Half A Prayer (The Tome of Bill Book 6)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Can we focus here?” Sheila asked, her aura flaring up for a moment. “We can discuss all of...this at another time, preferably not here and not in front of an audience.”

  Maybe it was me, but I could have sworn I caught the ghost of a blush on her face standing out against the white glow.

  “Let’s lay out what needs to be done. We need to find Sally, and we need to get out of here. There’s strength in numbers, but according to Bill, these monsters are after you,” she pointed a finger toward Ed, “for whatever reason.”

  Tom beamed at that. “Christy, any chance you can glamour us all up?”

  A frown creased her face. “One or two people is easy, but I’m a little winded. I could maybe change our look, but if these monsters can sniff Ed out, that might be a problem.”

  “Just change him, then.”

  I let out a sigh. “So you want us to walk around with one member of our group missing, but a whole new guy with us, and hope they don’t figure that out?”

  “How smart could they be? They have rocks for heads.”

  “They’re not the only ones,” Ed muttered.

  “The way I see it, we have a couple of choices,” I said, trying to get us back on track. “We could all leave now. That saves our asses for the moment, but fucks Sally. I’m not willing to do that.”

  “The First Coven would be after you shortly regardless,” Gan replied. “They already want the Shining One dead, and they do not take lightly to broken truces.”

  “Point taken. Some of you could bamf out of here. I can take the heat for that, but it still won’t stop them from hunting down Sheila when this is over.”

  “You assume they’ll leave the rest of us alone,” Christy pointed out. “Not sure I trust that to happen.”

  Ed stepped forward. “Not happening anyway, bro. We’re not gonna let you take the fall.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Besides, who knows when those fucking rock things will pop up again, looking for me. It pays to keep all of my super-powered friends in one piece, if you get my drift.”

  “That’s all I am, a glorified bodyguard, eh?”

  “More or less,” he replied with a grin. Asshole.

  “How about this?” I said at last. “I don’t think all of us wandering the halls is a great idea. Too big of a chance of something happening. If they see Ed, we could be swarmed. They haven’t found this room yet, and there’s no reason to think they will before this is over.”

  “So you’re splitting us up again?”

  “More or less, despite all horror movie logic. It should keep you safe while not violating the truce. If things get hairy, step outside the door and teleport out of here.”

  “What if we can’t get out the door?”

  “You’ll be able to because Sheila is going to stay here with you.”

  Old Boyfriends Die Hard

  “The hell I will!”

  Needless to say, Sheila was none too pleased at my statement. A few unkind words were said about me being a sexist ass and her not needing a knight in shining armor, blah blah blah. What she couldn’t deny, though, was that Christy was very pregnant. It was perhaps a low blow for me to point that out, but fuck that shit. Where chivalry fails, good old-fashioned guilt can work wonders.

  Christy was powerful, but she was a sawed-off shotgun - nasty for a few blasts, but with limited ammo. If enough of any hostile force came after them, neither Tom nor Ed would be particularly useful if she clicked on empty. Ed’s blood could pack a doozy of a punch against a vampire, but he had to spill it for it to be effective - not the most sustainable defensive strategy.

  An Icon, on the other hand, was more than capable of defending a chokepoint like a narrow doorway. That logic, combined with protecting the unborn baby of a woman she was supposedly prophesized to destroy - a factoid I knew was eating her up inside - sealed the deal. I felt a bit bad playing the guilt card, but not nearly as bad as if any of them got hurt because we divided up the teams incorrectly.

  That left me with Gan, the short end of the stick in more ways than one.

  All of that settled, my roommates and I exchanged our customary insults toward one another’s manhood - our way of wishing each other well. Christy then pulled me aside to have a few words.

  When she was finished, she turned and headed back into the room, but not before saying, “May the White Mother watch over you.”

  “I’ll take what I can get.”

  Sheila was the last to enter the former holding cell. We stood there awkwardly facing each other for a moment until I lamely broke the silence. “I should probably get going.”

  “Yeah. Good luck.”

  “You too.”

  I turned to leave, wanting to say more, but not quite finding the words.

  “Oh, and Bill? Stay safe. You still owe me at least one awkward conversation.”

  “Huh?” I spun so fast, you’d have sworn that I was still amped up on Gan’s blood, but it was too late. She was already closing the cell door behind her - no doubt taking up a guard position right inside.

  Fuck! I so hated when women did that. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate on tying my shoes, much less surviving, with that one rolling around in my head?

  “They’ll be okay,” I muttered, forcing myself to turn away again. “They have to be.”

  “Worry not, Dr. Death,” Gan said after we’d turned a corner. “The Shining One is formidable. The only true danger to her are blades sanctified in the ritual of Baal, and most of them currently lie broken on the battlefield.”

  Wait, hadn’t Alex mentioned something similar before mind-blasting Sally? “What are you talking about?”

  “The darkened weapons and shackles that were used to hold the Shining One at bay.”

  “Oh. So what the fuck is a ritual of Baal?”

  “It sanctifies the steel in the blood of the god of heretics.”

  “Wait. How the fuck can there be a god of heretics? By their very definition, heretics don’t worship anyone.”

  “Some of the subtleties of the veil escape even my knowledge.”

  “Fine, the idiosyncrasies of ancient gods aren’t really my concern anyway. Still, I’m not sure I buy it. Those things were pretty useless in battle.”

  “Indeed. The blood is a corrupting influence, making the metal brittle and unreliable. However, that same influence is what allows them to pierce the Shining One’s defenses.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Any child of our history would know it. My father made sure all of his subjects were learned in our ways.”

  “Wait, James was one of your father’s...err, sirelings, I guess. How come he didn’t know about it?”

  “The Wanderer? He is well aware. He studied from the same ancient scrolls as did I.”

  “Yeah, but Remington...” That made no sense. If James knew how to kill an Icon, then why did he send a group armed with the typical gear vamps used to hunt down other vamps? Was it a mistake? Could he have possibly set them up for failure on purpose? But why?

  Unfortunately, that train of thought was sent hurtling off the tracks and down a canyon as Gan chose that moment to change subjects.

  “You and the Shining One should consider being more direct with one another,” she commented as we walked. “It will make your time together much more pleasant, at least until destiny forces you to kill her and become mine.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  * * *

  “Your whore is near.”

  One didn’t need Gan’s senses to make that guess. The sound of fighting had been growing steadily louder, echoing through the empty halls from seemingly all directions. That the body count had also been increasing was likewise undeniable. Dead Jahabich, piles of ashes, and the bloody remains of various allied creatures drove the point home. Needless to say, I didn’t envy the poor schmucks whose jobs it would be to clean this place up once this was all over and done with
.

  I found myself idly wondering if it would be zombies or some vampire janitors. At least the latter could snack away as they mopped.

  Such thoughts weren’t particularly useful, but it was better than wondering if Sally would even let me help her. The truth was I knew very little about her life prior to me entering it. She always kept things close to the vest, seemingly living in the moment. However, from her various psychotic inclinations - such as opening a faux suicide hotline to draw in victims for our former coven - it wasn’t a stretch to assume she’d been heavily invested in the vampire lifestyle. If she had reverted back to that, I...well, I might need for Gan to punch her out and explain things later when we were all safe.

  Yeah, I was pretty well fucked no matter how you rolled the dice. But as long as she was alive, there was hope. That would have to be good enough. If I could get her to safety...

  But then what?

  How did one undo a compulsion of Alex’s power? Even barring that, what about us? As much as I hated to admit it, Gan had a point. I’d considered Sally a friend even during my early days as one of the undead, her status quickly growing in rank to rival even my roommates. Now, though, I couldn’t shake these other feelings I’d allowed myself to consider.

  Personally, I blamed Robert. If he hadn’t shacked up with Sheila, making her happy and all, then I’d have never opened myself up to other possibilities. The problem now was that once opened, that particular Pandora’s Box - if you will - didn’t seem to want to shut. Goddamn it! Leave it to the fucking accountants to screw shit up for the rest of us.

  We rounded a corner and saw heavy double doors ahead of us. One was melted right off its hinges, little more than smoldering slag. It allowed us to see in to the room beyond where, judging by the sounds, screams, and bodies flying back and forth, a fight was going on.

  “She is in there,” Gan pointed out.

  “Of course she is.” I let out a heavy sigh, dreading this - not so much for Sally, but I had a feeling the first thing I’d hear upon entering would be Alex’s smug voice.

  Oh well, who wanted to live forever anyway?

  I planned to sneak in along the wall and assess the situation before figuring out what to do - whether to fight or grab Sally and run, whatever looked the most likely to succeed.

  That was my plan. Sadly, I didn’t bother to share it with Gan, who seemingly had another strategy in mind. Standing beside me, she let out one of those battle shrieks of hers, hitting a pitch only prepubescent girls and trained opera singers seemed capable of. Rather than melodic, though, it was more like something you’d expect to hear during Ragnarök, right before the Valkyries swooped in and kicked the shit out of you.

  Before I could say a word - not that she would have heard me anyway - she was off, a blur of motion, a tiny little whirlwind of teeth, claws, and crazy.

  Well, I guess there was something to be said about the direct approach.

  * * *

  I followed, trying to keep an eye out in all directions. We appeared to be in a cafeteria, of all places. Though no stern-faced lunch ladies gazed out from behind pots of creamed meatloaf, it was fairly obvious - especially once an industrial-sized oven went flying past me to smash into a Jahabich closing in on my position.

  I glanced to my right and saw one of the Draculas jumping back into the fray, the one Alexander had called Vargas. He seemed to be directing an attack by a contingent of vamps and a handful of creatures made of what looked like living flame. Wisps, if I recalled correctly from my time up in Canada. That explained the melted door.

  Another of the rock monsters charged me and I ducked down, remembering one of my favorite wrestling moves. Once he hit me straight on, I straightened up and launched him over my back, nearly giving myself a hernia in the process. These things were a lot heavier than they looked, and I was currently my weak, pansy-ass normal self.

  No offense to the vamps in the room, but I would need to remedy that if I wanted to survive.

  There was no sign of the other Draculas. Alex had apparently split up his forces to better battle the threat. Wherever he was, I hoped he was getting his fucking skull bashed into paste.

  Bad karma thoroughly shared, I jumped into the fight, looking for my partner. The battle here seemed to be turning toward the side of the vamps. That was a relief - kinda. Unfortunately, no matter which way you looked at things, I was falling short on allies. I couldn’t afford to lose those I had.

  “Freewill!” a vampire shouted, running up to me. “Let us destroy these invaders together.”

  Finally, someone who was on my side. It was nice to see my reputation wasn’t entirely tarnished. I grinned and he returned the gesture.

  I turned away, looking for an enemy to engage, too late registering the obsidian smile flashed back at me. Oh fuck.

  The fist that hit the side of my head was human-sized and shaped, but felt like it was made of rock - probably because it was. I hit the floor and slid across it to land in a heap against one of the serving counters. I shook my head to clear it as the faux vamp charged.

  Crap! Maybe we weren’t winning as handily as I’d thought. Thinking quickly, I reached up for anything I could use as a weapon, desperately hoping not to grab a handful of plastic forks. Instead, I brought down a shower of trays onto my head. Ouch! Make that a shower of those metal mess trays they used in the military.

  Oh well, when in Rome...

  I grabbed hold of a bunch with both hands and swung just as the Jahabich launched himself at me. I hit him in the face with a solid clank, doing little damage but knocking him to the side nevertheless.

  Now it was my turn. I quickly rolled to my feet and threw everything I had at the monster before he could either get up or resume his true form.

  Back in grade school, I’d always been picked last for soccer, and for good reason - I kinda sucked. I still wasn’t in any danger of being recruited by Manchester United, but I did have the freakish strength of the undead backing me up.

  I connected solidly with the fucker’s skull, breaking at least one toe in the process - fuck - but it did the job. The monster went flying and crashed against the wall, landing in a heap.

  I was on the move again before it got back up - mentally chiding myself to keep an eye on their teeth lest I get bamboozled again. Once more and I might not get so lucky.

  All around me, creatures clashed. Some fought silently, others snarled like animals locked in a fight for dominance...

  “Oh, you want a fucking piece of me too?”

  But only one displayed that snark I was so familiar with - Sally!

  Her voice came from deep within the kitchen, so I hopped the counter and went looking for her amongst the stoves, deep fryers, and counters once meant to keep high-ranking muckety-mucks fed while the world burned above them. Wow, this place made my old kitchen nook back in Brooklyn look like...well, exactly what it was - a shit box in comparison.

  A clanking noise caught my attention and I spotted Sally at the far end of the room, near another door. She had one of those rock monsters on the floor and was busy smashing its skull to dust with a length of pipe. It reminded me to be ever so subtle in my approach to her. We were still friends, but she didn’t realize it, and that could lead to an awkward reunion involving such unpleasant things as my head being pulverized.

  Unfortunately, before I could reach her, another of those creatures did. This one tackled her from out of nowhere, its momentum carrying them both through the door.

  No!

  I raced forward, diving over a counter that stood in my way and knocking over an old heat lamp assembly. I guess I wouldn’t be getting fries with that after all.

  Scrambling back to my feet, I heard her cry out, “Get off me, you fucking freak. I’m gonna tear your...what the?”

  “Oh, Lucinda, my dear. You have the most intoxicating way with words.”

  “Mark?”

  Oh shit.

  Quit Yer Bitchin a
nd Get in the Kitchen

  Coincidence is a bitch, although a part of me knew that had nothing to do with it. Those things were after Ed. The easiest way to find him was to find one of his friends...a prospective girlfriend being a good choice, although I tried to push that little detail from my mind. Talk about complicating matters. Comparatively speaking, fighting was so much easier.

  Now all I had to do was hope Sally remembered this guy was plotting to make her his goo-slave, jump in, kill the asshole, and hope she didn’t bash my skull in as way of thanks.

  Piece of cake. Yep, that’s what I kept telling myself in the hope that I’d eventually believe it.

  I reached the doorway and flattened myself against the wall next to it.

  “How are you alive?”

  “You didn’t really think your little cave-in would stop us, did you?”

  “Cave-in? What are you talking about?”

  “The one you and your Freewill friend caused.”

  “I don’t know what friend you’re referring to, but I just met the creep.”

  Creep? What a bitch!

  “If you’re trying to fool me...”

  “The last time I saw you...” Her voice trailed off for a moment - almost sounding sad. “I’m sorry, but you didn’t give me a choice.”

  “Wait, what are you referring to?”

  “The Jahabich. I didn’t want things to end that way.”

  “Hold on, you mean you don’t remember...just a few days ago?”

  A part of me wanted to spring into action, but I hesitated for some reason. Oh, who was I kidding? I wanted to hear what they had to say - to hear if Sally still had feelings for this guy. If she did...

  “Everything is fuzzy. I remember killing Marlene, taking over Pandora, but it feels like there are pieces missing, like maybe I hit my head too hard.” Her voice suddenly hardened. “I do remember you trying to gut me in the sewers, though.”

  The previously sarcastic tone of Mark’s voice changed, dropping down to a soothing quality. “I will admit to overreacting.”

  “Overreacting?”

  Heh, shades of Kill Bill.