however, was the one I was most interested in. I could see the claws on her hand momentarily lengthen. Oh, crap.

  “Something you want to tell me, babe?” Tom asked, glancing between us.

  A yellow crackle of power shot from her fingertips, causing him to jump back.

  “Ow!”

  Guess that glamour was pretty damned good after all.

  “It was all ... a misunderstanding,” she said with a tone of annoyance.

  “Magi and T’lunta?” Big C asked.

  Plug turned back to him and nodded.

  “And the point of this?” Sheila asked, a look of utter confusion upon her face.

  “We capture their cub, too.”

  Not that again! For Christ’s sake! Was there a stupidity plague rampant among the Feet or something? I stood up. “Listen, guys. That cub was named Ed and he was a fully grown...”

  Sally grabbed me by the sleeve and dragged me back into my seat. Before I could say a word in protest, she said, “Sorry, the Freewill is still distraught over the whole affair with his beloved ... son.”

  I stared incredulously at her, to which she mouthed just two short words. I couldn’t read lips for shit, b
ut this I understood: “Zip it!”

  Um, okay.

  Sheila blinked at us, as if maybe we’d grown a few extra heads, but then she turned to Plug. “Please go on.”

  Plug spared one snarl in my direction before continuing. “Plug capture funny smelling Freewill T’lunta cub. Plug present cub to Turd as prize. Much glory heaped upon Plug!” And again with the chest beating. I was half expecting to see Cheetah swing in from the sidelines.

  “What happen?” Big C asked.

  “Turd adopt cub as his own. Try to train it.”

  “Cub not here now. Cub die?”

  “No. Cub escape.”

  “Cub escape Turd?”

  “Yes.”

  Wait a second. I was beginning to see what Sally meant here.

  Big C stood up and slammed a fist onto the table. “Turd get revenge. Capture Freewill T’lunta cub. But Turd stupid and let it escape. Fault of no one but Turd.” He turned and locked eyes with me. “Honor is served.”

  And just like that, we’d won.

  * * *

  Well, winning is a relative concept, but I’d been coming up short in that column lately. I’d take what I could get.

  The big ape wasn’t finished anyway. “Turd stupid and selfish. Get many of our kind killed for dishonor. Let the War of Turd end. It die with him. Let the Peace of Cunt begin!”

  Sheila completely lost her shit at that. I had to stifle a fake coughing jag as well. She had it worse, though, not having been previously insulated against the raw fucking idiocy that was the Feet. She folded her hands on the table and put her face down on it. After a few moments, she could barely breathe.

  Fuck it. There hadn’t been a lot of laughs the last few days. The poor girl had earned it.

  I turned to Sally. “Who’d have thunk it? The legendary Icon laid low by...”

  “Don’t say it,” she warned.

  “Fine. Too easy anyway.” I lowered my voice. “By the way, how’d you know where he was going with this?”

  “Never discount ego or new management taking an opportunity to make the old management look bad.”